That Boston Man Read online

  "Columnists don't fall in the same category as we lowly reporters," Lexie explained. "They want to appear the equal of those around them—or better."

  "That's how they persuade people to tell their secrets, I suppose," Gary grinned.

  "That's the idea," she agreed, a ghost of a smile touching her tense features.

  Shari happened to glance their way and saw them standing near the outer wall of the room. She excused herself to the couple with whom she was chatting and made her way toward them.

  "Hello, Shari," Lexie greeted her. "You look lovely tonight."

  The columnist unconsciously preened at the compliment. "Thank you," she smiled. "What brings you here? I thought you said once that the Lockwoods weren't newsworthy."

  "They aren't," Lexie countered the slight dig. "But Edmond Martineau is."

  "And eligible, too," the columnist observed, turning so she could look toward the center of the room without being obvious. "When he said bon soir to me in that gorgeous French accent, I wanted to melt like an éclair in the July sun. He's had that effect on every woman in the room, married or single."

  The crowd of people seemed to part to give Lexie an unobstructed view of the guest of honor. But it was the tall, raven-haired man beside him who captured her attention. When that dark head bent to catch the comment of the chic brunette on his arm, a jealous bile seemed to fill Lexie's mouth.

  "Everyone is whispering about Rome and the Martineau girl. They've been practically inseparable since she arrived," Shari informed Lexie with deliberate insensitivity. "Have you noticed the way she clings to Rome as though he were her security blanket?'

  Lexie's teeth seemed welded together, hardening the line of her jaw. "Maybe she's the reason he's been out of circulation lately." Lexie's offhand comment was coated with bitterness.

  Shari's bright eyes glittered with triumph as her arrow found its target. "You had your chance, darling," She reminded Lexie.

  "Chance at what?" Lexie retorted angrily. "I've outgrown merry-go-rounds."

  "Gary must be relieved to know that." Shari glanced at Lexie's male companion. "I presume you're accompanying Lexie merely as her escort. Or did Features assign you to do a story on tonight's festivities?"

  "No, I'm just here with Lexie," he admitted. "We had a date tonight, and Mike Farragut just chose the place we were going." Gary laughed as if he had made a joke, but Lexie couldn't find anything about the arrangement that was very funny.

  "When will they be shooing the reporters out?" Lexie changed the subject.

  "Hors d'oeuvres and cocktails are being served until eight-thirty," Shari replied. "Dinner won't be until nine, a more continental hour. I would imagine they'll permit the reporters to remain until the cocktail hour is over. Of course, I'll be staying for the whole affair."

  "Of course," Lexie murmured caustically. Personally she wanted to leave now. The sight of Rome with the elegant Claudine was tearing her apart.

  "You'll never learn anything standing here, darling," Shari insisted. "All the action is over by the cocktail bar. Shall we wander over and help ourselves to some of the refreshments?"

  "That sounds like a good idea." Gary was more than willing to follow someone else's lead. All of this was out of his sphere of experience.

  They had to cross the full width of the room to reach the bar. It was the first time in her life that Lexie could ever remember wanting to be a wallflower.

  Her nervous stomach could not tolerate the thought of alcohol or food. The bartender lifted an eyebrow when she ordered a soft drink, but filled it without comment.

  She had barely stepped away when she heard Rome's familiar voice inquire, "What would you like, Claudine?" Tremors of awareness quaked through her at how close he stood to her.

  A feather-soft voice responded, "Some white wine, s'il vous plaît." The English words were spoken with a delightful French accent.

  Lexie couldn't help turning to look at them as Rome gave the bartender their order. Her gaze was met by a pair of brown eyes as soft as the voice of their owner. Recognition was instant.

  "Miss Templeton, it's a pleasure to see you again," Claudine Martineau declared. The tone of her voice always seemed to be barely above a whisper. It enhanced the aura of fragility her petiteness conveyed and carried through the impression of youthful innocence despite her overall elegance.

  To make matters worse, as far as Lexie was concerned, the phrase sounded sincere. It was impossible to make a caustic response.

