Dancer in the Shadows Page 5

  "Very nice." Sean stood in the doorway. "Is that what won you the coveted scholarship?"

  "Yes." She felt both angry and confused at seeing him so unexpectedly. "How did you know I was here?"

  "Instinct." He entered the room, looking around until his gaze fell on the sleeping boy. "Isn't it a little late for him?"

  "He likes coming," Valerie said defensively, turning off the phonograph and picking up a wraparound skirt. "You still haven't told me yet why you're here."

  "I thought we could have dinner together and talk," Sean said coolly.

  "Michael's too tired and he'll just be cranky." Her tone was just as icy. "Some other time."

  "Get someone to watch him."

  Valerie looked up with a mutinous expression. "We have nothing to discuss."

  "Yes, we do." Sean's eyes flickered toward the sleeping Michael.

  Valerie felt a cold rush of fear. "There's a neighbor who babysits for me. I can ask her," she said slowly, stooping down to pick Michael up, not wanting to awaken him. Before she could reach him, Sean had come up and easily picked the boy up in his arms. Michael stirred and drowsily looked at the tall man.

  "Hello," he mumbled sleepily.

  Sean looked down at him with a tender expression. As he looked up at Valerie, his features hardened. "Where's your car?" he asked brusquely.

  Valerie turned off the lights in the classroom and led the way down the small hallway. After locking the front door, she headed for her Fiat. Sean carefully laid Michael on the passenger's seat.

  "I'll follow you to your apartment." He turned, walking toward a silver Mark V. Valerie grimaced at her car as it sputtered when she turned the key. Then the car roared to life.

  On the road, she could see the headlights of the big car behind her, making sure she didn't escape. Michael sat up in the seat, rubbing his eyes.

  "Who's the man, Mommy?" he asked.

  "A friend," she said carefully, unsure of how to tell him Sean's real identity. "He and I are going out to dinner if Mrs. Rogers can stay with you." Valerie pulled into the parking lot, with the silver car following close behind.

  Sean walked up to the car as Valerie got out. "Well, so you decided to wake up." He looked down at the now-alert Michael.

  "Can't I go with you and Mommy?" he begged. "I promise I'll be good."

  "Next time," Sean promised. "Funny thing, your mother forgot to tell me your name."

  "Michael."

  Sean looked over at Valerie's pale face. "Michael?" he questioned softly.

  "All of my name is Sean Michael Hunter, Jr.," Michael said proudly, unaware of the tension between the two adults. "I'm named after my daddy." He jumped out of the car, skipping toward the entrance, then breaking into a run for the stairs.

  "Michael, be careful," Valerie called after him, anxious to break the tension.

  Sean's steely grip held her back. "You have a lot to make up for, lady," he said through clenched teeth. "It's ironic that you wouldn't tell me about my son, yet you named him after me."

  She wrenched her arm free, her green eyes blazing with anger before walking ahead of him. At the apartment door, Sean took her key, inserting it into the lock and opening the door.

  "Go get your pajamas on and brush your teeth," she told Michael before turning to Sean. "I'll be in in a few minutes." He merely nodded as he sat on the couch, looking entirely at home.

  Valerie quickly made a phone call to Mrs. Rogers, who told her she'd be over in twenty minutes. Val had been tempted to tell Sean she couldn't find anyone to watch Michael, but she knew he wouldn't let her escape so easily.

  Since he was dressed in casual slacks and shirt, she chose a pair of powder-blue slacks and a cream-colored shirt with faint blue stripes running through it. She quickly freshened her makeup and ran a brush through her dark hair. After quickly spraying some perfume around her, Valerie walked into the living room, surprised to see Michael, in his pajamas, sitting cross- legged on the couch talking animatedly to Sean. He turned around, grinning at his mother.

  "I brushed my teeth," he informed her. "He has the same name as me." He pointed to Sean.

  "As I, and don't point," Valerie corrected. "I suggest you get into bed—now."

  Michael slid off the couch and turned to Sean, his small hand outstretched. "Good night," he said solemnly.

  "Good night, Michael," Sean said gravely.

