“Help yourselves to drinks and nibbles,” Margaret said. “Mickey’s here somewhere and will want to meet Lucy. Oh and here’s Flynn.”
Freya turned slowly, the noises around her receding, blocked by the drumming in her ears as Flynn approached.
“Hi,” he said.
She watched his smile, the way his stunning eyes glistened, and longed to reach out and smooth back the thick lock of black hair falling onto his forehead just for the feel of it. And that mouth …
He laughed, throwing his head back, at something Lucy said, and Freya wanted to be the one making him do that. But shyness, the vulnerability of her feelings for him, wouldn’t allow her to be as relaxed with him as Lucy was. They were clearly enjoying each other’s company. Mickey came to join them. He kissed Freya warmly, and Lucy too when they were introduced.
“Let me get you both a drink,” Mickey said.
“Not for me. I’m driving.” Freya knew her face had reddened under Flynn’s watchful gaze.
“Well I’ll get you a soft drink,” he said. “Mickey can get Lucy’s.” And putting his hand on the small of her back, he led her toward the house.
“Really,” Freya protested, “don’t go to any trouble. I can do without.”
“No trouble at all.”
In the kitchen, Flynn opened the fridge. “Mango, apple, orange, guava, what would you like? Mom’s a juice freak.”
“Mango, please.” Freya smiled, wishing she hadn’t fiddled with the hair comb. Tendrils had fallen out, tickling her neck. She tried to tuck them back.
Flynn turned, glass in his hand, and put it down on the countertop. “Here let me.” Standing before her, he squeezed the clip open and her hair fell onto her shoulders. He picked up a tress, wound it slowly around his finger, and looked from it to her. She saw his eyes dilate, heard his breathing quicken. She started to speak, but he laid a finger across her parted lips. “Don’t,” he said softly.
The noise from outside had faded. Freya heard nothing but their combined breathing. Flynn bent his head—she wanted to step back but couldn’t—and as she felt the soft pressure of his mouth on hers, something inside her gave way. With a low moan she fell against him. They stumbled back into the fridge door. Her arms went around his neck, and his hands slid down, around her waist, pulling her tightly against him.
Freya was lost. His tongue searched eagerly and she responded passionately, pushing her body harder to him. His hands moved up her back. She felt them on the bare skin of her shoulders and neck and groaned softly.
Flynn drew back only slightly and looked into her eyes. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. “You’re driving me crazy.” And he pushed the neck of her shirt to one side, kissing along her shoulders, up her arched neck, before reclaiming her lips once more. This time he took his time, kissing her slowly and deeply. It was as though all the feelings that had been building up between them over the weeks had exploded into this one moment of blissful passion, and it was only the sudden sound of loud laughter from outside that brought them both to their senses.
Freya dropped her arms. Flynn stepped back and raked his hair back in place, staring at her. They were both shaking.
Freya pulled her hair up and wound it into a knot. Flynn handed her the comb.
“I must go find, Lucy,” she said.
“Freya?”
She turned, every fiber of her being throbbing, wanting to run back into his arms.
“I need to see you,” he said. “We have to talk.”
“Why, Flynn?” she whispered hoarsely. “What do you want from me?”
He walked toward her slowly, looked into her eyes. “I think you know very well what I want, and if you could be honest with yourself for one minute, I think it’s what you want too.”
Freya’s heart thudded. “And Rochelle?”
Flynn frowned. “What about Rochelle?”
At that moment Lucy and Margaret walked into the kitchen.
“Oh!” Margaret looked from her son to Freya. “I was about to get Lucy a glass of kiwi juice, but we can come back…”
“Mom!” Flynn edged toward the door. “Get Lucy her drink. I have to get going. See ya all.”
“Oh, hon! So soon.”
“Yeah. A couple of things at the office. Bye.”
“Well, what’s brought that on?” Margaret murmured, watching his receding back.
Lucy cast a glance at Freya but said nothing.