  "Thank you, Miss Martineau." The words were stiff, but at least they weren't tinged with sarcasm.

  "I enjoyed so much the tour of your city the other day," the brunette continued. "Rome had told me many things about it." At that moment, Rome returned to her side and handed her a glass of wine. "It was all that you said it would be, chérie," Claudine told him.

  "I'm glad." The smile disappeared from his mouth when he glanced at Lexie, all expression leaving his face. "How are you, Miss Templeton?"

  The question was so impersonal, so distant, that she wanted to scream. More than that, she wanted to take the wine glass from Claudine and spill the contents all over her designer gown. She wanted to do anything that would dim the woman's attraction in Rome's eyes. But her fingers curled more tightly around her own glass as she held her temper.

  "Fine, thank you, Mr. Lockwood." The boiling heat of her frustration simmered in her voice.

  Gary politely made his way through the crowd to reach Lexie. "Whew, I almost lost you in the crowd," he laughed self-consciously. "Did you get your drink?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. I—" He saw Rome standing there and seemed to redden. "Hello, Mr. Lockwood."

  "Hello. You have the advantage on me. I'm afraid I don't know your name." The black gaze flickered arrogantly to Lexie, demanding an introduction.

  "This is Gary Dunbar," she identified her escort, then reversed the introductions. "Mr. Lockwood you know, and this is Mademoiselle Claudine Martineau, Edmond Martineau's daughter."

  "It is a pleasure, m'sier." The woman offered Gary her hand.

  "The pleasure is all mine, mamselle." He awkwardly attempted to kiss the back of her hand in the continental fashion.

  He was so plainly fascinated and awed by this stunning creature from France that he was falling all over himself trying to impress her. Lexie felt sorry for him, and also defensive, especially when she saw the derisive look Rome gave him.

  "You two are here together tonight, no?" Claudine asked, wide-eyed.

  Lexie began to realize what allure the woman's soft tone had. It invited a person to lean closer. Lexie doubted that there was a man in the room who didn't enjoy that.

  "No, that is, yes, we came together," Gary admitted.

  "Gary is also a reporter?" Claudine glanced at Lexie for confirmation.

  "Yes," she nodded, aware of Rome's black gaze watching her trying to avoid to meeting it. A pulse was racing wildly in her throat, the sound of it pounding in her ears.

  "It is convenient that he works for your newspaper," the woman commented.

  "We work for the same newspaper, it's hardly mine," Lexie corrected, not wanting to convey the impression that she was anything more than a reporter.

  "It must be fascinating work," Claudine insisted. "It is certain that you meet many interesting people."

  "I do," Gary assured her. "I enjoy my work tremendously. I would like to travel more than I do, see some of the world, but you can't have everything."

  "Ah, yes, travel," the woman nodded. "Men seem to be born with a wish to travel. Me, I am a 'keep-at-home.'"

  "Stay-at-home," Rome corrected her idiom.

  Claudine laughed at her own mistake. It reminded Lexie of the soft tinkling sound of silver bells, and Gary seemed enraptured by it. There was warmth in Rome's look, too, when he gazed at the woman whose petite frame came no higher than his shoulder. The delicate laugh irritated Lexie.

  "Rome knows me so well" Claudine smiled. "He even knows what I mean when it isn
't what I say."

  "Lexie mentioned that your families are very close," Gary remarked.

  "C'est vrai. It is true. Rome's papa and mine are very close, like brothers," the brunette explained. A light danced in her eyes as her gaze swept to Rome through naturally long lashes. "Rome has known me since I was an enfant."

  "Thank heavens, you aren't an infant anymore," he mocked.

  "When I was younger, I had a—how do you say it—a crush on Rome," confided Claudine, smiling at Rome with shared memories. "I followed him around like a puppy dog."

  "And now?" Shari Sullivan spoke from behind Lexie, having unobtrusively joined the group. "Have you managed to snare Rome Lockwood?"

  "Pardon? Snare?" Claudine repeated the word with a puzzled and blank look.

  Shari rephrased the question. "Is there a romance between the two of you?"

