The Language of Love

by Saunders, Jean

  It was the way so many evenings ended, with a few kisses and caresses, and the neat disposal of an ardent man, but those other men had never meant anything to her, and Annette knew instinctively that Pieter could be very important in her life, if she chose to let him be. She was suddenly afraid he would think her too responsive now, too ready to forget all the objections she’d raised earlier. If he was leading up to something more than kisses now, she suddenly knew she couldn’t bear it, for it would prove that he thought of her as nothing more than a one-night affair, and probably a love-starved woman who was easy prey for an attractive man. She couldn’t bear for Pieter to think of her like that, especially when it was so far from the truth.

  She felt the caress of his hands as they wandered down her spine and eased smoothly over the curves of her hips.

  “Pieter, no,’’ she murmured. He let her go at once, and picked up his own coat, slung carelessly over a chair.

  “You’re right. It’s time I went, and it’s better that I decline coffee after all. It’s not coffee I need to warm me tonight, and it’s too soon, isn’t it, my love?’’

  He laid his lips against hers one last time, almost without passion, but the sensuality in him was more than a match for her own. Annette felt almost weak, like a young girl in love for the first time. She pushed the sensation away with an effort.

  “Yes, it’s best if you go now.’’ She tried to sound her usual social self, and knew she only succeeded in sounding artificial. “Perhaps we’ll meet again before you leave England.’’

  He tipped up her chin, his sensitive fingers caressing its soft curve. She felt the pounding of her heart begin again.

  “I leave for Amsterdam on Tuesday morning from Heathrow, and I’ll be very busy until then, so it’s unlikely. But I’ll call you on Monday evening to arrange when I’ll pick you up. You can be ready to come to Amsterdam by then, can’t you?’’

  The nerve of him!

  “Yes,’’ she said weakly. For Elena, she told herself feverishly.

  She hadn’t moved from the spot when she heard his car engine start up. She rushed to the window to watch him go, but the car had already turned the corner, and only the cold black water of the Thames, silver-edged by moonlight, met her eyes.

  She couldn’t decide whether Pieter Van Ness was a deeply caring sort of man or one clever enough to know exactly when to stop a seduction. Either way, he had succeeded in leaving her nerves at a feverish pitch.

  Chapter Three

  Annette wouldn’t let herself question whether or not she was doing the right thing. Her assistant, Margaret, was openly enchanted by the whole situation, and convinced that at last Annette had found a man to replace Tony, though she knew better than to hint at such a thing.

  For herself, on that Saturday night, Annette had lain sleepless in her bed for hours, trying to conjure up the images of Tony in her mind as she often did when she was disturbed, but this time the images were misty, and she couldn’t remember his face as clearly as usual, because there was always another face that intruded. A face with strong bones and clear gray eyes with little laughter lines fanning out from them. A face that was rugged and sensual and mature and that took away, by its unbidden presence in her mind, some of the sweetness of the heady young love she and Tony had shared.

  She knew better than to think she could live the rest of her life on dreams, but until now she had always been able to put away the need for any new deeper commitment. She was a success, she had many friends.

  Even though she admitted she was sometimes lonely, and work and mere friendship weren’t enough, there had been a kind of shield between herself and her own desires that enabled her to keep men at a safe distance. Now, in a single day, Pieter Van Ness had broken through that shield as if it didn’t exist. As if he had splintered her defenses with the total destruction that the ice had splintered on the pond that had taken Tony from her.

  She had never really examined her own feelings, or considered that she was using the memory of her brief marriage as a measure of the love she could give to anyone else. She had idealized the love she and Tony had shared, until it had become so perfect in her mind she could no longer have said if there were any flaws in it at all. And in her heart she resented any man who came between her and the perfect image she guarded so jealously. She resented Pieter for stirring up emotions she’d thought were safely buried, and reducing her to someone who doubted herself and her own vulnerability.

