Promises in the Night: A Classic Romance - Book 2 (10 page)

Larkin suddenly made up her mind. She unclasped the fine gold chain and handed it to Patti. “Here,” she said, “with my best regards.”

“Are you crazy?” Patti said, looking at the beautifully crafted necklace. “It’s yours.”

Larkin shook her head. “Not anymore.” She didn’t need or want any tacit agreements with Vladimir that went beyond speaking at the Center. “Enjoy.”

“I will,” Patti said, putting the necklace on. “Does this mean I get Karpov, too?”

“He’s an extremely charming man, Patti, but you’ll only end up with a broken heart.”

Patti shrugged. “I’ve had my heart broken by lesser men,” she said. “Why not have my heart broken by the best?”

Larkin sighed. “Be careful what you wish for, Patti. You just might get it.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Patti said, opening a soda. “I can take care of myself.”

Larkin nodded. She wished she could say the same. For hours now, she’d found herself wondering about Erika Lewin Jakobs, the woman Alex had loved and married—and lost. Her beginner dance students had done a simple tap routine with more flair and precision than she, a fact that had generated a bit of good-natured teasing. They had assumed love was the reason for her silly mistakes, and she hadn’t discouraged that.

In a way, love
was
to blame.

She had played second fiddle to Vladimir’s career; she’d played second fiddle to more “other women” than she cared to think about.

But this time, with Alex Jakobs, she’d rather not get involved if it meant playing second fiddle to a woman who existed only in his heart. She wasn’t sure that she could bounce back quite so easily this time.

Across the room Patti groaned. “What I wouldn’t give for a pizza right now.” She looked at Larkin. “Can I convince you to share one with me?”

“I’m not that hungry, Patti. Ask Gordon. Maybe he’d split it with you.”

Patti buzzed Gordon in the storeroom, and a few seconds later he appeared in the doorway. He looked over at Larkin. “Yes?”

“Not me this time,” she said, smiling at him. “Your sister wants to know if you’re in the mood for a pepperoni with extra cheese.”

His gaze lingered on her for a second; then he turned to Patti. “I suppose you want me to pick it up, don’t you?” Patti grinned. “And one more Diet Coke.”

“Make it two,” Larkin said. “I should have known I couldn’t resist.”

Gordon turned to her again. This time his face had the peculiar look of one who’d just awakened from a long and restless sleep. Larkin suddenly felt uncomfortable, and she pushed Alex’s words from her mind. “Is my mascara smudged?” she asked lightly.

He shook his head and averted his eyes once again. “Do you want me to go to Lorenzo’s and get it?” he asked Patti.

“You don’t mind, do you, Gord? I have to be here when the tarot card class comes in to register.” She fiddled with the ballet shoes charm that glittered around her neck. Gordon’s eyes suddenly seemed riveted to it.

“Where did that come from?”

Patti winked at Larkin. “I haven’t wanted it to leak out to the press, brother dear, but Vladimir Karpov and I are an item.”

Gordon didn’t smile or laugh or do any of the things Larkin might have expected him to do.

“Where did you get it, Patti?” he asked.

Larkin sat up straighter on the couch. A peculiar buzzing tension raced through her body.

“You don’t believe me, little brother?” Patti asked. Larkin detected annoyance cloaked inside the light tone of Patti’s voice. “I’m highly insulted.”

“Don’t make a fool out of me, Patti,” he said. “You don’t even know Karpov.”

Patti laughed. Larkin had the distinct feeling that her assistant was carrying the charade too far. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, brother mine,” she said airily. “Karpov and I have been intimate for years.”

This time Gordon said nothing at all. He just turned around and left. Seconds later they heard the sound of the back door slamming shut.

“What in hell was the matter with him?” Patti shook her head in amazement. “Can’t he take a joke?”

“Apparently not,” Larkin said
.
“Maybe you should go a little easier on him, Patti.”

Patti looked down at the charm around her neck and sighed. “If it wasn’t so absurd, I’d almost think he was jealous.”

An involuntary shiver raced through Larkin. “It almost seemed that way, didn’t it?” she mused. She had been so busy dwelling on Rikki Jakobs that Alex’s warning had completely slipped her mind. Could there be more to his suspicions than simple garden-variety jealousy? “Has Gordon said anything to you lately?”

Patti made a face. “Gordon is as silent as the grave,” she said as they heard the roar of his Chevy’s engine starting up. “He keeps everything bottled up inside him. Why do you think he had so much trouble after our folks died?”

