Not Even for Love(20)

“Take your time.” He reached up and patted her hand. “I may have two cigarettes.”

As Reeves held the door of the restaurant open for her, she hurried past him, cramming her hands deep into her coat pockets and hunching her shoulders against the chill. She stepped out into the street, daringly crossed it in front of a honking tourist bus, and reached the other side almost at a run.

Reeves pulled up beside her and clasped her elbow. “Is this to be the whirlwind tour?”

“Don’t you dare try to be cute with me after the things you said last night.”

“You’re not being hospitable,” he chided in a singsong voice.

She ground her teeth. “You wanted to see the bridge, so okay, I’ll show you the damn bridge,” she said unreasonably. “Why didn’t you just decline Helmut’s offer and sit there and smoke a cigarette with him?”

“I’ve quit smoking again.” He grinned. “Besides, I really want to see the bridge.”

By now they had reached one of the two covered bridges that spanned the Reuss River. The river divided the city into the modern town on the west and the old town on the east. The clear water gurgled and rushed under their feet as they stepped onto the ancient wooden bridge.

In a bored, flat, tourist-guide voice, Jordan said, “The bridge dates back to the Middle Ages. As you will see overhead there are myriad panels. Each panel has two paintings, one on each side, that depict an event of regional history. The paintings date back to the early sixteen hundreds.”

“Very interesting,” he said dryly.

“The Lake of Lucerne covers over forty square miles. Four Swiss cantons, or states, border it. It—”

“Jordan,” he said harshly, and jerked her around to face him. “Why aren’t you living with Helmut?”

“None of your business,” she shouted. When her voice reverberated loudly from the ceiling of the covered bridge, she lowered it. “None of your business.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes it is, dammit.”

His hands were digging into the flesh of her upper arms and, in spite of her heavy clothing, his grip was painful. When she flinched, he realized how hard he was holding her and let her go immediately. She continued walking as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Why?” he persisted.

She spun around to face him, glad that there was no one else on the bridge at the moment. “Because I don’t want to. I don’t believe in living with someone without being married to him.” That expressive eyebrow rose in disbelief. Frustrated, she said, “The other night was an…an accident. I didn’t plan it, nor did you. It just… happened.” She didn’t look at him, but she didn’t move away either. He seemed to hold her like a magnet. She could feel his eyes boring into the top of her head as she stared at the toes of his boots. “I told you then that I don’t … don’t sleep around. If you didn’t believe me then, you won’t now either. I don’t care if you do or not.” But she did.

“Do you love him?”

“Helmut?”

“Are there others?”

She sighed in exasperation. “No. There are no others.” He completely disoriented her. She couldn’t think clearly, especially with him standing so close. Trembling fingers rubbed her forehead, which had begun to pound with the tension from within.

“I don’t love Helmut. At least, not in that way. He’s fun, he’s charming, polite, and, yes, rich. I can’t deny that I was flattered when he began seeing me. I was. Any woman would be. But don’t you see, Reeves?” Now she looked up at him imploringly. “I’m a novelty. He has everything in the world he could possibly want. He plays. He goes on lavish vacations. He buys impulsively and compulsively. Right now I’m like a new toy. I’m not rich, not a jet-setter, not a socialite. When he tires of me, that will be it.”

“If that’s true, why did you consent to marry him?”

“I haven’t ever exactly consented—I just haven’t adamantly refused. Since I realize I’m a temporary fascination, I haven’t pressed the point. My constant arguing to the contrary would only increase his determination to have me. Understand? Helmut, despite his Old World charm, is over-bearing when he wants something. He only hears what he wants to. He hasn’t given me a chance to tell him how I feel.”

“And how do you feel? I mean, if the novelty should wear off tomorrow, how would you feel if he did as you predict and dropped you?”

“I told you, I’ve never intended to marry him. I never intend to marry anyone.”