Chapter Four #2
The remainder of the visit was strained, with both women pretending an ease neither felt. Skye left shortly afterward.
Confused and unsettled, Skye drove home in a thoughtful mood.
How could Peggy have been so blunt? Skye had worked hard to overcome her grief.
It was true that for a while she had lost her will to live.
Something deep within her had died with Glen.
But she was a free spirit now, free to love and be loved.
Hadn’t she always been? Peggy had never hurt her this way before.
It was true Skye seldom dated anyone for long, but that wasn’t because she was carrying a torch for Glen.
There were very few men who interested her.
Certainly all the dates Sally had arranged over the years should prove that to her sister-in-law. Nonetheless Peggy’s attitude stung.
About a mile from home the car coughed and sputtered. Skye tensed. “Not again,” she said, groaning inwardly. Suddenly the
buzzer to her seat belt began to hiss, although it was connected. The radio began making eerie, high-pitched screeches, fading
in and out. She had purposely turned it off in order to think. Quickly she pulled her small Ford to the curb before it gave
one final cough and died.
“Blast it.” Her hand banged the steering wheel impatiently. First Peggy’s comment and now this! She tried turning the ignition
key but was met with silence.
“I can’t believe it!” She opened her car door, climbed out, and in a burst of frustration slammed the door shut. She didn’t
even bother to look under the hood, knowing it was useless for her to try to figure out what was wrong.
It began to rain about halfway home, an angry torrent that added fuel to her bad mood. She was drenched by the time she arrived
at her apartment building. Heavy drops of rain ran off her hair and face as she paused to unlock her door.
John Dirkson stuck his head out of his apartment and greeted her with a flashy grin. “I see you got yourself all wet and cold.
I’m perfectly willing to warm you up,” he offered, with all the subtlety of a serpent.
“Oh, shut up, John,” Skye stormed, and shut her door in his surprised face. Feeling chilled, she started a bath.
No more than two minutes later her doorbell rang impatiently.
Stamping her foot irritably, she turned off the water. Luckily she hadn’t gotten around to undressing.
“Don’t hassle me, John, I’m in no mood to—” She stopped dead in midsentence. It was Jordan. What was he doing here? Oh, no,
not him. Why hadn’t he returned to LA? Why didn’t he just get out of her life?
“Do I detect a note of anger?” he asked, amused, letting himself in.
Skye gave a short sarcastic laugh. “Angry? Me? That’s my problem: I don’t have the common sense to get good and mad every
now and then. People think they can take advantage of me, that I won’t fight back. They think of me as Holly Holiness.”
Irrationally she paced the floor, waving her hands.
“A Pollyanna?” Jordan inserted.
“Exactly!” She stopped and looked at him momentarily. “I’m as even-tempered and coolheaded as the next person. But I’ll only
be driven so far.”
The amusement left Jordan’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“You know what my problem is?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “I never let loose. I let people walk all over me. Well, I’m
good and loose now,” she said as she continued pacing. “I don’t smoke. I don’t swear. I’ve never marched in a protest rally.
I didn’t even burn my bra when it was the popular thing to do.” She stopped to take a quick breath. “Well, I’ve had just about
as much as I’m going to take.”
“Skye?”
She ignored him.
“Skye?” He spoke louder.
“I’m taking the mechanic to court. I’ll sue him for every penny. He’ll . . .”
She didn’t get the opportunity to finish. Jordan swiftly caught her arm and pulled her flush against him. Before she could
protest, his mouth captured hers.
Taken completely by surprise, Skye felt the anger drain away, replaced by a budding awareness. She was frightened that she
should respond to him like this, all consideration of her anger and her plight erased by a single action.
She broke the contact, raising her questioning eyes to his. His look trapped her, warm and sensual. Slowly his hand slid over
her back, drawing her closer to him.
Taking an uneven breath in confusion, Skye made a feeble attempt to break away. Undaunted, he continued the gentle caress,
slowly drawing her into his protective embrace. When he lowered his mouth to hers, her lips parted in anticipation.
Why does it have to be him? her mind questioned unreasonably. His very touch seemed to bring her suddenly back to life. She was caught in the sensual
awareness and yet felt frightened and unsure. If this continued, Jordan Kiley could easily become a weakness she might not
be able to overcome. Forcefully she tore her lips from his and, taking a deep breath, struggled to regain her bearings.
“Jordan, please, this is important,” she insisted.
“I know,” he said, his voice thick and husky as he explored the side of her neck.
