The Rana Look

Eight

“Oh, here she is now.”

Rana heard Trent ’s voice the moment she stepped through the front door, and, following it, the familiar tread of his feet on the hardwood floors.

“Ana?”

“Hi.”

He rounded the corner connecting the center hall to the parlor and took her in his arms for a swift kiss. “There’s someone here I want you to meet.”

“But-”

“You’ve heard of Tom Tandy, wide receiver for the Mustangs. He’s got the best hands in the NFL. He drove down for a visit. I’ve been telling him all about you.”

She tried to dig her heels in, but Trent was pushing her toward the front parlor. She didn’t want to meet anyone, in her frazzled condition. She had been shopping for supplies and she felt hot and disheveled.

And then there was always the chance that she might be recognized when she was introduced to someone. She and Trent had been together for some time. His affection was genuine, Of that she was certain. More than ever she dreaded his finding out that she wasn’t exactly who she pretended to be. How he would feel if ever he discovered her true identity, she couldn’t guess, but she didn’t want to risk it. Everything had been so idyllic, spoiling it now was unthinkable.

They hadn’t been able to keep their love affair a secret from Ruby. That first evening, when Trent had held true to his promise to take them out to dinner, Ruby had shrewdly assessed the situation.

From behind her menu she had said, “It took the two of you long enough to discover each other.”

“What do you mean, Aunt Ruby?” Trent asked innocently.

Ruby lowered the corner of the menu and gave him a baleful look. “I’m not senile or undersexed, young man, and I resent your implication that I don’t know about these things. Where do you think I was last night?”

“You said you were going to nurse a sick friend,” he answered, his brown eyes twinkling.

“I never said it was a lady friend, though, did I?”

Rana’s lips had parted in speechless surprise. Ruby went back to studying her menu. Trent boomed out a laugh that attracted the attention of several diners, who then recognized him and came over to their table to ask for his autograph.

Since then Rana had ceased to be self-conscious about her affair with Trent in front of his aunt. Ruby acted as though there was nothing peculiar about the handsome, charismatic “hunk” falling head over heels in love with the “frump.” But Rana wasn’t so naive as to think that other people wouldn’t find his attraction to her strange.

The moment she entered the parlor and saw Tom Tandy’s expression, she realized just what an odd pair they made in the eyes of the world. Rana and Trent Gamblin would have been a golden couple, but Miss Ramsey had no place at his side. If she hadn’t known that before, the football player’s reaction spelled it outclearly. To say that he was shocked was putting it mildly.

His lantern jaw dropped open and his mouth went slack with astonishment. Rana actually felt sorry for him. Trent had no doubt painted a word picture of her for the young man, and Miss Ramsey was hardly what he had expected.

“Tom, this is Ana Ramsey. Ana, Tom Tandy.”

“How do you do, Tom,” she said, extending her hand. It was still rough and unmanicured, though she had recently wanted to let her nails grow out again just for the pleasure of scratching Trent ’s back with them. When he kissed her hands or held them tightly in his, which was frequently, she longed for the days when they had been pampered. Tom briefly gripped her hand before releasing it. “Please sit down. I see that Trent has already gotten you something to drink.”

Whether Trent realized it or not, this was an awkward moment. She was playing gracious hostess in an effort to put the flabbergasted young man at ease. Now was the time for him to say to his buddy, “She’s as beautiful as you described,” or “I can see now why you’ve tucked yourself away down here in Galveston, you sly thing, you.”

Instead, Tom just stared at Rana. It wasn’t out of recognition. He was simply dismayed, she guessed, over her dissimilarity to all of Trent ’s former girlfriends.

“Would you like another beer” she asked.

“No. No, thank you,” Tom said, lowering his tall, muscular frame back onto Ruby’s antique sofa. The Victorian furniture hadn’t been designed to seat professional football players comfortably. He sank into the deep cushions, and his knees came up almost level with his chest. If Rana could have joked at that moment, she might have remarked on how ridiculously out of place Tom and Trent looked in the parlor, like giants in a dollhouse.

