The Rana Look

Ten

Shelooked spectacular.

The dress she wore had been specially designed for a fragrance commercial. It was white, and highly dramatic. When she had gone through the trunks her mother had shipped to her, she’d selected this dress to wear to the party because it was one of her favorites and so typically “Rana.”

She had altered the side seams to accommodate her fuller figure, but the silky fabric still draped each curve of her body as though caressing it. The neckline, which left one shoulder bare, was banded by sparkling beadwork. She wore no ornaments except a pair of jeweled earrings as glittering as tiny chandeliers.

She had trimmed her hair herself and conditioned it. After half an hour in hot curlers she hung her head down and brushed it vigorously. When she flung her head back, her hair fell into a full mane that framed her face and rippled over her shoulders.

Her nails were still short, but she had manicured them carefully and polished them with a frosted coral shade that matched her lip gloss.

Her complexion glowed after the facial she had treated it to. The olive skin tone was deepened to an even richer hue by her tan. She hadn’t lost her knack for applying makeup. The cosmetics weren’t obvious, but the effect she deftly created was startling. With her hair full and brushed away from her face, her cheekbones were prominently displayed.

It was an exotic face that reminded one of a pagan priestess. Blatantly sensual. A face that had a love affair with any camera.

The limo cruised to a halt in front of the River Oaks mansion, where the party was being held. The chauffeur came around to help her out. Clutching her small white, rhinestone-studded bag, she accepted his extended hand. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“My pleasure, Miss Ramsey. Have an enjoyable evening.”

The summer twilight was warm and balmy, heavily scented with blooming gardenias and magnolias. But the soft, humid air was only one reason her skin felt damp. She was nervous.

Behind a temporary rope barricade, representatives of the media trampled a low boxwood hedge as they clamored for photographs of arriving Mustangs team members and guests.

Shoulders back, head straight, swan neck arched, Rana swept past them. Someone whistled. “Jeez, who does she belong to?” The speaker was a sports reporter. He didn’t recognize her. But the society reporter standing next to him did.

“Hurry,” she instructed her photographer excitedly. “Take some pictures. Quick, before she gets inside.”

“Who is she?” asked the curious sports reporter.

“Rana, you fool. Don’t you ever read anything but Sports Illustrated? Come to think of it, she was featured in their swimsuit edition a few years ago.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember now. She’s a famous model, isn’t she?”

“The tops.”

“What’s she doing here?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out. She hasn’t been seen in public for months. The rumor was she’d gotten fat, or something.”

“Every woman should be so fat,” he said, leering.

Rana had overheard enough of the conversation to know that her cover was blown. The die was cast. Whatever the outcome, it was out of her hands now. She didn’t care what anyone else thought or said about her. How would Trent react?

She glided up the front steps of the colonial-style house. standing just inside the front door was a distinguished- looking white-haired couple, whom Rana recognized as the owners of the Houston Mustangs football team. They were talking to Tom Tandy.

She paused for a moment before continuing forward. Tom saw her out of the corner of his eye. He did a double take. In typically male fashion, his eyes slid down, then back up.

“Hello, Tom,” she said softly. Her voice was barely loud enough for him to hear over the loud music and raucous conversation.

His eyes swung up to hers. Stupefied, he responded with a mumbled, “Hi.” He made room for her beside the team’s owners, who were looking at her curiously and obviously awaiting an introduction.

“Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, I’d like you to meet, uh, Miss, uh, Ms…

It was apparent that Tom didn’t recognize her, so she spared him further embarrassment. “I’m Rana,” she said, extending her hand.

Mr. Harrison shook it, stunned speechless, as most men were upon meeting her for the first time. Mrs. Harrison, however, smiled graciously and said, “What an honor to have you in our home, Rana. That is a stunning dress.”

“Thank you.”

“Tom, why don’t you get Rana something to drink?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. You want to, uh…” He nodded toward the bar, indicating that she should move in that direction with him. He didn’t touch her. She thanked the Harrisons for the party and left them to greet the other guests who were filing in. As he shouldered his way through the crowd, Tom stared at her in bewilderment, trying to figure out how this beautiful creature knew him. Why didn’t he remember ever meeting her? He’d never been that drunk!

