Loving by Danielle Steel Read Free Book Online

this time it was Bettina who smiled. She could still remember the first time he had done that for her, when she had come to the opera with him and her father more than ten years before. She had been wearing a burgundy-colored coat with a little velvet collar, and a hat to match, white gloves, and Mary Jane shoes. The opera had been Der Rosenkavalier, and she had been horrified to see a woman dressed as a man. Ivo had explained it all to her, but she had still been greatiy chagrined. Suddenly, as she thought of it, she found herself laughing, while she slipped out of her dark-blue velvet evening coat and turned once again to face Ivo's eyes. "And may I ask what's so funny?" He looked warm and already amused.
    "I was thinking of that first time I came here with you. Remember the woman 'trying to fake that she was a man?" And suddenly at the memory Ivo was laughing with her, and then as the memory faded she saw something very different in his eyes. He was looking at the dress she was wearing, and as he did so the night of Der Rosenkavalier seemed to die in his mind. The dress that she had worn beneath the midnight-blue evening coat was of the same deep, deep blue, but it seemed to float about her in a cloud of chiffon; the long full sleeves cast a kind of dreamlike spell about her arms, and the tiny waist exploded into billows of soft flowing fabric that fell to her feet. She looked infinitely delicate and startlingly beautiful as she stood before him, her eyes as bright as the sapphires and diamonds in her ears. "Don't you like the dress?" She looked up at him innocently in barely concealed disappointment, and suddenly the laughter came back to his eyes as he reached out both arms. How young she still was in some ways. It always surprised him. It was difficult to understand how she had maintained a core of innocence beneath such a knowing veneer, and in spite of her constant exposure to men who couldn't possibly have escaped the kind of thoughts he was having now.
    "I love the dress, darling. It's beautiful. I was just ... a little taken aback."
    "Were you?" She twinkled at him. "And think, you haven't even seen the half." And with that she pivoted neatly on one heel to turn her back to him, and in sharp contrast to the long sleeves, high neck, and full skirt, the back of the dress was cut away, and all that Ivo seemed to see dancing before him was the most devastatingly perfect expanse of creamy flesh.
    "Good God, Bettina, that's not decent."
    "Of course it is, don't be stupid. Let's go sit down. The music is starting."
    Ivo sighed to himself as he sat there. He wasn't sure which image of her he should be addressing, which he should be holding to in his mind. The child he remembered or the woman sitting there. There were several things he could offer the child. He could make room for her in his home. But as a woman, the problem was a good deal more complicated.... What then? A job at the paper? An evening at the opera, as her friend? He could help her find an apartment ... but then what? How would she pay? The problem was truly intolerable. When the first act came to an end, he realized how little of it he had heard.
    "Ivo, isn't it marvelous?" Her eyes were still dreamy as the curtain fell.
    "Yes, it's lovely." But he wasn't thinking of the opera, only of her. "Would you like something from the bar?" The others were already standing and forming a line at the exits. A trip to the bar was a must for all serious operagoers, not so much for what they drank, but whom they saw. But Ivo saw that she seemed to hesitate. "Would you rather stay here?" Gratefully she nodded, and they both sat back down.
    "Do you mind terribly?" She was instantly apologetic, but Ivo waved a nonchalant hand.
    "Of course not. Don't be silly. Would you like me to bring you something here?" But she only shook her head again and laughed.
    "You're going to have me as spoiled as I had my father, Ivo. Watch out! It becomes damn hard to live with." They spoke of