Absolutely, Positively

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  The Strattons and Trevelyans turned disgruntled faces toward her once more.

  “Thank you,” Molly said. “Now then, as I was saying. In an effort to find a place for himself in the bosom of his family, Harry has allowed all of you to take serious advantage of him.”

  Danielle stiffened in her chair. “Are you implying that we use Harry?”

  Molly smiled approvingly at her. “Yes, Mrs. Hughes, that is exactly what I’m implying.”

  Danielle stared at her, open-mouthed, and then she turned red. “That’s an outrageous insult, Ms. Abberwick. And I for one object.”

  Evangeline was equally annoyed. “What’s all this about us using Harry?”

  “That is precisely what all of you do,” Molly said quietly.

  “He’s a Trevelyan,” Evangeline sputtered. “He has a certain responsibility to his family.”

  Gilford glowered at Evangeline across the table. “His mother was my sister, and don’t you forget it. That makes him a Stratton. His responsibility is to his Stratton relatives, not to you freeloading Trevelyans.”

  Leon climbed to his feet with a roar. “Why you lousy little two-bit wimp. Harry doesn’t owe you a damn thing.”

  “Sit down, Leon. Now.” Molly paused to regain everyone’s attention. “Listen to me, all of you. I’ve lived with Harry long enough to hear the kind of messages that come in on his private line. Two or three a day sometimes.”

  “So?” Gilford challenged.

  “So, he’s told me about some of your demands, and I’ve overheard many of you whining to him about various and assorted problems.”

  “Whining?” Gilford looked scandalized by the accusation.

  “Yes, whining,” Molly repeated. “All of you who contact Harry seem to have one thing in common.”

  A hush fell on the room.

  Olivia toyed with a spoon. “I suppose you’re going to tell us what that one thing is?”

  “Yes,” Molly said. “I am. The one thing both Strattons and Trevelyans have in common is that whenever you talk to Harry, you all want something from him.”

  Stunned silence greeted that simple observation. The unnatural hush was immediately followed by an uproar that made conversation impossible. For several minutes Molly could hear nothing above the thundering din of objections, exclamations, and defensive responses.

  Josh was the only one who did not leap to his feet or yell in protest. He lounged in his seat with that cool masculine grace that characterized the Trevelyan men and gave Molly a slight, knowing smile. She winked at him.

  Eventually, when she deemed the initial explosion over, she raised her hands to regain control of the room.

  “People, people, take your seats,” she said loudly. “Sit down, all of you, or I’m going to walk out of here right now.”

  There were a few more angry protests before the Strattons and Trevelyans reluctantly subsided back into their chairs.

  “Now, then,” Molly said calmly, “for those of you who doubt my interpretation of events, let me list just a small sampling of the many ways in which you all try to use Harry. Shall we begin on the Trevelyan side?”

  “Why not?” Parker fumed. “Bunch of lazy, shiftless cons and carnies. That’s all they are. They’d take advantage of their own grandmothers.”

  Leon started to get to his feet. “Why, you—”

  “Down, Leon,” Molly said quickly. “As I was saying, we shall begin on the Trevelyan side of the family. Evangeline, who did you go to four years ago when you wanted help putting together a financing package for Smoke & Mirrors Amusement Company?”

  Evangeline’s face tightened in astonishment. “That was business.”

  “Business which you could not have conducted if you hadn’t had help from Harry.” Molly held up a finger. “Now, just to keep things even, we shall go to the Stratton side of the family. Brandon, who did you approach when you wanted assistance in setting up your new property management firm?”

  Brandon blinked. “That’s different. I just needed some names of venture capitalists.”

  “Names which Harry supplied.” Molly held up another finger.

  “Back to the Trevelyans. Leon, who bought your new truck for you?”

  Leon’s dark eyes glittered with anger. “That’s between me and Harry, damn it.”

  “Precisely. Harry bought it for you.” Molly held up another finger and looked toward the Stratton side of the table. “Gilford, who did you go to when you wanted help convincing Parker that it would be a good idea to expand Stratton Properties into commercial development on the Eastside?”

  Gilford looked shocked. “How did you find out about that? That’s proprietary information.”

  “Harry mentioned it,” Molly said dryly.

  Danielle bristled. “I shall have to speak to Harry about maintaining family confidences.”

  “Too late, I’m afraid,” Molly murmured. “Like it or not, Harry now considers me one of the family. That means the rest of you will have to do the same.”

  That brought another wave of charged silence. The Strattons and Trevelyans glared at each other and then at Molly.

  “Now, then,” Molly continued briskly, “since we’re talking about confidential Stratton information, perhaps this is as good a time as any to remind you, Mrs. Hughes, of just how much you’ve relied on Harry during the past few years.”

  “Me?” Danielle’s expression was one of deep indignation. “I’m his aunt. I have every right to discuss certain problems with my nephew.”

  “Problems which you want him to resolve for you,” Molly said. “I’m sure you recall how you went to Harry when you became anxious about Brandon going out on his own?”

  “There’s no need to bring that up now.” Danielle cast a quick, uneasy glance at her father, Parker.