On the drive home later, Lucy did most of the talking. It took all Freya’s powers of concentration to drive properly. She was miles away, back in the kitchen with Flynn.
“Lovely family,” Lucy said. “Mickey’s an extraordinary guy. Quite adorable. He seems very fond of you, well, they all do. Margaret’s thrilled to have you working with her. You’re not saying much, hon.”
“Mm.” Freya swung the car into her driveway. “Yes, they’re a great family.”
She parked the car and they went into the house. In the lounge, Freya switched the lamps on, threw her keys on the table, and flopped onto the sofa.
“I am going to make us a cup of soothing Chamomile tea,” Lucy said, “then you and I are going to talk.”
Freya smiled. “You can’t make me.”
Lucy grinned. “Can too!”
While Lucy was in the kitchen, Freya went over every minute detail. Had she made the first move? Surely not.
But all she could clearly recall was the nearness, the heat of him, the need to be in his embrace, and her arms had been around his neck before she’d thought about it. “Oh, my!” she groaned.
“What?” Lucy had returned with two steaming cups of tea. She gave one to Freya. Oh my what? Come on now. There’s no denying there’s something between you and Flynn. Honest, Freya, the tension in that kitchen was electric, almost tangible, like a piece of twine stretched from him to you that I could twang!”
“So obvious?”
“Yeah. And I’m sure Margaret felt it too. The air practically buzzed.”
“Oh, Lucy.”
“Freya, honey, listen to me. From the start you were into this guy, right?”
“Yup.”
“And now, well, the chemistry an’ all is fizzing away. I know you too well. The lust thing has reared its head. He wants you, you’re holding back. For what?” Lucy sipped her tea.
Freya leaned back. “I want more than that with him, Luce. I want what my sister and Joe have.”
Lucy’s eyebrows shot up. “Marriage? Are you kidding me?”
Freya yanked the clip from her hair. “No. I’m dead serious.”
“Hm. Look, I can see you’re in a fix over him. He clearly fancies you like mad, so wouldn’t you…um, consider a quick fling, you know, get him out of your system? I mean you were worried he only wanted you for the land, well, he’s got that now and he still wants you!”
Freya considered this. “Maybe. But you know, a man like Flynn who can have any woman he wants…don’t pull a face, he can with those looks. Well, I just don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost. I’d hate that. And then there’s Rochelle.”
“Ah! The Girl Friday. Do you think there’s something going on?”
“I really don’t know. But I hope not!”
“You’re in love with him!” Lucy said quietly.
Freya looked at her. “I could never have told you if you hadn’t asked, but yes I am, Lucy. I just know I’ve never felt like this before. The thought of not seeing him again is unbearable, yet seeing him, not knowing what he truly thinks…”
Lucy nodded. “Listen, I’m not a woman of the world, you know that,” she added wryly, “but from what I witnessed pass between the two of you tonight, I believe his feelings match yours, I really do.”
“I would love to believe that, but I find him so darn confusing. One minute I get the impression that, yeah, he really is keen on me, I mean, the way he looks at me just melts me! Then again, I think, have I imagined it, blown a couple of kisses all out of proportion? I suppose as a young,
modern woman I should be able to just tell him how I feel, but I can’t. I think he’d be off quick as a flash.”
“Mm. I suppose you’re right. Some guys are funny that way, like to do all the chasing.” Lucy yawned.
“Sorry, hon, you’ve had a busy day, all that sewing. Let’s get to bed. To get you away from the sewing machine for a while I have a hectic time planned for tomorrow in San Francisco.”
They strolled upstairs arm in arm, and Lucy went into her bedroom.
“Freya?” she called a few moments later. “Have you seen my purse?”
Freya popped her head around the door. “No. You didn’t take it out with you.”
Lucy frowned. “I left it on the bed.”
“Here it is.” Freya picked it up from the chair in the corner.
“Ah! Thought I put it on the bed. Thanks. See you in the morning. Sleep tight.”