“Please, stop.” She was breathless yet fervent. “Kissing me isn’t going to fix my car.”
He straightened, his mouth curving into smiling grooves. “Ah, but my arm aches considerably less.”
She broke contact, moving purposefully away from him. “I . . . I think aspirin would work far more effectively.”
He shrugged, his glance focusing on her lips as if to say it wasn’t aspirin he was interested in.
Her pique rose. “Darn it, Jordan Kiley, don’t look at me like that. I’m stuck with a useless piece of junk, and you want to
play spin the bottle.”
Promptly he pulled her back into his arms and placed a quick kiss upon her unsuspecting lips. “Settle down, or I’ll be forced
to take drastic measures.”
She stared up at him wordlessly, swallowing tightly.
“Now, what’s wrong with your car?”
She couldn’t answer. Her heart was hammering so wildly, it made clear thinking impossible. She lowered her head, not wanting
Jordan to see the effect he had on her.
His free hand gently lifted her face. “Your car?”
“It’s not running again.” Her voice didn’t sound right, even to herself. “It stalled last week, and I couldn’t get it started.
I phoned the car dealership where I’d bought it, and they put a new battery in. The mechanic said since the car is three years
old, that probably was the problem.”
“Who’s the mechanic?”
“George somebody. He works for Olsen Ford, where I bought the car.”
“And?”
“Well, it died again the other day, and this George said it needed a new alteration.”
“Alternator,” Jordan supplied with a grin.
“Whatever!” she said irritably. “Anyway, the car did it again today. That’s why I’m drenched. I had to leave it and walk home.”
A flickering light of anger entered his eyes. “I’ll handle it for you.”
“No,” she challenged sharply. “It’s going to give me a great deal of pleasure to talk to these people.”
A light rap on her door stiffened her instinctively. She wasn’t expecting anyone.
A tall, well-dressed man of towering bulk greeted her.
“Jordan here?” He placed heavy emphasis on Jordan, his expression alive with amusement.
“Bill.” The name was spoken with no welcome as Jordan moved toward the man. “I said I’d only be a minute.”
The huge man shrugged. “I got tired of waiting” was the only excuse he offered. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“Bill Malloy, Skye Garvin.” The introduction was issued grudgingly.
Bill Malloy smiled warmly at Skye, and his strong hand closed firmly over hers. “You’re everything Jordan said and more.”
He released her hand slowly. His eyes, trapping hers, possessed a mocking gleam.
“Weren’t we on our way to a meeting?” Jordan asked curtly.
“We were.” Bill smiled. “I know how Dan hates to be kept waiting.”
“Then let’s get moving.” Jordan’s voice sounded thin and brittle.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Skye.” Jordan’s friend’s gaze continued to hold hers.
“Yes,” she said in some confusion. Her attention darted from one man to the other. Bill was finding something highly amusing,
but what? Jordan was recognizably upset. His lips were firmly compressed, as if he was holding his anger tightly in check.
“I’ll phone you,” he promised Skye, ushering his friend out the door. Gently his hand touched her cheek.
Skye watched them go, thoroughly bewildered. Jordan had never mentioned why he’d stopped by. Although he hadn’t said he was
returning to LA, Skye had gotten the impression he was. She honestly hadn’t expected to see him again.
A shiver danced over her skin, reminding her she was wet. She didn’t care to ponder the question of what exactly had caused her skin to quiver.
The bathwater steamed up the bathroom mirror. It was a luxury to linger in the tub. Skye could actually feel the hot water
chase away her chill. Scooping the moisture over herself with the washcloth, her thoughts drifted back to her visit with Peggy.
It was almost unbelievable that her sister-in-law would talk to her like that. And because the things Peggy said were so untrue,
it hurt all the more. Skye had come so far, considering that the grief had been overwhelming at first. It was as if the pieces
of her life had crumbled before her. But simply because she was a living, breathing soul, she found herself forced into a
resilient, elastic world. Although others cared, they couldn’t know the emotional torture she had endured. Suddenly a gnawing
pain swelled inside her until her eyes burned with tears.
Resting her head against the back of the tub, she stared sightlessly at the ceiling, tears streaming unheeded down her face.
Could it be that Peggy was right? Had all this grief lain just below the surface, not really being dealt with at all? Skye
examined the last eight years of her life. Had she really made a martyr of herself? Deflecting male relationships and commitment
to another man? But Glen had been so special. He was the only man she’d ever loved, ever wanted. Loving another would betray