  Michael then walked to his mother, arms out for a kiss, before going into his bedroom. Valerie was relieved when the doorbell rang, dispensing with the need for any conversation with Sean. Mrs. Rogers' sharp eyes looked Sean over, noticing the resemblance to Michael. "Don't worry if you're late, dear." She smiled warmly at Valerie, her eyes still on the handsome man standing nearby. "I have no plans."

  Valerie groaned inwardly, reading Mrs. Rogers' thoughts on seeing her with the man who must be Michael's father.

  "Thank you for coming on such short notice." She smiled, preceding Sean out the front door.

  In the parking lot, he courteously helped her into the car, his touch impersonal. Valerie was surprised by Sean's knowledge of the city as he drove through an older section of town, stopping at a Mexican restaurant famous for its fine food. She had never been there, as Craig, on their occasional dates, preferred to take her to American-style restaurants. Here she could appreciate the quiet simplicity of the low, fat red candles burning at each table and the old-fashioned black-and-white photographs, depicting the early days of the city, on the walls.

  When they had been seated, the waitress asked if they wanted drinks before dinner, and Valerie quickly requested a vodka-and-tonic. Sean asked for a particular brand of Irish whiskey. After the waitress took the rest of their order, she left them and Sean laced his fingers in front of him, resting his elbows on the table. "Were you afraid I'd forget you're of age now?" He cocked an amused eyebrow.

  "I wouldn't expect you to remember anything at all about me." Her voice sounded calmer than she felt.

  A hardening of Sean's features was the only sign that he had been affected by her remark. "You seem to have acquired the look of someone who's been around. They'll believe you're of age," he said cruelly.

  Valerie whitened under the ruthless gaze. She began to rise from the table, wanting to be as far away from him as possible.

  "Sit down." His tone was that of a man used to being in command.

  "I won't stay here to be insulted," she said in a low voice.

  Sean leaned back in his chair, lazily lighting a cigarette. "They always say the truth hurts." He spoke briskly. "But that isn't why I brought you here."

  "Then why are we here?"

  "I suggest we eat our meal first." He spoke calmly as the waitress approached them with their food.

  Valerie looked at her chicken enchilada without any appetite. But knowing Sean would not say anymore until after dinner, she attempted to swallow a few bites. There had been times when she had wondered what would happen if he ever appeared in her life again, but she had never thought beyond that. Glancing up under her lowered lashes, she noticed the wide gold band on his left hand. Her hand trembled as she recalled the moment when she had slipped it on his finger. She took a hasty gulp of her drink, letting the alcohol soothe her frazzled nerves. She pushed her plate away, tensely waiting for Sean to finish. He looked up, noticing the faint trembling of her chin.

  "When did you cut your hair?" he asked unexpectedly.

  "T-two years ago," she stammered, surprised by his sudden question.

  "Makes you look younger in some ways." He lit another cigarette. "Now, as to this cozy family reunion..." His lips twisted cruelly.

  "It's about Michael, isn't it?" She felt a wave of panic inside.

  "How old is he?" he asked.

  "Three and a half," Valerie replied, anger beginning to override panic. "What's wrong? Don't you believe he's your son?"

  "I'd have to be blind to miss the resemblance." His smile was amused. "So I wouldn't suggest that you try to make me believe he i
sn't mine. After all, Craig has blond hair."

  Valerie gasped at his malicious remark.

  "And, as he is mine, I should have some say in his upbringing," Sean continued.

  "In what way?" She was suspicious.

  "He needs a father," he stated coldly.

  "He has me; that's enough," she retorted.

  "You may be able to soothe a stomach ache or chase away the bogeyman, but you can't teach him to play baseball or show him a man's world," he pointed out—correctly, to her irritation. "You can't do everything for him, Val."

  "What you're saying is that you want to take him away from me," she replied in a choked voice.

  His dark eyes took in the naked pain on her delicate features. "Not exactly—just that both of us should give him a home." He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Let him find out he has a father, too."

  "I'd like to go, please." Valerie fumbled for her purse and fled the restaurant before her tears could fall.

