To Tell the Truth Read online

  "Darling," Andrea moaned softly, pressing her throbbing mouth against the resistance of his. Still he refused to let her feel the fire of his kiss.

  "Say it," he growled huskily. "I have to know that you love me as much as I love you."

  Breathing in sharply, she was no longer afraid to put her feelings into words. "I love you, Tell. I love you."

  His mouth closed fiercely possessive over hers. It was a kiss more wild and glorious than any they had ever shared. The blood pounded through her veins with the wonder of it. His hands were roughly caressing her, crushing her against him, unaware of the strength he was using, and Andrea was oblivious to the pain of her bruised flesh. With a supreme effort, Tell dragged his mouth away from hers, his lean fingers burying her face against his chest, his heart pounding, his breathing ragged and uneven.

  "The first time I saw you registering at the desk, I thought you were a beautiful woman and nothing more," he muttered against the silken curtain of her hair. "When you were there at the restaurant, I thought you'd followed me to attract my attention. The desk clerk had made my reservation and it would have been easy for you to bribe him to find out where I would be. I asked you to dine with me only to find out what other tricks you would use. Each time I led the conversation down a personal channel, you shied away and I began to doubt for the first time. When I suddenly realized that it was another man who had made you so wary, a black rage swept over me. I convinced myself it was self-pity and you would get over the hurt in time."

  "I was over it." Her hands caressed the strong column of his neck. "I was simply afraid."

  "I didn't intend to seek you out again," he sighed. "Then I saw you coming down Bailey's Beach. You were so graceful, like a gazelle," a hand ran caressingly down the length of her thigh, "with those long, shapely legs and that fawn-colored hair and large hazel eyes. I don't know if it was the white backdrop of snow or what, but I suddenly pictured you against white sheets lying naked in my arms. I never wanted any woman as much as I wanted you at that moment. Coldly, I decided to seduce you. Once I had possessed you, I was certain the physical attraction would fade just as it had done all the other times."

  "But you didn't." Andrea frowned into his shirt collar. The hand holding the back of her head refused to let her draw away from his chest to look into his face.

  He burned a kiss against her temple. "I didn't, but I had it all planned. Then Chris showed up at the bar and everything went wrong from there. I've never been jealous in my life, but if he'd touched you, however innocently, I would have gladly bashed his handsome Adonis face in."

  "Was he handsome?" She smiled and nuzzled his throat.

  "You know damned well he was," Tell said, laughing, lifting his head to gaze into her face, soft and radiant with her love. "I still don't know why I let you say 'no' to me that night. I knew I could have persuaded you to change your mind, but I didn't try. Maybe because I wanted it to mean as much to you as it would to me. I think that's when I silently admitted that there was a very good possibility that I was falling in love with you. Andrea—" his expression grew serious "—in the past, I've thought I was on the brink of loving a woman and I've made love to many, but I've never told anyone that I loved them. You do believe me, don't you?"

  "I believe you," she murmured with a throbbing ache. "But I wouldn't have cared if you'd loved a hundred women before me as long as you love me now."

  "Andrea? It means a dream called woman," he said huskily. "That's what you are to me, a heavenly dream that I'd given up hope of ever coming true."

  "Darling," her voice caught on a sob, "I love you more than my life—and I never thought I'd ever be able to say that again."

  "What a fool that man was to leave you for someone else," he spoke against her lips. "But I'm glad he was a fool."

  "I can't compare what I felt for Dale with the way I feel for you, Tell," Andrea declared throatily. "I was a girl and I loved a boy. Now I'm a woman and I love a man. I love—"

  His mouth absorbed the rest of her words, bringing an end to the talking. Her lips parted readily under his passionately exploring kiss, and rippling muscles beneath his dark evening suit crushed and molded her ever closer to the hardness of his body. The flames of desire that raged through her veins were an awesome and splendored thing; pagan and primitive, yet seeming to be blessed by some heavenly deity.

