by Ellen Dugan
“There’s my hot contractor,” I gasped when he finally let me up for air. “You’ve been so gracious and classy all evening that I wondered if I’d still find my Duncan in there under that tux.”
He growled a little and pressed his hips against mine. “I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you all night.”
“Really?” I ran my hand down the lapel of his jacket. “Because I’ve been wanting to get my hands under this Prince Charming style suit for hours.”
“Is that right?” His voice was husky.
I tugged his tie open and unbuttoned his vest, watching as he struggled for control. Oh my, I thought. This was going to be fun. “Yeah, you’ve been such a perfect gentleman that it’s been making me a little crazy.” I started on the buttons of his shirt and he drew in a ragged breath. “Duncan?” I whispered.
“Yeah?” he managed.
“Take me to your room, and don’t be a gentleman.”
He stared down at me for a few seconds, and then he grabbed my arm and hauled me off with him. “Come with me,” he ordered.
Turned on even more by the urgent tone in his voice, I followed happily. We traveled further down a darkened corridor, and I started to wonder exactly where we were going. “This isn’t the way to your room,” I whispered.
“We’re not going to make it.”
I shuddered. “We’re not?”
He opened a set of doors, yanking me inside and I realized that we were in some sort of conservatory. The warmth of the air, the sound of running water, and the smell of soil and growing plants bombarded my senses. I caught the gleam on the glass from the full moon that played peek-a-boo in the clouds overhead.
Duncan tugged me deeper into the huge room, and I recognized the trickle and splash of a fountain. We went down a few steps and he swooped in and kissed me hard enough that it bent me back over his arm.
One moment it was completely dark, and the next moonlight filtered down from the glass ceiling. Caught up in the magick of the atmosphere, I kissed him back every bit as hard as he was kissing me. His hands were everywhere as he tugged me to sit on a padded chaise lounge. I sank to the cushion, dropping my bag, mask, and shoes softly on the stone floor. I managed to get his shirt unbuttoned the rest of the way, before he turned me in his arms and slowly eased down the zipper at the back of my dress. He’d only begun to kiss the nape of my neck when an unexpected sound had me jumping. I froze and listened, intently.
Duncan stopped too, and pressed his lips to my shoulder. “We’re not alone,” he whispered in my ear. “Damn it,” he groaned softly in frustration.
His warm breath on my bare skin had me shivering, even as a distinctive sound traveled across the conservatory: the sound of lovers wrapped up in each other. A masculine groan was followed by a feminine gasp of pleasure.
“Who else would be here?” I whispered back to him. Then it hit me. It was probably Julian. It was his home too, after all.
Duncan held a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. I nodded my head in agreement. He eased the zipper at the back of my dress closed, and picked up my shoes and bag from the ground. I felt around for my mask and accepted his hand. We rose to our feet and I followed Duncan’s lead. We stealthily made our way around a grouping of padded chairs and a café table. Somehow, I managed not to bump into anything as we traveled farther away from the couple, and out of the conservatory.
My suspicions were confirmed when I caught Julian’s voice. Pitched low, his passionate demand of his lover was clearly heard over the fountain’s splashing. A break in all the plants allowed for a glimpse of Julian and his lover. He stood behind the woman, pushing her sparkly dress down her arms. His lover’s head was tipped back as Julian kissed the nape of her neck and shoulders, and the woman’s dress rustled softly to the floor.
The clouds suddenly parted and moonlight illuminated the conservatory. The couple across the room went from shadowy tones of black and white, to bright colors. I saw that the woman was wearing a white and gold sparkling mask. Her hair was wild, curly, and a bright strawberry blonde.
Holly. I sucked in a sharp breath. It felt like I’d been hit in the solar plexus. Holly and Julian were lovers. She turned in his arms and kissed him. My vision of my cousin from earlier played out in front of me, and shocked, I looked away.
Duncan quickly led me from the conservatory. He pulled me out into the hall, and began to ease the doors closed.
“Oh god.” I chose a direction at random and began to walk as quickly as possible.
Duncan’s hand snagged my elbow. “You didn’t know they were lovers.” It was a statement, not a question.
I shook my head no.
“Come with me,” Duncan said taking my hand.
Stunned and unsure of how I felt about what we’d accidentally walked in on, I followed him blindly. In a few minutes we were safely in Duncan’s room and the door was locked behind us. He wordlessly set my things down on his dresser. I stood silently as I tried to process what I’d witnessed.
All of the sudden, Holly’s reaction to Julian’s sexy Halloween costume at work made sense. They were a couple, and she’d been struggling to mask her emotions and to keep their relationship a secret. “Well, now I understand why my cousin acted so nervous tonight.” I blew out a long breath.
He ran a hand down my back. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. “How long have you known that Holly and Julian were lovers?”
“For a while.” He slipped off the loosened tie and placed it on his dresser. “I saw them leaving the mansion one night.”
“How long ago was that?” I asked.
“In the spring.” He shrugged out of his jacket.
So they’d been together for at least six months. I blew out a breath. “I don’t know what to think.” My mind bounced around as I thought it over. “Holly is an adult. It’s honestly none of my business who she’s romantically involved with.