  In the parking lot, her taut nerves threatened to break as she waited beside the car. Sean unlocked the passenger's door and helped her in before walking around to the driver's side. He slid behind the wheel, then turned, reaching out to grip her chin, jerking it roughly until she faced him. Green eyes stared into brown ones, a small animal mesmerized by a larger one ready to attack. Sean's fingertips caressed her jawline and moved sensuously along her throat. Valerie trembled under his touch as his fingers tightened convulsively around her throat.

  "How does Saunders make love, Valerie, my sweet?" he mused, tightening his grip until tears sprang from her eyes. "Do you curl up to him in the middle of the night? Or utter those throaty moans of joy as he possesses you?"

  "Do you enjoy abusing women, Sean?" She finally managed to choke out the words. "Does it turn you on?"

  A look of disgust appeared on his granite features as he released her so suddenly she flopped back against the seat. He turned, flicking on the ignition, silently driving her back to her apartment. She tried to make a hasty escape, but his reflexes were faster than hers. He was out of the car and at the passenger's door by the time she unbuckled her safety belt.

  "Thank you for dinner," Valerie said stiffly. "But you don't need to come up with me."

  "We still have a few more things to get settled." The steel grip on her upper arm brooked no argument as he escorted her upstairs.

  Mrs. Rogers took in Valerie's pale, strained face as the couple entered the apartment. "He's asleep." She smiled warmly, picking up the rolls of fluffy yellow yarn and her silver crochet hook. "I'll be saying good night." She let herself out quietly.

  "Would you like some coffee?" Valerie asked tautly.

  "No. Just sit down and listen like a good little girl."

  She perched on the edge of the chair farthest away from Sean. The corners of his mouth quirked in amusement as he saw her reluctance to be near him. Sean sat on the couch, his hands clasped loosely between his legs.

  "I might as well just come to the point," he said crisply. "What you did—not telling me about Michael—is inexcusable. I won't tell you my exact feelings about it because I don't like to use that kind of language to a woman. But you're going to make up for it—in spades."

  "Make up?" Her voice was faint.

  "I want my son." His announcement sent icy flashes through her body. "But as I know you'd try to fight me every step of the way, you'll have to come, too." Sean's dark gaze settled on her shocked features. "I have a house outside of town, and there's plenty of room there for him to run around and play and do whatever else little boys do."

  "And if I don't consent to your so-called idea?"

  Sean's eyes traveled around the small living room, noting the slightly shabby furniture. Valerie clenched her hands under his appraisal. It was obvious from the well-tailored clothes and gold watch he wore that he had few monetary problems.

  "If not, then I'll take you to court to get custody of him," he stated coldly.

  "He's just a little boy, not an inanimate object. He has feelings, too. I can't just let him go with you. He doesn't know who you are!"

  "That's your fault, not mine!" he informed her tersely. "That's why you have to come along, too."

  "I have a job!" she protested. "Besides, you don't want me. You only want Michael." Her words ended in a faint whisper that held a touch of wistfulness. Valerie kept her eyes on her clenched hands to avoid seeing the cold truth visible on Sean's face. "It wouldn't work out," she said flatly.

  "Then what about a compromise?" he suggested. "A six-month trial. After that, if you want your divorce you can have it, and you'll be well provided for. But I want custody of Michael. Or you can stay with Michael and play the role of a well-adjusted wife without any complaints."

  "To protect you from adoring females with big ideas?" Her mouth twisted bitterly.

  "Val, I'll have Michael one way or the other." His eyes narrowed to slits. "So what is your answer?"

  "I-I'll have to think it over." She stumbled over her words as she rubbed her forehead agitatedly.

  "You think it over. You just do that." Sean rose to his feet with the lithe grace of a jungle cat. "And by next weekend be prepared to move into my house." He walked toward the door.

  His highhanded tactics made Valerie bristle with anger. Her head rose to face the man she now considered her enemy. Her green eyes narrowed to emerald slits as she also rose to her feet and walked toward the door.

