Strange Bedfellow (22 page)

“It might have made us less wary of each other, but we still would have had to adjust to our growth as human beings. It would have been painful under any circumstances,” he insisted.
 

“Yes, but Chet—” Dina started to argue.
 

Blake interrupted. “He was never a threat to our relationship. Even if I hadn't come back, I'm convinced you would never have married him. You might have drifted along with the engagement for a year, but you're much too intelligent not to eventually have seen that it wouldn't work.”
 

She relaxed, suddenly knowing he was right, and the last little doubt vanished. Smiling, she slid her hand over his flat, muscular stomach, as smooth and hard as polished bronze.
 

“Weren't you just a little bit jealous of Chet?” The question was half teasing and half serious.
 

“No, I was never jealous of him,” he chuckled, and tugged at a lock of hair.
 

“Never?” Dina was almost disappointed.
 

“Never,” Blake repeated in an absolutely positive tone. “There were times, though, when I was envious.”
 

“Why?”
 

“Because you were so natural with him, so warm and friendly, trusting him, relying on him, and turning to him when you were confused. I wanted it to be me,” he explained. “A man's instinct to protect is as strong as the maternal instinct in a woman. That's why I was envious of Chet—because you wouldn't look to me for security.”
 

“I feel very secure now.” Dina hugged him. “I love you, Blake. I've never stopped loving you.”
 

“That's what I really wanted to hear.” His arms tightened around her, crushing her ribs. “Welcome home was just a substitute for I love you.”
 

“I love you,” she repeated. “You don't have to prompt me into saying that. I shall keep saying it until you get sick of it.”
 

“Never, my love.” He shook his head.
 

There was a long silence as they reveled inwardly at the rediscovery of their love and the eloquently simple words that expressed so much.
 

“I hate to bring up something so mundane,” Dina whispered, “but where are we going to sleep tonight?”
 

“I don't even want to go to sleep,” said Blake.
 

“Aren't you tired?” Her sleepless night on the soft mattress was beginning to catch up with her, aided by the dreamy contentment of his embrace.
 

“Exhausted,” he admitted with a smile in his voice. “But I'm afraid if I go to sleep, I'll wake up and find none of this has happened. Or worse, that I'm still in the jungle.”
 

“If you are, I'm going to be there with you,” she declared, and poked a finger in his chest. “You Tarzan, me Jane.” Blake chuckled and kissed her hair. “Seriously, Blake, are we going back to the house tonight?”
 

“Not if the storage boxes in the garage have any blankets in them. Do they?” he questioned.
 

“Did you take everything out that I had in storage?”
 

“Every single solitary thing,” he confirmed.
 

“Then there are blankets in the boxes in the garage,” she promised. “As a matter of fact, there's everything there needed to set up housekeeping.”
 

“Is that what you'd like to do?” Blake asked. “Stay here tonight?”
 

“I thought you'd already decided we were.”
 

“I'm asking if that's what you want to do,” he explained patiently.
 

“I must remember that and mark it on the calendar,” Dina murmured. “Blake asked me what I wanted to do instead of telling me what I was going to do.”
 

“All right, troublemaker,” he laughed. “You know what I'm really asking.”
 

“You want to know whether I like the house?” Dina guessed, propping herself up on a elbow beside him.
 

“Do you?”
 

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I love it,” she smiled. “It's everything we ever said we wanted in a house.”
 

“Good. That's what I thought, too. Monday morning I'll have the agent draw up the papers for us to sign. In the meantime, I don't think he'll mind if we start unpacking the boxes in the garage.” “What if he sells it to somebody else?”
 

“He won't. I put earnest money down to hold it until you saw it and, I hoped, approved of my choice.”
 

“Were you so positive I'd like it?”
 

“As positive as I was that you'd love me again,” Blake answered.
 

“Conceited!” Dina teased. “It would serve you right if I hadn't liked it.”
 

“But you do, and now you can take over the decorating of it.”
 

“It might end up looking like a hotel,” she warned.
 

“It better not,” he laughed, and pulled her into his arms.
 

THERE WAS A SCATTERING of snowflakes outside her office window, falling from pearl gray clouds. A serenely joyful light was in Dina's eyes as she smiled at the telephone receiver she held to her ear.
 

“Thank you, I'll tell him,” she promised. “Merry Christmas.”
 

Hanging up, she let her attention return to the papers on her desk while absently humming Christmas carol. The interoffice line buzzed and she picked up the telephone again.
 

She had barely identified herself when Blake ordered crisply, “I want you in my office immediately.”
 

“What's it about?”
 

“We'll discuss it when you get here.”
 

An eyebrow arched at his sharpness. “Very well,” Dina agreed calmly. “Give me about fifteen minutes.”
 

“I said now,” he snapped.
 

“You're forgetting it takes that long to walk from my little cubbyhole to your office,” she reminded him dryly.
 

“Now, Dina!” And the connection was broken.
 

Breathing in deeply, she stared at the dead phone before finally replacing it on its cradle. She took a few precious seconds to put her desk into some kind of order, then walked into the corridor, closing her office door as she left.
 

