Love's Masquerade Read online

  “I’m so close...to coming. I don’t know...how long I can wait.”

  Auden’s heart beat wildly and her vision narrowed to the point where she could barely see. Quickly, she moved back up to Hays’ side, her palm once again on Hays’s abdomen, her lips on Hays’s mouth.

  “Why should we wait?”

  “Just a little longer.” Hays stopped the hand that was moving lower on her belly, then ran her fingers along the curve of Auden’s hip, over her thigh, and up the inside on her leg. “Let me bring you with me.”

  Auden shivered. “I’m not sure...I don’t know...”

  “Auden,” Hays murmured, her fingers dancing higher, “you don’t need to do anything. I just want to touch you.”

  “Yes.” She found Hays’s eyes and clung to the intense gaze, needing the tenderness to hold her safe. “Yes. Please.”

  For an instant, Hays stopped breathing as she crossed the last boundary, reverently seeking Auden’s passion. She found her full and hard, warm and so very wet. “Beautiful,” she whispered.

  Auden lifted her hips, inflamed by the light caress. “I want...oh, I...” Beyond words already, she slid her fingers between Hays’s thighs, stroked the length of Hays’s clitoris, and felt Hays answer with an echoing caress. “I’m going to die.”

  “No,” Hays gasped, hanging on to sanity by a thread. “No, not from this.” She circled and pressed and teased until Auden whimpered, ignoring the tug of Auden’s fingers on her own turgid flesh. She knew when Auden grew harder still that her orgasm was near, and then she eased a finger inside her.

  “Hays,” Auden cried, the new sensation jolting her from the cloud of her approaching climax. “Oh, that feels...more, oh God...more.”

  Hays held back, stroking Auden’s clitoris gently, waiting for the pleasure to open her further. Then, shaking with the effort to be careful, Hays entered her again, first one, then two fingers, filling her completely just as she felt Auden peak. Auden came with a sharp cry, closing around Hays’s fingers, rocking into her palm.

  The incredible beauty of Auden’s climax was enough to drive Hays to the edge. When in the midst of her own release, Auden pressed inside her, Hays shuddered and tumbled after her into orgasm.

  “Hays?”

  “Hmm?”

  Auden was curled up in Hays’s arms, her cheek nestled against Hays’s neck. “I’m...speechless.”

  “Me, too.” Hays laughed softly, running her hand down Auden’s arm. “You are so amazing.”

  “Really?” Auden asked, inordinately pleased.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “So, it’s okay that I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful I feel?”

  “It’s not easy to describe.” Hays kissed the top of Auden’s head, nuzzling her face in the fragrant softness, wondering how one put joy into words. “I know I can’t.”

  “As I recall, Rune manages to describe it pretty well,” Auden teased, kissing the tender skin beneath Hays’s ear. “She has quite a way with words.”

  “Yeah, well, Rune isn’t usually writing in a post-orgasmic daze.” Hays thought of the solitary hours in the middle of the night, of the silent yearnings and the distant dreams. She drew Auden closer. “Besides, being with you is more than Rune has ever managed to capture with mere words.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Auden laid her palm over Hays’s heart, reveling in the steady beat. “I love the way you write. I love the way you touch me—with your words, with your body.”

  Hays pressed her lips to Auden’s temple. “I’ll never be able to tell you what this has meant to me. Maybe when I can think again, I’ll find a phrase or two that comes close, but there is no way to describe the places inside me that you have blessed.”

  Auden slid on top of Hays, cradling her head in her hands, stroking her damp hair back from her face. Their legs entwined naturally as the planes of their bodies melded. “You don’t have to search for words. I heard you just now. You told me with your hands, and with your mouth, and with the beat of your heart around my fingers.”

  Hays gasped as a wave of excitement crested in her depths, swamping her unexpectedly. She was too raw, too open, physically and emotionally, to contain her response. “Auden,” she murmured brokenly as she trembled with the gently rippling orgasm.

  “Oh my God,” Auden whispered in astonishment, watching the pleasure course across Hays’s beautiful face. “Is that...are you...oh, you are too gorgeous.”