  But she would go to Amsterdam. She couldn’t stay away after Elena had asked her to create something beautiful for her wedding. It was something she had to do, in spite of, and not because of, Pieter Van Ness. She repeated the words to herself, like a creed.

  From the air, Amsterdam looked like a toy town. Annette looked down eagerly from the descending plane as Pieter leaned across to point out the city as they approached. She saw the tall slim red-brick buildings with the regimented canals said to have nearly a thousand romantic bridges spanning them, forming a spectacular semicircle far below. It was quite a small, compact city, and it seemed hardly any time at all that they had crossed it and were landing at Schiphol Airport. From there, after the necessary formalities, they were speeding back toward the city in Pieter’s comfortable car that had been parked at the airport for his return.

  “I hope you’ll enjoy our city, Annette. In fact, with your interest in flowers, I’m sure you’ll like Holland, for we’re a nation of flower growers! And you’ll give me the pleasure of showing you our beautiful city, won’t you?”

  “Don’t forget, I’m only here for a few days,” she countered quickly. “I must leave on Sunday, as we’ve a big conference to prepare the floral arrangements for next week. I’m a working girl, Pieter, and after all, that’s the main purpose of my visit, isn’t it? To discuss with Elena the choice of flowers for her wedding. I know you are a businessman too, so I don’t expect you to waste your time showing a visitor around –”

  “You also talk too much,” he said calmly. One hand left the steering wheel to rest for a moment on her thigh in its red trouser suit that was warm and smart at the same time. “Stop making every objection you can think of for my not seeing you! If I hadn’t been so tied up in London, I’d have visited your flat every evening I was there. You know that, don’t you?”

  Annette ran her tongue over her dry lips. There was an air of inevitability in his voice that alarmed her a little.

  “I’m sure Elena will think me very rude if I don’t spend most of my time with her–”

  “It’s the middle of the term, so she will be at home instead of teaching at the school,” Pieter agreed. “But Nels is also staying at the house for a week, and you won’t want to be the third wheel all the time, will you? As for me – I’m not an employee, Annette. The boss can do as he likes – you must know that, or you wouldn’t have flown here with me on such short notice. It puts us in a rather privileged position, doesn’t it?”

  It united them, too, Annette thought. The whole situation seemed to be undergoing a subtle change with every word he said. Elena and Nels would be preoccupied in their own romantic world, and Pieter had every intention of acting the escort to the visitor from England. She had the strangest feeling she was being manipulated, although she and Pieter had met only three days ago. She ignored the fact that he had been almost constantly in her thoughts ever since. She went off on another tack.

  “I’m sure you have other female friends who will be wanting your company,” she said pointedly, trying not to sound as if she was fishing for information.

  Pieter grinned. “Naturally. In fact, you’ll be meeting two of them this afternoon. They’re going to be at the house when we arrive.”

  “I see.” She stared straight ahead, not noticing how her hands clenched together in her lap. He was a conceited man on top of everything else, she raged, parading his female conquests in front of her as soon as she arrived, as if to prove he had no shortage of women in his life. She was annoyed to find it mattered so m
uch.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I couldn’t stand their bright chatter for too long. I prefer a woman who’s had some experience of life, and Gerda and Lise are much too immature for my taste.”

  Annette’s mouth dropped open with outrage. She glared at the sharp-etched profile of the man alongside her, and then to her surprise he burst out laughing, and she realized he’d been teasing her to test her reaction. And how she’d blown it! Her lips clamped together. She’d been perfectly happy in her chosen way of life until Pieter Van Ness had stormed into it, she thought savagely, and now she was in danger of having her world turned upside down by every provocative thing he said. She didn’t like the role of vulnerable romantic instead of the competent woman she was.

  “I look forward to meeting Gerda and Lise,” she said coolly. “I only hope I shan’t appear like Methuselah beside them!”

