Just Deserts - Brenda Jackson [6]
Stooping down, she studied Tristan’s features, seeing how they’d changed over the years. He no longer had that boyish look. He had grown into an extremely handsome man. He had chocolate-colored skin and the most gorgeous dark eyes and lips she had ever seen on a man. His long eyelashes were to die for, but then, she couldn’t discount his blunt nose and chiseled jaw. Both added arrogance to his features, a characteristic Tristan could not claim. He had to be the most humble man she knew.
His skin looked soft to the touch, and she knew from experience it was. She fought back the temptation to touch him now. She remembered the crush she’d had on him at twelve, until that day she’d seen him kissing Sadie McClelland in the park. It had broken her heart. She had run home crying to her mother, who’d hugged her and explained that it wasn’t real love she felt for Tristan but hero worship, and there was a big difference.
What her mother said that day had made real good sense at the time, but now Danielle couldn’t help wondering if at one time during her life she had actually loved Tristan. Really loved him.
She almost gasped when his eyes flickered open and she suddenly felt trapped by his dark gaze. Something stirred within her that almost made her moan. She actually felt herself swaying. Inhaling deeply, she tried thinking of something to say, but he beat her to it.
“You were staring at me.”
“Yes,” she answered with a guilty nod. “You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you.”
He held her gaze a little longer and then shifted positions to sit up. He rubbed his hands down his face. “Okay, I’m awake now, Dani. What’s wrong?”
Dani.
That had always been his name for her, although Paul and her parents had stuck to Danielle. When she became a model it had been so easy to use the name he’d given her.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just talked to Alex and Renée a few minutes ago.”
“And?”
Danielle dropped down beside him, forcing him to scoot over to make room. “And neither of them seems interested in finding the fourth woman.”
He took her hand in his, something he’d been doing a lot lately. “Dani, I think they’re interested. They just don’t have the fire about it that you do. I hate to tell you this, but now they have lives. Alexandra is married and Renée will be getting married this month. They have moved beyond what Marc did to them.”
“And you don’t think I have?”
He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “I just don’t think it’s as easy for you to let go. Maybe it’s because you were Marc’s first wife. Or it could be because you were married to him the longest. But then, it might be your age.”
Tristan swallowed, realizing he’d just made a mistake when he saw the narrowing of Danielle’s eyes and the stiffening of her spine. “What about my age, Tris?”
Looking into her scowling face, he knew he had to smooth things over or get a cold shoulder the rest of the day. “What I mean, Dani, is that you’re a lot more mature than Alexandra and Renée. That’s not a bad thing. You’ve been where they have yet to go. What they are experiencing now is—”
“Men!”
He lifted a brow. “Excuse me?”
“Men,” she said, as if with distaste. “Alex and Renée have a man in their lives. I’m not involved with anyone so I have a lot more personal time on my hands.”
Tristan took a minute to fully absorb what she had said. “And why do you think that is, Dani? Other than Marc, I’ve never known you to become involved with anyone, at least not seriously.”
“Yeah, and look where my involvement with Marc got me. The man was a con artist extraordinaire. He caught me at a vulnerable time and swept me off my feet. The next thing I knew I was in Atlanta getting married.”
“Because you thought you loved him?” he asked quietly, wondering what her answer would be. During the past five years there were times he actually thought she loved Marc, and then there were times he’d been filled with doubt.
She seemed to think deeply about his question and then she said, “No, because at that time I thought he loved me. I wanted someone to love me. I was hurt. I felt alone.