Painted Moon Part 6

"I know," she said at last. She stepped away from Constance's hand and heard her sigh. "Would you like some coffee?"

"If you're still hooked on gourmet blends, I'd love some." Constance's upbeat tone had returned. "So. Have you been working?"

"I only started to recently. You may be psychic, because I was going to send you some snapshots in a few weeks."

"Lee-you're kidding. I'm so happy for you. I know it's been tough, darling. Can I peek?"

Smiling indulgently, Leah led the way to her studio. She felt so good about the work she had no qualms showing it to Constance. Constance had a good eye for art and, importantly, an eye for what would catch critical opinion and what would sell - sometimes two completely different things. Leah wanted both.

As she opened the door she said, "The entire series is called Painted Moon. I had a houseguest over Thanksgiving-"

"A houseguest? Someone besides me?" Constance swept into the studio after Leah, taking her hand. Her tall, slender frame was rigid with indignation. She caught Leah's gaze and held it. "Who was it?"

"A woman who got lost in that big storm over Thanksgiving." She waved a hand as though the contact had meant nothing, hiding the fact that remembering Jackie still moved her pulse to an aerobic level. Her fingers still felt the sensation of Jackie's wetness surrounding them, her ears could still hear the moaned, fervent Yes. "Anyway, the moon came out in an eerie blue, almost as if it were painted by the snow. It really got my creative juices flowing."

"Is that all that got flowing?" Constance turned away, obviously not expecting an answer to her jibe.

"Your mind is always on one thing," Leah observed.

"Not that it ever did me any good with you. The only artist I've ever met who wasn't ready to hop into bed-" Her voice trailed away as Leah uncovered the first canvas. "Lee. My G.o.d."

"There are eight in the series. This is Moon Pines."

Constance sank down to her knees to examine the bottom of the painting where streaks of silver meshed with thick whorls of pewter paint. "It's exquisite. Oh, darling, it's beautiful." Her tone was breathless and she seemed mesmerized.

Leah swelled with pleasure and felt tears start in her eyes. She trusted Constance's judgment and it touched her that Constance had lost her hard-boiled composure.

"The silver work-you should have been a metallurgist."

"It's aluminum with silver. I still have more to solder into place and then finis.h.i.+ng, of course."

"There's something about the color. Women will go ape for these colors. You've always stuck with primaries before... The snow... How did you..." Constance began shaking her head. "Show me more."

Leah gave Constance all the time she wanted with each canvas. Each one was as tall as Leah, and Constance studied every inch.

"If ever I wanted to keep something for the gallery, it would be this. You've obviously been working some long hours. But we're going to make a tidy fortune with these, darling."

Leah sighed. "I always feel sad about selling them. But that's life."

Constance turned from After the Moon. "I'm going to feel sad too. But as you say..." Her gaze fell on the covered easel. "What are you working on now?"

Leah tried to be nonchalant. "Just an experiment. I'm not ready to show it." She didn't want Constance to see the painting. She wasn't sure she wanted anyone to see it - especially Jackie.

For a moment, it seemed as though Constance would protest, but then she smiled indulgently. "If the surprise is as good as the ones I've seen, I can wait." She put her hands on her hips and regarded Leah with an open, appreciative smile. "You're better than ever, sweets."

Leah found herself responding to Constance's openness. "Thanks. So are you."

Constance made a noise of disbelief. "Is that a compliment? Is the reticent, hard-to-pin-down Lee Beck complimenting little ol' me?"

"I won't do it again if it bothers you so much," Leah said with a laugh.

"That's okay. I can handle it. So, are you inviting me to dinner?"

"If you stay that late, you may as well stay the night," Leah said slowly. She swallowed as Constance radiated happiness at the idea. She'd never seen the sophisticated, elegant Constance so open about what she felt. But then, she hadn't seen Constance for almost two years.

"Darling, you couldn't drive me away."

They settled in front of the Franklin stove after a simple dinner of bread and spaghetti. Constance was full of all the latest gossip - who had received grants and who hadn't. Who was sleeping around and who wasn't. Who had been the rage of the fall gallery shows and who hadn't. Constance knew everyone and everything about the art world. The Reardon Gallery was San Francisco's leading art house, and she had a dozen important art world discoveries to her credit, one of whom was Lee Beck.

Leah nonchalantly brought up the subject of Jellica Frakes. Not that she thought Constance even knew that Jellica had a daughter.

"She's getting the Fulvia Award this year. The ceremony's next weekend, I think. For her Weavers series."

The series that Jackie had mentioned. "Where's that on display?"

"It's on tour. London right now, I think. It'll be at MOMA in the city sometime next March, I think. Since when are you a Jellica fan?"

"Her daughter was my unexpected houseguest," Leah admitted.