  “You might, but I shouldn’t let it bother you,” Pieter said, to her fury. Her eyes flashed blue fire at him. He looked at her for longer than he should, considering he was driving along a fast highway. When he spoke, his voice had lost its banter. “My God, but you’re so beautiful you take my breath away,” he muttered. “Even the most perfect flower must pale into insignificance beside you.”

  The old-world Dutch charm with which he occasionally treated her stopped Annette from the waspish reply she was about to throw at him. At such times, there was no doubting Pieter’s sincerity, and there was no adequate answer she could think of. Instead she gazed out the window of the car, to where the outskirts of the city were coming into view, and she felt a stirring of excitement at seeing new places and new customs, and most of all, at seeing Elena again.

  “We’ll go straight to the house, I think,” Pieter said. “And then we’ll take a tour of the city tonight when you and Elena are through with all your talking!”

  “It’ll take more than one day.” Annette grinned, feeling easier again now they were on less personal topics. It was almost as if there was no halfway station between her and Pieter Van Ness. Either they must behave as if they were no more than passing acquaintances, cool and polite to the point of coldness, or... But she wouldn’t think of the alternative.

  The traffic became more dense as they approached Amsterdam, and Pieter concentrated on weaving the car in and out of a confusion of little streets and wider highways. At last he turned into a cobbled square lined with trees that would be glorious in the spring. The square contained elegant houses of the distinctive red brick, with the marvelous gables that were a feature of Dutch houses. Along the canals the houses were tall and slender, but here, where there was more space, the houses had an air of wealth and of history, and it was out of the front door of one of them that Annette saw Elena come rushing down the front steps to greet her. Seconds later, she was clasped in her friend’s embrace and kissed on both cheeks.

  “Oh, at last, Annette! Nels says I’ve driven him mad for the last hour, wishing the time away until you arrived. Oh, but it’s so good to see you, and looking so marvelous as always. You make me feel dowdy!” Annette laughed, knowing Elena could never be that! She wasn’t a beautiful girl, but she had the strong bone structure that was so like Pieter’s, and striking blond hair, in complete contrast to her brother’s. She and Annette were about the same age, and had felt an instant empathy toward each other when they had met in London. Annette had taken the stranger under her wing during the six months she had visited.

  “Go on inside before you catch your death of cold,” Pieter urged them both. “I’ll bring the cases.” Annette noted that he brought his own as well as hers. She had assumed that Pieter lived at his own hotel, but she soon discovered that he still lived at the family home which had belonged to the Van Nesses for two hundred years, and went into the city daily like any other businessman.

  As they entered the hallway of the house, a smiling elderly woman wearing a spotless starched white apron over a black dress came forward.

  “Annette, this is Mrs. Luykens, our housekeeper, who looks after us all. My English friend, Mrs. Granger.” She smiled. “Though I’ve no doubt she’ll soon be calling you Annette. She’s been with us all for so many years, we don’t stand on any formality here, except with Pieter, whom Luykey insists on calling Mr. Pieter!”

  “Then I hope you’ll call me Annette right away,” she said quickly to the housekeeper. It felt strange enough to be here, in this house that was more gracious and important than she had envisaged when she’d first met Elena and heard about her home in Amsterdam. Annette had never imagined anything quite like this. Even in the hall, the furnishings were old and rich and of extreme good taste, with the inevitable flowers that every Dutchwoman loved on every surface and in every window. “Bringing the garden indoors” was how she’d heard Elena describe it.

  “I’ll take the cases up to the rooms, Mr. Pieter,” Mrs. Luykens said. Everyone spoke English so well, Annette realized. It was the second language here, taught in schools from an early age, but it put her own linguistic ability to shame.

  “And you must come and meet Nels, who’s being plagued by Gerda and Lise at the moment,” Elena said cheerfully.

