Wild Orchids (47 page)

He laughed. "Come in and chew me out in comfort, why don't you? The house is air conditioned—and there isn't another bus out of here until tomorrow morning."

"I drove."

"Oh, my God."

His rueful shake of the head did it. Her temper exploded. She had had enough of his cowardly retreat from relationships, his animadversions on her driving, his women… Before she even realized she meant to do it, her hand was arcing through the air to connect with satisfying force against his cheek. The sound of the slap resounded sharply through the cheerful droning of voices and vehicles as residents of the area went about their business on this sunny afternoon.

Max clapped a hand to his rapidly reddening cheek, staring down at her, his own eyes suddenly alight. Then he reached for her, grabbing her by the upper arms and hauling her hard against his body as his head swooped to capture her mouth.

He kissed her soundly, there on the steps of his house with white seagulls and brown terns wheeling and calling in the bright blue sky and interested neighbors watching from nearby windows and the street. In the doorway above, Conchita watched with a gathering scowl. As Max released Lora, looking down at her with a bewitching smile while Lora stared back at him, bemused, Conchita stormed down the steps, spitting a torrent of Spanish. She shouldered between the two of them, confronting Max with wild gesticulations and angry words while Lora staggered backwards, on the verge of losing her balance on the narrow step.

Before Max could react, Conchita hauled off and slapped him too, on the very same cheek. Then she flounced on down the stairs and up the street to the tune of laughter and clapping by the gleefully watching neighbors.

"And that goes double for me!" Lora said when she had recovered from the shock of it. Max looked at her out of those glinting black eyes, grabbed her arm, and hauled her up the steps after him. The watching neighbors cheered.

"Why did you come?" he asked quietly as he closed the door on their interested audience.

Lora looked at him-stonily in the shadowy quiet of the hallway. That slap had only relieved her feelings—it hadn't eliminated them.

"It should be obvious, but if you like I'll spell it out! I don't want that dirty money. I came to return it."

"There's twenty thousand dollars there, Lora. One-fifth, the same amount that went to Clemente's and Lowenthal's families and Tunafish and me. That's a lot of money to turn down for a scruple."

"At least I have scruples!"

"Meaning that I don't? But I do—at least where you're concerned. I could have fed you this big line about being in love with you to get you into bed, but I didn't. I played it straight."

"Am I supposed to give a big cheer or what?"

"You're supposed to return the favor. Tell the truth, Lora. Why did you really come?"

"I told you, to return the money."

"Liar." He said the word softly.

Lora stared into those glinting black eyes and felt hot color begin to creep up her neck.

"I did…"

"I've missed you, Lora. I think you've missed me, too."

She stared at him. He looked very tall and very dark as he towered over her in the narrow hallway. Overhead, a large hanging fern caught the light from a window at the top of the stairs. The hanging greenery reminded her of the jungle…

"I can see you've been very lonely." The sarcasm was a defense against desperate need. More than anything on earth she wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him to hold her, make love to her, love her… But she couldn't. She couldn't just meekly surrender to whatever restrictions he chose to put on their relationship. She couldn't stay with him, loving him, knowing that it would last only for as long as he wanted her body, knowing that he might leave her at any time—or turn to another woman, as he had clearly already done…

"If you're talking about Conchita, and I can see you are, it's been over between us for a long time. Since before you and I met. She just came by today to see if she could restoke old coals—and I had already told her nothing doing before you arrived. That's why she slapped me."

Lora stared up at him. He smiled back at her, a little coaxing smile that ordinarily would have charmed the heart right out of her. But not today. Today there was too much at stake. Lora saw suddenly, clearly, that he was right: she hadn't come to return the money at all. She had come to reclaim Max, but this time on her own terms if she could.

"Anyway," he said, the smile fading, "what about your math teacher?" ,

"I broke our engagement."

"Ahhh." The smile reappeard again, broadened. "Why, Lora?"

"Because I realized I didn't love him." The admission was as quiet as it was honest. The time had come to lay her cards on the table. It was a gamble, but she couldn't go through life wondering and worrying and hoping that someday she might hit on the right gambit to make Max return her love. Max had to know how she felt, and if the knowledge scared him into running again, then it was better to find out now than later, when her emotional commitment would be even greater.

Taking a deep breath, she twined her hands in front of her and looked up to meet those glittering black eyes. "I love you. Max."

His eyes flickered. That was absolutely the only response he made while Lora stared up at him with hope and fear mixed in equal parts in her eyes. This was the man who couldn't stand commitment, who couldn't let anyone too close, who vanished when he thought he might be growing too vulnerable. And it looked very much as if he was getting ready to run again. Lora braced herself to hear words that would crush her soul.

"So you love me." The words were very quiet, drawn out, as if he was looking them over for flaws. "I'm no great catch, Lora. I haven't held a steady job in years, I have friends you wouldn't let in the front door, I have a bum knee and those damned nightmares. You'd probably be better off with your math teacher."

"I don't want the math teacher. I want you." She reached out to touch him, her fingers trailing down the length of the strong arms to catch and hold his hands. He made a sound then, half laugh, half groan, and pulled her close, his arms coming around her to hold her in a crushing embrace.

"I want you, too," he said, his voice muffled by her hair. "So damned much. Why do you think I sent the money? I knew it would bring you running. If it hadn't, I would have had to swallow my pride and come after you."

"Would you really have come for me?" She pulled a little away from him to look up into his face. Her own face was ablaze with happiness. He wanted her—and not just for a little sex. He might not love her, but at least he cared a little, and that was enough. To start with, anyway.

"Oh, yes. Two days after I left you I knew I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. The rest of the time I spent figuring out how to get you back without groveling."

"Max, darling, I'd love to watch you grovel," she whispered, reaching up to plant a kiss on his hard mouth. He returned her kiss with a hot leisureliness that made her bare toes curl up on the soles of her sandals. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and then he was picking her up and carrying her up the stairs…

"So you'd like to watch me grovel, hmmm?" It was later, much later, and they were cozily ensconsed in his big bed while gentle night breezes blew in through the screened window to cool their overheated bodies.

'Mmmmm." She was tired, blissfully tired. Turning in his arms, she snuggled closer. He was warm and damp and his hairs tickled her nose and she loved him…

"You could make me, you know."

'Mmmmm."

"Damn it, woman, here I am trying to tell you I love you and you're going to sleep on me!" The gruff voice roused her before the words had a chance to sink in.

Lora sat bolt upright, staring down at him. "What did you say?"

He crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at her, his big body very dark and muscular against the white sheets. "You heard me."

"Say it again."

He grunted, reaching for her, pulling her down to lie sprawled on top of him. "Maybe I will—in twenty years or so."

"Twenty years?" Her heart stopped. She lifted her head to stare at him. Was he saying what she thought, hoped, prayed he was? Those black eyes met hers with an intensity that rocked her heart.

"Maybe fifty," he muttered defiantly, and kissed her. Two days later, she was wearing the diamond ring she had always wanted, with a gold wedding band to match.