Dark Fire Page 5

  "Then let's go shopping. We have four hours until that awful luncheon Charlie arranged."

  "I think 111 wear the perfume to lunch. Lots of it." Bitsy pulled off her cap and fluffed her red curls, compliments of a drugstore bottle. "Reckon old Charlie will notice?"

  Rose Anne heard the longing in her aunt's voice. She gave her a warm hug.

  "We'll make darned sure he does. There's a great beauty salon we're going to and a smashing little dress shop. When I'm finished with you, he'd have to be blind not to notice."

  "I don't want him to have a heart attack or anything, just . . . notice me."

  o0o

  Sid was in the bookstore, browsing, and suddenly there she was, the Face, sitting at a small sidewalk cafe across the street, sipping something, probably lemonade, from a glass that looked as tall and cool as she was. He replaced the book, reaching blindly for the shelf, never taking his eyes off Rose Anne.

  She wore a big hat to shade her face from the sun but no sunglasses to hide the brilliant green of her eyes. He leaned closer to the window.

  "Can I help you, sir?"

  The question was spoken in French, and Sid answered in French . . . with a Kentucky drawl. He was just browsing, he said. He hoped the cute little salesgirl understood.

  She did. But she couldn't hide her amusement. Covering her mouth with her hand, she giggled.

  The salesclerk vanished and Sid stood at the window, trying to think of a good reason to go across the street and sit beside Rose Anne. The table was small. Their knees and elbows would touch. He would smell her hair, her skin.

  If he had anything to write on, he would take her a note from Luther. But how could he explain delivering a note at a sidewalk cafe?

  Across the way she lifted the cool glass and touched her throat. Sid rammed his fists into his pockets—hard.

  A well-dressed man approached her table, seeking her autograph, Sid hoped. The man doffed his hat and stood politely while he talked. Rose Anne's smile was guarded, her manner distant.

  Suddenly her smile vanished and her back stiffened. Sid was instantly alert.

  The man said something else to her, then sat down at the table. Sid was out the door.

  He loped along, craning his neck to see her over the crowd that thronged the sidewalk. She was still at the table, struggling to remain polite but looking increasingly uncomfortable.

  Sid pushed through the crowd with as much tact as he could manage. A few people complained of squashed toes, but he hurried on. He didn't have time to think up an apology in French.

  When he got close enough, he saw that the man had his thigh pressed intimately against Rose Anne's. She was pressed hard against the back of her chair.

  Sid nearly crushed a waiter in his dash to her table.

  "Ah, there you are, sis," he said, looming beside them like a giant saguaro cactus. All prickles. "Did you get over your morning sickness?"

  Rose Anne smiled with relief. Sid hooked a chair with his big foot and dragged it to the small table. He winked at her, then angled himself between Rose Anne and her unwelcome visitor, stretching his long legs every which way in order to come between the two of them.

  "I beg your pardon." The man's English was impeccable, with only a slight French accent. "That's my foot you're stepping on."

  "An old habit of mine, stepping on feet." Sid clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to rattle his ribs. "I'm trying to turn over a new leaf, but I just don't know which leaf to turn over." He whacked the astonished man on the back, laughing loudly at his own humor.

  "Are you some kind of nut?"

  "He's my brother." Rose Anne suddenly clutched her stomach, and Sid would have sworn she turned pale. "I think I'm going to be sick again." Sid grinned as she gagged.

  The unwelcome visitor stood up so fast, he almost toppled his chair. "This is all a terrible mistake. I thought she was the Face."

  "Lots of people make that mistake when she's sitting down. Don't they. Ruby?" Sid gently poked Rose Anne in the ribs. "You ought to see her standing up. Why, sis's legs are so bowed, you could run a cow between them and still have room left over. Besides that, she's got a big old ugly mole on her midriff. And in a few months, when she starts showing, she's going to get as large as a washtub. All the Granger women do."

  The man made a hasty exit, every now and then looking back over his shoulder as if he expected Sid to be pursuing him.

  "Bow legs and a mole on my midriff?" Rose Anne said after she had finished laughing.