“You’re hurt by the secret though,” Duncan said, unbuckling his belt.
“I hate...” I was having a hard time following the conversation as Duncan slid the belt free of his slacks. “Secrets,” I managed to finish my sentence.
Duncan walked over to stand in front of me. His shirt and vest were open, framing his chest, and he smiled down in my face. “Are you okay?”
And just like that...nothing else mattered. I ran my hands over his chest appreciatively. “Well, hello Prince Charming.” I grinned up at him.
A faint blush stole across his cheeks at the compliment.
“Aw, you’re blushing!” I said and ran my hands around to his butt.
Duncan scowled. “I am not blushing.”
“Yes you are...it’s cute on you.” I slid my hands up and took a firm hold of the front of his shirt. I tugged him down to me and planted a kiss on his mouth.
Duncan raised his head. “Do you still want to stay the night? If you’d rather not—”
This wasn’t the time for discussing my cousin and her affairs. I had a gorgeous, half dressed man in my arms...and I knew just what to do with him. “A gentleman would shut up and kiss me,” I suggested.
His mouth hovered right above mine. “Did you want me to be a gentleman?”
“Hell no,” I said, and pulled him down to the bed.
***
In the morning I found myself being walked to my car by Duncan. It was early, the sun had barely broken the horizon and clouds were rolling in. We planned to meet at the bungalow and then to go to the manor together, as we’d been invited for lunch. After Thomas’ news we had decided to fill the family in on what we’d learned about Irene and her descendants, immediately. We lingered over a kiss goodbye, and I drove back to the bungalow, deciding to get a jog in while the weather held.
I dug out my black jogging pants, a purple top and a fleece jacket. I secured my hair into a ponytail, laced up my shoes and was jogging down towards the riverfront within fifteen minutes of returning home. There
was a nip to the air this morning, and most of the leaves had fallen from the trees. The wheel of the year was rolling towards winter, and I breathed in the November air, cranked up the volume on my iPod, and enjoyed the morning.
I was on the trip home when I suddenly remembered a dream that I’d had the night before...
Satin multi-colored ribbons fluttered in the breeze. They were tied to the back of a white wooden chair. The rainbow of colors shimmered prettily in pale pink, butter yellow, mint green, sky blue and lavender. The perspective of the dream shifted and I saw massive white tents. In the dream I walked forward across emerald green grass, and saw pretty white tables decorated with blue glass jars that held a variety of flowers in a happy mixture of sherbet colors.
I was so entranced by the recollection of the dream that I had slowed down. I pulled myself back to the present, shook off the images, and found that I was now jogging past the row of shops on Main Street. Out of the corner of my eye I caught movement and had to make a quick jump to the side.
“Sorry!” I said, almost colliding with Violet O’Connell.
“Aack!” Violet balanced the open box she was carrying and grabbed ahold of one of my arms. She teetered on her heels, but still managed to keep me from smacking into anything, or from spilling the box’s contents.
I made a grab for the other side of the box, and we spun around together and began to laugh.
“What are you doing at the shop this early?” I panted, and pulled my ear buds out.
“We have a wedding this morning.” Violet tossed her head, and her long blonde and purple ponytail flipped over her shoulder.
I checked the box. “I didn’t mess any of the flowers up, did I?”
Violet peered down. “No, all the boutonnieres and corsages are fine.”
I stepped back and bent over at the waist. “Sorry. Again.”
“It’s all good.” Violet walked past me and loaded the box into the floral van parked in front of the shop. “Why are you out and about? I’d have thought you’d be all cozied up with Duncan after last night.”
I stayed where I was for a moment and caught my breath. It wasn’t a secret that Duncan and I had been seeing each other, but her comment caught me off guard.Violet slid the door shut on the van and started back inside for her next load of flowers.
She held the shop door open. “Want to come in? I’ll get you some water.”
“Sure,” I said and ducked inside the flower shop. As usual it smelled incredible from the fresh roses, lilies and spicy mums.
Violet went over to the back wall, opened a small mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. “I’d toss it, but with your lack of coordination, you’d break something trying to catch it.” She very deliberately handed me the bottle.
“I’d be offended if that weren’t true.” I remembered to shut off my iPod and leaned against the brick wall of the shop, waiting for my breathing to even out.
Violet reached into her display cooler and pulled out two big fall arrangements. “Be right back,” she said, and carried those out the door.
I peeked into the box on the work station beside me. It held a bridal bouquet and a couple of smaller bridesmaids’ bouquets. “Wow,” I whispered in appreciation. The bouquets featured vibrant fall colors; reddish-orange roses, yellow button mums, pumpkin colored calla lilies, and greenery. The bride’s bouquet was larger, and was differentiated from the bridesmaids’ bouquets by a trio of large, English style roses in shades of ivory that were worked in along with the same roses, lilies and mums. Teal and orange satin ribbons dripped from all three of the bouquets.
“These are gorgeous,” I said as soon as Violet came back inside.
She reached for the bouquet box. “Thanks.”
“I really like all the bright colors. I never did understand why a bride would want all white flowers.”
