Fit for a King. Diana Palmer
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be less of a strain to be alone at times.”
“I don’t know how to do anything,” Bess said sadly. “I married fresh out of high school, so I never really learned how to do much … besides be a wife.”
The irony of Bess’s situation wasn’t lost on Elissa. “We can all do something,” she said gently. “Paint or write or play an instrument or do crafts….”
“I used to play the piano,” Bess replied. She looked down at her hands. “I was pretty good, too. But Bobby resented the time I spent practicing.” She laughed bitterly. “How’s that for a reversal?”
“I’ve always wished I could play,” Elissa said enthusiastically, glancing at King’s set, solemn face and hoping to alleviate the tension Bess’s comments were feeding.
“You design clothes, don’t you?” the other woman asked curiously, her eyes faintly approving the jump suit. “Did you design that?”
“Yes, do you like it?” Elissa asked eagerly. “I haven’t shown this one to my parents. They’d be—” She stopped short, jamming on verbal brakes as King glared at her. “They’d be delighted,” she concluded weakly.
“Of course they would. They’re very proud of you,” King said quickly.
“What do your parents do?” Bess asked politely, raising her glass to her lips.
Elissa gnawed her lip. “They’re … they’re into ancient history,” she said truthfully. Wasn’t the Bible a record of human history, after all?
“How interesting.” Bess finished her drink, tossing back her hair as she glanced at the diamond-studded watch on her slender wrist. “Bobby’s late,” she muttered. “Another business meeting that ran overtime. Or so he swears,” she added under her breath. “Too bad I’m not a briefcase; I’d be swamped with affection these days.”
“It’s a difficult time, Bess. Subcontracting can be extremely time-consuming,” King reminded her. “Jamaica desperately needs outside investments, and the hotel Bobby’s planning will employ a lot of people, help the economy. But it has to be properly built. These things take time.”
“It’s been months already,” Bess muttered dispiritedly.
“It will be over soon,” King said, “and you’ll be back in Oklahoma City.”
Bess looked up. “Yes, I suppose I will. What a trip to look forward to. Instead of staring at hotel walls, I can stare at my own for a change,” she said dully. Her eyes searched King’s. “You never visit us anymore, Kingston. You spend most of your life here.”
King swirled the Scotch in his glass and stuck his free hand into his pocket. “I like Jamaica,” he said. He glanced deliberately at Elissa. “A lot.”
Bess took an audible breath and drained her glass. “Pour me another, would you, please?” she asked, handing it to King.
“I think you’ve had enough, Bess,” he replied. He took the glass and put it aside, gazing down at a chastened-looking Bess. She merely folded her hands in her lap and looked defeated.
Elissa was trying to decide what to do to cheer them all up when a car came up the winding sandy drive from the main road. A horn sounded, and seconds later, a car door slammed.
“It’s Bobby,” Bess said dully.
King strode to the door to meet him, and Elissa found Bess staring after him with quiet misery in her eyes.
Elissa watched Bess watching King. “What’s your husband like?” she asked, diverting her.
Bess blinked, looking startled. “Bobby? He’s … he’s a businessman. He doesn’t look much like Kingston, even though they had the same mother. Kingston’s father was Indian,” she added.
“Yes, I know.” Elissa smiled at her. “You’re very pretty.”
Bess’s eyes widened. “You’re very frank.”
“It saves thinking up lies.” She cocked her head at the other woman. “How did you and Bobby meet?” she asked.
Bess laughed softly. “You’re so unexpected! Bobby was our star quarterback, and I was a cheerleader.”
“King says you’ve been married about ten years, yet you never had children,” Elissa mused aloud. “Didn’t you want any?”
Bess sighed, looking at her shoes. “When would Bobby ever have time? He’s always at the office or on the phone.” She pushed back her hair angrily. “I never thought it would be like this. I thought—Anyway, who wants kids?” she murmured, avoiding Elissa’s eyes. She shifted restlessly on the couch. “They just clutter up people’s lives. I would love to go back to studying piano again, though. But my practicing would disturb Bobby when he’s trying to work at home.”
“How sad,” Elissa said, and meant it. “I think a woman needs fulfillment as a person, just as a man does.”
Bess frowned. “It floored me when you asked if I did anything. You know, I never realized that I might be able to do something with myself….”
Elissa heard male voices; King and Bobby were approaching, much to her relief. She was finding this hard going. It shouldn’t have bothered her that King was in danger of falling in love with this bitter, confused woman, but it did. It bothered her a lot.
“How long have you and Kingston been … been together?” Bess tried to sound casual, but there was pain in her voice.
“Well …” It was extremely difficult for her to fabricate, and Elissa was grateful that King and a shorter man suddenly appeared in the doorway.
“There you are. Finally,” Bess said as the younger man came in a step ahead of King. She looked at him and then averted her eyes. “Did you get what you went for?” she asked. The question sounded innocent enough, but Elissa sensed something in the blonde’s voice, something faintly accusing. Perhaps she wondered if Bobby’s “business” was really business.
“Of course,” Bobby replied. He gave his wife an intent appraisal, his gaze both searching and faintly defensive.
He wasn’t anything like King, Elissa decided. His hair was dark blond, and he was blue-eyed. He wasn’t a bad-looking man at all, and he was slim but well built. He had a nice mouth, and he seemed pleasant enough altogether. But he looked weary and worn, and there were deep lines in his face.
“Your husband has approved the subcontractors,” King announced with a grin. “And the bids were well under budget. He’ll make you a rich woman yet, Bess.”
“How lovely,” she said carelessly. “I’ll run right out and buy a new mink.”
“You’d better get a strong cage and some thick gloves,” Elissa said with a mischievous smile.
Bess looked up, clearly puzzled by the remark. She frowned. “Cage? Gloves?”
Bobby got the joke and burst out laughing, instantly looking years younger and more approachable. “I’m afraid you’ve got it wrong,” he told Elissa. “She doesn’t want a mink kit. She wants the real thing—a ready-made coat.”
“Oh, a fast-food mink in a manner of speaking,” Elissa agreed. “Got you.”
King’s eyes sparkled as he watched her, his firm lips tugging up in a smile. “Watch this girl,” he cautioned his half brother. “She’s got a quicker mind than I have.”
“That’ll be the day you old—I mean, darling,” she drawled at King, winking. “I happen to know that yours is a genuine steel trap, always set and ready for business.”
“A better description I haven’t heard,” Bobby agreed. “You must be Elissa. Kingston’s told me so much about you over the past couple of years that I feel as if I know you already. Tell me, how