“There was no Doug Johnson.”
“What do you mean ‘there was no Doug Johnson’?”
“I wanted you to kiss me, so I invented Doug Johnson and used him as an excuse. I wanted you to take me to the Christmas formal, so I used Doug’s name again. The only reason I dated boys was so that I’d know to act on a date with you, when you asked me.” She gave him a sideways smile, and Spence had an insane impulse to lean down and kiss it off her lips – an impulse that approached a compulsion when she shook her head at the memory of her infatuation and added softly, “It was you. It was always you. From the night I met you at the luau until a week after the dance, when you didn’t call to apologize or explain, it was only you.”
“Corey, there was another reason I forgot about the dance and went to Aspen. I’d expected my mother to come to Houston for Christmas, and I was looking forward to it more than I let anyone know. I’d been making excuses for her absence and lack of interst my whole life, and although it sounds absurd now, I actually thought that if she got to know me as an adult, then maybe we could have some sort of relationship. When she phoned at the last minute to say she’d decided to go to Paris instead, I ran out of excuses for her. I got drunk with some friends, none of whom had ‘normal families’, and we all decided to go to Aspen, where one of them had a house, and forget Christmas.”
“I understand,” Corey said. “You’d told me you were looking forward to her visit, but I’d already guessed she was more important to you than you wanted anyone to know. You were a hobby of mine, remember. There wasn’t much about you I didn’t know or try to find out.”
Flattered and touched, Spence braced his palm high on the tree trunk, longing to lean down and kiss her, but there was one more thing he needed to say. “I should have called you to explain, or at least apologize, but I let my grandmother convince me that I’d already done enough damage and that I should stay completely out of your life. She told me that you went to the dance with someone else – which she believed – and that I was not a fit companion for an innocent young girl – which she also believed. I already felt like a complete pervert for what I did to you that night by the pool, so her tirade hit me in a very vulnerable place.”
Corey saw his gaze drop to her lips and a little of her newfound serenity deserted her even before he said in a husky voice, “Now that we’ve finished the explanations, there’s only one thing left to do.”
“What’s that?” Corey asked warily.
“We have to kiss and make up. It’s traditional.”
Corey pressed further back against the tree trunk. “Why don’t we just shake hands, instead.”
He smiled solemnly and shook his head. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck not to honor the traditions of your host?”
The forgotten sweetness of the memory was nothing compared to what she felt as he laid his palm against her cheek and whispered, “A golden girl told me that one Christmas, a long time ago.” He bent his head and brushed a kiss slowly over her lips, and Corey managed to savor the moment without participating, but Spence wasn’t finished. “If you don’t kiss me back,” he coaxed, sliding his mouth over her cheek, “the tradition isn’t fulfilled. And that means very bad luck.” His tongue lazily traced the curve of her ear, spending shivers down her spine to her toes, and Corey smiled helplessly, tipping her head back a little as he traced a warm path down her neck. “Extremely bad luck,” he warned, retracing his path, and then the teasing was over. He cradled her face in his palms, his thumbs slowly caressing her cheeks, and Corey was mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes. “Have you any idea,” he said gruffly, “how much I hated Doug Johnson after that night?”
Corey tried to smile and felt the sudden, inexplicable sting of tears instead.
“Have you any idea,” he whispered as his mouth descended purposefully toward hers, “how long I’ve wanted to do this…”
Corey felt her defenses crumbling and tried to forestall him with humor. “I’m not completely sure I’m old enough.”
A sensual smile curved his lips, and she watched them form a single word: “Though,” he said, and curved her into his arms, capturing her lips in a kiss that was as rough and tender as his answer had been.
Corey told herself there was no danger in a kiss, no defeat in cooperating just a little, as she slid her hands up his hard chest and yielded to the coaxing insistence of his tongue. She was wrong. The instant she did, his arms tightened and his mouth opened over hers in a fierce, demanding kiss that assaulted her newfound serenity and made her clutch his broad shoulders for balance in a world that was beginning to spin. His tongue drove into her mouth, and with a silent cry of despair, Corey wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
She leaned into him and forced him to gentle the kiss by softly stroking his tongue with hers and felt the gasp of his breath as he drew her tighter to him, his arm angling over her hips to hold her pressed to his rigid thighs. She kissed him slowly, sliding her fingers over his jaw and around his nape, and he let her set the pace, his hand drifting in a slow caress over her spine and bottom, his mouth moving endlessly on hers, following her lead. And just when Corey was beginning to feel in complete control, he took it away. His fingers shoved into the hair at her nape, and he ground his lips into hers, pressing her back against the tree with his body, freeing his hands sto rush over her breasts, then slowly covering and caressing them until Corey thought she would die of the sweet torment and the longing for more.
Time ceased to exist, measured only in a series of endless, shattering kisses and arousing caresses that began slowly and built toward a crescendo; then they pulled apart. So they could begin all over again.
Corey heard herself moan when he tore his mouth from hers for the very last time. He buried his face in her neck, then he drew a long, labored breath and tightened his arms around her, holding her face against his heart.