“Do you want a beer, darling” Trent asked as he pulled Rana down beside him on the love seat.

“You know I can’t stand the stuff, but I’ll take a sip of yours just for something wet. It’s so hot out.”

She took a sip from his can of cold beer and licked her lips. He smiled, kissed her quickly, and then looked at Tom as though for approval. Tom just continued to gape.

“Are you staying for dinner, To amp;” Rana asked to break an uncomfortable silence.

“Uh, no.” He cleared his throat loudly when his voice came out as little more than a croak. “I’ve, uh, got to get back. I have a… uh… date.”

He had driven to Galveston with the hope of taking Trent back to Houston with him. He figured that his friend had been playing monk long enough. They were due to leave for summer training camp in a few days. Tom intended to party between now and then, and he had assumed Trent would be thinking along the same lines. It had been shocking enough to learn that Trent had no intention of carousing.

But when Ana Ramsey had walked into the room, Tom felt as if the rug had been jerked out from under him. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Any moment now, he thought, somebody was going to tell him the punch line.

“I think Trent ’s visit down here has done wonders for him,” Tom said conversationally.

If Trent ’s Ana had been beautiful and sophisticated, he would have had no trouble bantering with her. But this woman in the baggy trousers and vest left him tongue-tied. “He’s in better shape than I’ve seen him in in years,” he said.

“We’ve been worried about his shoulder, but when he went to see the doctor last week, he pronounced it completely healed.” She turned to Trent and smiled.

“So Trent says.”

“I think he can lead the Mustangs to the Super Bowl this year and win,” Rana said confidently. She laid her hand on Trent ’s thigh in one of those unplanned gestures that says so much about the level of intimacy in a relationship.

Trent emitted an exaggerated sigh and stretched his arms out along the back of the love seat. “The lady adores me,” he said expansively.

Rana socked him playfully in the stomach. They engaged in a skirmish of batting hands that resulted in an affectionate hug.

“ Trent tells me you paint, or something,” Tom said to Rana when they finally settled down.

“More like ‘or something.’ I paint on clothing, but I’m diversifying. I’m thinking of going into upholstery-sofa cushions and accent pillows, that sort of thing.”

Tom nodded, but she didn’t think he had any concept of what she was talking about. Barry had suggested that if the wealthy women of Houston were willing to spend hundreds on original hand-painted clothing, they might be just as willing to pay thousands to have an original hand- painted chair or chaise or sofa. Rana had given it careful thought and then had bounced the idea off Trent. He had given it his wholehearted endorsement.

“Do some up,” he had suggested. “To see how they catch on, we could place them in a few of the prime properties my company is handling.”

“That’s where I’ve been today,” Rana told Tom now. “I went to a textile-surplus warehouse to buy fabric.” She indicated the large package she had left in the doorway when Trent escorted her into the parlor. “speaking of which,” she said as she stood up, “I’ll excuse myself to go upstairs and get to work.”

“Can’t you relax and visit awhile longer” Trent said, catching her arm.

“I’m sure you and Tom have a lot to talk about, so I’ll leave you alone. It was nice to meet you, Tom.”

He stood up, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “Likewise.”

“See you later, darling.” Trent tugged on her wrist and pulled her down for a lengthy kiss. When she straightened back up, she nodded self-consciously at Tom. After retrieving her package she went upstairs.

Trent watched her go, a smile on his lips. He was remembering last night. His loins stirred with the memory of how good her hair felt brushing against his thighs. Once she was out of sight, he turned back to Tom, who was sitting with his big feet spread wide, staring at the floor between them.

“Well, what do you think” Trent asked, taking a long pull on his can of beer.

Tom twiddled his thumbs, cleared his throat, rolled his shoulders, blew out a gust of air, and finally raised his head. “I think you’re probably the cruelest, coldest, most self-centered sonofabitch I’ve ever known.”

