by Sandra Brown
“If he were a boy, I could tolerate his behavior,” Parker said. “As it is, he’s a thirty-year-old man acting like a boy. Olivia, you’d better get things straight with him. If he can’t be counted on for his support in this venture, then the deal is off. Your son is Ben’s heir, and everyone will be watching to see how he handles himself. If word gets around that he can’t control his temper and his personal habits,” he paused and looked significantly toward the liquor cabinet, “then I couldn’t endorse a joint venture for fear of losing my own credibility.”
“I understand, Parker.” Olivia’s green eyes were as cold and hard as emeralds. “Jared will come around to our way of thinking. He always does.”
Lauren was unaccountably irritated by Olivia’s self-assured guarantee. Jared was a grown man who had made some astute observations of his own. She felt a compulsion to defend him but, of course, she could not.
“He has a terrible reputation for activities that are unmentionable in Miss Holbrook’s presence,” Kurt contributed sanctimoniously.
“I don’t need you to tell me my son’s virtues or vices, Mr. Vandiver,” Olivia snapped.
“No, Mrs. Lockett. I only meant—”
“I think it’s time for us to take our leave,” Parker interrupted his son. “We’ve had a thorough discussion. We should give the proposal some further study and weigh all the elements involved.” He stood, walked over to Olivia, took her hand, and held it in both of his. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Olivia. The dinner was excellent. That Lockett beef can’t be beat.”
“I’m sure we can look forward to working together in the future, Parker. Your plans will proceed without interference, I assure you.”
“I hope so.”
Kurt murmured a personal goodnight to Lauren. This time when he raised her hand, his fleshy lips brushed across the back of it. It took all her composure not to jerk her hand away. She was grateful when the wide oak door with the etched and beveled glass closed behind the Vandivers.
Carson, Olivia, and Lauren stood in the foyer. The rest of the house was silent. Lauren turned to Olivia and faced her squarely. “Mrs. Lockett, why did you lie to them about me? You made me an unwilling accomplice in that lie.” She was astounded at her own temerity, but honesty was an integral part of her nature.
“Unwilling?” Olivia asked. Her brows arched over her eyes like two black wings. “You could have denied it right then and told them the truth. But you didn’t. I think you saw, as I did, that my story was more plausible and less… compromising.”
Lauren looked at Carson, who was staring at his shoes and offering no help. She clenched her hands tightly at her waist and gnawed on her bottom lip. Her initial instinct was to deny again the insinuation that she and Ben Lockett had meant anything more than friends to each other, but she refrained.
Two months. She must stay at least two months. Then…
Quickly she excused herself and went upstairs.
* * *
Carson lay in the tester bed and watched Olivia as she stepped from behind the decorative screen and walked naked across her bedroom.
She never ceased to amaze him. He knew her to be in her midfifties, but her excellent body belied her age. As she took down her hair, he could see her high, firm, full breasts reflected in the cheval glass. Her stomach was flat, and her thighs were without the heaviness that cursed most middle-aged women. Her hips were slender and taut. The skin on her buttocks was smooth and unwrinkled.
Each time he saw her thus, he was made painfully aware of his own unattractive physique. Out of the confines of his tight vest, his chest and stomach sagged, and his short legs had thickened with age. Carson had always envied his friend Ben his lithe, tall body. That powerful build and thick white hair had turned the heads of many women even as his years advanced.
Unperturbed by his careful observance of her, Olivia walked to the bedside and turned down the gas lamp. She sighed tiredly as she lay down and rested her head against the scented pillowcase.
“You were marvelous with them tonight, darling. I’m sure the evening was exhausting for you,” Carson said as he reached over to stroke Olivia’s luxuriant hair with his stubby fingers.
“Those bastards,” she hissed. “They know they have us over a barrel, and they’re making full use of our position to kick us while we’re down. If I didn’t want that railroad so desperately, I’d never give that goddam German sonofabitch the time of day.” Carson was used to her explicit language. He was gratified that she spoke this candidly only with him. He saw it as an indication of trust.