Sorrow did strange things to people, Larkin knew. Losing her parents had set Patti Franklin off on an endless quest for love. Patti, however, was the first to admit her problem. Larkin wondered what it
was
that Gordon was seeking.

The old Chevy barreled down the driveway and screeched out into the traffic on Main Street. “Do you think he’ll be all right?” Larkin asked.

Patti looked at her and smiled. “Of course he’ll be all right,” she said. “I just hope he remembers to get the Diet Cokes.”

H
e hadn’t made
himself clear enough.

The shadows had been his home for so long that what seemed so clear to him was obscured for everyone else.

He had thought his gesture both romantic and obvious, and the sight of it against her skin had been almost as good as the touch of her mouth against his.

He could still see her in that man’s arms, her slender body pulled up against him until she couldn’t break away. He would never forget that split second of panic on her lovely face when the man claimed her mouth with his.

It would never be like that with him. He understood kindness and tenderness. A woman like that was too special to maul in a parking lot as if she were some cheap whore.

Maybe the car hadn’t been warning enough.

Maybe he would have to step out of the shadows long enough to make very sure his message was understood. He didn’t want to wait forever for her.

T
here was
no denying the fact that Alex and Larkin had reached a turning point, but unfortunately, that turning point seemed to lead away from their growing relationship.

Two long late night phone calls and one splendid evening of dinner and dancing had failed to bridge the gap, and Alex was beginning to feel that Roger Lacey’s costume party just might mean the end of his relationship with Larkin—whatever that relationship might be.

A few days before the party he turned to Judy Lincoln for consolation and advice.

“I can’t believe it,” Judy said over coffee in her kitchen. “Alex Jakobs, famous psychologist, comes to a lowly mathematician for advice.” She slipped her hand inside her blouse and made it flutter with her fingers. “Be still, my heart.”

“Cut it out, Judy,” Alex said, grabbing another onion bagel and loading it with cream cheese. “I need a woman’s opinion:”

“About a patient?”

“About me.”

“Is there a woman, Alex?”

“Yes.”

“Serious?” Judy’s eyes twinkled.

“Would I have flown down here in the middle of the week if it weren’t?”

“I thought my western omelet might have been the attraction.”

“Not this time, Jude.” He told her about Larkin, about the intense attraction he felt toward her.

Judy polished off the rest of her hash browns. “Terrific,” she said, looking up at him. “What’s the problem?”

This was the tough part. “It’s hard to explain.”

Judy raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Alex. We’ve known each other way too long for this.”

He dragged his hand through his hair, an old nervous gesture of his “Lately I find myself thinking about Rikki all the time,” he said quietly. The dreams had been coming every night, haunting him. “I know it’s irrational, but I feel guilty as all hell.”

“You know better than that, Alex. Phil would say—”

“Phil would say exactly what I would say. I don’t want a professional opinion, Judy, I want a personal one.”

Old friends had certain privileges, and Judy took advantage of one of them. “I don’t think you’re feeling guilty, Jakobs. I think you’re feeling scared.”

He winced. “Whatever happened to beating around the bush?”

“Is that what you wanted me to do?”

He shook his head, and Judy grinned.

“I didn’t think so,” she said.

“This is all new to me. The last time I felt like this I was thirteen years old and the victim of raging hormones.”

“Are you in love with Larkin Walker?”

He took his time before he answered, weighing carefully all the things besides chemistry that drew him to her. “Ten days ago I would have said yes. Now it seems as if we’ve taken a giant step backward.”

“Does she know you were married?”

“I told Larkin all about Rikki.”

“Maybe she’s feeling intimidated, Alex. What you and Rikki shared spanned a lot of years.”

“I don’t think the problem’s with Larkin,” he said. There was no point in evading the issue any longer. “I think the problem’s mine.” He told Judy about the shower of red roses Larkin received from Vladimir Karpov and his own decidedly adolescent response to them. “I want Larkin to accept the fact I’ve loved before, but when I see proof she’s loved some other man, I turn into a jealous fool.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Who wouldn’t be a bit put off by someone like Karpov?”

“You’ve heard of him?”

“What rock have you been lying under?”

“You know I’m not into ballet.”

“You don’t have to be into ballet to be aware of Karpov,” Judy said. “He was front page news when he defected to the United States in the reading room of the New York Public Library. I think another dancer helped shelter him and—” She stopped and stared at Alex. “My God! Larkin?”

Alex nodded. “One and the same.”

“I think I understand how you’re feeling. Karpov is probably the most charismatic, sexy man who ever—”

He raised his hand. “Spare me the details. I think I get the general drift, Judy.”