  Closing her eyes, she was aware of Hays’s erratic heartbeat and ragged breathing. She had never realized how vulnerable, and how majestic, a woman could be at the moment of orgasm; witnessing it, she felt both powerful and eternally humbled. Turning onto her side, she gathered Hays into her arms and curled around her, protecting and shielding her until she returned to herself. Lips against her lover’s ear, she whispered, “Thank you.”

  When Hays awoke, it was morning. Auden was asleep with her head on Hays’s chest, and the room was suffused with the bright glow of early-spring sunlight. She didn’t remember drifting off, only the supreme lassitude after climaxing in Auden’s embrace and the peace that had followed while being held in Auden’s arms. As she stared at the ceiling, watching the patterns of light chase across the pale surface, she tried to remember when she had ever felt so content. She couldn’t recall a time.

  Oh Auden, why now? She’d asked the question once before, but then she had been filled with rage. Rage at the injustice and fickleness of a fate she had long given up trying to change. Now she asked out of helplessness and despair, because she so very much wanted this moment not to end. Turning her cheek to Auden’s hair, she wept silent tears.

  Auden lay motionless, feeling the faint tremors in Hays’s body, watching through half-open lids Hays’s hand trembling against her arm. There were bruises on the inside of Hays’s forearm that she had not seen in the dim light the night before. Her heart twisted at the sight, and she tightened her hold around Hays’s waist.

  “Are you awake?” Hays’s voice was muffled, her face shrouded in Auden’s blond hair.

  “Yes.” Auden turned her cheek, kissed the soft skin of Hays’s breast. “You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?”

  “What?” Hays stiffened. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because,” Auden said carefully, “in almost everything you’ve written about us, you only come so close. And then you leave.”

  “Those are just stories. Just fiction.”

  “Are they? And is Rune just a fiction? Or is she you?”

  Hays was quiet, trying to distinguish her feelings from her fears. “Auden, I’m not sure I can stay.”

  The words were not wholly unexpected, not after the tears Auden had just felt dampen her hair. But still they struck deeply, terrifyingly close to the heart of her own insecurities and doubts. “Last night...if I wasn’t—”

  “Last night was wonderful.” Hays brought her hand to Auden’s chin, lifted her face to look deeply into her eyes. The hurt she saw there stabbed at her heart. “It was everything I have ever dreamed of. You were perfect.”

  “All right then,” Auden said, drawing a shaky breath. “If you don’t have a lover, and we were good together—what could be wrong? Something I’ve done?”

  “It’s me, Auden. It’s my problem.”

  Auden took Hays’s wrist in her hand and turned her arm up to the light. There were puncture marks in the center of the bruises. “Is this the problem? Are these from drugs?”

  Hays laughed hollowly. “Christ, it would be better if they were.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Did you think all this time I didn’t know something was wrong?” Auden asked quietly, still lying in Hays’s arms. “Do you think I can’t see it in your face, recognize it in the things that you write?” She stroked the arm that was curled around her middle, then grasped the fingers, drawing them to her lips for a kiss. “Do you think I can’t see how much pain you’re in?”

  “You see too much, Auden,” Hays whis
pered, her face against the top of Auden’s head. “You have since the first day we met. When you look at me, I feel as if every secret I ever had is exposed.”

  “Not true. I can’t see this one.” Auden smoothed her hand over Hays’s chest and pressed as close to her as she could. “And you have to tell me.”

  Hays was silent, struggling between the need to share her burden and her desperate desire to go back to the moment before Auden had awakened. Back to that moment of pure and simple joy. But she couldn’t go back, any more than she could change what would happen. And Auden deserved to know, had to know. Now, before it was too late.

  “I just got out of the hospital two days ago. The bruises and puncture marks are from the intravenous catheters.”