Freya closed the door thoughtfully. If there was one thing you could rely on with Lucy, it was that she always remembered where she, and everyone else, put their stuff. From college days when they’d all shared a room and Freya, the untidiest person of the three, was forever misplacing things, Lucy had always known where they were. She shook her head, puzzled.
She climbed into bed. Flynn had said he wanted to see her, talk to her. What was that about? Before tiredness overtook her, she took the book from beneath the mattress and re-read it. She made up her mind. She would make inquiries about visiting Pamela. The thought left her feeling calm and settled. It was something she felt sure her father would want her to do.
Chapter Eighteen
The following morning, a crisp, clear, cool day, Freya and Lucy left the house early. The drive into San Francisco took just over an hour, and Freya was parking the car by nine o’clock. They strolled along the seafront to Fisherman’s Wharf, took a tram up to Union Square, and wandered through Macy’s before heading for Adriano Goldschmeid Jeans, where both bought a pair of the latest design.
“Heavens!” Freya couldn’t help smiling at her reflection in the changing room. “Amazing how they improve your shape!”
It was early afternoon when they strolled back to the car.
“I can’t believe I’m leaving tomorrow,” Lucy said. “I wish there was a way around it, but now that I’ve made the decision, there’s no point staying the month, there are so many loose ends to tie up in Philadelphia. Hopefully I’ll be back sooner rather than later.”
»»•««
Freya and Lucy hugged in the departure lounge.
“Love you, hon. It’s been great and I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Lucy smiled, stepping back to look at Freya. “You are going to be okay…Flynn, I mean?”
Freya nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll call him?” Lucy persisted.
“Sure, sure, I will.”
Freya waved until she’d gone through the departure gate and then drove home.
Ian, she noted on driving up to the door, hadn’t arrived, but she gave it no further thought. The moment she entered the house she looked up the number of the Mornington Institute, and with a shaky hand, dialed the number.
“Good day. Mornington,” a heavily accented voice said.
“Hi,” Freya answered. “I’m calling to make inquiries about visiting a patient.”
“And who would that be?”
“Pamela McFee.”
“Ah, yes. One moment.” Music came over briefly before the voice returned. “Yes, Pamela is allowed visitors. May I ask what relation you are to her?”
“I’m her husband’s daughter, Freya Martin.”
»»•««
Freya’s heart pumped with anticipation. She had an appointment for the following day. She went upstairs to strip the beds, and in Lucy’s room as she pulled off the top sheet, she stopped, bending over to pick up a couple of blades of grass from the bottom sheet.
Had Lucy been up before her this morning and gone for a walk, she wondered. Freya went to the open window and flicked the grass out.
I am getting paranoid.
At that moment, to her astonishment, she caught sight of Ian walking up from the orchard, but leaning out could see no sign of his bike. Running from the bedroom, she took the stairs two at a time and ran outside, almost colliding with him.
“Sorry, Ian,” she said breathlessly, “but I thought you weren’t here, I mean…it’s so early!”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “I told you I would be doing the pruning so I came early.”
“How early?” Freya thought he looked tousled, edgy, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
His eyes narrowed. “Does it matter as long as the job’s done?”
Freya bit on her lip. “No, I don’t suppose it does.”
»»•««
At the shop, Freya was kept busy and the day flew by. She worked alongside Margaret on a set of dining chairs, content to listen to Margaret’s chatter about the family, though no mention was made of Flynn, and Freya didn’t ask.
She stopped at the Thai restaurant in town and ate a solitary but enjoyable meal before returning home. In the lounge, she closed the heavy curtains, turned on the lamps, and flopping on the sofa, picked up a magazine just as the hall phone rang.
Lucy.
“Hi, hon,” she said. “Good trip?”
She heard a chuckle and then, “Not bad, but I think you’re mixing me up with someone. Phillip here.”
“Phillip!”
He laughed. “It’s not been that long! You do remember me? Phil Worthington? I believe I’m parked at the bottom of your driveway. I knew you were in San Jose, so arriving here on business earlier today, I called Sammy’s house, Joe answered, and of course when I told him where I was and that I desperately wanted to see to his beautiful sister-in-law, he kindly gave me your telephone number and address. I’m on my way up the drive now. I can see the light’s still on.”
