Heart hammering in her chest, Deirdre pushed herself against the truck door, as far away from him as she could get. “I have a sixteen-year-old daughter waiting for me at home, doing God knows what with Romeo.” She battled to keep her voice from shaking. “If I expect her to show self-control, don’t you think I ought to show a little myself?”
“Damn it, I—”
“It’s not about you, Stone. I mean, my saying no. I’m sure you’re not used to rejection, but…well, maybe that redhead who convinced you to take my case will be happy with just sex.”
“I think there’s a law against that. The redhead is my dog. Deirdre, listen—”
“No, you just shut up and drive. I need to get home.”
Home…away from feelings she couldn’t have, fantasies she couldn’t fulfill, risks she couldn’t take. Where she could forget the power of a man’s hands and the damage they could do. Where she could bury all the wanting in her that she’d thought was dead.
Stone’s jaw set, hard, a tiny cut from her teeth on his lip. He threw the car into gear. At least there was no way Stone would ever want to kiss her again, Deirdre thought, trying to be glad.
She’d made sure of that.
CHAPTER 9
DAMNED IF HE’D LET HER SEE HIM touch the place where she’d bit him, Stone thought, even though his lip throbbed and his pride stung and some other emotion he didn’t dare name made him feel hollowed-out inside. And as he swung his truck along the road leading from small-town Whitewater to Jubilee Point, he wondered what the hell had gone wrong.
He sneaked a look at Deirdre, sitting so still, so silent a mere foot away, yet as walled off from him as if she’d laid down brick and mortar. Maybe he should have expected that. He already knew her well enough to figure she’d try her damnedest to shut down emotionally in a crisis, not let anyone see how badly recent events had shaken her.
The interview with Norma Davenport had been hell for Deirdre; but then, Stone had known it would be. Hearing about your mother’s affair wouldn’t be labeled fun on anyone’s list, and in the past few hours Deirdre McDaniel had suffered enough shock for anyone.
Hadn’t he warned her not to come along? But even if he admitted that hearing the gory details about her parents’ rocky marriage might have been a necessary evil where Deirdre McDaniel was concerned, it was what happened afterward that had made him do the unforgivable. He’d crossed the line.
Hell, he’d told her things he hadn’t even told his ex-wife. Let Deirdre get under his skin far deeper than he’d ever have believed any woman could. Deirdre, with her flashing eyes, her inner strength, that haunting touch of sorrow that crept past her guard sometimes, leaving her even more beautiful than before.
Watching Deirdre with Trula had shifted everything he knew about the McDaniel woman again, like shifting the colors of a kaleidoscope, leaving her even more intriguing than before. Deirdre accepting Trula with such open delight had astonished Stone, got around all his hard edges. Deirdre McDaniel seeing past the godawful paint on Trula’s house and Trula’s face, past the outlandishness Trula used to say “screw the world”—who would’ve thought it? Or maybe he should have known the two women would connect. Deirdre had defied convention herself until six long years ago.
Deirdre genuinely envied him his eccentric grandmother, the wistfulness shining in those incredible blue eyes making part of Stone wish he could draw her in…into the pink house filled with Twinkies and photographs so embarrassing they made him want to hide. Into Trula’s world of age-awkward dance steps that had once been flashy and sharp, into hugs and laughter and people who loved you so much they’d scheme just to get you through the door.
Oh, Deirdre had teased him plenty…hell, a saint couldn’t have resisted after Trula called him that hideous nickname of hers. And yet…Deirdre had cared, really cared about the old woman.
Cared about him enough to ask…about who he’d been, how he’d grown, what had made him become the man he was.
The bastard he was. Stone glanced over at her, remembering her mouth under his, her sweet lips parting, letting him in, the taste of her driving him wild as he swept into her with his tongue. She’d been as hungry for it as he was those first soul-stealing moments. He could feel her wanting…
And he was arrogant enough to admit he was a damn fine kisser. She should have been as mindless as he was when he pulled her against him.