“I know, my dear. We’ll just have to play their game for a while. We’ve had to make sacrifices like this before, but they’ve always worked in our favor.”
“Yes. But this time it’s particularly galling.”
“Forget them for now and try to relax.” Carson moved closer and settled his stocky body along hers. He stroked her cheek before raising himself to kiss her briefly on the mouth; he knew she didn’t enjoy ardent kisses.
Laying his head as close to Olivia’s as space would allow, Carson trailed his hand down her throat and chest to cup her breast. Her one pregnancy hadn’t darkened her nipples, and they were almost as pink as a young girl’s. He continued to enjoy the feel of her warm flesh and the tender peaks of her breasts until she shifted impatiently. Her restlessness was his signal to go about his business.
He mounted her and met no resistance when he entered her quickly. His passion rose and climaxed in a matter of minutes. He never tried to sustain the pleasure. Olivia had been taught by the nuns at the Ursuline Academy in her native New Orleans that ladies didn’t enjoy the sexual act, but tolerated it out of love. Carson understood. If he ever wished he could coax a warmer response from Olivia, it was a fleeting fancy. His own cries of ecstasy were muzzled by the thick pillow in which he buried his face.
He was treated to a brief caress on his shoulder and a brush of her lips across his before she extricated herself from his embrace. Since that day over twenty years ago when she had unemotionally invited him to be her lover, he had never been allowed to linger inside her or enjoy her nakedness afterward.
Tonight, as usual, she left the bed and went directly into her bathroom. He heard the sounds of her washing. When she came back into the room, she was clad in a nightgown and robe.
“Carson, I have an idea.” She paced the expensive rug at the foot of the bed. He was never allowed to spend the entire night with her, and he begrudged the time she spent out of bed.
“Yes, dear?” he asked resignedly. He could tell by her agitated posture and the intent expression on her lovely face that she was enmeshed in thought. Tonight he would have to content himself with what lovemaking she had already permitted.
He listened with unconcealed astonishment as she related her plan. It was audacious and dangerous, clever and manipulative, impossible yet feasible. He objected to her motives, protested her means, but, as he always did, he agreed to her scheme.
Chapter 6
While Olivia outlined the plan that would have a dramatic impact on Lauren’s life, the girl was in her own bed trying vainly to sleep. She tossed restlessly, myriad thoughts darting through her mind and upsetting the modicum of serenity she had managed to preserve since her arrival at the Lockett household.
Olivia and Carson were a puzzle she couldn’t decipher. One moment she felt they accepted her for what she was, and the next moment she felt they posed a threat to her. Carson treated her kindly, but he was Olivia’s chattel. And Olivia’s attitude toward Lauren was reserved and cool to say the least.
The Vandivers had frightened Lauren. She was unaccustomed to hearing business deals discussed, and Parker’s callousness had appalled her. And Kurt was no doubt as greedy and ambitious as his father.
Thoughts of that young man made Lauren shiver even under the warmth of her bedcovers. He was handsome in a brutal sort of way, but his thick, powerful body repelled her, and his unctuous voice and conciliatory manner made her u
neasy. She felt threatened by him, but it was a different kind of alarm than she felt when she looked at Jared Lockett.
Jared. Ben’s son was a rake and scoundrel, a drunkard and a womanizer, so why did she continue to dwell on him? Why did Jared’s long, lean body intrigue her so? Why did she feel a compulsion to touch him?
Since she had been initiated into the rites of womanhood at age eleven and given a very rudimentary explanation of her body’s workings by the embittered Dorothea Harris, Lauren’s education on the subject of sexuality had been sadly deficient.
She was fifteen before she realized something mysterious, some strange chemistry, attracted the bodies of men and women to each other. She was at a picnic held in the city park in honor of the veterans returning home from the Spanish-American War in Cuba. As she sat under a shade tree, her attention was diverted from her book to a young soldier and his pretty young wife. Lauren knew them both. They had been married only a few weeks before he joined the army.