  The expertise and mastery of his touch made the impact of the experience all the more shattering. Love made the hunger for each other insatiable as they strained at the physical restrictions that kept them apart. His tie had been torn off and the collar of his shirt opened. Beneath her hands, his naked chest burned from the heat radiating within and the hammer of his heartbeat pounded against her fingers.

  "I want you," Tell muttered thickly, bruising her lips.

  Andrea shuddered. "Yes." The answer was an acknowledgement of his need and her own.

  "You're trembling." The low pitch of his voice vibrated over her, increasing the tremors.

  "I'm afraid," she breathed shakily.

  His dark head raised a fraction of an inch, a frown knitting his smooth forehead. "Of me?" he questioned in mocking disbelief.

  "I've never been with a man before. I don't want to disappoint you, Tell."

  The contents of her whispered statement took a few seconds to sink in. When it did, he became rigidly still, then his fingers curled into the tender flesh of her upper arm and she was lifted and pushed roughly out of his embrace.

  "Tell, I love you." She reached out hesitantly to touch him, balanced and swaying toward him in the passenger seat.

  The knuckles of his brown fingers were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel, head bowed. "I know." He breathed in deeply. "I love you and I want you. But not in a car. Not for you. It's too sordid and…Just stay there," he ordered crisply, holding up a warning hand as she leaned towards him.

  The harshly forbidding set of his features kept Andrea in her seat, a glow of happiness shining through her own throbbing need that his concern was first for her pleasure and not his own. The incredible love in her heart let not one word of persuasion pass from her lips as Tell started the car and returned to the main road. The silence during the rest of the drive to the lodge was emotionally charged and razor-thin, yet infinitely satisfying because of its cause.

  When Tell unlocked the door to her room, his fingers closed over the key for an instant. Then he suddenly handed it to her. Tense, slightly trembling masculine fingers touched her cheek as Andrea stared at him.

  Leaning down, he lightly brushed her lips. "Good night, my love." Then he was striding down the hall away from her.

  In a dreamlike state, Andrea changed into her nightclothes. She was filled with the rapturous blessing of shared love and had never felt more loved and wanted in her life. And Tell loved her with and unselfishness that she had not believed a man was capable of feeling. It made him all the more precious to her.

  When her head touched the pillow, an ugly voice jeered, "You didn't tell him. How much is he going to love you when he finds out the truth about you?"

  "I'll tell him in the morning," Andrea whispered her promise aloud "He loves me. He'll understand, I know he will. We love each other too much. It can't be any other way."

  The security of knowing she possessed his love wrapped warm arms about Andrea. The peace and contentment she had in her sleep had not been experienced in a very long time. It was late mid-morning before she finally opened her eyes. The heady memory of the night before made her hug her arms around her to keep the wild joy from bursting her heart.

  Since Tell hadn't called, Andrea decided he was probably waiting in the lobby for her, thoughtfully letting her sleep late. Laying out a tan sweater with an olive leaf design and a pair of matching olive green slacks on the bed, she quickly stepped under the stinging shower spray to wash the grains of sleep from her face. After the hurried shower, she pulled on a short terry-cloth robe, forsaking her regular makeup in favor of moisturizing cream,
a little eyeshadow and lipstick.

  Running a quick brush over her windblown hairstyle, she noticed the ends of her dark blond hair were tipped with gold from the hours spent in the snow and the sun. It was a nice effect, she decided, and wondered if Tell liked it. The knock on the door sent her floating to answer it. Her heart was already saying that Tell was on the other side.

  "Good morning." He was leaning against the door frame, his dark eyes raking her from head to bare toe.

  "Good morning," she answered breathlessly.

  Then Tell was laughing softly, stepping into the room, closing the door behind him and sweeping her into his arms. With hard, demanding kisses he again staked his ownership of her love and she acknowledged his claim readily.

  "You shouldn't have let me sleep late," she protested.

  Her senses were filled with the intoxicating aroma from his smoothly shaven cheeks and the heady scent of his maleness.