What the hell had gone wrong? Whatever it was, he was going to get it straight before he left March Winds. Once Deirdre saw that Drew Lawson wasn’t having his way with Emma in broad daylight in the gazebo with the guests at the B&B giving them pointers, she’d settle down enough to talk.
She’d have to, Stone told himself. He wasn’t going anywhere until he got to the bottom of this.
Stone pulled into the driveway of March Winds, parked under the chestnut tree. Deirdre got out, closed the door. Hell, she didn’t even say goodbye.
But that was fine, Stone figured. He wasn’t leaving anyway. Deirdre hugged herself as she hurried around the side of the house. This time Stone was the one who followed. The scent of late-blooming roses wafted around Stone, and he remembered the last time he’d been here, the garden still wildly overgrown, the restorations to the Civil War–era mansion unfinished, Deirdre’s future with her daughter still hanging in the balance.
She’d been singing in clubs, Deirdre had said. Chasing dreams on stages of her own. What had it cost her to turn her back on all that? The passion that had consumed her so completely that she’d even considered giving up the child she obviously loved more than life? Where had Deirdre McDaniel put that woman when she’d walked off the stage the last time?
Stone had grown up around dancers, musicians, performers of all kinds. It was passion that drove them, a thirst that made them dive deep into life. What had made Deirdre pull herself out of those creative waters and shut away not only the passion in her music, but in her life?
My mom’s real picky about guys, Emma had said the day she’d lured him to the diner. Had there been any men around since Deirdre had come home? Stone ran his tongue over his sore lip. If biting any man who tried to kiss her was her evasion technique, it was no wonder anybody with a Y chromosome had run the other way.
Unfortunately, curiosity was Stone’s fatal flaw. He damned well needed to know what was going on inside the woman’s head.
Stone had almost caught up with Deirdre when he saw her slam to a halt. She was angled so he could see enough of her face to register it had turned white. Stone followed her horrified gaze to the gazebo with its lacing of green vines and the teenagers inside it.
Whoa, baby! Stone thought. Mom wasn’t the only one who’d gotten the daylights kissed out of her!
Emma McDaniel reclined across one of the benches, one hand, palm up, draped above her head, while Drew lay partly across her body, his mouth exploring hers, one hand in Emma’s hair, the other skimming over her hip. Both teenagers seeming so desperate for each other, as if they were trying to squeeze a lifetime’s worth of lovemaking into these few moments.
In a split second Deirdre’s horrified freeze shattered. She stormed toward the kids. “Emma!”
The kids leapt apart, Emma struggling upright, flushed with surprise and undeniable guilt. Yeah, the kid had been into that kiss big-time. Like her mother had been at first…
“Mom!” Emma pressed her fingers to her reddened lips.
“Mrs. McDaniel,” Drew stammered. The kid looked scared to death. Stone couldn’t blame him, considering the expression on Deirdre’s face. “We were rehearsing…” Drew stammered. “I couldn’t get it right.”
Deirdre mounted the gazebo steps like a fury. “I thought learning the lines was your problem. It’s pretty hard to speak in Elizabethan dialogue when you have your tongue in my daughter’s mouth.”
Emma went bright red. “Mom, he didn’t—”
“I think you’ve rehearsed enough,” Deirdre said briskly. “Drew, it’s time for you to leave.”
“Mom, we weren’t doing anything wrong. It was the wedding night scene…we just couldn’t make it look real.” Emma’s gaze lit on Stone, and she blushed even deeper. The poor kid. Her utter humiliation wasn’t bad enough without a virtual stranger watching. But cutting out on the kid now would only make things worse.
“Hi, Emma,” Stone said with a forced smile. “Hey…Drew, isn’t it? We met at the diner.”
The boy straightened his shirt. “Yeah, I mean…yeah, we were talking about the play.”
Time to lighten things up, Stone figured. “Well, from what I’ve seen, you’ve got that whole reality kink worked out. Just look at Emma’s mom’s face.” Stone forced himself to chuckle.
“This isn’t funny, Stone,” Deirdre said between gritted teeth.
“Maybe not on your end,” Stone observed. “Finding your kid in an, er, compromising position has to be a real jolt—even if it is just acting.”