"If she's anything like her mother... my, my. I met Jellica once and nearly died. She's gorgeous-in an Eleanor Roosevelt sort of way. I always wondered why her students mentioned her with such - not awe. Respect and high regard. And fondness. She was definitely handsome." Constance grimaced. "Happily married to a Canadian amba.s.sador from a monied Quebec family. Too bad. Whenever anyone tells me they don't like her work I always probe at why and sure enough, it's envy."

"Jackie's not in the least like Eleanor Roosevelt," Leah said with a smile. "She's too... it's hard to describe. Her features are all ordinary, but she has expressive eyes. A deep green, almost dark gray. The way they fit is not pretty, but pleasing. Maybe her mouth is too wide. I sketched her and tried to figure it out."

Constance regarded her warily. "You're trying too hard to make it seem like it didn't matter, but she really shook you, didn't she?"

Leah nodded. "I should have known I couldn't lie to you. Yeah, she shook me. But like mother, like daughter. She's straight and in a relations.h.i.+p." Her nose should grow for that lie, she thought. No one who said Yes the way Jackie had could be satisfied with her relations.h.i.+p.

"Well, that's good," Constance said, her pale green eyes looking into Leah's. "Maybe there's room for me in your life now."

Leah blushed. "I'm starting to feel like a deer and you're the hunter."

"You're hardly defenseless, sweets. And I can't be coy with you. I want you too much." Constance's voice caught as though she was startled by the frankness of her admission.

Leah didn't know quite what to say. "You know, I've never really considered being with you."

Constance laughed with a hint of bitterness. "Sharla was always there. G.o.d, how you loved that woman. It made me crazy. There was never any room for anyone else. I always felt as though you wouldn't even let yourself like me."

The mention of Sharla didn't bring its usual stabbing pain. Leah sighed. Since Jackie had come and gone in her life, it hadn't. "I won't apologize for loving Sharla."

Constance turned sharply toward Leah. "Don't. I'd think less of you if you did. Just get on with your life. I'm offering..." She held out her hand and Leah slowly took it. "At least let me be your friend."

"You want more than that."

"Yes, but friends.h.i.+p is a start. It's more than I've had."

Leah considered the fair, delicate hand she held. Constance's fingers were long and slender, her nails trimmed and polished, her palm smooth and soft. "I can't offer you anything more," she said slowly. I'm a fool to keep thinking of Jackie, she thought. A fool to keep wanting her.

Constance's voice was tremulous. "Can you at least offer me your bed for the night?" Leah was amazed, awed even, by Constance's emotion. "No strings. I understand." She tightened her grip on Leah's hand.

In answer, Leah slowly kissed Constance's palm. She felt Constance s.h.i.+ver in response and her own body p.r.i.c.kled with sensual awareness. "Let's go upstairs," she said quietly.

Constance broke the tense mood at the foot of the ladder. 'I thought you said stairs."

Leah laughed. "Sorry. Think you can make it?"

Constance gave her a gamin grin. "If the climb will be worth the effort."

"Tell me tomorrow," Leah said, starting her climb with a laugh. She was glad that the mood had become a little less intense. As she pulled back the covers and switched on the electric blanket, she felt a wave of misgivings. Doing this wasn't fair to Constance.

Then Constance was sinking onto the bed and pulling Leah after her. "Kiss me."

It wasn't hard to obey the husky command.

Constance met her kiss eagerly, capturing and holding Leah's face. "You taste like I thought you would," she said. "Very nice."

Leah straddled Constance's waist and gave herself up to being explored. Constance's hands swept up Leah's ribs, then slid around her back, pulling Leah's black turtleneck out of her jeans. Leah felt a jolt of pa.s.sion when Constance's fingertips brushed her bare back and she moaned, lowering her mouth to Constance's again.

A deep sigh rippled through Constance's body. Leah knelt over her, her skin chilling as Constance pulled Leah's turtleneck and unders.h.i.+rt over her head, then brought her warm hands back to Leah's shoulders. She stared up at Leah from the bed, her face framed by the pale gold of her hair. She bit her lower lip as her hands slid down and gently cupped Leah's b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Every nerve in Leah's body goosepimpled. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s felt swollen and she thrust them forward into Constance's hands.

Constance licked her lips and drew her breath in deeply. Her hands moved to the b.u.t.tons of Leah's jeans, fumbling slightly with each until they were all undone. Her hands slid under the waistband and pushed the clothing down. She sat up, pus.h.i.+ng Leah back until she could sit up. Then slid her hand unerringly to the center of Leah's pa.s.sion.

Leah shuddered, and pulled Constance's mouth to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She'd been ready for this since Jackie... unfair, unfair, she reminded herself. This is Constance, the first woman to touch you since Sharla. The only woman to touch you besides Sharla.

Constance. Leah gave herself up completely. She urged Constance inside her with slow undulations of her hips. She held Constance's mouth hard against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, encouraging tender bites.

Constance held her tightly, her fingers stroking Leah's urgent need. "Come on," she whispered fiercely into Leah's b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Come on."