“‘Rana,’ you say?”

“Yes, but I was introduced to you as Ana. In Galveston. A few weeks ago. Have you seen Trent? Is he here yet?”

Tom stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth fell open as though hinged at the jaw. He gripped Rana’s shoulders in his large hands and stared down at her. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He repeated that several times, then threw back his head and howled with laughter. “That sonofa-. Wait till I get my hands on him. He’s played some rotten jokes on me, but this one is the big granddaddy. That… that… Boy, did he ever put one over on me. And you too! You were in on it, right? Lord have mercy, I wouldn’t have recognized you in a million years.”

“It wasn’t a joke, exactly. You see, I-”

She spotted Trent.

He was standing several yards away, chatting companionably with several of his teammates-linemen, if their size was any indication. They towered over Trent, but to Rana, he was the most impressive man in the room.

His dark hair was as carelessly styled as ever, curling over his ears and collar. His tanned face contrasted appealingly with his white shirt. Only Trent could get by with wearing such closely fitted white trousers. They were perfectly tailored to his narrow buttocks and trim thighs. The fit of his navy blazer was impeccable.

As he laughed, his teeth flashed brilliantly. His brown eyes, which kept glancing toward the front door, were shining with excitement and expectation.

Rana’s heart ached with love for him. She wanted to continue staring at him for a long time, prolonging the inevitable. But it had to happen. Only seconds after she’d spotted him his eyes scanned the crowd and came to a stop on her.

Trent, like his friend before him, did a double take when he saw the dazzling woman in white. She had dark red hair, skin that looked as lustrous as marble and as delicious as a ripe peach, eyes that spoke volumes, and a figure that made him think she might not be real.

Feeling a sharp pang of guilt for the sudden pounding of his heart, he tore his eyes away from her. Where was Ana?

The woman’s eyes compelled him to go back for one more look. She was still staring at him. He acknowledged her interest with a slight nod. Her lips parted in a hesitant smile. He noticed then that her front teeth overlapped a little, but they certainly didn’t detract-

Rana knew the moment recognition dawned in Trent. She saw realization break across his face as visibly as ink spilled on white paper. Disbelief was the first expression she read there, then gladness. He even elbowed his way past a monstrous tackle and took a step toward her. She experienced one blissful moment of pure joy before the expression she had dreaded appeared on his features.

The wide smile, there only a fleeting second ago, disappeared abruptly. His eyes went from shining warmth to glittering coldness. Even his body changed. It became stiff and rigid, as though he had snapped to attention.

She watched him turn angrily on his heel and shove his way through the crowd. The partygoers around them, unaware of the drama unfolding in their midst, were still drinking, eating, celebrating.

“Say, I don’t get it,” Tom said as Rana set out after Trent. “What’s wrong with him? What’s going on?”

“We’ll explain everything later, Tom.”

“Do you want me to come along?”

“No. Thanks anyway, but we need to be alone,” she said over her shoulder.

It only took that rapid glance behind her to lose sight of Trent. He had always seemed to tower over her, but he was dwarfed by most of his teammates. The athletes seemed as immovable as giant redwoods when Rana tried to wend her way through them. Her eyes frantically darted around the obstacles of their massive bodies.

She caught a glimpse of Trent going through a set of French doors on the far side of the room and struggled to push through the crowd. It didn’t help when the dance band chose that moment to break into the team’s theme song. Drunk on champagne and optimism about the forthcoming season, everyone went a little crazy.

She finally made it through the gyrating throng to the French doors, and stepped outside into the sultry evening. Steps led down to a brick patio and a magnificent pool. A pair of lovers was unabashedly necking on a chaise. Trent was angrily striding around the far end of the pool, furiously grappling with the knot of his necktie.

“ Trent, wait!”

Either he didn’t hear her or he was ignoring her cry. She feared the latter and went running down the steps after him. Her progress was impeded by her high heels and narrow skirt. She kicked off her shoes and hiked the skirt of her dress above her knees.

