The Season Of Love: Beloved. Diana Palmer

love the opportunity to settle the score.”

      She recalled that Simon had antagonized plenty of people when he held the office of state attorney general. But it would have taken more than a scandal to unseat him. He had a clever habit of turning weapons against their wielders.

      She closed her eyes and ground her teeth as she realized how pitiful she was about him, still. Everything reminded her of Simon. She hadn’t wanted to come tonight, either, but the alternative was to stay home and let the whole city know what a coward she was. She had to hold her head up high and pretend that everything was fine, when her whole world was lying in shards around her feet.

      She hadn’t tried to kill herself, but one particularly lurid newspaper account said she had, and added that it had been over former attorney general Simon Hart, who’d rejected her. It was in a newspaper published by a relative of Jill Sinclair, a woman who’d been a rival of Tira’s for Simon during the past few years. Tira had been even more humiliated at that particular story, but when she’d phoned the reporter who wrote it, he denied any knowledge of Jill Sinclair. Still, she was certain dear Jill had a hand in it.

      Tira shuddered, realizing that Simon must have seen the story, too. He’d know what a fool she’d been over him, which was just one more humiliation. Living that down wasn’t going to be easy. But she did have Charles beside her. And he had his own ordeal to face, because his sister-in-law would certainly be present.

      A valet came to park the car for Charles, who was torn between escorting Tira inside or accompanying the elegantly dressed young man assigned to the car placement to make sure he didn’t put a scratch on Big Red.

      “Go ahead,” Tira said with amused resignation. “I’ll wait on the steps for you.”

      “You’re such a doll,” he murmured and made a kissing motion toward her. “How many women in the world would understand a man’s passion for his car? Here, son, I’ll just ride down with you to the parking lot.”

      The valet seemed torn between shock and indignation.

      “He’s in love with it!” Tira called to the young man. “He can’t help himself. Just humor him!”

      The valet broke into a wide grin and climbed under the steering wheel.

      It was unfortunate that while she was waiting on the wide porch for Charles to return, Simon and his date got out of his elegant town car at the steps and let the valet drive it off. He looked devastating, as usual. He was wearing the prosthesis, she noticed, and wondered at how much he seemed to use it these days. Just after the wreck, he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing an artificial arm.

      The woman with him was Jill Sinclair herself, a socialite, twice divorced and wealthy, with short black hair and dark eyes and a figure that drew plenty of interest. It would, Tira thought wickedly, considering that her red sequined dress must have been sprayed on and the paint ran out at midthigh. Advertising must pay, she mused, because Simon certainly seemed pleased as he smiled down at the small woman and held her elbow as they climbed up the steps.

      He didn’t see Tira until they were almost at the top. When he did, he seemed to jerk, as if the sight of her was unexpected.

      She didn’t let anything of her feelings show, despite the pain of seeing him now when her whole life had been laid bare in the press. She did her best not to let her embarrassment show, either. She smiled carelessly and nodded politely at the couple and deliberately turned away in the direction where Charles and the valet were just coming into view.

      “Why, how brave she is,” Jill Sinclair purred to Simon, just loud enough for Tira to hear her. “I’d never have had the nerve to face all these people after that humiliating story in the—Simon!”

      Her voice died completely. Tira didn’t look toward them. Her face was flaming and she knew her accelerated heartbeat was making her shake visibly. She and Jill had never liked each other, but the woman seemed to be looking for a way to hurt her. She was obviously exuding her power since she’d finally managed to get Simon to notice her and take her out. God knew, she’d been after him for years. Tira’s fall from grace had obviously benefitted her.

      Charles bounded up the steps and took Tira’s arm. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

      “You love your car,” she replied with a warm smile. “I understand.”

      “You’re one in a million,” he mused. His hand fell to grasp hers, and when she looked inside the open doors she knew why. His half brother was there, and so was his sister-in-law, looking unhappy.

      “Gene,” he called to his older half brother. “Nice to see you.” He shook the other man’s hand. Gene was tall and severe looking with thinning gray hair. The woman beside him was tiny and blonde and lovely, but she had the most tragic brown eyes Tira had ever seen.

      “Hello, Nessa,” Charles said to the woman, his face guarded, a polite smile on his lips.

      “Hello, Charles, Tira,” Nessa replied in her soft, sweet voice. “You both look very nice. Isn’t this a good turnout?” she added nervously. “They’ll make a lot of money at five hundred dollars a couple.”

      “Yes,” Tira agreed with a broad smile. “The hospital outreach program will probably be able to afford two vans and the services of another nurse!”

      “For indigents,” Gene Marlowe said huffily, “who won’t pay a penny of their own health care.”

      The other three people looked at him as if he’d gone mad. He glared at them, reddening. “I have to see Todd Groves about a contract we’re pursuing. If you’ll excuse me? Nessa, don’t just stand there! Come along.”

      Nessa ground her teeth together as Gene took her arm roughly. Charles looked as if he might attack his own brother right there. Tira caught his hand and tugged.

      “I’m starving,” she told him quickly, exchanging speaking glances with a suddenly relieved Nessa. “Feed me!”

      Charles hesitated for an instant, during which Gene dragged Nessa away toward a group of men.

      “Damn him!” Charles bit off, his normally pleasant face contorted and threatening.

      Tira shook his hand gently. “You’re broadcasting,” she murmured, bumping deliberately against his side to distract him. “Come on, before you cause her any more trouble than she’s already got.”

      He let out a weary sigh. “Why did she marry him?” he groaned. “Why?”

      “Whatever the reason doesn’t matter much now. Let’s go.”

      She pulled until he let her lead him to the long buffet table, where expensive nibbles and champagne were elegantly arranged.

      “This is going to eat up all the profits,” Tira murmured worriedly, noting the crystal flutes that were provided for the champagne, and the fact that caviar was furnished as well.

      Charles leaned toward her. “It’s grocery store caviar, and the champagne is the sort they deliver in big round metal tractor trucks…”

      “Charles!” She couldn’t repress a giggle at the insinuation, and just as she felt her face going red from glee, she looked up and saw Simon’s pale eyes glittering at her from across the room. She averted her eyes to the table and didn’t look in that direction again. His expression had been far different from the one he’d worn when he’d seen her in the hospital. Now it was indignant and outraged, as if he blamed her for the publicity that made him look guilty, too.

      Charles did waltz divinely. Tira found herself on the floor with him time after time. People noticed her, and there were some obvious whispers, which probably concerned her “suicide attempt.” She was uncomfortable at first, but then she realized that the opinion of most of these people didn’t matter to her. She knew the truth about what had happened and so did Charles. If the others wanted to believe her to be so weak and helpless that she’d die rather than face up to her failures, let them.

      “Doesn’t