  “Fine.” Molly turned toward Raleigh. “Maybe we should talk about how useful you find Harry when money runs short?”

  Raleigh winced. “I get your point.”

  “I think we all do,” Parker said in a tone of weary resignation. “It’s clear where this is going. Ms. Abberwick, you seem to feel that Harry has been imposed upon by both sides of his family.”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that,” Molly said carefully. “I believe that he has allowed himself to be imposed upon because deep down he wants a connection with both sides of his family, and this was the only way you would allow him to be a part of your lives.”

  “That’s not true,” Danielle said. “Naturally we wanted Harry to take his rightful role within the family.”

  Molly turned to confront her. “Did you? That’s not the way it came across to Harry. All his life the Strattons and Trevelyans have tried to make him choose sides in the war between the families.”

  Olivia grimaced. “That’s putting it rather strongly.”

  Molly ignored her. “You’re all guilty of trying to make him declare himself either a Stratton or a Trevelyan. When he refused to deny either side of his heritage, you tried to punish him for it.”

  Parker narrowed his eyes. “That’s your view of the situation, Ms. Abberwick. There’s another side to Harry that you don’t seem to know about. He’s not exactly Mr. Nice Guy when he wants to force one of us to do what he thinks we ought to do.”

  “You can say that again,” Leon muttered. “Harry plays hardball, and that’s a fact.”

  Gilford gave Molly a wry look. “My father and Leon are both right, Ms. Abberwick. Harry doesn’t hesitate to resort to blackmail, arm-twisting, or outright threats when he deems it necessary.”

  Molly smiled complacently. “I don’t doubt it. He gets that from both sides of his family, I’m afraid.”

  Evangeline was irritated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means,” Molly said coolly, “that Harry can be just as hard as you force him to be. He
’s half Stratton and half Trevelyan, after all. The thing is, none of you truly understand him.”

  Olivia waved one hand in a disgusted, supercilious gesture. “That’s an inane thing to say, Molly. I assure you, I understand Harry very well.”

  “No,” Molly said simply. “You don’t. You can’t.”

  “I happen to be a professional,” Olivia reminded her.

  “That’s your problem,” Molly said. “No offense, Olivia, but you’re a prisoner of your own professional training. It forces you to view the behavior of other people from a certain theoretical perspective.”

  “That perspective happens to be grounded in years of solid scientific research and study,” Olivia retorted.

  “You’ve tried to analyze Harry using conventional techniques,” Molly said. “But they won’t work on him. I don’t intend to go into the subject now, but you can believe me when I say that Harry’s different.”

  Olivia gave a ladylike snort. “That ridiculous statement only goes to show how sadly uninformed and willfully naive you are. You have no experience in the field of clinical psychology, Molly. Your opinions are nothing more than examples of wishful thinking.”

  “Speaking of wishful thinking,” Brandon said dryly, “I wish you would get off the subject of Harry’s psychological problems, Olivia. I more or less promised the guy that I’d try to keep you from analyzing him at every opportunity.”

  Olivia flushed. “What are you talking about?”

  “It annoys him,” Brandon explained. “And I can’t say I blame him. You know something? Molly’s right. Harry has done me a major favor. The least I can do is keep you off his back. Whatever else you can say about Harry, he’s smart. If he wants professional help, let him get it outside the family, okay?”

  Olivia was clearly taken aback. She started to say something and then lapsed into silence.

  Brandon looked at Molly. “I think we all understand what you’re trying to say here. I, for one, have to agree that, from your point of view, it probably does look as if we’ve all tried to use Harry in one way or another.”

  “And tried to force him to choose sides in a war he never started,” Molly concluded.

  “You can say that again,” Josh muttered. “I lived with him for years, remember? I know what it’s been like for him. Everyone is always after him. Always trying to get him to turn his back on one side of the family or the other. Molly’s right. Everyone here has been more than happy to use him when it was convenient.”

  Danielle lifted her chin imperiously. “I disagree completely. No one has used Harry. He has responsibilities in the family, and he’s carried them out from time to time. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Whatever the truth of the matter,” Gilford said, “it’s obvious that Molly has a different take on the situation. And like it or not, she’s the one who’s going to be married to Harry. I think she’s made her point. None of us wants to have to go through her to get to Harry. As his wife, she’s going to have a lot of control over the situation. If she decides to protect him from the rest of us, she’s going to be able to do it.”

  Evangeline gave Molly an assessing look. “What do you want from us?”

  “As I told you when you first sat down,” Molly said, “I have two demands.”

  Josh’s mouth curved with anticipation. “What are they?”

  “First,” Molly said, “in honor of his forthcoming marriage, I want a bachelor party for Harry. A real bachelor party. One that will be attended by every able-bodied male on both sides of the family. No excuses will be accepted. Josh and Brandon will organize it.”

  Everyone seated at the table gaped. Josh and Brandon exchanged wary looks.

  “Second,” Molly continued, “I want everyone on both sides of Harry’s family to attend the wedding. Anyone who is not there will find it extremely difficult to get to Harry at any time during the next fifty or sixty years.”