  "I had a lot of very important things to do." His mouth explored the hollow of her throat, sending tingles down her spine where his hands were roughly caressing her back and hips. "And—" he breathed in deeply, dragging his hands from their arousing task to close over her wrists, which were wound tightly around his neck. He pulled them away and forced Andrea to stand free. "If you don't stop trying to seduce me, I'll forget why I came here."

  "You didn't come to see me. Andrea teased.

  "I didn't intend to see so much of you." His mocking gaze danced pointedly over the short terry robe and the lens length of her legs that it exposed. "Go get some clothes on while I can still think rationally and I'll tell you what we're going to do."

  Andrea started for her bedroom loft, pausing near the stairs to smile back at him. "What are we going to do?" she asked. "I mean, I have a sweater and slacks laid out that I intended to wear, but…"

  "Just get some clothes on." His smile thinned slightly as a dark fire leaped into his gaze. "And when you're finished with that, you can start packing."

  "Packing?" she repeated, turning all the way around to face him, her back to the stairs.

  "Yes, packing," Tell answered, walking to her almost with reluctance. He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders as if to ensure that a safe distance was maintained between them. "We're driving back to San Francisco as soon as you're ready. I want you to meet my family and my friends. Mother has invited you to stay with us, so it's all arranged."

  "Tell—" Andrea began.

  "I don't want you out of my sight," he interrupted firmly. "I wouldn't be able to stand having you in Oregon while I was in San Francisco." He turned her around and pointed her towards the stairs. "Now go and get packing."

  "Wait." She resisted his efforts, taking two steps up the stairs before pivoting again. "First there's something I have to tell you."

  "Whatever it is—" he shook his dark head patiently "—can wait until we're on our way. It's three hours more or less to drive. We can do plenty of talking on the way."

  "No." Andrea was insistent. She would not put off telling him the truth any longer. "I have to explain to you before we go. I should have told you before. I meant to, but—"

  "If it's waited this long, it can wait a little longer."

  "No, it can't wait. The longer I put it off, the harder it will be to explain so you'll understand."

  "Andrea." His patience was thinning. The ring of the telephone pierced the room, and he pivoted sharply toward it. "I'll answer that while you get ready," he stated crisply. "If it's your employer, I'll explain that you're quitting and won't be back."

  For a paralyzed instant, Andrea was incapable of reaction; cold fear freezing her legs. When she did race for the telephone, those frozen seconds allowed Tell to reach it first.

  "Tell, no!" she cried as he picked up the receiver. "Give me the phone, please!"

  His hand covered the mouthpiece. "Go and get dressed and start packing," he ordered, then removed his hand from the receiver. "Hello."

  Biting into her lip, she could barely hear the male voice responding on the other end of the wire. It was John, of course. She knew it even though she could hardly hear the voice well enough to recognize it. He was the only one who would call her. It was too late wishing that she had phoned him yesterday. Her frightened gaze became fixed on Tell's face.

  "Yes," he said in answer to a question put to him by the caller. "Who's calling please?"

  There was a fraction of a second's pause before his gaze, darkening to black, swung slowly to Andrea, piercingly intent and terrifyingly cold. His lean, handsome features turned to impenetrable granite as he held the receiver to her.

  "It's your husband." His statement seethed with icy, satirical arrogance.

  Her hand clutched the opening of her robe, trying to check the nausea rising within. Despair clouded her eyes as her trembling fingers accepted the receiver. Her lashes fluttered tightly down when Tell spun away, rigid strides carrying him to the window of her room.

  Twice Andrea opened her mouth before any sound came out. "Hello."

  "Andrea? Is that you? Are you all right?" John's anxious puzzled voice answered her immediately.

  "Yes, yes, I'm fine," she responded, wishing the floor would open and swallow her up.

  "I phoned yesterday and left a message. When you didn't call I became worried."

  "I…I was out…most of the day," she faltered. Her tongue nervously moistened her tips; her tear-filled gaze turned toward the ceiling as she tried to breathe through the pain in her chest. "It was too late to phone when I came in last night."

  "You were out last night?" he repeated.

