Indiscretions - Elizabeth Adler [157]
“You should be with someone Morgan’s age.”
“It was never Morgan,” she murmured. “We were friends, it was fun …”
“That’s what I mean, Vennie. You are so young, you should be having fun, finding out about life, what you want from it. I love you, Vennie, but I must give you a chance.”
“A chance?”
“To meet other people.”
“Other men, you mean?”
“Yes. Other men.” They fell silent.
“It’s the only way, you see,” he said, letting go of her, “the only way for you to be sure. I’m afraid that in a couple of years you might regret being Mrs. Fitz McBain, that you might feel that you’d lost your youth, missed the freedom to be with people your own age, that you might say to me one day, ‘I had potential, I was young, I could have been something too—not just the wife of a rich man. An older man.’”
“But I wouldn’t. I mean … I love you, Fitz.”
“And I love you; that’s why I’m saying this. Vennie, I couldn’t bear it if you married me and subsequently realized you’d made a mistake. Don’t you understand? I’d rather not have you, than have you and lose you. Go away, Vennie, just for a while. Try life on your own terms, experiment with your restaurant, make friends, do all the things people your age do.”
Vennie longed to hurl herself back into his arms, to lock herself into his life now, to be loved by him forever. But she could see his mind was made up. His face was stern and she wanted to smooth away the frown between his brows, to stroke the small, fine lines that radiated from the corners of his eyes, to reassure him that her youth was a liability to her, not an asset. But it would do no good. He was sending her out into her own world. But for how long?
“How long,” she whispered, “would it take to prove to you that it’s you I love, you I’ll always love?”
Fitz sighed. He knew he could tell her to forget it, that he was being a fool, that he needed her, couldn’t live without her, that he loved her because she was so young and sweet and lovely. But he wouldn’t. There were probably dozens of young men out there who would tell her the same thing. It was a chance he must take.
“Try life on your own for a year, Vennie,” he said. “Twelve months isn’t very long, after all. And at the end of it, if you still want me, I’ll be here—waiting.”
Venetia gazed at him uncertainly. Surely if he loved her, he couldn’t send her away. She recalled a line from one of Jenny’s movies, one she’d watched her mother rehearsing, pacing endlessly up and down some hotel suite clad in a creamy satin robe. Jenny had flung her arms wide, declaiming to the open window and some invisible lover. “True love is not selfish,” she’d cried. “True love never demands. It gives.” Fitz was giving her her freedom to choose. Her mother would have understood that, and approved.
“A year, then.” Vennie ran her hands through her untidy hair. “Just a year, then, Fitz McBain.” She managed a grin. “It’s a business deal.”
Fitz laughed. “If that’s the way you want it,” he said.
“It is,” she replied fiercely. “That way you can’t back out.”
“I’ll never do that, Vennie.”
“You’re sure it can’t be any other way?” Even as she said it she knew his reply—and despite herself she knew he was right. “Okay, okay,” she added hastily, “I know when I’m beaten. Maybe I’ll make a businesswoman yet!”
Their eyes met and she read the love in his. It would be all right. He would be here, waiting for her. Meanwhile, there was a year to be lived, a whole year without him. She could almost hear Jenny saying it, just the way she had when she’d left her at school in England that first time: “Look at it this way,” she’d said. “It’s time to achieve, time to grow.” And Jenny had always been right.
Published by
Dell Publishing
a division of
Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
This