Destiny Bay Boxed Set vol. 2 (Books 4 - 6) (Destiny Bay Romances)

by Helen Conrad

  “Message for Mr. Rick Carrington,” the teenager said, holding out a sealed envelope.

  “Thanks,” Terry said, rummaging for money in her pocket. “I'll put it on his breakfast tray.”

  “I need a response immediately,” the boy insisted. “I was told to wait for the reply and take it back with me right away.”

  Terry looked at him, then at the envelope, wondering if it was from Rick's grandfather. There was no evidence of where it had come from. “He's asleep,” she said.

  The boy stood his ground. “The message is most urgent,” he said. “Please wake him.”

  Terry hesitated. She had no idea who the message was from. And she didn't relish the prospect of barging into Rick's bedroom. Chances were that Caren was still there.

  “Please,” the boy said again, and she bit her lip.

  “All right,” she decided at last. “Wait in the kitchen.”

  Taking the envelope, she raced up the stairs, then stood outside Rick's bedroom, steeling herself. She knocked sharply on the door. “Mr. Carrington?” she called.

  There was no answer.

  She knocked again. “Mr. Carrington? There's a message for you.”

  Still no answer. She would have to go in.

  She took a deep breath. If it had to be done, it might as well be done quickly. She turned the handle, flinging open the door and striding inside. Without glancing at the bed, she went straight to the drapes and pulled them open, letting the first rays of sun stream into the room.

  “Mr. Carrington, I have a message that was just delivered for you. It's said to be urgent and requires a reply.”

  “Where is it?” growled a sleepy voice from the depths of the covers.

  She continued to stare out the window. “I'll put it here on your dresser. ...”

  “No.” His voice was stronger now, in command. “Bring it to me. Bring it here.”

  She couldn't go any nearer. What if Caren was with him? “Please, Rick,” she began, but he cut her off.

  “Close the door,” he said coldly, “and bring it here.”

  She did as he'd ordered, too confused to think about what she was doing. “Here it is.” She held the note out, not looking at him.

  “Open it,” he said.

  “Rick...”

  “Open it,” he said again. “And read it to me.”

  Her gaze flashed up and she saw, with a surge of relief,

  that he was alone. Involuntarily she glanced toward the

  bathroom.

  “No, she's not there either,” Rick said quietly. “Read me the message.”

  With shaking hands, she unfolded the paper. “Good morning, Terry,” it read. “This is a ploy to get you into my bedroom at an opportune time. Clever, aren't I? Love, Rick.”

  She looked up at his grin, more confused than ever. “But... where's Caren?”

  “Gone.” He lay back against his pillow, his hands behind his head. “I brought her up last night to see Angelina....” He pointed out the doll, who seemed to have recuperated. “Then we had a long talk. I explained that, though we'd always be friends, we could never marry.” He grinned. “She was heartbroken, of course, but revived very quickly when I told her I'd wrangled an invitation for her to the hunting lodge of an earl we both know in England; He has three marriageable sons. She's leaving first thing this morning.”

  After what she'd gone through for the last twelve hours, it was a bit much to take. “Rick,” Terry said weakly, and then her knees buckled and she sat with a thump on the side of the bed.

  “That's the idea,” he encouraged, reaching for her. “I wanted you alone, so I set up the message to get you here.” He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. “Were you jealous?” he teased, beginning to pull at the tails of her shirt to free them from her skirt.

  “No,” she insisted, trying to tuck everything back that he'd pulled out, but quickly falling behind in the battle. “Not for a moment.”

  “No?” He began to work on her buttons, popping them open very cleverly, with only one hand. “That's disappointing. I was working so hard to make you jealous.”

  Despite all her efforts, he already had her blouse half off. Pulling her lower on the bed, he leaned forward and dropped a kiss in the valley between the two sides of her rib cage. “Weren't you, just a little?” he coaxed huskily.

  She was squirming, trying to get away, but his hands seemed to be everywhere. His tongue tickled its way across her stomach and then began a sensuous exploration a bit higher up.

  “Maybe just a bit,” she admitted breathlessly. How could she ignore the rocketing fireworks his touch set off in her?

  “Good.” He sounded infuriatingly smug. Her blouse was gone, her skirt was falling, and his thumb was hooked under the strap of her bra, pushing it slowly down to the curve of her shoulder. “Make love with me, Terry. It's been too long.”

