Danielle Steel - Lightning

“Very sick,” he confirmed to her with a look of sorrow.

I'm sorry.

“Me too. That's not easy for her, or for me. And it makes things a little confusing.”

“I didn't mean to add to the confusion,” she said, sitting so close to him that he could see down her dress and he loved what he saw there.

“You didn't add to the confusion at all. Don't apologize. This is the most fun I've had in years …and I need it, very badly.” He looked at her again and something came between them just then that surprised him, there was an exchange of real feelings. This wasn't playtime anymore, this was a person he could talk to, and suddenly he didn't want to leave her. “Shall we have a last dance?” It was not what he had intended at all, and he was annoyed at himself for a moment, and then overwhelmed with tenderness and desire for her as they danced cheek to cheek to the music. Her body molded against his, it was as though he'd been made for her and she for him, and they danced through two more songs, and finally he forced himself to leave her. He walked her back to Simon, regretfully, like a borrowed jewel he hated to return, but knew he had to.

“You two seem to be having a good time,” he said pointedly. He could see what had been happening, and he was intrigued by it. Sam didn't seem the type for extramarital adventures, but he was sure coming on to his cousin. Then again maybe he was all talk, he was going home, wasn't he? “She's a little vixen, isn't she?” Simon teased.

“Take good care of her,” Sam said seriously, and then left them. He was lost in thought all the way home in the cab, remembering what it had been like dancing with her. It was a memory he wouldn't soon forget, and as he walked into the apartment, he felt guilty toward Alex. And even more so, when he walked into his bedroom and saw Carmen's message from her on his pillow. But that night it wasn't Alex's face he saw as he drifted off to sleep. It was Daphne's.

Chapter 9

He called Alex the next morning when he got up, but the nurse said she was in therapy, and wouldn't be back for half an hour. And by then, he was on his way downtown to the office. He had a client waiting for him, and a thousand phone calls to make, and he didn't have a chance to call her again. And after his clients left, he ran into Daphne in the hallway. Her face lit up like spring the moment she saw him, but she was extremely polite and businesslike as they chatted for a few minutes, and then she walked slowly back to his office with him and said that she hoped she hadn't made a nuisance of herself the night before. She had gotten carried away, and from now on, it would be strictly business, she promised.

“How disappointing,” he laughed at her. “I think I was the nuisance.”

“Not at all.” Her voice was a caress, but her behavior was completely proper, and very English. “I don't usually make a habit of chasing married men. You're just so attractive, Sam, you really should be sprayed with dark paint, or have a bag over your head before you go out with strangers. You're really quite dangerous.” She flattered him and she played, and he loved it.

“I suppose I should have stayed home,” he said unconvincingly, “but I had an awfully good time, particularly at the nightclub.”

“So did I,” she said hauntingly, and suddenly they both realized they were flirting.

“What do we do about this?” He acknowledged it with a smile before she did.

“I'm not sure yet. Cold showers, I suppose. I've never tried that.”

“Maybe we should try them together,” he said, and then regretted it. He couldn't seem to handle being anywhere near her, all he wanted was to be with her, and charm and seduce her. This had never happened to him before, and he had no idea what to do to stop it. They were like matchsticks near a flame, and the conflagration was instant. “We're just going to have to behave,” he said finally and firmly.

“Yes, sir,” she saluted him with a smile, and then disappeared down the hall to her office next to Simon's. But as she went, he stood there watching her, unable to keep his eyes off her figure.

“Watch out!” Larry, his old partner, said as he passed him in the hall. “She's dangerous …English girls are,” he whispered.

“Why has no one ever warned me?” Sam pretended to moan as he went back to his own office. And as though to clear his head, he called Alex.

“Where were you last night?” she asked plaintively. “I called you.”

“I know. I'm sorry. I was out with Simon and some new clients from London. He called after I got home and talked me into it. We went to Le Cirque for dinner.” He suddenly felt as though he was saying too much and owed her an explanation. “How are you feeling today?”

“Okay,” she said, still sounding depressed. “I saw Liz Hascomb last night, it turns out she's a volunteer here for one of the support groups.”

“That's nice,” he said, feeling alienated from her. All she talked about was her illness and the things that related to it. “Do you think she'll tell people at your office?” He knew how much she wanted to keep this private, but she sounded confident when she answered.

“I don't think so. Liz is very discreet. But she was pretty surprised when she saw me …and very help-fizl”

“I'm glad.”

“How's Annabelle?”

“Great. She's getting all excited about Halloween. She keeps trying on her costume.” Tears sprang to Alex's eyes as she listened.

“Are you coming up today?” She said it hesitantly, as though she wasn't sure if she could count on him anymore, and hearing that in her voice hurt him.

“Of course I am. I'll stop by on my way home.” She'd been hoping he'd come for lunch, but she didn't want to press him. He told her he was staying in, and trying to get some work done.

But when he tried to concentrate, all he found he could think of was Daphne. It was nightmarish. He had a sick wife, a young child, and a load of responsibilities, and all he could think of was Simon's hot little cousin from Britain. It put him in a rotten mood by the time he saw Alex. He was feeling guilty and on edge and he was sorry he'd ever met Daphne. He didn't need any more complications in his life, but he was suddenly obsessed with her, like a drug he had to have and had never tasted.

“What's up? You're all wound up.” Alex spotted it immediately, which annoyed him even more. It was like a neon sign someone had hung around his neck and it kept flashing the word “Daphne.”

“Don't be silly,” he snapped at her, without meaning to, “I'm just worried about you. We can't wait for you to come home on Friday.”

“Have you said anything to Annabelle yet?”

“Of course not.”

“I think we ought to tell her I had a little accident on my trip.”

“Why say anything?”

There it was. Denial again. It never ceased to amaze Alex. “I'm wearing a bandage. I'm going to have a scar, my breast is gone. I'm not feeling well. She can't jump all over me. How do you think we'd get away with not telling her anything, Sam? She's not stupid.”

“You don't have to parade around naked in front of her.”

“For the rest of my life? She takes baths with me, she watches me get dressed. I've never hidden my body from her. Besides, in a few weeks I'm going to be sick, and apparently very tired, from the chemotherapy. She needs to know that.”

“Why do you have to keep making so much about this thing? Why does it have to be Annabelle's problem, and mine? Why can't you just live with it quietly? I don't understand it.”

“Neither do I. I don't understand how you can keep pretending this isn't happening. It's not just happening to me, it is happening to all of us, at least to the extent that you both have to understand it.”