Man of the Hour: Night Of Love. Diana Palmer

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СКАЧАТЬ everything was flat. Even now, looking at her fed his heart, uplifted him. She was so lovely. Fair and sweet and gentle, and all she wanted was a pair of toe shoes and a stage.

      He groaned inwardly. How was he going to survive when she left again? He never should have touched her. Now it was going to be just as bad as before. He was going to watch her walk away a second time and part of him was going to die.

      Daphne was coming with him tonight or he didn’t think he could survive Meg’s company. Thank God for Daphne. She was a friend, and quite content to be that, but she was his coconspirator as well now, part of this dangerous business that revolved around Ahmed. She was privileged to know things that no one else in his organization knew. But meanwhile she was also his camouflage. Daphne had a man of her own, one of the two government agents who were helping keep a careful eye on Ahmed. But fortunately, Meg didn’t know that.

      Steven was in some danger. Almost as much as Ahmed. He couldn’t tell Meg that without having to give some top-secret answers. Daphne knew, of course. She was as protected as he was, as Ahmed was. But despite his bitterness toward Meg, he didn’t want her in the line of fire. Loving her was a disease, he sometimes thought, and there was no cure, not even a temporary respite. She was the very blood in his veins. And to her, he was expendable. He was of no importance to her, because all she needed from life was to dance. The knowledge cut deep into his heart. It made him cruel. But hurting her gave him no pleasure. He watched her with possessive eyes, aching to hold her and apologize for his latest cruelty.

      Her purchase completed, Meg left the counter and turned away without looking up. Steven, impelled by forces too strong to control, gently took her arm and pulled her with him to a secluded spot behind some suits.

      He looked down into her surprised, wounded eyes until his body began to throb. “I keep hurting you, don’t I?” he said roughly. “I don’t mean to. Honest to God, I don’t mean to, Meg!”

      “Don’t you?” she asked with a sad, weary smile. “It’s all right, Steve,” she said quietly, averting her eyes. “Heaven knows, you’re entitled, after what I did to you!”

      She pulled away from him and walked quickly out of the store, the cars and people blurring in front of her eyes.

      Steve cursed himself while he watched her until she was completely out of view. He’d never felt quite so bad in his whole life.

      Meg spent the rest of the week trying to practice her exercises and not think about Steve and Daphne. David didn’t say much, but he spoke to Steve one evening just after she’d met him in the store, and Meg overheard enough to realize that Steve was taking Daphne out for the evening. It made her heart ache.

      She telephoned the manager of her ballet company, Tolbert Morse, on Thursday.

      “Glad you called,” he said. “I think I may be on the way to meeting our bills. Can you be back in New York for rehearsals next week?”

      She went rigid. In that length of time, only a miracle would mend her ankle. But she hesitated. She didn’t want to admit the slow progress she was making. Deep inside she knew she’d never be able to dance that soon. She couldn’t force the words out. Dance was all she had. Steve had made his rejection of Meg very blatant. Any hope in that area was gone forever.

      Her dream of a school of ballet for little girls was slowly growing, but it would have to be opened in Wichita. Could she really bear having to see Steven all the time? His friendship with David would mean having him at the house constantly. No. She had to get her ankle well. She had to dance. It was the only escape she had now! Steven’s latest cruelty only punctuated the fact that she had no place in his life anymore.

      Fighting down panic, she forced herself to laugh. “Can I ever be ready in a week!” she exclaimed. “I’ll be there with my toe shoes on!”

      “Good girl! I’ll tell Henrietta you’ll want your old room back. Ankle doing okay?”

      “Just fine,” she lied.

      “Then I’ll see you next week.”

      He hung up. So did Meg. Then she stood looking down at the receiver for a long time before she could bring herself to move. One lie led to another, but how could she lie when she was up on toe shoes trying to interpret ballet?

      She pushed the pessimistic thought out of her mind and went back to the practice bar. If she concentrated, there was every hope that she could accomplish what she had to.

      David paused in the doorway to watch her Friday afternoon when he came home from work. He was frowning, and when she stopped to rest, she couldn’t help but notice the concern in his eyes, quickly concealed.

      “How’s it going?” he asked.

      She grinned at him, determined not to show her own misgivings. “Slow but steady,” she told him.

      He pursed his lips. “What does the physical therapist say?”

      Her eyes became shuttered and she avoided looking directly at him. “Oh, that it will take time.”

      “You’re supposed to start rehearsing in a month,” he persisted. “Will you actually be ready by then?”

      “It’s in a week, actually,” she said tautly, and told him about the telephone call. He protested violently. “David, for heaven’s sake, I’ll be fine!” she burst out, exasperated to hear her own fears coming from his lips.

      He stuck his hands into his pockets with a long sigh. “Okay. I’ll stop. Ahmed’s going to be here at six.”

      “Yes, I remember. And you don’t have to look so worried. I know that he invited Steve and Daphne, too.”

      His shoulders rose and fell heavily. He knew what was going on, but he couldn’t tell Meg. She looked haunted and he felt terrible. “I’m sorry.”

      She forced down the memories of her last meeting with Steven, the painful things he’d said. “Why?” she asked with studied nonchalance. She dabbed at her face with the towel around her neck. “I don’t mind.”

      “Right.”

      She lifted her eyes to his. “What if I did mind, David, what good would it do? I ran, four years ago,” she said quietly. “I could have stayed here and faced him, faced her. I let myself be manipulated and I threw it all away, don’t you understand? I never realized how much it would hurt him….” She turned, trying to control her tears. “Anyway, he’s made his choice now, and I wish him well. I’m sure Daphne will do her best to make him happy. She’s cared about him for a long time.”

      “She’s cared about him, yes,” he agreed. “But he doesn’t love her. He never did. If he had, he’d have married her like a shot.”

      “Maybe so. But he might have changed his feelings toward her.”

      He gave her a wry glance. “If you could see the way he treats her at the office, you wouldn’t believe that. It’s strictly business. Not even a flirtatious glance between them.”

      “Yes, but you said that it all came to a head when she quit.”

      He grimaced. “So it did.”

      Her heart felt as heavy as lead. She turned away toward the staircase. “Anyway, СКАЧАТЬ