Trent slowly lowered the can of beer. He kept his eyes riveted on Tom as he set it on the coffee table. They stared at each other for a long moment; then Trent laughed shortly. “Any particular reason why?”

Tom stood up and began prowling the room with a notable absence of grace. On the football field he could make impossible catches, leaping between three defenders to come up with the football. But now, he bumped into a tea table, upset a scrimshaw sculpture, and caught his toe in the corner of the rug. Finally, he made it across the obstacle course of the parlor to the window.

“For what you’re doing to this woman,” he said in a low voice.

“What I’m doing to this woman has brought each of us a tremendous amount of pleasure. Not that it’s any of your damn business,” Trent said tightly.

Tom turned around abruptly, controlling his temper only a trifle more successfully than Trent. “You asked my opinion, remember? All right, you’re going to get it. I think the way you’re manipulating this woman is beneath even you, Trent.”

“‘Even me’?”

“Yeah, even you. I’ve seen you break dozens of female hearts. But most of the women you’ve dumped could take it. They had other interests. They had a lot of things going for them. Looks. Plenty of money. And other guys waiting in the wings. I’m not sure this woman can survive you.”

“I hate to keep repeating you, but ‘survive’?”

“What happens to her when you go off to summer camp?”

“She stays here. She sure as hell can’t go and bunk with me. What happens to team wives when the married guys leave for summer camp or travel during the season? I don’t get your drift, Tom.”

“Then I’ll be more specific. What happens to her when you return from training camp, move back into your Houston house, and resume your old lifestyle?”

“Once the season starts, my time won’t be my own. My job will cut our time together. Don’t you think I realize that?”

“Then you intend to go on seeing her?”

“Yes, dammit. What did you think?”

“You intend to make her part of your life in Houston?”

“Yes.”

Tom shook his head in bafflement. “And do you honestly think she’ll fit in? That she’ll feel comfortable with your circle of friends?”

“Why shouldn’t she?”

“Why? Aw, come on, Gamblin. I’m your best friend. You don’t have to pull this dumb act with me. Look at her,” he cried, pointing toward the stairs. “Does she look like the women you usually romance?”

Trent went rigid with fury. His powerful hands balled into fists at his sides. “I think you’d better leave.”

“Like hell I will. I’m not saying this to hurt your feelings. I’m only pointing out what is already so plainly obvious in order to spare her a broken heart. Believe me, my sympathies are all with her.”

“Well, thank you very much, but she doesn’t need your sympathies. And just what is it that’s so plainly obvious to you?”

“That you’re using this woman to salve your ego, just as you’ve used this time away to heal your shoulder. She’s just what you needed. As you said yourself, the lady adores you. It’s apparent from the way she looks at you. It would be easy for any woman to fall for you, Trent. Hell, I’m a man, and I’m straight, but do you think I’m blind? You’re handsome. You’re a hunk. You’re a superstar in the sports world, and according to all reports I’ve heard-usually from women crying their hearts out over you-you’re a superstud in bed. What woman wouldn’t fall in love with you? Any man would envy the luck you have with women, but I think you’re a real bastard for taking advantage of it with this lady.”

Trent placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head back in a challenging stance. “And just how am I doing that, Mr. Psychology Professor?” he asked, prodding his friend where he knew it would hurt the most. Tom Tandy had majored in psychology and had even earned a doctorate. But he felt that a “dumb jock” wouldn’t have much credibility in that field, so he had given up his dream to actually practice.

Tom, rocking on the balls of his feet in an effort to stem his anger, answered calmly. He raised his large hands and began ticking off examples on his fingers. “In the last year you’ve squired a campus queen from the University of Texas whose daddy owns practically all of downtown Fort Worth; a young widow who controls not only her late husband’s cattle empire, but the minds of the social set in West Texas; a woman who chairs a bank in Corpus Christi; and a princess whose royal father is living out the rest of his life in this country in exile. Shall I go on?”

