“No, you can’t,” Bess interrupted softly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve loused things up for you and Kingston, and I almost destroyed my own marriage, all because I couldn’t tell Bobby the truth, couldn’t tell him what I really wanted. Elissa, Bobby and I aren’t getting a divorce. I finally got up enough nerve to swallow my pride and say what I felt, and now we’re staying together. I was sure Kingston would have told you by now. He was the one who convinced me to talk to Bobby,” she added, stunning Elissa into silence. “I tried to tell you when you phoned that time, but you hung up. Bobby and I were visiting him.”
Elissa could hardly breathe. “Visiting?” she echoed hoarsely.
“I guess you had a pretty good idea what was going on all along, but most of it was just in my mind. Poor Kingston was truly caught in the middle, all because he felt sorry for me. Well, he’s big brother again, and I do adore him. But if you’d seen him these past weeks, you’d know that he didn’t give a hang about me—not the way you thought. He’s nearly worked himself to death, taken crazy chances with the livestock and that new sports car of his—he’s gone hog wild, Margaret says. Margaret tried to get him to go see you, but he wouldn’t. He said he couldn’t go until you asked him to, because that would mean you still loved him. Margaret says he loved you all along, only he didn’t know it. I think he knows it now. I just hope I haven’t done anything to take his last chance away from him. I think he’ll go crazy without you, and that’s the truth.”
Elissa was still trying to find her voice. “I sent him away,” she whispered tearfully. “I thought you and he were getting married. I couldn’t let him sacrifice his own happiness...just because I was pregnant.”
“Oh, Lord, I hate myself!” Bess groaned. “Listen, can’t you go after him?”
“I don’t know where he’s gone,” Elissa wept.
“Well, if he comes here, I’ll send him back,” Bess promised. “Now you go get some sleep. Don’t worry too much, it isn’t healthy for the baby. My gosh, Bobby and I will be uncle and aunt. That sounds so nice. Get some sleep, honey. Everything will be okay—I promise.”
Elissa’s heart warmed at the compassion in that soft voice. “I’ll be all right,” she said. “You’ll let me know if he shows up there?”
“Of course I will. And good luck.”
“Thanks.” Elissa hung up with a sigh. Lately, all her luck seemed to be bad. She went to the sink and bathed her flushed face. It didn’t help a whole lot, so she went out the back door and onto the quiet beach. Maybe a walk would help clear her mind.
She wandered along in her robe, hardly seeing where she was going for the pain. What irony, she thought miserably. She’d sent him away, and for what?
She didn’t notice the silent figure near the dune until he spoke. “You’ll catch cold,” he said, his voice deep and lazy.
Elissa whirled, catching her breath, to find King sitting there, smoking a cigarette. He was in his shirtsleeves, his chest bare where the white shirt was unbuttoned, his dark hair untidy.
“What are you sitting there for?” she asked shakily. “I thought you’d gone.”
“Oh, I started to,” he agreed pleasantly. “And then I realized I had no place to go.”
“There are hotels in Miami,” she faltered, wrapping her arms around herself as she drank in the sight of him, her eyes adoring every hard, powerful line of his body in the darkness.
“You don’t understand.” He put out the cigarette. “You’re the only home I have, Elissa,” he said quietly. “I don’t have any other place to go.”
Tears stung her eyes. She’d never dreamed, even when Bess was telling her those things, that he cared that much. Trembling a little with mingled excitement and fear, she went to him and dropped to her knees in front of him.
“I thought it was Bess,” she said simply.
He looked up at her, his eyes dark with possession. “So did I, at first,” he returned. “Until you started taking me over, that is. First my body, then my heart. In the end, all I felt for Bess was compassion and responsibility. I could have told you that when you left, but you wouldn’t listen,” he said gruffly. “Seven weeks I’ve stayed away, hoping