Leah went rigid -too much sensation, too much pleasure. Another stroke inside her, then another and her body jerked, giving way to Constance's demand. Piercing yellow danced behind her clenched eyelids, mixed with waves of crimson and hyacinth. She cried out as she sank into Constance's waiting arms, then sobbed, "Oh G.o.d," into Constance's shoulder.

"Okay, it's okay," Constance whispered in her ear. "I'm sorry I went in so fast like that."

"No, no, don't be," Leah gasped. She shuddered again and managed to get a hold of her emotions. "I'd forgotten it could feel so good."

"It's been a long time for you," Constance said soothingly. "Let's get comfortable and take it slow."

Leah shook her head. "I don't want to go slow."

She rolled onto her side and unzipped Constance's slacks. Constance had beautiful legs - firm and lightly tanned. A birthmark graced the inner curve of one thigh, spoiling the perfection and making them that much more alluring.

Constance opened her legs and Leah settled between them. She nipped gently at the smooth lines where hip met thigh.

"Don't tease me," Constance suddenly whimpered. "Lee, I've waited too long."

The taste of Constance was like amber, like topaz. Musky, not sweet, heady, somehow dark. Leah swept her tongue inside, seeking deeply for Constance's essence and felt hands pressing her in. She fought the pressure and finally came up for air, then dove again into the depths of Constance's pa.s.sion. Her pleasure at loving Constance intensified to rich sable. The brush of Constance's hair was soft as mink against her forehead.

When Constance finally pushed her away, Leah could only think how unlike Sharla, who had tasted of carmine, fuchsia and claret. Unbidden, still steeped in the scent of Constance, she wondered what Jackie tasted of. Then she mentally kicked herself for longing after a woman she'd never see again.

Constance came to her, her mouth hungry, and Leah gave up all thoughts of Sharla and Jackie. Tomorrow she might think of them again, but tonight belonged to Constance. She would feel guilty for using her tomorrow. But that was tomorrow.

She opened herself to Constance's loving attention.

Leah awoke to hear Constance muttering loudly about the "d.a.m.ned inconvenience" as she made her way down the ladder.

Her voice gravelly, she called out, "You get used to it."

"It's a good thing I don't have to pee urgently. I'd never make it, between the ladder and the fact that it's freezing in here." Feet thudded on the floor and Butch barked.

Leah sat up. It was after noon, and she hadn't fed Butch when she'd gotten up earlier in the morning. The house was cold, but this morning all that had been on her mind was a quick trip to the bathroom, brus.h.i.+ng her teeth and then scrambling back into bed with Constance.

A dam had broken within her, and she knew that the bitter despair of losing Sharla was receding. She could still close her eyes and long for Sharla, hear her voice, imagine she smelled her. But the memories of their love were growing into a comforting blanket she could pull close when she needed the warmth. She still carried the regret and guilt of Sharla's drowning - maybe she'd never be rid of that. But Jackie had started her on the road to her future, and Constance had pushed Leah from a crawl to overdrive.

Butch made her feelings very plain as Leah scooped out food and set it down. The wounded, accusing glare from the expressive brown eyes moved Leah to defrost some of Jackie's turkey broth and spoon it over the kibble. Butch wolfed it down and then retired to the front of the kitchen stove, her nose in the air. Leah stoked up the stove and was finally rewarded with the thump of a tail on the floor.

She saw to the stove in the living room and then slipped into the bathroom as soon as Constance emerged from it, all pink from a shower and wrapped in Leah's robe.

She hurried through her shower and pulled on clean sweats. She caught her reflection for a moment in the fogged mirror. She wiped away the mist and stared at herself intently. Her lips had more color, her eyes were warm, the brown almost a dancing bronze.

She no longer looked like death. Sharla, oh my love. She blinked back the beginning of tears and saw her lips curve in a gentle smile.

Constance was huddled on the couch. "When does it get warm?"

"Very soon," Leah said. "I'm starving. I think it's time for lunch."

"Me too." Constance said. "All that activity," she added with a smirk.

Leah grinned. "You know, I'll bet the winds are still pretty high over at Kirkwood."

Constance lowered her gaze demurely. "You're probably right. It would be a waste to drive over there to SOOa. Perhaps you should stay over another night."

"Perhaps I should," Constance said. The robe slipped open to frame Constance's alluring decolletage.

She looked up at Leah through her light brown lashes. "I suppose you wouldn't take advantage of a poor maiden, now would you?"

Leah laughed wickedly. "I was planning to."

"Well, good," Constance said. She reclined on the couch, letting the robe fall open. "But you've got to warm it up in here. Or cover me with something. Preferably yourself."

It was no hards.h.i.+p to pull a half-naked Constance into her arms. For a while they pretended Leah was only trying to keep Constance's b.r.e.a.s.t.s out of the cold, and then that Leah was only trying to warm her hands between Constance's thighs. Then they were beyond pretense.

8.