Trent crossed his arms on his chest. “Please do, and get to the point.”

“The point is that in each instance, your relationship with the woman rocked along fine… as long as you were winning. You lose a football game, and zip, the love affair is off. Zilch. Finis.”

Trent shifted uncomfortably and turned his back on Tom, ostensibly to straighten an ashtray on the coffee table. “So I get moody after a loss. So?”

“Uh-uh. It’s more than moodiness, my friend. You have to be top dog in the relationship. The star. You don’t want your woman to outshine you in any shape, form, or fashion.

“You’re a natural competitor on the playing field and in business, and you always play fair. You actually enjoy the challenge. But your love life is one arena where you can’t stand competition. A beautiful or famous or talented or successful woman poses a threat to your ego, especially when you’re losing football games… or suffering from a shoulder injury that might end your career.” Tom came nearer and spoke softly, almost compassionately. “Ana Ramsey poses no such threat, does she, Trent?”

Trent spun around, his jaw grinding with anger, but Tom wasn’t intimidated. He went on undaunted. “She’s not as good-looking as you. She certainly doesn’t outdress you. She doesn’t outrank you in the finance department. I’m sure she’s talented, but you’re the unqualified star this time, aren’t you?”

He drew a deep sigh and laid his hand on Trent ‘s shoulder. “She was just what you needed a couple of weeks ago, a woman who adored you and who accepted your every word as gospel, who thought you could do no wrong. You represented Prince Charming to her. Let’s face facts, Trent. When you came here, you were on a losing streak. You’ve used Ana to pump up your deflated ego.”

Trent ’s anger had dissipated, because some of what Tom had said was right. He liked and respected Tom Tandy both as an athlete and as a human being. Their friendship went back for years, and he supposed that fact gave Tom the freedom to speak candidly.

“On some points you’re right, Tom. But you’re wrong about what I feel for Ana. Initially it was just as you say; I was out for a lark. She was convenient. So why not take advantage? I had nothing better to do.” He peered straight into his friend’s eyes. “But for the first time in my life, I came to really know a woman. It sounds sappy, but I love her. I know she’s different. That’s what I love about her.”

Tom searched Trent ’s face for a long while, weighing his sincerity. Then his ugly features stretched into an embarrassed smile. “Then I’ve been way out of line. I hope it all works out. Friends?” he asked, sticking out his hand.

Trent grasped it warmly and slapped Tom’s shoulder. “Friends.”

Tom left shortly after that. Trent bounded up the stairs shouting Ana’s name. “Where’s the fire?” she asked, poking her head out the door.

“Right here.” He backed her into the room, shut the door with a tap of his foot, wrapped her in his arms, and branded her mouth with a kiss. “I want to make love.”

“ Trent,” she said with a light laugh, and tried to wiggle out of his embrace.

“Now.”

“I’m right in the middle of-”

He kissed her again and touched her knowingly. They were so familiar with each other by now that he knew what she responded to. The fire he spoke of spread into her, and was fueled by her never-ending desire for him.

Clothes were discarded hastily. They knelt together on the floor. His mouth kissed its way down her throat to her breasts. Her back arched over his supporting arms and her heavy hair swung free. Undisciplined, his tongue caressed her nipples until they were taut and dewy. Then he eased her back, positioned her for maximum sensation, and entered her.

Even after it was over, he lay nestled inside her, breathing the floral scent of her hair. It was already growing dusky outside, but he could see her well enough to wonder why Tom didn’t find her as beautiful as he did. Her hair was thick and silky as it spread out behind her head on the floor. Her skin, bathed with a sheen of perspiration from their vigorous lovemaking, seemed to glow in the diminishing light.

He stayed sheathed inside her until he was ready to love her again. This time he went slowly, savoring each precious moment, each delicious sound she made in response to his stroking.

No other woman had ever pleased him so well. All through the evening, he proved his delight in her repeatedly and denied everything that Tom had said. Especially to himself.