  "A great big ugly one."

  They laughed some more.

  "Did you see his face when you asked me about morning sickness?"

  "He turned three shades of green."

  "Big as a washtub, huh?" Rose Anne stood up and frowned down at her twenty-two-inch waistline as if she expected it to have ballooned.

  "It sounded like a good idea at the time."

  Rose Anne sat back down, propped her elbows on the table, and leaned close to him, her eyes dancing with mischief. He had never seen her look lovelier. At that moment he would gladly have given up the skies for the sake of remaining at her side to bring laughter into her eyes.

  "Some men would have taken a different approach," she said, teasing him. "Offered to fight a duel to save my honor."

  "Swords at twenty paces. I would have won by a nose."

  A breeze caught the brim of her hat when she tipped her head back to laugh. Sid reached up and rescued it as it threatened to sail into the street.

  "I don't know what I would have done today without you," she said, straightening her hat. "You've been my knight in shining armor."

  Sid tried to keep his extraordinary pleasure hidden. "I thought that was Aunt Bitsy's job. Where is she?"

  "Getting gorgeous. I left her in the dress shop with explicit orders not to come out until she's completely transformed." She smiled at him. "Tell me about yourself, Sid."

  "I'm just a simple Kentucky boy who got lucky enough to fly Tomcats for the navy."

  "In a pig's eye. You're ambitious and hardworking, not lucky."

  "In a pig's eye?"

  "I'm just a simple Georgia girl who got lucky enough to model for the world's top magazines," she said, mimicking him.

  They laughed, and the waiter came by to take orders. They ordered two lemonades.

  "So . . . where are your friends?"

  "Luther?"

  "Yes." Her cheeks flushed. "I'm not going to pretend with you. You see, I've never had a simple, honest friendship with a man before. Somehow my relationships with them always got complicated." She touched his hand. "Your friendship is too important to throw away with pretense and prevarication."

  He should end the charade. Now. But if he told the truth to save one friendship, he would be jeopardizing another. Looking at the problem from all angles, he decided the truth would serve no purpose except to destroy both Rose Anne and Luther's confidence in him.

  The truth would set you free, the tiny voice of his conscience told him.

  "What's wrong?" she said, squeezing his hand.

  "Why do you ask?"

  "A sadness came into your eyes."

  "It was the thought of you . . . big as a wash- tub. You do plan to have children, don't you?"

  She smiled. "I love children. I have three lively nephews and two beautiful nieces. Someday I'd like to have some of my own."

  "Luther's a handsome man."

  "Things certainly haven't gone that far." Color came into her cheeks again, and he remembered his night music and how she had said it seduced her. "And they never will unless he tells me face- to-face all the lovely things he says in his letters."

  "He's at the Louvre, by the way."

  "He loves art?"

  "Yes."

  "That figures. He's a poet, a musician. Naturally he would like the visual arts as well."

  "Well ... I don't know that he's all that much of a poet. . . ."

  "Oh, Sid." She squeezed his hand, laughing. "Someday you're going to
fall in love, and suddenly all the romantic notions you scoff at won't seem silly anymore."

  "Ah, love. Another silly notion."

  With their hands still joined, they looked at each other. Something moved in her eyes, something bright and full of wonder. Sid held her gaze, basking in it, drowning in it.

  The ice in their lemonade glasses melted and fell apart with a pop. And still they stared.

  She flicked her tongue over her full bottom lip. Sid's blood pressure went up.

  Rose Anne was the first to pull away. Self-conscious, she pressed her hand against her throat.

  "It's getting late. I wonder what's keeping Aunt Bitsy?

  "Do you want me to walk with you to the dress shop and see if we can find her?"

  "Thank you, but I'm perfectly capable of walking alone."

  "What? A woman in your condition! I wouldn't hear of it, sis." He held back her chair, then tucked her arm through his. "Or do you want me to call you Ruby?"

  "You're so crazy. Don't ever change." She laughed up at him. "And by the way, when you see Aunt Bitsy, act smitten."