She stayed there, her eyes closed tightly against the moment when her mind would take over and rage against the stupidity, the insanity of what she’d just done to herself, but it was already too late. Reality was setting in. She was clearly mentally ill! She had some sort of sick obsession with Spencer Addison. She had tossed away her adolescence on him, and now, all he had to do was say something sweet – and she fell into his arms like a lovesick idiot. She had never in her life felt as she had tonight except once… long ago on a summer night by the swimming pool. A tear dropped from her eye and raced down her cheek. She did not mean anything to him, and she never had…
“Corey,” he said in a roughened voice as he touched his lips to her hair. “Would you care ti explain to me why I seem to lose my mind the moment I touch you?”
Her heart did a somersault, her mind went into silent shock. For the second time tonight, she had an absurd impulse to laugh and cry at the same time. “We are both clearly insane,” she said, but overall, she felt much better than she had the moment before. She moved away from him, and he put his arm around her shoulders, walking with her back to the house.
Lost in her own thoughts, Corey scarcely noticed that he was walking her to her room until the’d turned down the hall and she saw the double doors of the Duchess Suite in front of her. She turned in front of them and looked up at him. This last half hour was the closest thing to a date they’d ever had, and she had an irreverent impulse to smile at him and say, “Thank you for a lovely evening.” Instead, she said, “Since we’ve already kissed good night, I guess there’s nothing else to do or say.”
He grinned at hre and braced his hand against the doorframe, relaxed and confident. A little too confident, she thought. “We could always do it again,” he suggested.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she lied.
“In that case, you could invite me in for a nightcap.”
“I think that’s an even worse idea,” she primly informed him.
“Liar,” he said with a grin, then he bent and gave her a hard swift kiss and opened the door. Corey walked
serenely into her room, closed the door, and collapsed against it, dazed by the last half hour she’d spent in his arms. Her gaze landed on the clock on the little secretary. It was almost midnight. They’d been outside for well over an hour.
Eleven
STANDING ON THE BACK LAWN, COREY WATCHED MIKE MacNeil and Kristin Nordstrom setting up some of the camera equipment for exterior shots of the work underway, but there was little the pair could do until tomorrow, when the flowers were in place on the bridal arches and the banquet tables beneath the white tent were decked out in “Foster Style”. At the moment, there was a small army of gardeners, carpenters, and florists bumping into the caterers, who were scheduled to serve a rehearsal dinner on the terrace tonight after the rehearsal itself was over.
To Corey’s trained eye, everything looked as if it was going very well. She saw Joy talking earnestly to one of the caterer’s staff, and whatever she was saying to the young man madi him smile at her and the rest of his companions guffaw. The caterers were a family operation, Corey knew, and besides being very good, obviously enjoyed working together. She saw Corey and waved, and Corey waved back, then she headed over to Mike and Kristin, who’d arrived that morning in a van. “How’s it going, Mike?”
“Everything’s under control. No problems.” He was five feet four inches tall, fifty pounds overweight, and he looked as if he were about to collapse on top of the heavy trunk he was dragging across the grass. Corey knew better than to offer to help. “How do you like your new location assistant?”
He looked over his shoulder at Kristin, who was effortlessly carrying an identical trunk. “Couldn’t you have found someone a little taller and a little more robust?” he asked wryly.
Since Corey had more than enough work to occupy her, she watched for a few minutes and then headed back to the house.
Back to Spencer.
She’d fallen asleep with her arms around her pillow, thinking of him, and today, she could think of little else. He wasn’t helping, either. This morning, he’d strolled into the little breakfast room where they’d dined last night, and in full view of Corey’s mother and grandmother and his astonished niece, he’d rumpled Corey’s hair and pressed a kiss on her cheek.
At noon, she saw him coming down a crowded hallway near his study with a sheaf of papers in his hand that he appeared to be engrossed in reading. Without looking up, he nodded to a houseguest and moved around three servants. As he passed Corey, seemingly without seeing her, he made a sharp turn and walked straight into her, backing her through an open doorway and straight into a closet, closing its door behind them. While she was still sputtering, he dropped the papers, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her senseless- “I’ve missed you,” he said just before he let her go. “And don’t make plans for dinner. We’re dining alone tonight on your balcony. My balcony overlooks the back lawn, which means we’d have as much privacy as we have in the halls.”
Corey knew she should object, but she didn’t want to. She was leaving on Sunday, which gave her only tonight and tomorrow night to see him. “Only if you promise to behave,” she said instead.
“Oh, I will-“ he agreed solemnly, then he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her until she was clinging to him, “-just like this.” He let her go with a familiar smack on her rump. “Now get out of here before I decide to keep you here and we end up suffocating. There’s no air in this damned closet.”
The entire time the’d kissed there’d been a parade of footsteps down the hall and Corey shook her head. “No, you go first and make certain the coast is clear.”
“Corey,” he said, “I can’t leave this closet right now. I’m in no state to greet houseguests, believe me.”
Embarrassed and pleased, she put her ear to the door, then stealthily reached for the handle when the coast seemed clear. “I ought to lock you in here,” she tossed over her shoulder.