They were sitting close together under another tree. They weren’t talking, but were nonetheless communicating. They gazed steadfastly into each other’s eyes. The young woman rested her hand on her husband’s thigh and lightly caressed it with her fingertips. Lauren watched covertly from behind her eyeglasses as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the palm ardently. He then returned her hand to his thigh, pressing it gently.
For some inexplicable reason, Lauren’s heart started pounding, and she felt hot and flushed all over. She noticed a strange sensation in the lower part of her body. Her breasts were tingling, and the nipples became taut and pointed under her camisole. She was uncomfortable and ashamed to have such distinct physical reactions in these private parts of her body.
The man leaned down and whispered into his wife’s ear. She smiled, nodded. He stood, extending his hand to help pull her to her feet, then kissed her fervently on the mouth. Lauren was finding it difficult to draw a full breath.
They smiled at each other and, glancing around, clandestinely left the picnic. They said goodbye to no one, and apparently Lauren was the only one to witness their leaving.
Those disturbing but exquisite sensations she had experienced years ago when she watched the intimacy between the young couple had almost been forgotten. They had come back to her with stunning clarity when she saw Jared Lockett leaning negligently against her doorjamb that afternoon. Why?
She read his scorn for her in the amber lights of his eyes, and was deeply hurt. What had she done to evoke such disdain? Not even the hateful, ugly words William had flung at her had pierced her like that knowing, twisted smirk on Jared’s sensuous mouth.
He had stared at her all during dinner. Kurt had watched her, too. But his stare was cold and calculating, while Jared’s eyes had burned into her like tongues of golden flame.
Her whole body trembled under her nightgown. She closed her eyes, but Jared’s image was imprinted on the back of her lids.
Once again, she relived the moment when his hand had pressed against her breast. She felt his breath on her face, and tried to imagine how his lips would feel against hers. A long, shuddering sigh escaped her and she moaned into the pillow. She wanted to know what it was like.
And she knew that finding out would bring her perilously close to the brink of hell… or heaven.
* * *
The pendulum wall clock in the office chimed the hour of eight. It was the morning following the dinner with the Vandivers. To Lauren’s ears, the tolling chimes sounded ominous as she sat in silence with Carson and Olivia, waiting for Jared to join them.
Olivia looked full of resolve and purpose as she sat upright and grim in her chair behind the desk. Carson was nervous and uneasy, periodically wiping his forehead with a linen handkerchief. Lauren daintily sipped a cup of tea.
She had awakened early after her restless night. Her heavy maroon skirt and ecru shirtwaist were donned hurriedly, and without Elena’s help. Lauren had pinned her hair into a haphazard chignon at the nape of her neck and left her room. Her haste in making an appearance at breakfast was probably unnecessary, but she didn’t want her hostess to think her lazy.
Before she entered the dining room, Carson intercepted her and asked if she would please join him and Olivia in the office where they had interviewed her previously. She would always think of it as Ben’s office, for an aura of the man still clung to the atmosphere.
Lauren went in behind Carson and quickly poured a cup of tea, sweetening it liberally, intuitively guessing she would need some sustenance during this mysterious meeting. Carson’s full cheeks reddened considerably, and he wouldn’t look her fully in the eyes when he extended the invitation, which Lauren knew was not an invitation at all, but a command. Carson’s jitters were communicated to her.
Something was in the wind. And it obviously affected her. But how? She couldn’t imagine. Maybe in light of the events of last evening, they were going to ask her politely to leave. They would have their hands full for a while with the business of the railroad, and she couldn’t blame them for not wanting an outsider cluttering up their lives.
Why was it necessary for Jared to hear her fate? She’d prefer that he didn’t witness the interview. He, however, would undoubtedly relish any misfortune that befell her, she thought dismally.
Lauren started as she heard his boots echoing on the parquet floor in the hall. He stomped into the room and looked darkly at his mother.
“This better be damned important for you to root me out of bed this early when I got in late and feel as godawful as I do. I’m going to get some coffee.” He strode out of the room and no one spoke until he returned a few moments later carrying a steaming mug of coffee. He sipped it and cursed under his breath when it burned his tongue.