Deirdre glared at him in patent disbelief. Not that he could blame her. It looked like Emma had her mom’s talent for sending the male of the species into spontaneous combustion.
“Maybe you guys should take a break,” Stone pushed on hastily. “My grandmother was in theater most of her life and she always said overrehearsing a performance was every bit as bad as not rehearsing enough.” Stone pulled a ten out of his back pocket. “Why don’t you two go grab some ice cream or something? We could all use some cooling off.”
“Emma’s not going anywhere but up to her room.” Deirdre turned to her daughter. “You and I need to talk.”
Drew’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. Stone had to admire him for not racing out of there as fast as his Nikes could carry him. “Mrs. McDaniel, nothing happened that—well, that wasn’t in the play,” Drew tried to reason.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Just say your goodbyes and let’s get back to the real world.” Deirdre stepped back giving the kids a modicum of privacy. Stone had to give her that. What Deirdre really looked like was the witch ready to build Rapunzel’s tower a few miles higher.
“Better rein it in a few notches,” Stone murmured in Deirdre’s ear. “You’re making a big mistake.”
She drove her elbow back, but he was too quick for her, the blow just grazing his ribs.
“Emma,” Drew said, looking miserable. “I guess I’ll see you at school. And we’re still on for Friday?”
Emma managed a smile. “I can’t wait.”
Deirdre was right about one thing. This particular Romeo and Juliet had moved beyond acting. Emma McDaniel was knee-deep in puppy love. Stone felt a tug in his midsection, remembering the rush of feelings, that awakening of sexuality, feeling your body shift from a family station wagon to a Maserati, even though you didn’t have the skills to drive it.
And as if the thrill wasn’t addictive enough, there was the tunnel vision of youth, believing pure infatuation was really the happily-ever-after kind of love. Adolescence. What a hell of a ride it was.
Drew started to offer his hand to Deirdre, then thought better of it. Stone shook the kid’s hand instead. “See you,” Stone said.
The second Drew was out of sight Emma wheeled on Deirdre and glared from her mother to Stone and back. “Mom, how could you?” Emma demanded, her cheeks hot spots of color.
“Emma, how could you? This is a public place, with paying guests and you’re—you’re all over some boy—”
“We weren’t all over each other,” Emma asserted, looking as stubborn as her mom. “We were rehearsing the scene.”
“Well, if you play it that way at school, your drama teacher’s going to have to give the performance an R rating.”
“More like PG-13,” Stone said, trying to get one of them to crack—to see how off the charts they were getting. But he wasn’t sure either McDaniel woman even heard him.
“Miss Wittich is the one who told us to try the scene out when we were alone. It felt so weird with other people watching I couldn’t concentrate! But I guess Drew and I should’ve stayed in the auditorium with the whole cheerleading squad glaring because they hate me! It would have been better than having my mother sneak up on us and start going crazy over nothing.”
“I didn’t sneak up on you! And this certainly isn’t ‘nothing,’ Emmaline Kate! I trusted you, and—”
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t even listen to me, didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life! I’ll be lucky if he ever wants to be seen with me again!”
“Highly dramatic. But hard to pull off since he’s playing opposite you in the performance.”
“He’s doing a lot more than that!” Emma exclaimed, defiant. “He’s taking me on a date.”
“A what?”
“A date, Mother. You know, like all the other girls my age go on. Where a guy you like takes you to dinner and a movie and—”
Was that real fear Stone detected in Deirdre’s face?
“You said you thought dating was stupid,” Deirdre said. “Boys would just get in the way of your acting.”
Emma raised her chin and glowered. “Maybe I’ve changed my mind.”
Stone saw Deirdre hesitate, as if suddenly realizing she’d crossed the line, lost control. What was the deal? Deirdre looked downright sick. If possible, Emma looked even worse. The kid was asking to go on a simple date. She wasn’t asking for an X-rated negligee and the latest form of birth control.
Deirdre sucked in a deep breath. “Emma, honey, I’m sorry if you think I’ve overreacted—”
“If I think it?”
