Strange Bedfellow by Janet Dailey

by the scarf she had discarded.  
    “You have to get hold of yourself,” she scolded her reflection in the rearview mirror.  
    Turning the key in the ignition, she started the powerful motor of the little car and drove away, wondering what she was going to do with herself for the rest of the day.  
     

 
    Chapter Six
     
    TYPICALLY, THE LOUNGE was dimly lit. Overhead lighting was practically nonexistent and the miniature mock lanterns with their small candle flames flickering inside the glass chimneys provided little more. The dark wood paneling of the walls offered no relief, nor did the heavily beamed low ceiling.  
    Tucked away in an obscure corner of the lounge, Dina had a total view of the room and the entrance door. A drink was in front of her, untouched, the ice melting. Five more minutes, her watch indicated, but it already seemed an interminable wait.  
    An hour earlier she had phoned Mother Chandler to tell her she would be late without explaining why or where she was. Blake would be angry, she realized. Let him , was her inward response. The consequences of her meeting with Chet she would think about later.  
    Brilliant sunlight flashed into the room as the door was opened. Dina glanced up, holding her breath and hoping that this time it might be Chet. But a glimpse of the tall figure that entered the lounge paralyzed her lungs. Her heart stopped beating, then skyrocketed in alarm.  
    Just inside the lounge, Blake paused, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. There was nowhere Dina could run without drawing his attention. She tried to make herself small, hoping he wouldn't see her in this dim corner of the room. Dina felt rather than saw his gaze fasten on her seconds before his purposeful strides carried him to her table.  
    When he stopped beside her, Dina couldn't look up. Her teeth were so tightly clenched they hurt. She curled her hands around the drink she hadn't touched since it had been set before her. Despite the simmering resentment she felt, there was a sense of inevitability, too. Blake didn't speak, waiting for Dina to acknowledge him first.  
    “Imagine meeting you here,” she offered in a bitter tone of mock surprise, not letting her gaze lift from the glass cupped in her hands. “Small world, isn't it?”  
    “It's quite a coincidence,” he agreed.  
    There was a bright glitter in her blue eyes when she finally looked at him. His craggy features were in the shadows, making his expression impossible to see. The disturbing male vitality of his presence began to make itself felt despite her attempt to ignore it.  
    “How did you know I was here?” she demanded, knowing there was only one answer he could give.  
    And Blake gave it. “Chet told me.”  
    “Why?” The broken word came out unknowingly, directed at the absent friend who had betrayed her trust.  
    “Because I asked him.”  
    “He promised he wouldn't tell you!” Her voice was choked, overcome by the discovery that she was lost and completely alone in her confusion.  
    “So I gathered,” Blake offered dryly.  
    Dina averted her gaze to breathe shakily. “Why did he have to tell you?”  
    “I am your husband, Dina, despite the way you try to forget it. That gives me the right to at least know where you are.”  
    His voice was as smooth as polished steel, outwardly calm and firm. Her gaze noticed his large hands clenched into fists at his side, revealing the control he was exercising over his anger. He was filled with a white rage that his wife should arrange to meet another man. Dina was frightened, but it was fear that prompted the bravado to challenge him.  
    “You were in Chet's office when I called, weren't you?” she said accusingly.  
    “Yes, and I could tell by the guilty look on his face that he was talking to you. After that, it didn't take much to find out what was going on.”  
    “Who did you think I would turn to? I needed him.” Dina changed it to present tense. “I need