  “Good God,” Parker muttered.

  Molly looked at the stunned faces of Harry’s family. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

  Josh grinned. “Absolutely.”

  She frowned at him. “One more thing. There will be no naked women jumping out of cakes at Harry’s bachelor party. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Josh said. “No naked women in the cakes. Got it.”

  Molly glanced toward the door where a waiter carrying a large tray had appeared. “Well, that’s that. Let’s eat. And no food fights allowed.”

  * * *

  That night Harry woke up at midnight. He came awake gradually, not with a start. He lay quietly for a few seconds, wondering what had roused him from sleep. He could not put his finger on it. Nothing felt wrong. There had been no nightmares. No strange sounds in the dark.

  Then suddenly, inexplicably he knew that Molly was wide awake beside him. He gathered her close. With a soft little murmur, she snuggled deeper into his arms. He slid one leg between her thighs.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered on a yawn.

  “Nothing.”

  “You sure?” He nuzzled the curve of her shoulder. The scent of her warmed him, delighted him, thrilled him. A certain part of him was abruptly wide awake.

  “I’m sure. I was just lying here, thinking.”

  “Humming.” He nibbled her earlobe.

  “What?”

  “You were humming.” He slid the sleeve of her nightgown downward to free one delicate breast. She felt so good beneath his hands. Soft. Warm. Exciting. “I heard you.”

  She ignored that. “Harry, what are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” He bent his head to kiss one nipple. It firmed at the touch of his tongue.

  “Harry?” She stroked his shoulders.

  “Yes?” He flattened his hand on her stomach.

  “How does the first of the month sound? That’s two weeks from now.”

  “What happens on the first of the month?” He tangled his fingers in the hair at the apex of her thighs, probing for the warmth and gathering dew he knew he would find there.

  Molly sucked in her breath. “Our wedding. Kelsey will be back from her summer workshop by then. I…Harry.” Her hands clenched in his hair. She twisted, lifting herself against his questing hand.

  Satisfaction coursed through Harry. Her response to him seemed to grow stronger, more familiar, more intimate in some indefinable manner each time he made love to her. It was like playing an instrument, he thought. The more they practiced together, the better the music got.

  “The first of the month sounds fine,” Harry whispered.

  “You’ll be finished with your paper by then?” She was breathless now.

  “Yes.” He settled between her silken thighs and entered her slowly. “The sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

  He did not even bother to fight the urge to sink himself, all of himself, completely into her. This opening of his senses brought such powerful, intense pleasure to both of them.

  It was as though he had lived in a shuttered room all of his life until he had met Molly. Now, when he was with her like this, the windows were fully open at last, and he could see the true colors of the world.

  A long time later Harry drifted contentedly on the verge of sleep, allowing himself to luxuriate in the deep satisfaction that had come in the aftermath of the lovemaking.

  Part of him was dimly aware of the moonlight on the bed, the feel of Molly cuddled against him, and a gentle sensation that had no name.

  He considered the sensation with idle curiosity. It was a sort of muted singing, he thought. No, make that a feeling. Almost a presence somewhere in his mind.

  Molly was humming again.

  It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, he decided. In fact it had a certain comforting quality.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Molly murmured slee
pily. “You get used to it.”

  Harry stirred. “Get used to what?”

  But Molly did not answer. She was already fast asleep.

  21

  Olivia sipped thoughtfully at the cup of specially blended Assam tea Molly had just finished making. She glanced around the front room of Harry’s condominium, which was littered with several packing cartons full of books. “Do you know where they’ve taken him?”

  “No.” Molly poured tea for herself and sat back on the sofa. She curled one jean-clad leg under herself and gave Olivia a wry smile. “Maybe it’s better that way. I warned Josh about naked women bursting out of cakes, but that still leaves a lot of entertainment possibilities that I’d rather not contemplate too closely.”

  “Bachelor parties do have a certain reputation.”

  Molly made a face. “Don’t remind me. Talk about an archaic tradition. Must be a leftover from the Medieval days when the male members of the wedding party got the groom drunk and then pushed him into bed with the bride.”

  Olivia gave her a keen look. “So why did you insist that the Stratton and Trevelyan men throw a party for Harry?”

  “I think you can guess the answer to that.”

  Olivia met her eyes. “Yes. It doesn’t take a degree in psychology to figure out that you want Harry to feel that his family cares enough about him to call a truce for his sake.”

  “It’s the one thing he wants from them. The only thing he’s ever asked of them.”

  “And you made certain he got it. I have to admit, I’m amazed. I didn’t think there was any force on the face of the planet that could persuade the Strattons and the Trevelyans to put aside the feud even for a short time.”

  “The Strattons and the Trevelyans aren’t so tough. You just have to know how to deal with them.”

  Olivia studied her with sudden understanding. “You really do love Harry, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Has he—” Olivia broke off and looked away for a brief moment. “I’m sorry, this is a very personal question. You would be within your rights to tell me to mind my own business, but I can’t resist asking. Has he told you that he loves you?”