Judy made a show of looking him over. “You’re not exactly a slouch in the looks department either, Jakobs. If I didn’t have Phil, I just might give Ms. Walker a run for her money.”

”You’re too kind,” he said dryly. “I’m a moody, intense psychologist, not a jet-setter dancer.”

“She’s not with that jet-setter dancer anymore, is she?” Judy got up to toast another bagel. Alex wondered how she managed to stay so slim when she ate like a starving truck driver. “He may be gorgeous, but something obviously was lacking. If the gossip rags are correct, he’s second in line only to Warren Beatty in the one night stand department.”

“You can’t believe everything you read, Judy.”

“Well, I don’t see the problem. You’re brilliant, handsome and loyal. What more could she want?”

“Excitement,” he said. “A touch of fantasy. We’ve only known each other a few weeks, and already we’re bogged down in reality.”

“You want to start over again with Larkin, right? You want to sweep her off her feet and make her forget Karpov ever existed.”

“Have you ever thought of becoming a therapist?”

“Heaven forbid! I’m the sane one in this family.” She gave him the same smile he’d seen her bestow on Tommy and Cameron. “It seems to me you have the perfect opportunity right under your all-too-literal nose.”

Alex knew he must have an idiotic expression on his face, but he couldn’t help it. He had no idea what Judy was talking about.

She sighed. “Alex, Alex, what am I going to do with you? Don’t you know anything about costume parties?”

“I know they’re a chance for grown men and women to make fools of themselves by dressing up as Cabbage Patch Kids and Mr. T. Beyond that, I can’t see where Lacey’s party means anything more than that.”

“How little you know about life,” Judy said. “Sit back, Alex, and I’ll tell you all about the erotic possibilities inherent in a costume party. I think you’ll be surprised.”

He was.

And Larkin would be even more surprised when she saw him.

R
oger was modeling
his costume for his Halloween party four days from now, and Larkin found it difficult to muster the requisite amount of enthusiasm.

“Really, darling,” he said as he slipped out of his feather boa, “the least you could do is feign polite interest.”

“I’m sorry. I guess my mind is elsewhere.”

“Dare I hazard a guess? You’re thinking about Dr. J.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Sometimes.” He sat down next to her on his sleek black sofa. “Feel like talking about it? I’ve been told I’m a first rate listener.”

Roger Lacey could make her laugh, and there were times when his sarcastic wit could make her furious, but when Larkin needed him, he was always there for her. This time was no exception.

“Is the road to romance a bit rocky these days?”

She shook her head. “1 wish it were that simple.”

“Things are going well?”

“I don’t really know. When I’m with Alex everything is fine--wonderful, actually.” She paused, searching for the right way to explain the emotions that had been keeping her up late the past two weeks. “It’s when we’re apart that the doubts start creeping in.”

Roger motioned toward the copy of
People
magazine on her coffee table. Vladimir Karpov’s face smiled up at them in all its Slavic splendor. “Are you beginning to yearn for the Blond Bombshell?”

Vladimir was a physically splendid man, and she would be a liar if she said some of her memories didn’t still make her knees grow slightly rubbery. However, she also remembered why their relationship had ended—and how long it had taken her to recover her self-respect.

No, she wasn’t likely to make that mistake a second time. “It’s not my past love I’m worried about, Roger,” she said finally. “It’s his.”

Roger grinned wickedly. “Has some raven-haired beauty from his deep, dark past slithered back into town?”

“A redhead,” she said. “Rikki was a redhead.”

“No competition. Redheads freckle in the sun.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at this absurd statement. “A perfect tan is the gateway to happiness?”

“That and a perfect body.”

“I’m being serious, Roger.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m trying, Larkin, but it’s tough to stay serious when you’re wearing a padded bra.”

She reached inside his sequined gown and pulled out the pair of falsies. She tossed them behind the couch. “Now you have no excuse.”

“So tell me about this Rikki you’re so worried about. Were they together a long time? Are you afraid they’re still seeing each other?”

“They were together about eighteen years.”

Roger whistled low. “High school sweethearts?”

She nodded. “They married when he was just eighteen.”

“And you think he’s still carrying a torch for her?”

She felt a distinct pain in her chest. “It’s a possibility.”

“Well, where’s your fire, girl? I’ve never known you to take a back seat to anyone.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“You’ve said that before.” He slipped a denim work shirt over his strapless gown. “They’re not together anymore, are they?” he asked. “That counts for something. Possession
is
nine-tenths of the law.”