  Lexie wanted to push her way out of the group before Claudine answered, but she was hemmed in to the point where it was impossible. She somehow managed to control the almost overwhelming sensation of panic.

  "Claudine, may I introduce Shari Sullivan," Rome interrupted before his companion could respond to Shari's question. "She has a society column."

  "For the same newspaper as Miss Templeton?" Claudine asked.

  "Yes," Shari admitted.

  "Is there no one at the shop to print the newspaper?" Claudine jested. "Are you all here tonight?"

  "Not quite," the columnist responded dryly, aware that it was all a ploy to avoid a direct answer to her question.

  "As I was—"

  "To answer your previous question, Miss Sullivan," Rome interrupted smoothly, "Claudine and I are—" his pause was deliberate "—just good friends."

  "Oui," Claudine agreed with a bright smile. "We are good friends."

  Lexie felt sick. Good friends. It was the term so often used to hide a deeper relationship. Seeing them together, looking into each other's eyes, she could well imagine that the term intimated just that.

  "I am sure you regret your visit is such a short one," Shari was saying. "I believe you are leaving the day after tomorrow. You've barely had time to see your friend, what with the tour of Boston and the reception tonight."

  "The dinner tonight is necessary in order to meet everyone." Claudine didn't express any regret for the multitude of people of the party. "Tomorrow we'll have a quiet evening with just our two families." A manicured hand touched Rome's sleeve as Claudine glanced beyond them through the throng of people. "Look, chérie. Papa is about to propose a toast. Your mama and papa are there, too. Perhaps we should join them."

  Rome nodded, encompassing them all in a look. "Excuse us, please."

  As he shouldered a path through the crowd, protectively drawing the petite French woman along with him, Lexie felt the sickening wave of nausea pass. More than anything she wanted to sit down. Her knees had begun to tremble until she wondered how much longer they would support her.

  "Come on." Shari's gaze had not left the departing couple, her expression hardening with purpose. "Let's find out what's going on. I want a closer look."

  As she started forward, Gary automatically followed. Lexie was caught in the middle and swept along with them. When she was able to stop, she found herself on the inner ring of a semicircle around the host family and their guests of honor. Edmond Martineau raised his glass in a toast.

  "To my friends, the Lockwoods. May our visits be more frequent in the future." As he sipped from his glass, others did likewise.

  There was a hush in the room while everyone, the reporters especially, waited for another announcement. It was several seconds before they began to realize nothing more was forthcoming.

  A reporter from a competitive newspaper spoke up. "Excuse me. Were the Lockwoods your only reason for visiting the United States at this time, Mr. Martineau?"

  With a stricken look, Lexie glanced at Rome. What if the information he'd given her was wrong? Mike said he had confirmed it, but—

  "Perhaps," Edmond Martineau paused, drawing Lexie's gaze. His eyes twinkled brightly back at her. "Perhaps, you should put the question to Miss Templeton." An amused murmur ran through the crowd. "She claims to know a great deal about my reasons for coming to your country."

  She swallowed once and tried to find her voice. "Isn't it true that when you leave here Sunday, you will be flying to Washington, D.C.?"

  Edmond Martineau glanced around the room and lifted his hand in a Gallic gesture. "How can I, a Frenchman, deny a beautiful lady the confirmation she seeks? It is true. I fly to Washington where I will meet with members of your State Department."

  Rome hadn't lied to her. Her gaze swung back to him in relief, but he was looking at her with almost savage contempt. The statement by Martineau had prompted a flurry of questions from the other reporters. As they rushed forward to vie for his attention, Lexie allowed them to close around her and force her into the background. She felt sick and cold, and must have looked worse. Gary frowned at her with concern.

  "Are you all right Lexie?"

  "No." She didn't lie. "I don't feel very well, Gary. Would you mind taking me home?"

  "No, I don't mind," he assured her and curved an arm around her waist to escort her out of the room.

  "I'm sorry to spoil the evening this way," she apologized once they were in the car.

  "Hey, it's all right," He shrugged. "I understand."

  "I'll get over it." Lexie meant Rome, and knew it wasn't going to be easy.