“Try it and I’ll pound on the door and tell everyone you’ve stolen the silver.”
Corey was smiling at that memory when she saw Joy walking slowly and dejectedly toward a stand of trees on the perimeter of the lawn. She looked so miserable that Corey hesitated and then went after her. “Joy – is something wrong?” she said, coming up behind her.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” she said, hastily brushing her fingertips over her cheeks before she turned and gave Corey a watery smile.
“If you don’t want to tell my why you’re crying, then will you talk to your mother or someone else? You shouldn’t be upset like this on the day before your wedding. Richard will be here tonight. He won’t want to see you unhappy.”
“Richard’s very sensible, and he’ll say I’m being foolish. So will everyone.” She shrugged and started slowly to the house. “Let’s talk about something else. Tell me more about you and Uncle Spence.” She hesitated, and then said in a voice tinged with desperation, “Do you think you really loved him when you were my age?”
If the question had been asked in idle curiosty, Corey would have sidestepped it, but she had the feeling that Joy was turning to her for help and that anything other than the truth might somehow do a great disservice to her. “I want to answer you honestly, but it’s hard for me to look back at my feelings for him without also realizing how hopeless and one-sided they were, and then to discredit them because of it.”
“Would you have eloped with him?”
The question was so unexpected that Corey laughed and nodded. “Only if he’d asked me.”
“What if he hadn’t been from a wealthy family?”
“I only wanted him, nothing else would have mattered.”
“So you did love him?”
“I-“ Corey hesitated, looking back. “I believed in him. I admired and respected him. And I did it for all the right reasons, even then. I didn’t care that he was a football hero at college, or what kind of car he had. I wanted to make him happy, and he always seemed to enjoy being with me, so I truly believed I could.” With a rueful smile, she admitted, “I used to lie in bed at night, imagining that I was going to have his baby, and that he was asleep beside me with his arms around me, and that he was happy about the baby. It was one of my favorite fantasies, out of about ten thousand fantasies. If all those things add up to love, then yes, I did love him. And I’ll tell you a secret,” Corey finished wryly, “I have never felt that way about anyone else since.”
“Is that why you’ve never gotten married?”
“In a way, it is. On the one hand, I don’t want to risk feeling that way about anyone again – I was completely obsessed. On the other hand, I’d never settle for anything less if I were to marry someone.” They’d arrived at the house, and to Corey’s surprise, Joy gave her a hug. “Thank you,” she said fiercely.
Corey watched her walk back across the lawn toward the caterers, then she started slowly toward the dining room, where she was planning to spend the rest of the afternoon taking photographs, but she felt uneasy. She decided to talk to Spence about Joy. Something was wrong.
Twelve
TRYING NOT TO MAKE A SOUND, COREY REPOSITIONED AN antique candelabra on the dining room table. From the head of the table, out of range of the shot she was setting up, Spence said, “Don’t worry about making noise. Do what you need to do.”
He had brought his paperwork there so they could be together while she worked. Corey was afraid to admit to herself how much she loved his company and how wonderful it felt to have him pursuing her after all these years. “I don’t want to distract you.”
A lazy, intimate smile swept across his handsome face. “In that case, you’ll have to pack up and leave Newport.”
Corey knew exactly what he meant, but the sweetness of flirting with him, and even getting the upper hand, was too tempting to pass up. “Be patient. We’ll be out of here Sunday morning, and you’ll have this ramshackle old house all to yourself again.”
“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it,” he said calmly, refusing to participate in her game.
&
nbsp; That surprised her. Sometimes, she was positive they were indulging in a long-overdue flirtation, but just when she’d adjusted to that and tried to play by the rules, he ended the game and turned serious on her.
“Can you stay a few days longer?”
Corey hesitated, struggling to resist the temptation. “No, I can’t. I have assignments already booked for the next six months.”
She waited, half in hope, half in fear, that he’d urge her to stay longer and she would agree. He didn’t. Evidently he wasn’t that serious. Refusing to acknowledge that it hurt her, Corey turned her attention to safer matters and glanced at the papers spread out in front of him. “What are you working on?”
“I’m considering the pros and cons of a business deal; weighing all the alternatives, balancing the element of risk with the possibilities of gain; going over the research. The usual process of decision making.”
“It isn’t usual for me,” Corey admitted, crouching down and eyeing the effect of the flower arrangement with the candles and heirloom china. “If I went through all of that, I’d never be able to make any decision at all.” Satisfied, she walked over to the tripod and took the picture, then she adjusted for a slightly different angle that would catch the rays of the sun dancing off the crystal and snapped off two more shots.
Spence watched her, admiring her deft skill for a moment, then turning his attention to her other more alluring attributes. He studied the curve of her cheek, the generous softness of her mouth, and watched the sunlight dancing on her hair. She’d pulled the wavy mass up into a ponytail with tendrils at her ears, and it made her look about eighteen years old again. She was wearing white shorts and a T-shirt, and he indulged himself with a leisurely visual caress of her long slim legs and her full breasts while he imagined how she was going to feel in his arms in bed tonight.