  What were they – two female sirens? Annette thought suspiciously, feeling her heart do a small dive. She didn’t particularly want to meet two girls whom Pieter had described as “pretty butterflies” – especially when she was feeling grubby and disheveled from the journey, and would have liked time to tidy herself up and change her clothes – but Elena was bubbling over with the excitement of introducing her to everyone at once, and Annette didn’t have the heart to argue. Love had certainly made a difference to her friend, she saw. She exuded an air of confidence that came from being loved, and a new youthfulness that suddenly made Annette feel old.

  As they went into the beautiful south-facing lounge with its antique furniture and valuable paintings, Annette saw a fair-haired man who rose to greet her with a welcoming smile, to whom Elena went at once, to be encircled by his free arm. This was obviously Nels, and it was just as obvious that they were very much in love. As the thought registered in her mind, two small blond figures hurtled past her and threw themselves at Pieter, who protested loudly and laughingly that he couldn’t cope with more than one woman at a time.

  His eyes were on Annette as he spoke, all the laughter as much for her benefit as anyone else’s. For the “women” he held in his arms were all of eight years old, and jabbering excitedly in their own language, until Elena told them sternly that they had a guest in the house, and didn’t they know they were supposed to be practicing their English while they stayed with their aunt and uncle?

  “Gerda and Lise,” Pieter told Annette blandly. “Aren’t they little charmers? They’re Nels’s nieces, and are staying here for the week, partly for your benefit, since they’re to be the small attendants at the wedding, and Elena thought you’d want to see them when you discussed the flowers they’re to carry.”

  He was talking to cover her surprise, she realized. He knew exactly what she’d expected, and he was enjoying the situation! She agreed that the little girls were gorgeous. They were even more gorgeous to her eyes, if only because they weren’t at least ten years older! But they were very pretty, with pale blond hair and eyes that were almost green. Her professional eye was already imagining complementary colors for their flowers, though it all depended on the color and style of their dresses, of course. This wedding was going to be a delight to furbish.

  “I’ve heard nothing else but the fabulous Annette for weeks,” Nels was saying. He had a clipped, authoritative voice that was suited to his profession, but a kindliness in his smile belied any hint of severity. It was obvious that Elena adored him. “Now that I’ve met you, I see why Elena was so admiring of you!”

  “You’ll make her jealous if you go on like that,” Annette laughed. “I think it was my flair with flowers she meant.”

  “Not just that, Annette,” Elena put in, as Mrs. Luykens brought in a tray of tea and cakes for them all. “In fac
t, I’ve saved the best bit until you arrived. I know how busy you always are, and how you’ve never managed to get to Amsterdam before, but now that you’re here, I presume you will do my flowers, won’t you?”

  “Of course. Try to stop me!”

  “Then you must be here for the wedding, at least a few days before, and hopefully, some days afterward. And it would give Nels and me so much pleasure if you would be the matron of honor. Please say you will, Annette!”

  It was so unexpected, Annette felt her face flame with color, but it was a delighted surprise all the same.

  “I’d love to,” she said at once, without needing to think about it. So many times she’d provided the flowers for weddings and special occasions, and had stood back, never part of the scene that had taken up so much of her thoughts and artistic temperament. Now she would be a part of it all, and it was the most pleasurable part of her life. She had half-expected to be a guest, but this was different. She was being drawn into the closeness of Elena’s life...and that included Pieter’s too. She looked at him now, lounging against the elegant fireplace, from which logs sparked and glowed, throwing a soft warmth into the February day.

  “You knew all about this, of course?”

  “Naturally. But you didn’t expect me to give away my sister’s secret, did you? If you’d been too busy to come back with me this time, it was her trump card to lure you here. And believe me, it wasn’t just on account of the flowers.”

  She did believe him. The Van Ness brother and sister were the kind of people who liked you for yourself, regardless of your job or status. She knew it without being told.

  “I want to ask you everything at once,” she began, “but I’d love to shower and change my clothes if you don’t mind. Traveling always makes me feel tacky, and we have until next Sunday to talk. Isn’t it marvelous? We used to talk nonstop, didn’t we, Elena?”