The bricks were hot. By contrast, the grass was cool and damp on her bare feet as she followed Trent ’s progress across the lawn toward the man-made lake. A white summerhouse with lacy gingerbread trim stood on its ferny banks.

It was there that Rana caught up with Trent. He was in the act of slinging off his blazer and throwing it into a wicker chair. His necktie lay looped around his neck, and his shirt was unbuttoned almost to his waist. His impressive, hair-matted chest was heaving with rage.

He launched his verbal attack the moment she stepped into the opening of the gazebo. “Did you come to see if my ears were growing?”

Baffled by his question, she shook her head. Until then she hadn’t realized that she was crying. Tears splashed against her cheeks. “What? What do you mean?”

“You made a jackass out of me. I presume you came to see if I could actually bray.”

“It’s not like that, Trent.”

Belligerently he propped his hands on his hips. “No? Then what is it like? Huh? At least have the courtesy to tell me why you made a fool of me. ”

“Making a fool of you wasn’t my intention. You moved in on me, not the other way around. Remember? Who pursued whom first?”

He looked down at the index finger that was pointing at him imperiously. He didn’t recognize it as the one often smudged with paint. The eyes that gazed into his in the darkness were exquisite. And unrecognizable as well. His anger was momentarily overridden by bafflement. “Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Rana.”

“I know that,” he said irritably. “I’m not your average dumb jock, though you obviously seem to think so. I read magazines. I drive down the highway, for heaven’s sake.” He made an angry, sweeping gesture with his hand. “Who could miss you sprawled across a billboard half naked? I watch TV. I see the inane talk shows that focus on the really important things, like hem lengths, while half the world is starving.”

“Oh,” she ground out, “and I suppose a football game has much more global merit.”

He put his face in his hands for a moment, trying to cap his erupting temper. “You’re right. Neither one of us amounts to much, do we? The thing that galls me is that I make no bones about my shallowness. You, on the other hand… What was the disguise for? Those damn clothes and all the rest?”

“I left modeling behind me more than six months ago. I got fed up with it.”

“With looking great? With having the world at your feet, with every woman in the world trying to copy your look? Come on, Ana, or Rana, or whatever the hell your name is, I wasn’t born yesterday. Give me a reason that’s at least plausible enough to believe.”

“It wasn’t the career I left behind. It was everything that went with it.”

“Yeah,” he said sarcastically, “like fame and fortune.”

“My mother was trying to sell me to a rich old man,” she said heatedly. “Is that plausible enough for you? I chose not to prostitute myself that way, and left New York. I came here, moved in with Ruby. I wanted a new name. An unrecognizable, plain, ordinary face. Anonymity. Peace. I wanted people to accept me without the glamorous trimmings, to see past the surface, into the woman I am on the inside.”

“Okay, I’ll buy that for now.” His eyes took in the hairdo, the dress, the accessories. “But what about tonight? Why, after having made that drastic change, did you show up like this tonight?”

She took a step toward him. “I fell in love, Trent. With you.”

He turned his back and shoved his hands into his pockets. He stared out over the still lake. Not a breath of air stirred. It was suffocatingly muggy. Crickets whirred from the trees lining the lake and bullfrogs croaked from cool, muddy hideouts. The music from the party seemed even farther away than it was, as though it couldn’t quite penetrate the heavy air.

“What has that got to do with anything?” he asked after a tense, lengthy silence.

“Everything. You said you love me. Me,” she stressed, pressing her hand over her breasts. “Well, this is a part of me. Up until a few months ago it was a vital part.”

“How do I know your love for me isn’t as phony as the rest of you?” He came around to face her again.

His accusing glare made her angry. “What was phony about Ana Ramsey?”

“Her name, for one thing,” he said, punctuating his outburst with a jabbing finger.

“You assumed my name was Ana because you saw ‘Ana R.’ on the paintings. That’s Rana spelled backward, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Very clever,” he said snidely. “Why didn’t you correct me?”