  Hospital. The word clamored in Auden’s brain—a frightening word under any circumstances. But it wasn’t just the ominous word that struck terror to her heart—it was all the things she had seen but had never put together, now suddenly coalesced into a single horrifying picture. She saw the trickle of blood on Hays’s face, saw her collapse at the hotel, saw her pale and weak and exhausted. Auden’s first instinct was to banish the images, obliterate the words. But she couldn’t. Because she was lying in Hays’s arms, and Hays’s heart was beating so rapidly beneath her cheek.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I have a...condition.” Hays wasn’t sure she could go through with this. Auden was trembling. “Auden—”

  “Tell me.” Auden pushed herself up on the bed, Hays’s arm still around her shoulders. She looked into Hays’s eyes, saw her anguish. “Oh, sweetheart.” She caressed her cheek. “Tell me.”

  “It’s called myelodysplastic syndrome.”

  “What is that? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Not many people have. It’s rare.” Hays laughed hollowly. “Before eight months ago, I’d never heard of it either—it’s a blood thing.”

  “How serious is it?” Auden was having a hard time getting her breath. I will not scream. I will hear this.

  Hays looked away. Auden drew her face back with a hand on her jaw. “Hays?”

  “Most people eventually die.”

  Auden gasped; she couldn’t help it. “Oh my God.”

  “Auden, I’m sorry. I should have told you before last night.” Hays tried to move away. “I just wanted you so mu—”

  “Most people. You said most people.” Auden felt the room tilt and realized she wasn’t breathing. She forced herself to take a slow breath. “So there’s...treatment?”

  “After a fashion. I get blood transfusions when I become too anemic, like last week. Antibiotics—other drugs to build up my immune system.” Hays ran a hand through her hair, uncertain whether to continue. Auden was so pale, her eyes wide, tormented. “Jesus, this is wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this to you.” She broke Auden’s hold, pushed back the covers, and swung her legs to the floor. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have slept with you last night. I have to go.”

  “Don’t you even try,” Auden said sharply, grabbing Hays’s hand. “Do you think I’ll just let you walk away?” She sat up, wrapped her arms around Hays, and pressed her chest to Hays’s back. She nestled her face against the side of Hays’s neck, her lips close to Hays’s ear. Tenderly, she asked, “How can you imagine I’d let you go after last night?”

  “You have to,” Hays said quietly. “There’s no future with me.”

  “I’m not going to debate that with you,” Auden said simply. “I just want you to tell me what this is all about.”

  Hays turned her head, met Auden’s gaze. “It’s a problem with the bone marrow. I don’t make blood cells, or the ones I make aren’t normal. That leads to the recurrent anemia and infections. Eventually, the bone marrow will quit working altogether, or it will start making malignant cells, or I’ll get an infection the antibiotics can’t cure. No matter what, the bottom line is—I die.”

  “How long can you live with this?” Auden felt numb and was glad for it. It enabled her to ask the questions she needed to ask.

  “Months. A few years, with luck.” Hays looked away.

  Auden closed her eyes. To her horror, she felt tears coursing down her cheeks, but she didn’t think she could stop them. She wasn’t crying for herself; she was crying for how alone and frightened she imagined Hays must feel.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” Hays whispered.

  Auden pulled Hays back onto the bed, into her arms, and drew the covers around them. “You haven’t hurt me. I...I’m all right.”

  Wearily, Hays rested her head on Auden’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Stop saying that.” Auden stroked her hair. “For God’s sake, it’s not your fault.”

  “I shouldn’t have slept with you.”

  “And stop saying that, too!” Auden’s tone was sharp. “Last night was beautiful, and it always will be. Don’t you ever think differently.”

  Despite herself, Hays grinned. “You are a most remarkable woman.”

  Auden threaded her hands in Hays’s hair and pulled her head up. “You need to call Alana and tell her you’ll be late.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you aren’t going anywhere until I have the whole story. And I don’t intend to let go of you anytime soon.” She couldn’t bear the thought of letting Hays out of her arms. She needed to hold her, to feel her body, warm and solid. Alive and so very precious.

  “Auden,” Hays said tenderly, “you can’t change this just because you want to. I know. I’ve tried.”