“Phillip!” But the line had gone dead. Freya heard the car, stalked down the hallway, and flung the door open as Phillip was getting out of a rented black Land Cruiser.
“Freya!” he called. “Hey, what a great spot. House isn’t too bad either!”
He bounded up the steps onto the porch, grabbed her arms, and kissed her cheek.
Freya stepped back. “Why on earth are you here, Phillip?”
“It’s good to see you, too,” he retorted, in the well-remembered way. “As a matter of fact I was a bit put out when you left the company while I was in Europe. No good-bye, nothing. Aren’t you going to ask me in?”
Freya sighed and held back the door. “Come in. Things happened quickly, I wasn’t about to stay around and wait for your return.” She walked into the kitchen, Phillip behind her, and flicked the coffee machine on.
“Say, Freya, this really is a lovely house. My dad told me it was left to you by a relative.”
“Yes. So, I asked before. Why are you here, Phillip?”
Looking at his petulant face, Freya wondered how she’d ever imagined herself to be fond of him, but then, what Phillip lacked in the looks department, he had always compensated for with charm by the bucket load. “Charming Phillip Worthington,” the girls in the office used to call him, “could charm the birds out of the trees.” “Or a girl out of her underwear,” another added. And that’s what he appeared to have done with the latest female to join his father’s law firm. Curvaceous-I’ve-got-it-and-I’ll-show-it Jannine. She had walked in and Freya had been dropped like the proverbial hot potato.
Phillip folded his arms and leaned against the table. “I’ve come,” he said, “to make amends for my appallingly thoughtless behavior. I didn’t appreciate at the time how much I relied on you, and not just for work. I quickly realized how much I missed your intelligence and humor…”
Freya thrust a cup of coffee at him. “You’re talking complete rubbish. I meant nothing to you.”
He grinned. “Aw, come on, Freya, we had some cool times. Good coffee, still got the machine, I see.”
> “Phillip. It’s almost ten o’clock. I’m tired, so if you don’t mind…”
“Freya honey, look, I know I hurt your feelings and I’m sorry for that, but we could start again couldn’t we? Come back to Philadelphia and the firm. I’ve spoken with my father and he’s more than willing to make you partner. He has the greatest respect for you.” He’d placed his cup on the bench top and reached out for her hand, but Freya shook her head.
“No, I’m sorry, I can’t do that. I appreciate the kind offer of a partnership, but you and I are over. As for returning to Philly, I don’t think I’ll be doing that either, not in the foreseeable future at least. This house,” she looked around the room, “has become very dear to me. At first I thought I’d look it over then sell it, but now, well I’m almost certain I’ll stay.”
Phillip looked at her steadily. “Morvenna’s a backwater, Freya, I’ve driven through it in two minutes. You’ll die of boredom here. I know you, you need stimulation, excitement.”
Freya almost laughed. “You don’t know me at all, Phillip!” She went to the sink, rinsed her cup, and turned to face him, arms folded tightly. “I don’t know how you’ve come to that conclusion, but it is certainly not me. I like the life here. Very much.” She said again, “It’s late, Phillip.”
“I take it you want me to go then?”
She nodded.
“Okay.” Phillip sighed and looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “I passed the motel in town it had the no vacancy sign on.”
Freya smiled. “Full? In this backwater. Whatever next! Unfortunately, the Railway Hotel’s being refurbished, so I know you won’t get in there.” She bit her lip. “There’s a motel just outside town, it doesn’t have such great reviews… What? Don’t look at me like that!”
“It’s only for one night, Freya, and don’t worry, I’ve got the message. I’ll be out of your hair and your life first thing in the morning.”
Freya rolled her eyes. “Rather dramatic, Phillip, but okay, you can have the spare room.” She rolled the kitchen blind down and locked the back door.
The Way Love Goes Page 14