  SATURDAY NIGHT the telephone rang while Lexie was in the bathtub. Her first inclination was to let it ring, but common sense drove her out of the bubbly water. It might be an important call. She quickly wrapped a bath towel around her as she hurried into the living room.

  "Hello." Her voice sounded strained even to her own ears.

  "Hi, let me speak to Carla," a bright female voice requested.

  "You must have the wrong number. There isn't anyone here by that name," Lexie replied.

  "Are you sure? This is the number she gave me."

  "Well, it's the wrong one."

  "Is this 555-4121?" the voice demanded.

  "No."

  "Sorry." The line clicked dead.

  Retracing her watery trail to the bathroom, Lexie found the bubbles had all dissipated and the bathwater was tepid. Her skin was already dry so there was little use for the towel wrapped around her. She unwound it and slipped on her quilted housecoat, using the towel to mop up her wet footprints from the floor.

  Hanging the damp towel on a rack, she wandered into the small living room. The apartment seemed so silent and empty. Ginger was out with Bob again and Lexie was alone. It wasn't a night when she wanted to be alone. But then was any night? She wouldn't admit the real reason. She felt so empty and lonely. She picked up a book and put it back down.

  There was a knock at the apartment door. Lexie stared at it wondering who would be visiting at this late hour. Not for the first time she wished the door had a peephole as she moved to answer the knock. She slipped the night chain securely in place and opened the door the few inches the chain permitted.

  "Hello, Lexie." Rome stood outside, resplendent in black-tie evening wear.

  "What are you doing here?" she breathed, certain he would vanish any second.

  There was a trace of his old teasing mockery when he spoke, "I thought it was obvious. I came to see you. May I come in?"

  "No." Her answer was abrupt as she recovered her initial surprise. "I don't want to see you."

  "I want to talk to you, Lexie."

  "I think I've heard that line before," she said bitterly.

  His mouth straightened. "I give you my word, Lexie. We'll talk. That's all."

  She started to close the door without answering him, but his hand slipped into the opening to stop her. Lexie wondered if the chain would hold if Rome tried to force his way in. It suddenly didn't look very substantial.

  "Shut the door if you want," Rome told her. "I can talk loudly enough for you to hear me, even th
rough a closed door. But either way, Lexie, you're going to listen to me."

  He removed his hand from the door. Lexie closed it, hesitated, then slipped off the chain. Rome was capable of doing exactly what he said, and she didn't want that type of discussion carried on in a public hallway. She opened the door for him to enter and walked away.

  "I thought you were giving a big important party for the Martineaus tonight," she commented.

  "I'm not. My parents are." At her pointed glance at his formal attire, Rome added, "I put in an appearance and left."

  "Why are you here?" Lexie's nerves were as charged as a high-voltage wire. They stood in the center of the small room, facing each other.

  "I saw the article in this morning's paper."

  "Have you come to congratulate me? Or to collect your due?" she hurled. "I should have known you had some devious reason for telling me. Now that your information gave me a scoop, you expect me to be suitably grateful. Well, I'm sorry, but your word wasn't good enough. We confirmed the information through other sources. Any credit I owe you is strictly negligible?"

  "I didn't come to collect any imaginary debt," corrected Rome.

  "Didn't you?"

  "No. I told you why I came. We have to talk," he declared again.

  "And I told you I didn't want to become involved with you. I don't even want to see you." Which was a lie. Her eyes were drinking in the sight of him, so formidably male.

  "That seems to be my problem. You see, I've discovered that I want to see you again while you still claim that you don't want to see me. How do you suppose I can solve that?"

  "I don't know." Lexie pivoted away in agitation. "It's your problem, isn't it?"

  "Can't we compromise?"

  "Can't I change my mind, is what you mean," she retorted. "Why don't you go back to your party? I'm sure Claudine can offer you a solution."

  "Were you jealous?" Rome taunted. "I hope so. I hope you were miserable."

  Lexie whirled to face him. "Is that why you singled Mac and me out from all the others at the airport? Why you invited us along on the tour? So I'd have to watch you with her?"