More than a Mistress(33)

"They all want commitments," Slade said, and then he cleared his throat.  "At least, they want them when they want them, not when you get around  to making them."

Travis frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, man, nothing at all. Look, about this babe-"

"She's not a`babe,"' Travis said coldly. "Her name is Alexandra."

"Alexandra, huh? Pretty classy name for a... Wait a second. The babe-the woman who bought you at that auction. Wasn't her name-"

"What if it was?"

"Hey, there's no need to get defensive. I'm just surprised, that's all. I mean, the lady bought you for hot times-"

"Watch how you talk about her, Slade."

Slade sighed. "Listen, man, all I'm saying is that it's, uh, sort of unusual that she's become your mistress."

"She's not my mistress."

"What would you call her, then? If she's living in your house?"

Travis opened his mouth, then shut it. He raked his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know what I'd call her," he said. "Hell, that's part of the  problem. She's-she's got to be called something, you know what I mean?  When I introduce her to people."

"She has a name, right? So just use it."

"No. That's not the point. We're living together, Slade. How do I let people know that?"

"Why should they have to know it?" Slade asked reasonably.

Travis frowned. "Well-well, because she doesn't want to be some kind of  secret. You know, as if she doesn't have a real function in my life."

"Trav, man, you are in deep trouble, do you know that?" Travis sighed. "I just need to call her something, kid."

"Your date?"

"Hell, no."

"Your lover, then."

"No, she'd never go for that."

"How about introducing her as your friend?" Travis laughed.

"Well then, the only thing that leaves is that she's your mistress."

Travis shook his head. "She's not. Or maybe she is. The thing is, she's more than a mistress."

"Well, tell her that."

"Yeah?" Travis thought about it. "Yeah," he said slowly, and smiled.  "Maybe she'd like to hear that. `Princess,' I could say, `Alex, I just  want you to know that you're more than a mistress to me  … "

"You son of a bitch!"

He swung around just in time to see Alex's fist blur through the air.  She caught him on the chin. He rocked back on his heels, and the phone  fell from his hand.

"Princess," he said. "Princess, what...?'

"I am not your mistress, Travis Baron."

"I know." Bewildered, he rubbed his aching jaw. "I said that. You're so much more-"

"You know something, Cowboy? You're a grade-A idiot."

She turned and ran. Travis started after her but he tripped on the  phone. By the time he got to the driveway, she was behind the wheel of  the Miata.

"Alex," he yelled.

Alex stuck out her arm. Something shiny dangled from her fingertips.

"No," Travis said, "nooo... "

The keys she'd taken from the Porsche arced through the moonlit night and landed in the heavy shrubbery that lined the driveway.

The Miata's engine roared and the car shot forward. "Alex," he shouted,  but she didn't even look back. Travis set his jaw. Okay, enough was  enough. She wanted to leave him? Let her.                       
       
           



       

He sat just at the place where the waves came in and kissed the sand.  The phone was back in his pocket, and what remained of the wine was in  his glass.. He let the cold water curl over his toes while he told  himself it was just as well it was over.

Their affair had grown far too complicated. Besides, it would have ended anyway, sooner or later.

Alexandra Thorpe was only a woman. A beautiful woman, sure, but  beautiful women were as common in southern California as sand on the  beach.

Okay, so she was bright, too. And she had a nice sense of fun. Yeah, and  he liked that spirit of hers, he thought ruefully, wincing as he rubbed  his chin. And she had a love for life that made each day a joy. He  could talk with her, too, about everything, the big stuff and the small.  Well, so what? She was still just another woman...

The phone rang. He yanked it from his pocket, heart pounding, put it to his ear-and heard his brother Gage's voice.

Gage sounded bad. Bad enough so that, just for a second, Travis forgot his own troubles.

"Gage? What's the matter, man? You sound-"

"Listen, Trav, I, ah, I just wanted to ask you a question."

"Yeah? Gage, you sure you're okay? You sound-"

"I'm trying to talk quietly, dammit! I don't want Natalie to hear."

"Oh." Travis cleared his throat. "What's up?"

"Well..." Gage cleared his throat, too. "Listen, when one person wants a divorce but the other person doesn't..."

Travis's shoulders slumped as he listened. Gage and Natalie's divorce  was still on, even though Gage didn't want t. Well, that was typical,  wasn't it? When a woman got a damned fool idea in her head, a man was  doomed no matter what he said or did.

"Trav," Gage said, "I know I'm not making sense but this is all so confusing."

"Love, you mean." Travis laughed. "Yeah, it sure is."

"Look, I know you don't understand. I mean, I know you're not in love, that you've never really been in love..."

"Love sucks, man." Travis's voice roughened. "A man loses his  equilibrium, turns into some jackass he doesn't recognize. And for what?  All so a woman can drive him crazy, turn him into a-a gibbering idiot."

"Trav? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure? You don't sound okay."

"Listen, Gage, I'm-I'm kind of in the middle of something here. You want  to know if you can stop Natalie from going through with this divorce?  The answer is no, pal. 1'm sorry to tell you this but, if she wants out,  she's out."

Gage nodded. "Yeah. I kind of figured..." He blew out a breath. "Thanks anyway."

"Gage? Don't let her go. Don't ever let the woman you love go, not if you have to turn cartwheels to keep her..."

The woman you love.

The phone fell from Travis's hand. The woman you love.

That was Alex. He loved her. Yes, he loved her. This was no affair that would end; it was forever...

Unless he let her go.

"Baron," he said aloud, "she was right. You really are an idiot."

Travis leaped to his feet and ran for the house. Halfway there, he  stopped, raced back, grabbed the phone and punched in Slade's Boston  number.

"Listen kid," he said, when his brother answered, "Gage is having a bad time."

Slade laughed. "Yeah. There's a lot of that going around lately."

"Just call him, okay? He isn't home but I got his number from my caller ID box. Take it down."

"Trav?" Slade cleared his throat. "Listen man, actually-actually, this isn't the best-"

"Tell him not to be an idiot, okay? No man should ever let a woman he loves get away from him."

"Love," Slade growled, "love? Who even knows what the word means?"

Travis banged open the door to the beach house. "You'll know," he said gruffly, "believe me, kid, when it happens, you'll know."

Slade said something, but Travis didn't wait to hear what it was. He hit  the disconnect button, dumped the phone on the table, and began looking  for his extra set of keys. Where in hell were they?

In the drawer, right where he'd put them the day he'd first bought the car.

He paused just long enough to glug down a cup of instant coffee and to leave a message on his answering machine.

"Alex," he said, "if this is you calling... just tell me where you are and stay there. You hear me, Princess? Stay there."

Except he was pretty sure he knew where she was, and that was where he was going, right now.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN




ALEX was exhausted by the time she reached the big Victorian house at Peregrine Vineyards in the Napa Valley.

And she was still furious, though she'd worked off some of her anger by  taking every steep and tight curve on the way as if she'd driven them  all her life.                       
       
           



       

Fantastic, she thought coldly, as she brought the car to a  stand-on-the-brakes, skidding stop in the driveway. She'd had a red-hot  affair with Travis Baron and all she had to show for it was a newfound  talent for driving like a speed demon.

So much for finding herself as a woman.

Thunder rumbled across the valley, as if to underscore the thought. Alex  grabbed her overnight bag from the seat beside her and ran for the  house, just as the rain began.

"Great," she muttered, as she unlocked the door, then slammed it behind her.

A storm was just what she needed tonight. Sound and fury, courtesy of Mother Nature, to match the rage building inside her.