He registered the slightly testy tone in her voice. “Sorry. I just didn’t want her to grill you. She can be merciless.” As he continued across the room, he muttered in her ear, “We don’t have to worry about spreading the news anymore. I bet every person in this ballroom knows we’re married within ten minutes.”
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Her gaze was steady and there were unspoken issues dancing between them.
“Yeah,” he said, ignoring everything but the words. “That’s what I wanted.” Purposefully he moved through the crowd enjoying drinks and canapés, introducing Faith as they went.
The band switched from background music to dance tunes and the floor filled immediately. When he heard the strains of the first slow dance, he took her glass and his and set them both aside. “Do you like to dance?” he asked as he escorted her to the floor.
“I don’t really know,” she said. “I’ve never done much of it.”
“You’re kidding. What did they teach you at that school?”
“Latin, physics, biology…little things like that. It was a real school.”
“Point taken,” he said, amused. “All right, I’ll teach you to dance. Just step where I step and hold on to me.”
“How about I just stand on your feet like I used to?”
He laughed. “Let’s see how you do learning the steps before we resort to that.”
When they reached the dance floor, he pulled her into the rhythm of the steps with ease, guiding her with one big hand on her back. His fingers grazed her skin just above the place where her dress stopped. God, he wanted to touch her in so many other ways. This was torture. But it was necessary. They had to appear to be a happy newly married couple. The first few weeks were bound to be the toughest, until their marriage faded from the radar screens of the gossip-mongers.
“Are you doing all right?” he asked. She was following his lead easily, as if they had danced together a hundred times before.
She nodded, the action stirring the soft curls against her neck. “Fine.”
“Good.” He hesitated, then said, “I’m going to hold you closer. The world is watching and I want them to be convinced we’re newlyweds.” Uh-huh, ri-i-ight, said his conscience, but he firmly squashed it.
“All right.” Her voice was breathy, her color high. Her gaze flashed to his, then away, and the desire she felt was so transparent he felt scorched by the heat that leaped between them.
Dammit, this was impossible. Knowing that she wanted him was the worst kind of aphrodisiac in the world. If she were more experienced, he wouldn’t hesitate to take what she offered. But she wasn’t. And he had no intention of changing their situation. Someday she would thank him for it. He hoped so, anyhow, because if she didn’t appreciate how hard this was for him, he might just strangle her.
How hard…bad choice of words. Very bad choice of words. He drew her in, tucking their clasped hands to his chest and sliding his arm more fully around her, bringing her body closer to his without pressing her torso against his. Thank God she was wearing that puffy-skirted dress that made it hard, er, difficult for him to get too close. She’d probably be shocked silly if she realized exactly what she was pressed against, because for all her delicate dancing around a very touchy subject, he knew her experience was extremely limited. The first time he’d kissed her he’d sensed that she hadn’t had a lot of practice at it. But she’d learned fast. Thinking about her passionate, searing response to his kiss was a bad idea. A really, really lousy idea, in fact. He tried to concentrate on the music, the couples around them, but all he could seem to absorb was the feel of her in his arms. She startled him then by turning her face into his throat, tilting it slightly upward so that her breath caressed his throat and resting her head against his shoulder and without thinking, he slid his hand up over the bare skin of her back to caress her nape.
She shivered involuntarily, and he smiled against her hair. “Sorry. Did I tickle you?”
“N-no.”
“Good. Relax.” Was she kissing his neck? No, of course she wasn’t. It was only his prurient imagination in overdrive. “People are watching us. You do realize we’re going to be the hot topic of tomorrow’s gossip column, don’t you?”
“I hope not.” Her breath lightly feathered his skin.
“We are. But as I said, they’ll soon be on to some newer gossip. We’ll be so boring they won’t have anything to write about.”
“Good.” Her answer was heartfelt.
They danced in silence for a long while as the music flowed from one song into another. He thought he probably could hold her, just like this, all night. Their silence wasn’t strained, and though his body was well aware of her nearness, there was a strangely satisfying peaceful sweetness in simply dancing with her in his arms. The thought of doing this week after week for an entire year was powerfully appealing. His blood fizzed and bubbled like fine sparkling wine in his veins and reluctantly, he acknowledged that he was going to have to put some space between them or he was going to do something he would definitely regret.
“Faith?”
“Hmm?”
“When this song ends, we’re leaving.”
She raised her head from his shoulder and immediately he missed the warmth. “It’s barely ten o’clock. Isn’t that a bit early?”
“Not for newlyweds. They’ll think they know exactly where we’re going.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened and her gaze clung to his for a long moment. Then she dropped the contact and looked steadily at his right shoulder, which he knew was all she could see from her angle. She’d withdrawn from him, he realized. And a second later, he also realized he didn’t like it one damn bit.
“Faith?”
“Yes?” She didn’t look at him.
The hell with distance. He had to taste her again or die. “I’m going to kiss you.”
