Silver Linings, стр. 66

Then he quickly released her lips and buried his own face in the pillow to stifle his groan as he poured himself into her.

His own muffled shout of triumphant release made the bed vibrate.

The angry shrill of the telephone brought Mattie out of a sound sleep with a start. She flailed around in the rumpled bed until she managed to silence the offending instrument by the simple expedient of lifting the receiver in the general direction of her ear.

She regretted the action immediately. A tearful Ariel was screaming more loudly than the phone had been ringing.

“He's there with you, Mattie, isn't he? I know he is. He went to you just like all the others did. Put him on the line right now. I want to tell Flynn Grafton to his face that he will never be able to crawl back into my bed. I don't care how hard he begs.”

“Good morning to you, too, Ariel. Nice of you to call.” Mattie opened her eyes and gazed at the ceiling. She was alone in the bed. Down below she heard the low rumble of men's voices and the clink of a pot. The aroma of strongly brewed coffee wafted upward.

“I hope you're satisfied, Mattie,” Ariel sniffed. “After all these years I hope you're finally satisfied. You've done it, haven't you? You've gotten your sneaky little claws into the only man I ever really wanted.”

“Ariel, contrary to popular opinion around here, Flynn and I are not having an affair.”

There was a click followed by the hollow sound on the telephone line that indicated someone had picked up the downstairs receiver.

“Oh, God, an affair,” Ariel whispered, apparently unaware of the other presence on the line. “An affair. I knew it. I was praying that it was just a one-night stand. Something done in the heat of the moment like that stupid fling you had with Hugh last year. Something you might have at least had the decency to regret the way you regretted that. But, no. No, you're bragging about it, aren't you?”

“Ariel, you're not listening. I just told you, I am not sleeping with your husband. I have never slept with your husband. I have no desire to sleep with your husband. And he has no desire to sleep with me. He loves you.”

“He went to you last night. He didn't come back home. He went straight to you. Did you comfort him, Mattie, the way you did the others? Offer him herbal tea and sympathy? Tell him you understood all the stress he was under? Damn you.”

“For Christ's sake, give it a break, Ariel,” Hugh ordered brusquely. “Grafton's here, all right. He slept on the couch. I should know. I'm the one who spent the night in Mattie's bed. I would have noticed a third party in the sheets, believe me. I'm fussy that way.”

“Hugh? You're there, too?” Ariel's sobs halted with dramatic swiftness.

“I'm here, all right.”

“You were there all night?”

“Where the hell else would I be? I'm engaged to Mattie, remember?”

“Thank God,” Ariel said, switching instantly from pathetic victim to vengeful shrew. “Put Flynn on the line at once.”

“My pleasure,” Hugh said.

There was a brief, fumbling sound and then Flynn's voice spoke very coolly into the phone. “Ariel?”

“Flynn, how could you do this to me? I was so frightened when I woke up this morning and realized you'd never come home. Do you have any idea of what I've been through? Do you know what it was like having to call my own sister to find you? How dare you do such a thing?”

“You're the one who told me to get out and stay out, remember?” Flynn sounded vaguely preoccupied. He also sounded as if he were munching on something.

Mattie dropped the receiver back into the cradle, got out of bed, and reached for her robe. She went to the edge of the loft and looked down over the waist-high red metal railing.

The first thing she noticed was her modest nightgown. It had been tossed rather negligently, Mattie thought, over the back of the chair Hugh was occupying.

Hugh himself looked arrogantly at ease, quite the master in his own home, as he sprawled in the chair. He had a mug of coffee in his hand, and there was a plate of bran muffins on the low table in front of the couch. He had not bothered to put on anything except a pair of jeans, Mattie realized. His bare feet were propped on the coffee table, and his bare shoulders gleamed in the morning sunlight.

Flynn, rumpled from a night in his clothes, was eating one of the bran muffins as he listened to Ariel's tirade.

“I hear you, Ariel,” he said calmly. “Ease up, honey. You've made your point.”

Flynn took another bite of muffin and wrinkled his nose while he listened to Ariel's response.

“What was I supposed to do after you locked the door? Stand out in the hall and beg?” he finally asked.

More munching while Flynn listened.

“No,” he finally said during a pause. “Nothing's changed. I know you don't like it, but I've done a lot of thinking about this and my mind is made up. I'm going to ask Mattie to hang my more commercial stuff and that's final.” Flynn finished the muffin and picked up his mug of coffee. “Ariel, I may be the greatest undiscovered artist who ever lived, but I'm also your husband. With any luck, one of these days I'll be a father. I've got some pride, okay? I want to carry my own weight in this family. Maybe I'd better talk to you later when you're feeling calmer.”

Flynn hung up the phone quite gently and sat hunched over his coffee. “The lady is very unhappy,” he said to Hugh.

“I got that feeling,” Hugh replied. “Wish I could help you out with a few tips on handling her, but the truth is, I never did understand Ariel. She and I were like oil and