Her statement of fifteen minutes was an exaggeration. Eight minutes later, Amy Wentworth glanced up from her typewriter and motioned her into Blake's office with a greeting wave of her hand. Dina knocked once on the connecting door and opened it to walk in.
 

Blake sat behind his desk leaning back in his chair when Dina entered. The bluntly male features still retained much of his tropical tan, but they were drawn into coldly harsh lines to match the temperature outdoors. Anger glittered in his dark eyes and Dina had no idea why.
 

“You wanted to see me, Blake?” She walked to his desk, smiling warmly at her husband, but it didn't thaw his expression. “Am I being called on the carpet about something?”
 

“You're damned right you are!” He reached forward to shove a paper across his desk toward her, his glittering and watchful gaze never leaving her face for an instant. “What's this all about?”
 

Dina reached for the paper and glanced over it. “This is the revised budget request,” she answered, frowning as she recognized it. “Where did you get it?”
 

“From Chet,” Blake snapped.
 

Her mouth became a straight line of grim exasperation. “He wasn't supposed to give it to you. I wanted to go over it with you when I submitted it.”
 

“He didn't give it to me, I took it. And you can go over it with me now,” he ordered. “This is the—what—third or fourth budget revision?”
 

“The third.” Dina was determined not to match his biting tone. “And if you'd told me why you wanted to speak to me, I could have brought some supporting papers.”
 

“I'm not interested in supporting papers, I want an explanation. What's the cause for the increase this time? And don't tell me it's inflation.”
 

“It's a combination of things,” she began. “We had to change advertising agencies for the campaign because the original firm wasn't able to produce due to some internal problem. That meant an increase in the cost.”
 

“You should have checked more thoroughly into the first company,” he rebuked her.
 

“Their difficulties occurred after we'd signed a contract with them,” she replied sharply to his criticism.
 

There was disbelief in his look, but he didn't pursue that aspect. “What else?”
 

“We had to revise the cost figures on revamping the hotels. The—”
 

“I knew it,” he declared through clenched teeth. “The redecorating costs for the hotels have escalated every time you've submitted a budget. Are you redecorating them or rebuilding?”
 

The slow-burning fuse of her temper was lit. “There are times when I'm not so positive myself,” she said, simmering. “Have you seen that hotel in Florida? It looks like a hospital. We've tried landscaping and painting, but it needs a whole new facade.”
 

“Why don't you just arrange to tear it down and build a new one?” he flashed.
 

“That's the best suggestion I've heard yet!” she retorted. “Why don't you bring that up to the expansion department?”
 

“At the rate you're going, it might be the most economical decision!” With controlled violence, Blake pushed out of his chair, standing behind the desk to glance at her. “I should have known this would happen. You put a woman in charge and give her a free hand, and right away she thinks it means she has a blank check!”
 

Hot tears burned her eyes. “If that's what you think—” pain strangled her voice “—why don't you take over? I never asked for the job in the first place! If you think a man can do so much better, go ahead!”
 

“And don't think I couldn't!”
 

“The great Blake Chandler. Oh, I'm sure you could do a much better job,” Dina issued sarcastically, and turned away, hugging her arms in front of her in a mixture of disgust and hurt. “I don't know what ever made me think I'd want your baby.”
 

“I don't know, either!” Blake snarled behind her. “It's a lucky thing you have a choice, isn't it?”
 

“That's the whole point! I don't have a choice anymore,” she cried bitterly.
 

Her sentence hung in the air for a long, heavy second before Blake broke the silence with a low demand. “What did you say?”
 

“Didn't I tell you?” She tossed the question over her shoulder, her chin quivering with the forced attempt at lightness. “I'm going to have a baby.”
 

In the next second his hands were on her shoulders to gently turn her around. Dina kept her chin lowered, still angry and hurt by his barbed attack.
 

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly.
 

“Yes, I'm sure.” She closed her eyes to try to force back the tears. “Doctor Cosgrove called me a few minutes ago to confirm the test results.”
 

“Why didn't you tell me?” His tension was exhaled with the question.
 

“How could I when you've been yelling at me for the past five minutes?” Her eyes flared open to glare at him.
 

His fingers lightly touched her cheek before he cupped it in his hand. “I was, wasn't I?” There was a rueful twist to his mouth.
 

“Yes, you were.” But her assertion didn't carry any sting of anger.
 

“I lost my perspective for a moment, the order of importance. I could lose everything I have and it wouldn't matter as long as I didn't lose you.”
 

The glow radiating from his face was warm and powerful and Dina basked in the love light. That serene joy she had known before their argument returned with doubled strength.
 

“No, it doesn't matter as long as I have you,” she agreed, and turned her lips to his hand to press a kiss into his open palm.
 

His head lowered, his mouth claiming hers in a sweetly fierce kiss that rocked her senses. She clung to him, reveling in the possessive embrace that gathered her close to his male length. A wild, glorious melody raced through her veins, its tune timeless, the universal song of love.
 

She was breathless when the kiss ended, and the sensation remained as Blake buried his face in the silver gold hair, his mouth trailing a blazing fire to the sensitive skin of her neck. She felt the tremors vibrating through his muscular form and knew she disturbed him as sensually as he disturbed her.