Violet hefted the box. “Depends on the bride, and her color scheme. We did a black, white and gold wedding last week. The bridesmaids’ flowers were all white with gold metallic ribbon, and the bride’s bouquet was done in shades of peach and champagne colored roses. Everyone wore black, the bridesmaids, the groomsmen and the groom too. The only ‘color’ was the bride—she wore a nude-champagne colored gown, and it was stunning.”
“Huh.” I opened the water bottle. “I wouldn’t have though about that, but I can almost see it.”
“Trust me,” Violet said. “I did the flowers myself. They were amazing.” She went out again and loaded up the box. I heard her lock the van and she came back in the shop, closing the door behind her. She stood smiling at me, all professional in dark slacks, dress boots, a crisp white blouse and amethyst colored blazer—her purple hair not withstanding.
“So what’s the color scheme for this wedding?” I asked.
“Deep teal bridesmaid dresses, with orange flowers.” Violet said.
“That sounds sharp.”
“The bride wanted fall colors.”
“What color is the bride’s gown and the guys’ tuxes?” I tried to imagine it.
“Ivory bridal gown, and black tuxes.” Violet waited a beat. “Do you have weddings on the brain, girlfriend?”
“What?” I almost dropped the bottle of water. “No,” I tried to laugh, and it came out sounding all strangled.
“I’ve seen that dreamy look before.” Violet smirked.
I sipped at my water. “There’s nothing to see here. I think all of the fumes from painting those pumpkins gold for the masquerade has warped your brain.”
“I’ve never seen you as happy as you’ve been these past few months. Being in love agrees with you.” Violet’s soft words made an impact square in the middle of my chest.
I opened my mouth, and no words came out.
“And you just turned white as a ghost.” Violet marched over, and tugged me over to sit in a chair.
I sputtered. “I didn’t say I was in love.”
Violet knelt down in front of me. “Sweetie, you didn’t have to.”
“But I don’t want to be in love.” I heard myself say.
She patted my hand. “You keep telling yourself that.”
“I’m not sure when it even happened...”
“That sneaky bastard,” Violet said mildly.
I snorted out a laugh at her dry comment. “I’m in love with Duncan Quinn.” I swallowed past a huge lump in my throat. “Again.”
“And you’re probably the last one to know it.”
I met my friend’s eyes. “I’m scared,” I admitted.
“Scared because you are about to take a chance on him again, or frightened that you don’t have the courage to go after what you want, and to be happy?”
I scowled at her.
“Listen to me.” Violet took my hands. “Love makes fools of us all.”
“Are you quoting Shakespeare?”
Violet’s lips curved up into a sad smile. “Years ago, I was in love,” she told me. “It was stormy, intense and crazy. He was older than me, and we were polar opposites—and I was way too immature to handle the feelings that we had for each other.”
“Wow,” I managed.
“We’d have crazy fights, and the harder we fought...the more it only fueled the fire. I loved Matthew Bell so much that I remember thinking that if I didn’t have him in my life, I’d simply die. He was an obsession.”
I sat and listened to her. My friend had always projected this calm and confident air, but the desperate and emotionally needy person she was talking about was a stranger to me. “Violet, you’re a strong, confident woman, and nothing like that person you are describing,” I said, firmly.
“I fought hard to become a different woman,” Violet admitted. “But back then I was young and stupid, and he was my first love. I shared everything with Matthew, and trusted him implicitly. I went and got this huge tattoo of his name down my arm, and to my surprise it infuriated him.” She drew a finger down her right arm indicating where she’d had his name inked. “He didn’t think it was appr
opriate.”
“You have that colorful sleeve of floral tattoos on your arm now,” I said. “A cover up job?”
“Exactly,” Violet agreed.
“What happened? Why did you break up?”
“We’d broke up a lot back in those days. Together again, and then off. No more than a few weeks at a time, but the tattoo had infuriated him and that time we were apart for months. Eventually we reconciled, and things were better than they’d ever been. I was determined to be everything he ever wanted, and I went back to school to try and get my Bachelor’s degree.” Violet took a steadying breath. “Matthew had landed his first teaching job, and we had this tiny little apartment. We talked about getting married, finding a house in the ‘burbs with a picket fence and maybe having a couple of kids someday...” She cleared her throat. “Things were perfect, almost like a dream, and one day he came home and told me that while we’d been apart he’d gotten another woman pregnant.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing,” Violet said. “I got up and packed my bags. He asked me to stay, swore that he loved me. He still wanted to get married, and insisted that this didn’t change anything between us.”
“But of course it did.”
“It broke my heart. But I didn’t scream, I didn’t fight with him, or hex his cheating ass to the state line.”
“Please tell me that you seriously considered it,” I said.
Violet laughed. “Of course I considered it. I was so jealous that he’d slept with another woman while we’d been apart. But instead, I walked out that apartment door with my two suitcases and never looked back. I heard he married her a few months later. She was some little society type and her father managed to get him a position teaching out of state at a major university.”
“And now?” I asked her.
“I never saw him again. And you know what? Not a week goes by that I’m not making flowers for some bride and wondering...What if I would have stayed? What if I would have taken the chance, set my fear and pride aside, and stood by him through it all?”