The Silken Web - Page 72

They were still laughing as Eliot hailed a taxi to take them to the Russian Tea Room for a luncheon appointment. They were wined and dined almost each lunch and dinner, being taken only to the best restaurants. Kathleen received no small number of bold, illicit propositions. To her chagrin, Eliot received as many.

After ten days, Kathleen was ready to go home. A day earlier than planned, they rescheduled their flight and returned to San Francisco. She and Eliot parted company at the airport, each glad to be finished with a difficult job and feeling confident that they had accomplished much.

Kathleen surprised everyone when she arrived home just in time for dinner. She had a surprise, too. Erik was there. He was accompanied by a gorgeous, stunning blonde.

Her name was Tamara.

Chapter Sixteen

“Kathleen!” Seth cried, and wheeled his chair around the end of the dining table, almost running over her with his exuberance.

She laughed as she leaned down to receive his warm kiss. As she drew back, Kathleen was struck by how tired he looked. Had he lost weight? His cheekbones stood out starkly in his gaunt face. His eyes, however, were as radiant as ever, and she didn’t doubt that he was glad to see her.

“How was the trip?” he asked as he escorted her to a chair. George and Alice had rushed in when they heard her voice and Theron had been placed in her anxious arms. “What did the spring lines look like? Alice, please bring her a plate. Theron’s learned to say car and truck. Darling, was it a fruitful trip?” Seth was so excited to see her that the words tumbled over themselves. She laughed again as she hugged a squirming Theron closer.

“We had a good trip, though we finished early and couldn’t wait until tomorrow to come home. We bought some lovely things.” Her eyes wandered around the table, including Erik, Hazel and the blonde in her conversation. “Forgive me,” she mumbled, “but we haven’t been introduced.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Seth said. “I was so delighted to see you that I forgot my manners. Kathleen, this is Tamara. Tamara, my wife and most valued right hand, Kathleen.”

“How do you do,” Kathleen said politely.

“Hi,” was all the girl said.

Erik spoke for the first time. “How are you, Kathleen?” The sound of his voice was her true welcome home. It embraced her. It was rich and deep and masculine, touching her with its timbre.

She longed to go to him and feel his strength, his warmth. But she couldn’t. They had an audience and there was a glamorous woman sitting beside him, a woman he had dared to bring to her house. “I’m fine,” she answered curtly, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Alice, take Theron back into the kitchen now,” Hazel ordered.

“No,” countered Kathleen coolly. “I’ve missed him more than I could have imagined. Tonight he stays in the dining room with us.” Kathleen’s eyes dared Hazel to challenge her.

“Of course, my dear,” Hazel said graciously, though the eyes she turned on Kathleen were as hard as flint.

Kathleen placed a napkin in her lap and her gaze strayed back to the glamorous young woman with Erik. She must be very tall, Kathleen thought. Didn’t Tamara have a last name? Was one necessary? Who could forget her once they had seen her? Her hair was the color of moonlight, the palest blonde imaginable, and framed her face in a carefully disordered style that hung to the middle of her back. It was free, untamed. It matched the feline cunning that lurked in her amber eyes. They were cool and calculating, but when they lit on Erik they became slumbrous and warm. Even from across the table, Kathleen could feel the sparks shooting from those eyes.

Once she saw Erik answer Tamara’s seductive look with a deep, lazy grin, and the food in Kathleen’s mouth could have been dust. She tried to keep her eyes away from them and listen to what Seth was telling her about Theron and the stores, but it was impossible.

Tamara’s clinging dress was white, setting off her fabulous tan. From what Kathleen could see, the fabric outlined a perfect, statuesque figure, and left nothing to the imagination.

“If you’re finished, Kathleen, we’ll go into the living room,” Seth suggested. “I don’t think you ate enough, though.”

Kathleen stared unseeingly at her plate and realized that she hadn’t taken more than a dozen bites. “We had a snack on the plane,” she said as brightly as she could and reached for Theron.

Erik’s hand closed possessively around Tamara’s elbow as he led her into the living room. Hazel had engaged Seth in an absorbing private conversation, so Kathleen’s only escort was her son.

Tamara practically lay down on the long sofa, pulling Erik with her and threading her slender arm through his. His elbow pressed into her enormous breasts.

Kathleen was finding it hard not to scream at both of them as she sank down into an easy chair with Theron, who was wetly chewing on her string of coral beads. She must look tired, wrinkled and matronly, while the other woman looked young, fresh, alluring and all too willing.

Ritualistically, George brought in the heavy silver tray with the coffee service on it. Everything irritated Kathleen tonight. Why couldn’t they all troop into the kitchen and sit on stools and pour coffee out of a percolator into thick, heavy mugs? She longed for those easy talks that she had shared with B. J. and Edna. How she missed the joking, the warmth, that informal way of life!

She was sick of moire-covered walls and brocade sofas and artificial flowers. She was even sicker of a tall, slinky blonde who couldn’t seem to keep her hands off Erik.

“You sit with the baby, Kathleen dearest, and let me pour tonight. You must be exhausted after your trip.” Hazel’s duplicity never ceased. How the woman constantly carried off the act without once dropping character was a source of wonder to Kathleen. She looked away from her sister-in-law in time to see Tamara lean even closer to Erik.

Her thigh rubbed against his in an erotic invitation. Absently, he reached over and patted her knee. Kathleen would have gladly murdered first the girl, then him.

Did she have the right to be jealous? Erik was a virile man. She was married. He had never claimed to love her. She knew that he still had a physical desire for her and that he felt a fondness for her for being the mother of his child. But love her? He had never claimed to in so many words.

Tags: Sandra Brown Romance
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