“They didn’t break up, Roger,” she said. “Rikki died.”

His grin faded. “That changes things, doesn’t it?”

“More than you know.” She told Roger much of what Alex had told her, being careful to withhold the more intimate details in deference to Alex’s personal privacy. “They were totally involved with each other—one of those relationships where you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.”

Even the normally cynical Roger Lacey seemed moved by what she chose to tell him. “The type of relationship we’re all looking for?”

She nodded.

“That’s a tough act to follow, kid.”

“I know.” She didn’t need Roger to confirm her fears.

“You were supposed to tell me not to worry.”

“Don’t worry.”

“You don’t sound very convincing.”

“Sorry,” he said, “but I can’t play fairy godmother and wave a magic wand to make it all come out okay.”

“That was a terrible choice of metaphor,” she said, suppressing a chuckle, “but I understand what you’re trying to say.”

“What was she like?” Roger poured them each a glass of wine. “Working woman? Doctor? Lawyer? Indian chief? Mother of three?”

“She was Alex’s wife,” Larkin said slowly. “She taught school for a while, but primarily she was Alex’s wife.”

“An old-fashioned marriage?”

Larkin nodded. The parallel between her parents’ marriage and the Jakobses’ was not lost on her.

“Are you jealous of what she had with him?”

Leave it to Roger to zero in on the heart of the matter. “A little.”

“This is me you’re talking to, Larkin.”

She grinned. “A lot. I know it’s ridiculous to feel this way, but there it is. I just can’t help it. I want to see pictures of her. I wonder about the sound of her voice. She was everything to him, and I don’t know if I could ever give myself to a man in quite that way again.”

“Has our good doctor asked you to marry him, then?”

“No”

“Have you shared—how shall I say it—physical pleasure with each other?”

“You’re getting a little personal, Roger.”

“I’ll take that righteous indignation to mean no.” He leaned forward and took her hand. “So what’s the problem, then, darling? Enjoy what you have, and don’t ask questions. Life is serious enough. Don’t look for trouble.”

“I wish it were that easy.”

“But it
is
that easy. All you have to do is weave a little bit of fantasy around the two of you and put reality on hold for a while.”

“Don’t go getting strange on me, Roger.”

He scowled. “You have a filthy mind. What I’m talking about even Ron and Nancy would approve of.”

“I come to you for advice and I get riddles instead.”

“How can you claim to hail from Las Vegas and know so little about fantasy? Where’s your creative imagination, Walker?”

“I don’t have any,” she said, grinning. “The. Learning Center hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Don’t you see?” He was practically shouting at her. “My Halloween party is the perfect time for you and Dr. J. to create a few new fantasies of your own.”

“You’ve lost me, Roger. I don’t see what your pagan ritual has to do with anything.”

“You’re beyond redemption, Walker. Maybe it’s time you forgot about his wife and your ex-beau—” he glanced down at the magazine cover and sighed melodramatically “—and started over again.”

There was a certain charm to his idea. “And you think wearing a costume will help?”

“As long as it’s not a tutu.”

“I don’t think Alex would wear a tutu.”

“More’s the pity,” Roger shot back. “It’s you I won’t let in the door in one.”

She gave him a wicked grin. “I’ve been thinking of corning as Shirley Temple. My tap shoes are—”

Roger lunged for her throat. “Do I have to teach you everything? Think seduction! Think sex! Think—”

“Concubine?”

“That’s the spirit!”

“A harem dancer?”

“A little clichéd, perhaps, but you’ve got the idea.”

“I can see it now,” she said, beginning to catch his enthusiasm. “Veils, jewels in the navel, the mysterious lure of the East...”

Hadn’t Alex himself mentioned a harem girl as one of his prime fantasies? She bubbled over with ideas.

“Whose fantasy is this?” Roger asked finally. “You’re supposed to concentrate on fulfilling
his
fantasies, not yours, Larkin.”

She gave her friend a quick hug. “That’s where you’re wrong, Roger.”

Creating this fantasy world for Alex was something she was doing all for herself.

T
he transition
from sedate psychologist to swashbuckling pirate had been easier than Alex cared to admit. The second he donned those tight-fitting pants and thigh-high boots in the privacy of the dressing room at Calley’s Costumes on Jericho Turnpike, he was hooked.

Okay, so he had a few shaky moments on the way to Roger’s when he stopped for gas and three young women in a Trans Am made some pointed suggestions about his sword but, all in all, this whole idea seemed to be working.