  “So what was your plan, Hays? Just to say goodbye?”

  “I didn’t have a plan. I shouldn’t have come here, but I couldn’t help myself. I haven’t been able to stay away from you.” She moved far enough away so that she could look into Auden’s eyes. “You pretty much took me by storm.”

  “Sweet talker,” Auden murmured. With one arm still firmly around Hays’s waist, she leaned over and fumbled for the phone. “Here. Make the call.”

  “Auden Frost.”

  “I love your official ‘I’m at work’ phone voice,” Gayle said. “Did you page me a few minutes ago?”

  “Yes,” Auden said, pushing aside the reports she hadn’t really been reading. “I’m sorry. Are you busy?”

  “Nope. Just got off call. I’m heading home soon. Boy, have I got news—”

  “Are you too tired to meet me somewhere?”

  “I’m fine. It was quiet last night and I slept some. What’s wrong? You sound sorta weird.”

  “I’m okay.” Auden felt tears threatening again. God damn it. This has got to stop. If Hays sees—

  “Uh, honey? I always know when you’re lying to me, remember?”

  Auden smiled wanly. “I just need to see you.”

  “Where and when?”

  “Can you meet me at the deli at 19th and Sansom?”

  “Sure. Forty minutes?”

  “I’ll get us a booth.” When she replaced the receiver, Auden looked at the work piled on her desk. She’d been in the office for an hour and had accomplished exactly nothing. Fleetingly, she wondered how Hays had managed to run a company and write amazing fiction at an astounding rate while dealing with the horror of having her life suddenly derailed. Resolutely, Auden picked up the completed manuscript she had just printed out and reached for a pencil. If Hays could work despite all the stress, she couldn’t do less.

  Half an hour later, she was surprised to find that she’d actually gotten a few pages edited. When she stepped out into the hall, she automatically glanced toward Hays’s office. She wanted to see her. Just to see her. She’s working, Auden, like you’re supposed to be.

  Turning away from that open door was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

  Ten minutes later, Auden sat with a cup of coffee in a back booth at R&W deli and prayed that Gayle wouldn’t be late. She was so desperately lonely, she didn’t think she could stand it.

  The previous night with Hays had been the single most expansive moment of her
life. Entire worlds had opened for her, emotionally and physically. Hopes and dreams had sprung from the carefully guarded recesses of her unconscious to flower under the gentle hands of a tender lover. She had learned things about herself she’d never imagined, awakened to passions she’d never before conceived. Hays had brought her pleasure beyond description, but it was her own consuming need to pleasure in return that had astounded her. She wanted to touch Hays everywhere, again and again. She wanted to explore her, caress her, inflame her. She wanted to feel Hays’s body convulse beneath her hands and watch her face dissolve into orgasm. She wanted her. She wanted her.

  “Auden?”

  Auden raised stricken eyes to her best friend and could only nod.

  “Jesus, honey, what is it?” Gayle slid into the booth across from Auden and took her hand. “Your hands are freezing. Are you sick?”

  “No.” Her voice was a harsh rasp. Auden cleared her throat as she drew her hand away, fearing that the sympathy would make her cry. “I’m okay. You want coffee? Something to eat?”

  The waitress approached, and Gayle ordered her standard deli fare without taking her worried eyes off Auden. “Reuben and fries, extra Russian. Large Coke. Thanks.”

  “I don’t know how you stay so thin.” Auden tried to smile as she said what she always said when they ate out together.

  “Genetics,” Gayle replied, just as she always did. “What the hell is going on? You’re scaring the bejesus out of me.”

  “I want to talk to you about myelodysplastic syndrome.” She’d been saying it over and over in her mind all morning, and it came out surprisingly easily. She didn’t even want to scream this time.

  Gayle drew a sharp breath and scrutinized Auden’s face. “What happened?”

  “You know about it, don’t you?”

  “Some. I’m a surgeon, not a hematologist.” Gayle answered carefully, trying to judge the direction of the conversation. “Auden, you have to help me out here. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “You know about Hays, don’t you?”