  “Oh, no, Rick,” she protested, but without much conviction. “We can't.”

  “Yes,” he said firmly, his hand curling back the cup of her bra to reveal the full, creamy breast, “we can.”

  “No, no, we can't. ...”

  But they could. And they did.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN:

  The Night They Were Dancing….

  The day of the Waltz Away Ball finally arrived. Terry was nervous, but satisfied. She'd worked hard and all that effort had paid off. She was confident the ball would come off without a hitch.

  “How many extra servants have been hired?” her father asked as she made her last call to check with him.

  “Plenty,” she assured him. “Most of them are arriving before noon, so I'll be prepared to drill them all.”

  “Be sure you take care in their room arrangements,” he commented. “You won't get decent work out of anyone who thinks he's being slighted.”

  “I'll be sure to do that. Now—how are you feeling?”

  “Never better. I was saving this little fact to tell you after you'd triumphed at the ball, but I might as well tell you now. I'm planning to arrive at Mar Vista on Monday to take over from you. At last you can get back to your normal life.”

  Terry's lips curved in an emotionless smile. “Wonderful,” she said, forcing cheer. “I'll be looking forward to it.”

  After hanging up she stared at the wall for a long moment. It was finally here. She would have to face reality.

  She'd be leaving, and she would probably never see Rick again.

  Desperately, she tried to think of ways to keep her father away, but good sense dampened those plans. There was no getting around it. The summer was almost over.

  She was heavily involved in last minute preparations when Aunt Julia came whirling in from a trip downtown with news and could hardly wait to tell everyone. ““Well if this doesn’t beat all!” she exclaimed as she came in the front door. “Rick, you’ve got to hear this one.”

  She sank into a chair and began to fan her warm cheeks with a piece of the mail she’d picked up. “I’ve just been down talking to Jennifer Thornton. Oh, I mean Jennifer Carrington of course. The pretty girl Reid married. The one who runs that cute gourmet shop.”

  “Yes, I know who you mean,” Rick said impatiently, while Terry pretended to be looking for something in a desk drawer in order to have an excuse to stay and hear the news. “What happened?”

  “Yesterday everybody was at Mickey Adams wedding to Robert whatever his name is.” She wrinkled her brow. “Now, why weren’t we invited?”

  “We were,” Rick told her. “We didn’t go. I’ll have Yardley send a present.”

  “Don’t bother,” Julia said, turning to include Terry in her dramatic presentation. “From what Jennifer said, everything was wonderful. Flowers everywhere. Roses at the ends of the pews. Lovely voices singing lovely songs. And then it came time for the ceremony. Everyone was sitting there, waiting. Robert and his best man were at the altar, along with the minister, waiting. The Wedding March boomed out. Everyone turned.” She paused for emphasis. “But no bride
appeared.”

  “What?” Rick frowned. “She didn’t show up?”

  Julia nodded wisely. “Not only did she not show up. Neither did Tag Carrington. And his boat is missing from the marina.”

  “Wow.” Rick looked dumbfounded. “Are they sure that’s where she went?”

  Julia shrugged. “It appears likely. They say Tag took Meggie over to Matt and Janet’s and asked them to look after her for a few days. And then he took off with a determined look on his face.” She gave them both a significant look. “He hasn’t been seen since.”

  “He kidnapped Mickey?” Terry guessed, shocked. Tag had seemed unhappy with the relationship Mickey had with Robert, but she could hardly believe he would have done something like that.

  “Looks like.”

  Terry shook her head and turned to search Rick’s eyes. “Do you think it was against her will?”

  They all pondered that for a moment, then Rick shook his head. “Nah. She’s crazy about him. Always has been.” He shrugged. “I do think he probably showed up at the church and threw her over his shoulder, but I also think she was hoping against hope that he would do exactly that. She’s loved him for years.”

  “So she went willingly,” Terry said softly, looking out at the blue sky. “Following her heart.”

  “Well, Robert isn’t buying that,” said Aunt Julia. “He’s spittin’ nails and about to go after them himself because he thinks the police are dragging their feet.”

  “Wow.” Rick looked at Terry. “That’s some story. Hope it comes out okay in the end.” He shook his head. “When you follow your heart, sometimes you end up sleepwalking off a cliff. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

  Terry turned to look at him.