“Wha—?” Her eyes flew open and she instinctively tried to pull away from him, but he controlled her with such ease that he doubted anyone even realized she’d just lost a bid for freedom. “Why?” she asked bluntly. “You said I—you said you didn’t want me—”
“Appearances.” His voice sounded strained to his own ears. “I’m going to kiss you so there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind why we’re leaving.” Liar.
“Oh.” It took the wind out of her sails and he almost could feel her droop against him. She was so vulnerable that one short comment had wounded her. It was a puzzle. How could a woman as lovely as Faith think she wasn’t attractive? Then he realized that she’d simply never been exposed to large quantities of men who would undoubtedly drool over her. He sighed, unable to let her continue thinking that she didn’t turn him on.
“It’s not you,” he said gruffly. “You’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever known and if you want the truth, I’m having a hell of a time keeping myself from, uh, doing something rash.”
There was a silence between them.
Finally she said, “Really?” and her tone was distinctly doubtful.
“Really,” he responded dryly.
“It, um, wouldn’t be rash,” she said, looking up at him with such hope in her eyes that he felt ten feet tall.
His body urged him to take her somewhere private and plunge into the maelstrom of passion she offered—but he resisted. He still wasn’t going to make any moves they both would regret later. He had to kiss her, but he would keep it short. Just a taste to get him through this ridiculously adolescent longing. “Selfish, then. Your whole life is ahead of you. You need time to experience the world.”
She didn’t say anything, just lowered her gaze to his shoulder again, giving him a subtle but definite cold shoulder.
Now he knew exactly what his married buddies called “the silent treatment.” And he knew why they didn’t like it. Well, the hell with that. Letting go of the hand he held in closed dance position, he took her stubborn little chin in his fingers and tipped her face up to his. And then his lips slid onto hers and the world e
xploded.
He initially had intended to give her a light, gentle kiss that would look romantic to the many eyes covertly directed their way. But the minute he began to kiss her, Faith relaxed against him with a quiet hum of approval, delighting him and pushing his already eager body into a far-too-serious awareness of the girl who was, in the strictest sense of the word, his ward until her twenty-first birthday. God, she was so innocent! He could taste the inexperience in the sweet soft line of her lips as she passively let him mold them, and he moved carefully, determined not to scare her.
But she didn’t seem to be in any danger of being frightened. He suppressed a groan as her lips began to move beneath his. Slowly he lifted his mouth a breath away from hers, knowing he couldn’t take much more. They were on a dance floor in the middle of a crowded ballroom; even if he intended to deepen the kiss and teach her how to kiss him back the way he longed for her to do, he wasn’t going to do it here.
You aren’t going to do it ever.
Ever. He looked down at her, taking in the glaze of passion in her eyes and the way she ran her tongue over her lips in reaction as she said, “Stone?” in a bewildered tone.
“That should convince them.” He forced out the words, ignoring her unspoken appeal. “Thanks.”
Her eyes widened and her body went stiff in his arms. Carefully she pushed herself away from the close contact and let him continue to lead her through the motions of the dance. But she’d lowered her head and withdrawn into herself again. He could feel the distance between them and abruptly, he led her off the dance floor.
No matter how much he wanted to pull her back against him and teach her all the things that were playing in his mind right now, he wasn’t going to. They had to live in each other’s pockets for twelve months. He was her guardian, he reminded himself rather desperately. He respected her too much to cheapen their relationship with casual sex. He was almost thirty years old and he’d learned by now that sex without commitment wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. He didn’t love Faith that way and though he wanted her badly, he didn’t want to mislead her. She was so innocent she’d probably confuse sex with love. Which wasn’t what was between them. Not at all.
Love wasn’t an emotion with which he was familiar. In fact, he was pretty sure it didn’t exist, except in poets’ imaginations. It was just a pretty word to dress up desire. Physical attraction. He’d never seen two people in love yet who weren’t physically attracted to each other, proving his point. And when that attraction wore off, there often wasn’t enough basic compatibility to keep them together. His parents were a prime example of that.
Things were strained between them during the rest of the evening, though he doubted anyone else would notice. Faith dutifully smiled and made small talk as he took her around the room to introduce her to a few more people who would be offended if he didn’t. But she didn’t meet his eyes. He kept a hand at the small of her back or lightly around her waist most of the time, just for show.
She was still silent on the drive home.
He said good-night to her at the foot of the stairs, then left her to rustle up the stairs in her pretty gown alone while he moved into his study on the pretext of checking his e-mail. In truth, he didn’t really want to be in his room, imagining her disrobing just on the other side of an unlocked door. He trusted his willpower but there was no sense in being stupid. She was young and beautiful, slim and warm, and his body knew she was available.
Just say no, he reminded himself. He’d seen Nancy Reagan’s famous slogan, intended to help kids resist drugs, plastered on billboards. Somehow, it seemed appropriate under the circumstances.
Two weeks passed. Forty-nine more weeks with Stone after this one, she thought to herself one Wednesday morning. Although that time would do her little good, she thought morosely, when the man barely set foot in the same room with her. He left for work at dawn and often worked well past the dinner hour. She’d eaten dinner with her mother and Clarice almost every night and kept a plate warm in the oven for him. Her days were incredibly long and, well, boring.