  They found Bitsy in the dress shop, gussied up like a Thanksgiving turkey. She had been tucked and squeezed into a girdle and a waist cincher, then cajoled into a stunning designer dress that emphasized her newly streaked red and gold hair.

  Sid whistled, then bowed deeply over her hand. "If Ruby here is not careful, you're going to do her out of a job."

  "Ruby?" Bitsy Rucker raised a newly plucked eyebrow.

  "It's a long story. I'll tell you on the way to lunch." Rose Anne held her hand out to Sid. "Thanks . . . for everything."

  "All in a day's rescue, sis." He left the shop, whistling.

  "Sis?"

  Rose Anne tucked her arm through Bitsy's. "Come on. Auntie. We have lot to talk about."

  o0o

  "You've got to tell her, Luther. Today."

  "I don't know if I can." Luther fiddled with his tie. "How do I look, Eagle?"

  "Like a man who can be Lightning in a courtship as well as in the skies."

  "Oh, hell." Luther ran his hands through his hair, then crossed to the mirror and took Sid's comb to repair the damage.

  The two of them were in Sid's apartment, waiting for the arrival of their buddies. The plan was simple. Eagle, Panther, Gunslinger, and Hawk would go to the air show as planned, but Lightning would stay behind to bring the Face. He had suggested they rent a van and all go together, but Panther had hooted at the idea. "You've got to court her in style," he'd said. "By the time you get her to the air show, she should already be falling over you, panting to hop into the sack." One look at Eagle's face had caused him to moderate his advice. "Or into the nearest restaurant for a good steak dinner."

  Remembering that conversation, Sid scowled. He didn't know which was going to fall apart first, his temper or the charade. If things didn't break soon, he was going to leave Paris, fly over to Madrid or Naples or even to London. Anywhere would be better than the protracted agony of Paris, of seeing Rose Anne every day, of watching her fall in love with his words, his music . . . and his best friend.

  "Do you love her, Luther?"

  "I think so."

  "You think?"

  "You sound like a grizzly bear. What's the matter with you?"

  "This charade is not right. It's gone too far. If you love her, tell her so."

  "I can't say it the way you can."

  "Just say what you feel. If she loves you, pretty words won't matter."

  "Well . . . I'll try."

  "Good."

  "I know I've asked a lot of you. Eagle. Don't think I don't know how hard all this has been on you. You, with all your scruples and high-minded principles."

  He didn't know the half of it. Sid hid his turmoil behind a big grin. Luther was his flying buddy, and he would die for him. Almost had, as a matter of fact.

  "That's what friends are for." He clasped Luther's shoulder.

  o0o

  Rose Anne was ready for the air show a full thirty minutes before Luther arrived. Her azure blue dress was comfortable and made her feel confident.

  "How do I look?" She twirled around the room for Bitsy.

  "You've asked me that a dozen times, and I've told you a dozen times. You look astonishingly gorgeous. All of Paris will be watching you instead of the airplanes."

  Rose Anne rubbed her hands together. Her palms were moist. Why was she so nervous over a simple date?

  Echoes of the dark, passionate music swept through her. Her body tingled and she became breathless. The date wasn't so simple after all.

  She jumped when the knock came.

  "Wish me luck. Auntie," she whispered as she walked to the door.

  "Good luck, honey." Bitsy kissed her cheek. "And I do mean that."

  Rose Anne took a deep breath, then opened the door. Luther was standing in the hallway, polite, nice, neat, and handsome—head-turning handsome.

  Then why was she standing there, waiting for the earth to move and feeling nothing, not even a tiny tremor. Rose Anne clung to the doorknob, waiting for the shock waves to hit. His poetry and his music tumbled through her mind, but even the memories of that couldn't stir her.

  Perhaps she was merely tired. The luncheon the day before had been exceedingly tiresome. If it hadn't been for watching Charlie do a double take over Bitsy, and Bitsy flirting with Charlie, Rose Anne couldn't have endured it.

  "Hello," Luther said.

  "Won't you come in?" Rose Anne held the door wide. Maybe when he passed through she'd suffocate from his body heat.

  "Well ... I guess we ought to be going."

  "All right, then. I'll be right back."