“I just…don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you blew my whole family apart! You’re the one hurting me. And everybody else I love! Uncle Cade and Aunt Finn. And the Captain…” Emma’s voice broke. “My family’s falling apart because of you, and now you go postal at me over one lousy little kiss?”
Stone could feel Deirdre struggle to keep her voice low. But pain and fear throbbed just under the surface. “It’s not the kiss I’m worried about,” Deirdre said. “It’s…God, Emma. I just want to keep you from making a mistake. Screwing up your life the way I did.”
“You mean by having me?”
Deirdre flinched as if Emma had slapped her. Hell, a slap would’ve been more merciful than having to watch the kid’s face contort in anguish, see Emma’s tears fall free.
“Oh, baby—” Deirdre reached for her, shattered. But Emma yanked away.
“Don’t ‘Oh, baby’ me. I’m the mistake you’re talking about, aren’t I, Mom? I’m the reason you’re so scared I’ll start sleeping around.”
“Emma, don’t twist this around on me. I only—”
“It was just a kiss, Mom. You don’t have to worry. I’m nothing like you.” Emma spun away, ran not toward March Winds, but in the other direction, across the garden to the cabin Stone knew lay beyond the picket fence.
To her uncle, Cade McDaniel, and his wife. Stone’s heart ached for Deirdre. He’d heard the insecurity in Deirdre’s voice when she’d talked about the time they’d been apart, knew how much she worried that somehow she’d scarred her little girl.
How much did it hurt Deirdre to stand there, watching Emma’s flight to the cabin where her daughter had spent those nine months without her?
Deirdre sank down onto the gazebo bench, buried her face in her hands. For a moment Stone thought about getting the hell out of Dodge. There wasn’t a man alive who liked emotional scenes. And Deirdre sure wouldn’t be thrilled he’d hung around to see this little gem between her and her daughter. And yet, Emma would have that nice Finn O’Grady’s shoulder to cry on. With the strain in the family, the anger over Deirdre’s insistence on searching for Jimmy Rivermont, who would be around to comfort Deirdre?
Oh, yeah, Stone, a voice mocked him. You’re the next fucking Oprah—
He hesitated for a moment, then sat down across from Deirdre, his knees spaced apart, his elbows resting on them as he stared at his loosely clas
ped hands. “That was pretty spectacular,” Stone ventured after a moment.
“Why are you still here?” Deirdre’s voice shook but, damn, the woman still had a mean glare.
“I suppose telling you that you handled that all wrong would be a bad idea.”
“Not if you have a death wish.”
Stone shrugged. “Well, wouldn’t be the first time someone’s accused me of that. Don’t you think it seems pretty harsh to come down on them so hard when just a few hours ago you and I were doing the same thing? Uh, at least until you bit me.”
Deirdre’s eyes flooded with a mixture of confusion and regret. “Did Emma look like she was going to come to her senses? I don’t think so.”
“So that’s what happened. You came to your senses. Because kissing me was so terrible?”
“Damn it, Stone, I have standards—”
“And kissing pond scum like me is below them, huh? Even if you were the one who hired me.”
“When I did, I didn’t know kissing the client was part of the contract.”
With you I’d consider making it one, if you could learn not to draw blood. Put those teeth of yours to more pleasurable use….
Hell, he couldn’t say that to her. At least, not right now with her knotting everything up, making him sound unethical somehow. Hell, it was unethical to get sexually involved with a client. He’d sure never kissed one before. He’d just recorded images of other people lit up with passions so strong they risked everything…and often lost it.
Stone, get your mind out of your own bed and get back to the real crisis—an innocent kid who’s just been blasted.
Stone searched for the right words, wondered if anyone could find them. “Listen, I know you love your daughter. And for whatever reason, you’re afraid for her. Maybe…well, from what Emma said because you…”
“Because I was an unwed mother? Seventeen and pregnant to the gills? Oh, yeah, that was big fun. Walking through the halls with my belly like a basketball while all the kids said what a slut I was. That’s just the kind of party I want to set up for my daughter.”