  "Yes."

  "With the…uh…man who answered the phone?"

  "Yes." Her voice broke. She closed her eyes tightly. A tear slipped from her lashes and she roughly brushed it from her cheek.

  There was hesitation on the other end before John spoke. "Did you…Andrea, did you tell him about me yet?"

  "No," Andrea swallowed.

  "Oh, Andrea," John sighed heavily. "What have you done to yourself this time?"

  "I don't know." A brittle, soft laugh accompanied her words. It was either that or cry.

  "It's my fault. It's all my fault," he murmured.

  "Don't…don't say that," she protested.

  John breathed in deeply. "Call me…when you can. I'm sorry, Andie, I didn't mean to spoil anything…"

  "Yes, I am, too. Goodbye."

  A deadly quiet filled the room after the receiver clicked on the hook. Cowardly wishing she could run rather than face Tell's coldly accusing eyes, Andrea slowly turned to the rigidly erect figure staring out of the window. There was no sound but the beating of her heart.

  The distance between them was more than just physical, but her hesitant steps tried to bridge it. The outline of his tightly clenched jaw stopped her a foot or so behind him.

  "That's what I wanted to explain to you, Tell," she began nervously. "I…I know it was a terrible shock for you to find out that way and I know I deceived you by not telling you the truth before, but, Tell, I was going to. I know how it must look, but…" Her voice cracked with a checked sob. "Darling, I love you," she pleaded for his understanding. "I love you."

  He whirled around, the flat of his hand slashing across her cheek. The force of it sent her reeling backward, the impetus stopped by the hands that reached out to catch her. Remorse flashed instantly across his face before it again became sternly harsh and forbidding. Tell immediately jerked his hands from her shoulders.

  "What a fool I am!" he muttered savagely.

  Automatically, her hand had covered the smarting pain of her cheek. Now Andrea drew it away, her chin lifting with faint proudness.

  "I was the fool, Tell, not you," she said softly but firmly. "All I can do now is ask that you let me explain."

  His eyes bored into her and she met them unflinchingly. "Answer me this," Tell commanded arrogantly, "was that man on the phone your husband or not?"

  "I am legally married to him," Andrea admitted, "but…
"

  "Are you separated?"

  "Tell, please!" Hopelessly, she tried to stop his questions so she could explain in her own way.

  "Are you separated?" he repeated forcefully, black fury blazing in his eyes, letting her see that his temper was held by a very thin thread.

  "No!" she acknowledged in frustration.

  "And I don't suppose you love him," Tell jeered.

  'I'm very fond of him." Nervously she ran her fingers through the sides of her hair. "But I never have actually loved him."

  "Then why did you marry him? Is he rich?"

  "That's beside the point," Andrea protested helplessly.

  "I take it that means 'yes,' doesn't it?" His mouth curved into a bitter cynical line. "Now I understand what you meant when you said you'd never known a man. How could I have been so naîve as to think you were trying to explain that you were a virgin? You were really saying that you had a mouse for a husband, weren't you?"

  "Stop it!" she cried. "You don't know what you're saying!"

  "Don't!?" Tell sneered. "Only a henpecked husband would let his wife come to a resort by herself. He had to know that every red-blooded male that saw you would make some kind of advance."

  "Stop it, Tell!" She placed her hands over her ears to deafen the flow of his sarcasm.

  Her left wrist was viciously jerked away. "And don't try to make me believe that you didn't intend to accept some of those advances!" he growled, twisting her hand in front or her face. "You're not even wearing a wedding ring. When did you take it off? After you left his house?"

  A sob rasped her throat. "It's being repaired. I lost one of the stones. I swear, it's in the jewelry shop!"

  "You disgust me!" Anger vibrated through his huskily controlled voice as he abruptly released her wrist.

  "Please. Give me a chance to explain." Her chin quivered uncontrollably.

  "It wouldn't make any difference," he said coldly. "If you were divorced and free to marry, I would never want you for my wife. If you could so conveniently forget one husband, you could do the same with me."