  "Tell me, Sean—" her tone was sarcastic—"do you still wear your wedding band so that your girlfriends can't get serious? It must be a wonderful form of protection. You know what I mean—'I'm sorry darling, but I have a wife already.'" She kept on ignoring the danger signs emanating from his rigid body.

  "Of course, you didn't let yours stop Saunders from climbing into your bed," he sneered.

  Unthinking, Valerie's hand shot out, slapping Sean across the face. For an electric moment she stared horrified at the red marks her fingers had left against the tanned skin of his cheek. With a harsh exclamation he roughly pulled her against him, his lips savagely bruising her soft mouth.

  "No!" she gasped as his surging mouth punished hers.

  "This is exactly what you deserve," he muttered against her mouth, his hot breath fanning her flushed face.

  The punishing kiss brought back memories of the incident at the dance, and Valerie began to panic. She frantically struggled in his iron embrace, feeling waves of fear course through her body. She wanted to cry out in protest against his punishment. Sean took his time, ruthlessly plundering her mouth, robbing the sweetness within. Her tears flowed freely when he finally lifted his head and released her.

  "I'll be here a week from tomorrow at ten. I suggest you and Michael be ready." A thread of steel was evident in his voice. "Otherwise, be prepared to face the consequences."

  "Oh, yes, I know your method of punishment only too well," she whispered, not seeing a strange look pass over his face as he began to stretch out his hand, which

  he hastily drew back, as if regretting his impulsive action.

  "None of your disappearing tricks, either," he added as he opened the door. "I'm becoming well versed in your little tactics."

  After Sean left, Valerie childishly wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. She walked into Michael's bedroom as he sat up in bed, rubbing sleepy eyes with his fists.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, facing him. "Michael, Sean has a very large house near here and would like us to live there with him. Would you like that?"

  "Why?" He posed to his favorite question.

  "B-because he's your father, Michael." She cursed herself for telling it so bluntly. "He wants us all to be together."

  The small boy appeared to study his mother's tense features. "Can I take my bear with me?" He referred to his favorite toy.

  "Of course you can." Valerie laughed, hugging him before she tucked him in and went thoughtfully into her own room.

  Sometime later, still awake, her mind drifted, remem
bering the intense virile man she had tried, in her own naive way, to know. Painfully, she wondered how much Sean remembered of that last night they were together. She shivered, remembering the savage passion he had displayed toward her as he cruelly used her to prove his dominance. Young and inexperienced, Valerie had not known that it had been injured male pride and alcohol that had turned him into a vengeful animal. Fearing his anger, she had fled. His manner through most of tonight and at the dance showed her he hadn't changed. Yet, sometimes tonight, he had seemed different. Even though she had panicked under his punishing kiss, tiny flames of desire had begun to burn. Moaning softly, she wrapped her arms around her body, soon falling into a deep sleep and not even waking up when Shelly came in much later.

  The next morning, Valerie was awakened by a soft and furry object tickling her nose. Opening her sleep-filled eyes, she gazed into two green ones filled with laughter.

  "Shelly said I shouldn't talk too loud or I'd wake you up," Michael whispered. "So I let my bear wake you up, instead. She didn't say he couldn't."

  Chapter Four

  Valerie laughed, kissing him soundly on the cheek. "And thank you for such a lovely way to wake up." She playfully rubbed her nose against his.

  "Hey, buster, your breakfast is on the table." Shelly stood in the doorway. "You wait too long and it will get cold." She raised her eyebrows questioningly toward Valerie. "Michael said his father was here last night."

  She nodded her head yes.

  "What happened?" Shelly asked.

  "I'll tell you when my 'hears all, tells all' goes out to play." Valerie got out of bed, pulling on her cotton robe. "He has a habit of repeating all the wrong things."

  Shelly chuckled. "Take your time getting dressed. I'll make sure that he gets at least half of the food in his stomach and not on the floor."

  As she had done many times before, Valerie silently thanked her stars for a friend like Shelly. She had taken Val in without questions and helped her throughout the hard times when she was trying to find a job and someone to take care of Michael. Mrs. Rogers had taken care of Michael since he was three months old and treated him as if he were one of her own grandchildren.