She knotted her fingers together at her waist. “I was still afraid of discovery. I didn’t have it all sorted out yet. I needed more time.”

“You’ve had time since then. Plenty of time.”

“But when would it have been right to tell you, Trent? You were falling in love with me, and I wanted you to.” A tear rolled down her cheek. It didn’t spoil her beauty. It was as crystal-clear and sparkling as the jewels that dangled from her ears. “You were the first person in my life to like me, then to love me, for what I was, not for what I looked like. I couldn’t bring myself to risk losing that. Forgive me for deceiving you.”

She shuddered as she drew in an unsteady breath. “You’re angry, and you have every reason to be. I knew you would be, when I came here tonight. But I never intended to make a fool of you. I didn’t enjoy tricking you all those weeks. There were times I wanted to tell you, but you said you loved me because I was different. I wasn’t certain you’d love Rana as you did Ana.”

She blotted the tears off her cheeks and laughed softly. “After our first night together, I wanted to put on makeup, to dress up. I wanted to be beautiful for you, just as any woman wants to be beautiful in the eyes of her lover. But the things you said to me, your touch, made me feel beautiful. More beautiful than I’ve ever felt. And it had nothing to do with what I looked like.

“For you to understand my motives, you would have to know the loneliness this face”-she pointed a finger toward her chin-”has caused me all my life. I won’t belabor the point, because you might think, ‘What is she complaining about? Her face has made her a fortune. She’s beautiful.’ But I’ve known the same kind of cruel discrimination an unattractive woman is subjected to. Prejudice, rejection, alienation, hurt, no matter what the reason.”

She moved to stand close to him and bravely laid her hand on his chest. “You loved Ana in spite of her plainness. I’m the same woman, Trent. Can you love me-more than that, can you accept me-if I wear this face?”

His eyes were embarrassingly moist, and he blinked in an effort not to disgrace himself. “You are so beautiful,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t… I don’t know you. You’re like something out of mythology, a goddess.”

“But I’m not, Trent. Talk to me,” she pleaded. “Touch me. Kiss me and you’ll know I’m the very same.”

She met him more than halfway. He didn’t do much more than incline his head toward her before she flung her arms around him. She rested her head on his chest and held him close.

“I missed you,” she whispered, nuzzling her face in the opening of his shirt. Her breath feathered through his chest hair. She kissed his tanned skin. “I missed you.”

He groaned softly and pulled the familiar body closer to him. His fingers sank into her hair, and he tilted her head back for his kiss. But a second before their lips met, he hesitated.

She gripped handfuls of his hair and pulled him down nearer. “Don’t you dare become a coward now. Don’t you dare be afraid to mess me up. Kiss me just as you always have.”

That invitation was the only one he needed. His lips slanted hard and hungrily over hers. They parted eagerly. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth and made fervent love to it. Her arms locked around his neck possessively. She arched up against him, adjusting her body to complement his.

Then he knew. She was his. He was home.

“What did Aunt Ruby think?”

“Poor dear. For once, she was speechless.”

“She recognized Rana?”

“Oh, yes. You know her and her fashion magazines. She had heard my mother call me Rana and-”

“Your mother? When?”

“I had a surprise visit from her. I found out that Morey-”

“Who’s Morey?”

“My agent. My friend who died.”

“The one you thought was a suicide?”

“Yes, because that was what my mother had led me to believe.”

“What a bitch.”

“Yes, well…”

“I’m sorry for the interruptions. Go ahead. This is all so confusing.”

“I’ll fill in the blanks later. Suffice it to say that Mother came to see me and it wasn’t a happy reunion.” Her voice took on a sad tone. “I hope that someday she and I will reach an understanding and feel some affection for each other.”

Trent kissed her temple gently. “I hope so, too, but only for your sake. Anyway, back to Aunt Ruby.”

“She had actually heard two people call me Rana, but apparently the name didn’t sink in. When I came downstairs tonight, she just stared and started sputtering. I told her I’d explain everything later.”

“It seems that you’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Miss Ramsey,” he said, lifting her chin with his finger.

“Yes. But as I said… later.”