  She'd stepped out on the balcony earlier and had felt a nip in the air. She got her jacket, stopped long enough to kiss Bitsy's cheek, then joined Luther.

  He had rented a Jaguar for the day. It was the sort of extravagant, romantic gesture she might have expected from him. But even inside the snazzy little car, the earth still didn't move.

  "You're beautiful," he said.

  "Thank you."

  "I guess I already said that once."

  "No, you haven't."

  "Well . . . you're beautiful."

  Rose Anne's heart sank. From Luther she expected poetry, rhapsodies. Of course, she hadn't done all that well in the conversation department herself. She tried again.

  "Tell me about your work, Luther. About flying."

  "It's nice."

  "Your friends call you Lightning, I believe."

  "Yes."

  She sat on her side of the car and watched tourists out the window. Luther drove, staring straight ahead as if he expected to run into enemy territory at any minute. Dancing with him had been so easy. Especially after that lovely note he'd sent to her table. But then, they hadn't been required to talk.

  Maybe he had a note in his pocket. Maybe he'd run to the rest room and memorize it after he parked the car. Then he'd spend the rest of the day dazzling her with his golden tongue.

  She sighed. She was being silly. Expecting too much. Wasn't that what Sid had called love and romance? A silly notion?

  The thought of him made her smile.

  "Is Sid already at the air show?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "He says that men who love flying never get far from the skies."

  "Yes."

  "Tell me what it feels like, being up there in control of such a powerful machine."

  "It's . . . uh . . . very nice."

  Where were all the lyrical words? Where was that mellifluous voice? Luther's voice bore no resemblance to the magnificent voice she'd heard lifted in song night after night. Maybe a transformation occurred when he sat down at the piano. Maybe she should have packed a piano.

  She was being petty and critical. To make up for it, she moved across the seat and linked her hand through his arm.

  He almost sideswiped a car in the neighboring lane. After he straightened out the wheel, he grinned sheepishly at her.

/>   “Sorry. It's just . . . you're so damned beautiful."

  "Thank you."

  Moving back to her side of the car, she sighed. Romantic love had been dealt a severe blow. In fact, it was in dire need of resuscitation. Maybe a miracle would happen at the air show.

  Chapter Five

  The crowd at the Paris Air Show was in a holiday mood. Rose Anne found it catching. The roar of jets filled the skies and the roar of the crowd filled the air. Bright dresses and bright laughter competed with each other for attention.

  Hanging on to Luther's arm. Rose Anne craned her neck, trying to see everything at once.

  "It's marvelous," she said.

  "Yes, it is. This is one of the reasons I love coming to Paris."

  At last Luther was opening up. Her hopes soared.

  "Oh, look. There's Sid."

  Although he was too far away to have heard her, he turned just as she spoke. She waved and started to call out a greeting to him, but the words died in her throat. Everything she had been waiting for happened all at once. The earth moved, sending shock wave after shock wave rippling through her. She curled her toes in her shoes.

  She and Luther moved inexorably closer to Sid.

  "Careful, Rose Anne," Luther said.

  If she hadn't been holding on to him, she would have fallen.

  Sid's gaze held hers. Somewhere up in the skies the pilots were executing a daring move. The spectators craned their necks, sighing a collective gasp as the daring stunt was completed. Sid and Rose Anne saw only each other.

  She was breathless by the time she and Luther arrived at their seats.

  "And how is the fair Ruby today?" Sid leaned close and whispered in her ear. "No morning sickness?"

  "With my protective brother nearby? Not a chance."

  Sid leaned around her to shake Luther's hand. When his shoulder touched her arm she felt the shock waves again.

  This is ridiculous, she told herself. She turned staunchly toward Luther and began asking him every question she could think of about the planes and the pilots to get him talking, to get her attention off Sid, to make her forget the way he made her skin tingle and her breath short and her heart thump too fast.

  It was a valiant effort, but it didn't work. All her senses were attuned to Sid. She felt as if a giant magnet were centered in him, pulling at her so hard, she thought she would end up wrapped around him. She felt giddy and anxious, happy and unaccountably sad.