The one bright spot in the tedium of her current situation was the time she got to spend with her mother. Yesterday, they’d gone across Central Park to the West Side and toured part of the Natural History Museum. Naomi’s face had been one big smile the whole time, although Faith worried a little bit that the trip was too tiring for her.
“Tiring?” her mother had said. “How can it be tiring? All I’m doing is driving this scooter.”
But privately, Faith could see that her mother had lost a lot of ground in the past year. She was unable to get from bed or chair to her scooter without Faith’s or Clarice’s assistance. Eating was becoming more difficult due to the tremors that often shook her hands and arms. And on Monday, they’d taken her to the ophthalmologist because Naomi had thought she needed stronger glasses. The ophthalmologist did give her a new prescription, but while she was picking out new frames with Clarice, he’d taken Faith aside and told her that her mother was developing double vision, a common problem with MS. She should see her primary care physician, he’d emphasized, since there were advances in medicine all the time and he didn’t know that much about multiple sclerosis.
The worries about her mother’s health made every moment they spent together even more special. She thought of Stone, and the way he’d reacted to his mother, and she remembered what he’d said: Would it have killed her to let a little kid think he meant something special to her? His resentment was deep-seated and not without cause. But she’d also seen the pain in Eliza’s eyes on more than one occasion when Stone had brushed her off. Whatever she’d been or done in the past, she cared about him. And Faith couldn’t imagine that a woman who cared about her child would absent herself from his life for extended periods without good reason.
Acting on impulse, she went to the kitchen and found the telephone book, then placed a call. A few moments and two receptionists later, she was speaking with her mother-in-law.
“Faith! What a pleasant surprise!” The CEO of Smythe Corp. sounded delighted to hear from her. “How are you adjusting to marriage?”
“Quite well, thank you.” Dangerous subject. She’d better move to the reason for her call. “I was hoping you could join us for lunch one day soon if you’re not too busy.”
There was a momentary silence on the other end. “I would love to,” Eliza said, and Faith could tell she meant it. “When and what time?”
On Saturday night, Faith and Stone attended the opening of a new Broadway show in the Marriott Marquis. It was a stirring musical based on the life of Abraham Lincoln. It ended with shocking effect with the shot that took Lincoln’s life and the audience held their applause for a hushed moment of silence before breaking into wild clapping.
Faith wore another of the dresses Stone had purchased for her and the sapphires again. Might as well let him get his money’s worth. She felt constrained in his presence tonight, all too aware of the distance he insisted on imposing. He’d been that way in the weeks since the WARR ball, staying so busy she barely saw him, spending what time he was at home in his office working. Some days she hadn’t seen him at all. Others, he’d made charming small talk with her mother and Clarice over dinner, including Faith just enough to make a good showing for the older women. She resented it, but she knew she had no real reason to complain. This was the bargain they’d made. He was living up to his end and expected her to do the same.
“Well,” Stone said as they moved toward the room where a private reception to celebrate the opening night was being held, “I predict a long and healthy run.” He didn’t meet her eyes, though, as he spoke, and she was all too aware this was a public performance.
“I agree.” She pointed as they entered the ballroom. “Oh, look at the ice sculpture.” There were several stations scattered around the room for hors d’oeuvres and at each one was a towering ice sculpture. The one nearest them was a stunningly faithful representation of Lincoln in profile.
&n
bsp; They got plates of pretty sandwiches and other bite-size morsels and Stone brought her a glass of club soda as she’d requested. But he didn’t sit down when he returned with her drink. “I see some people I need to speak to,” he told her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Oh, I’ll go with you.” She started to rise, but he put a hand on her shoulder.
“No, it’s business. Go ahead and eat. We’ll dance when I get back.”
She watched him walk away through the crowd. It’s business. He was determined to keep that part of his life separate from her, it seemed. And to keep himself away as much as possible, too. She ate, and waited. And waited some more. She was getting quite tired of waiting when she saw a small knot of people off to her left. As she scrutinized the group, she realized that they were clustered around a youngish looking dark-haired man. And a moment later, she recognized him as one of the actors from the play.
Well. If Stone wasn’t going to entertain her, she’d find someone to talk to on her own. She might never have had the nerve to approach the actor if there hadn’t been a ring of fans already around him, but she’d been quite impressed with his performance and wanted to tell him so. Rising, she walked toward the crowd and waited patiently as person after person shook the actor’s hand and effused about the show. The man glanced up, and his gaze sharpened as he caught her eye. She smiled and extended her hand. “I wanted to tell you what a fine performance you gave tonight. I suspect this will keep you employed for quite some time.”
The actor laughed, displaying dimples and perfect white teeth. “That would be nice!” He didn’t let go of her hand, but turned, tucking it through his arm. “I’m starving. Will you accompany me to the buffet?”
She allowed him to turn her in the right direction.
“What’s your name? I’m at a disadvantage—you know mine.” His blue eyes twinkled as he looked down at her.
And indeed she did. “I’m Faith,” she said. “Faith—Lachlan.”
Billionaire Bachelors: Stone Page 9