In contrast to Olivia’s military neatness, Jared was disheveled—his brown hair mussed, the wrinkled shirt hastily and sloppily stuffed into rumpled pants, the boots which had shone last night now scuffed and dull. He slouched in a chair in a posture Lauren was coming to know. He ignored her and Carson completely.
“If it weren’t important, Jared, I would not have disturbed you.” Olivia spoke as if no time had elapsed since he first came in and rudely addressed her. “Carson and I had a long talk last night after the Vandivers left. We have arrived at some conclusions and want to tell you our course of action that will resolve our problems with Parker.”
Carson once again mopped his perspiring brow, and licked his lips nervously as he watched Jared from across the room. If they were going to rehash the same argument, Lauren would prefer to return to her room and the correspondence she was doing for Olivia. Or start packing her bags.
“Why do I suspect that I’m not going to like our ‘course of action’?” Jared asked stonily. “You know how I feel about those jackasses. I don’t want them on one square inch of Lockett land.”
“I don’t particularly like them, either, and I trust them less; but I want that railroad, Jared. Carson does, too, and so did your father.”
“Ben didn’t want it bad enough to let a thief like Vandiver make the deals for him.”
“Jared, what your mother is trying to say is that we’ve got to give a little in order to gain a lot.” Carson looked at the younger man almost pleadingly. “I know why you hesitate about damming up even a small tributary of Rio Caballo. Some of the smaller farmers and ranchers will suffer setbacks, but we’ll work with them all we can. We’re not going to leave them high and dry.” He laughed skittishly at his own play on words, but Jared didn’t even smile.
Lauren had watched Jared since the discussion began and saw the same expression of conviction that he had shown last night. His jaw worked convulsively as he clenched his teeth.
Then he hung his head and swirled the coffee around in his mug. He studied it hard, a deep groove forming between the thick brows. When he looked up again, his face had completely changed. He looked at his mother with accusation, at Carson with disgust, and then assumed an attitude of complete indifference.
He shrugged insolently. “Do whatever you like. I don’t give a damn. The two of you will make great partners with Vandiver.”
He set the mug on the table in front of him and stood to leave, but Olivia checked him. “Jared, wait. I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that. Sit down.” Impatience was written on his surly face, but he slumped into the chair again and restlessly propped one ankle on the other knee.
“It seems, Jared, that some of the investors in this railroad of ours are concerned about your attitude. After word of your behavior last night gets around, I’m sure it will confirm their low opinion of you. You must be, or at least appear to be, behind this project one hundred percent. The power plant, as well as the railroad, needs your public endorsement now that you are taking over your father’s businesses.”
“Taking over? That’s a laugh,” he muttered caustically.
Olivia ignored the interruption. “Of course, Carson and I will be running things for you until you feel ready to assume responsibility. But to the world, you must present a credible air of authority and maturity.” She let all of that sink in, pausing dramatically before she said, “That’s why we feel you should marry as soon as possible. Marry Miss Holbrook.”
The words hung in the air, suspended on the palpable currents of differing emotions evoked in those who had heard them.
Rivers of blood rushed to Lauren’s head, causing a great roaring, and a fire consumed her eyes and ears even as perspiration covered her body in a chilling film.
Olivia remained unperturbed. She sat calmly and regally, waiting for her subjects to do her bidding so she could get on with the affairs of state.
Carson’s eyes darted from Lauren to Jared to Olivia, and then back to Lauren. He had no idea what the girl was thinking. She stared in front of her as if she had lost all her senses.
Jared’s reaction surprised them all. He burst out laughing. He stood and stumbled around the room holding his sides until, completely spent, he collapsed against the windowsill. Drawing in several gulps of air, he said with total incredulity, “You can’t be serious! Marry Miss Holbrook! That’s the best laugh I’ve had in weeks.” He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes and Lauren was poignantly reminded of Ben. Only that memory penetrated her shocked brain.