He pulled her over him and laced his fingers together on the back of her head. Their kiss was lengthy and intimate and erotic.

They hadn’t stayed at the party long after their reconciliation. After some tempestuous kissing in the gazebo, they had repaired their clothes and retrieved Rana’s shoes before returning to the house. Tom met them on the patio, looking worried and confused.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

They invited him to join them as they went through the sumptuous buffet line. Over supper they gave him a brief rundown of the facts. Tom shook his head in aggravation. “I might have known that Gamblin, my buddy the superstud, would end up with the most gorgeous woman in the whole U.S. of A.,” he grumbled.

“Are you really a ‘superstud’?” Rana asked him now, latching onto his earlobe with her teeth. They were lying entwined, naked, in his king-size bed. After a cursory tour of his house and a terse good night to the hovering housekeeper, Trent had taken her straight to bed.

“Complaining?” He cupped her hips with his hard, strong fingers and held her in place.

“Uh-uh.” She sighed, rocking against him. “But I’m a monogamous creature, Trent.”

His eyes locked with hers. “So am I. Now.”

She traced his mouth with her fingertip. “Do we have a future together?”

“We do if you’ll have a broken-down football player for a husband.”

She lifted his right hand to her mouth and kissed the crooked fingers. “I want you for my husband more than anything in the world. But you’re far from broken down.”

“I’m serious, Rana.” The name came easily to him now. “This season I might get out there on the field and make a laughingstock of myself from Green Bay to Miami.”

“You won’t,” she whispered fiercely. “But if you don’t win a single game, it won’t be the end of the world. Don’t you know by now what a tremendous success you are?”

“I am?”

“At the things that are really important.”

“Such as?”

“Such as being a loving, caring human being.”

“You don’t think I’m manipulative? Tom accused me of falling in love with ‘Ana’ solely because you were the first woman who didn’t threaten my fragile ego.”

She denied that theory with a shake of her head. “I disagree with him, but maybe I helped teach you something.”

“And what was that?”

“That all any of us has to give is our best. If we do that, we succeed, no matter what the outcome.”

“I have learned that. But you’ve got to promise not to scold when I get moody and sullen after losing a game.”

She kissed him. “I’ll just have to think of ways to improve your bad moods, won’t I?”

He angled his head to one side, and his eyes shone with a teasing light. “You know, I was a trifle jealous when those photographers clustered around us tonight as we left the party. They were as eager to get pictures of you as they were of me. Will you ever want to go back to modeling?”

“Maybe, but only if it doesn’t conflict with you and the children.”

His mouth slanted into that sly grin she loved. His eyebrow tipped down toward it. “Children?”

“Do you mind?”

“Hell, no. I’ve always had a hankering to fill up this house with a few kids.”

“Good. Because I want to get started right away!”

He laughed and hugged her tightly. “God, you’re gorgeous.” He proudly surveyed her face. “I’d like to see you in action, preening before a camera or strutting down a runway with a spotlight on your hair.” He ran his hands through it and she smiled.

“I’ll have to lose some weight first.”

“Lose some weight! You’re all bones now.”

“Not nearly bony enough to strut down a runway. But now that I’ve acquired a taste for potatoes and gravy, I don’t know that I’ll ever go back to a diet of lettuce and water.”

“Just don’t lose these,” he said, lifting his head to kiss her breasts. “They’re perfect.”

She sighed as his mouth moved over her, then adjusted her body to his and took him inside her. He filled her with a warm, solid pressure.

“That’s beautiful,” he said with a groan.

“What?”

“That little sound you make every time I’m inside you. I want to hear it every day, at least once, for the rest of my life.”

“Then you plan on keeping me”

“I guess I will.”

“Don’t sound so self-sacrificing.”

“Well, I do feel a little sorry for you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He moaned with extreme pleasure when she made a rolling motion with her hips. “If I don’t marry you, you might end up an old maid.”

“Why?” she asked on a soft gasp as he drove deeper.

“Because, you poor, homely thing, your front teeth are crooked.”

Then he kissed her and heaven rained down.