  “Mr. Cynical,” she murmured, but she had to admit, he could be right. After all, if she was to follow her own heart—yup, right off a cliff. She had to be more careful than that. Disaster lurked at every turn.

  She was in her room a short time later when there came a knock on her door.

  “Come in.”

  Rick entered, holding a gown on a hanger. She looked up in surprise. “What's that?”

  His smile was a bit wary. “Your dress for tonight.”

  She rose. “But I'll have to wear something more conservative than that,” she told him quickly. “The butler...”

  He hung the gown on a hook and tore away the protective plastic. She gaped at it. She'd never seen anything so beautiful before in her life. It was a swirling pastel confection of lace and taffeta. She'd never dreamed she would wear a dress like it.

  “Oh Rick,” she breathed, walking up to touch it. “It's... it's...”

  “It's yours,” he told her. “Wear it tonight.” The look on his face told her he had something else to say that he wasn't sure she was going to like. “I want you by my side, Terry,” he said softly. “I want you to enjoy the ball. So I've hired another butler to take care of things this evening.”

  “What?” The full shock of his statement took a moment to register. After all she'd done! She'd planned this as the showcase for her success. Now he meant to take it away from her just at the crucial moment. “You can't do that!”

  He drew her into his arms. “I'm doing it for you, Terry. I want everyone to meet you as you are and see you as a woman, not as a servant in my house.”

  “But…all the work I’ve done! I wanted to show everyone I could do it and I did. Now you’re going to take my moment away from me?”

  “No. Not at all.” His kiss was persuasive. “I just want you to be a part of the fun of it. Please, Terry. Do it—for me.”

  His kisses always made her dizzy. She hated this, but at the same time, she wanted to make him happy. Wasn’t that the point of it all? “Can I still be in charge in case there are any problems... ?”

  “Of course. But the man I hired will do the announcing and take the coats and all of that. I want you free to have fun.” His grin was warm. “I want to be able to dance with you.”

  She had to admit it would look pretty funny to see the master of the house dancing with the butler. “All right,” she told him, carefully hiding her disappointment. “It might be fun at that.”

  An hour later, while she was counting out silverware, Aunt Julia came breezing through the room, stopping only long enough to say, “Did Rick tell you?”

  Terry sighed. “About the new butler? Yes, he told me.”

  “No, about his grandfather. He's coming to the ball.”

  Terry turned, horrified. “What?”

  “He's arriving tonight. We're all in a tizzy. He always does things like this, you know. Never a word to anyone until the last moment!”

  Julia spun away, leaving Terry to lean against the table, anger rising in her breast. Was that why Rick wanted to keep her “at his side”? He knew his grandfather was coming. He didn't think she could cut it with the old man around. And he wasn't about to chance it.

  That hurt. She'd been doing a great job. She knew it, Rick knew it. Why didn't he trust her? She knew he was obsessed with having everything perfect when his grandfather arrived. But why didn't he think she could make it so?

  She wanted to have it out with him, but there was no chance. Every time she found him, he was surrounded by others, usually workers hired to create the setting for the Waltz Away Ball.

  The grounds looked marvelous. Gardeners and landscapers had worked for weeks laying out flower beds around the fountain, Viennese style. Carpenters had been working on the bandstand. Electricians had strung lights everywhere. Rented tables filled the dining room and its adjacent hall. Streamers and balloons decorated the balk room. Catering people swarmed in the kitchen, preparing light food that would soon fill the banquet tables. The ice sculptor had arrived and was awaiting the delivery of the huge block of ice he would transform into a dolphin for the center of the punch bowl.

  Even the new butler was in residence. His name was Percy Sinclair, and Terry was as gracious as she could be to him under the circumstances. But he had shifty eyes and she didn't trust him to take care of her ball. The culmination of all her work now rested on the shoulders of a hired man who perhaps looked more like a butler than she did, but wouldn't care the way she did.

  Erica was turning out to be a big help, but Jeremy was constantly underfoot, and finally Terry asked Charles to take him into town for a few hours.

  “What will I do with him?” Charles asked.

  “I don't know. Buy him something to keep him busy.” Terry dug into the household money and handed a large bill to the chauffeur. “Just don't you dare bring him back until just before the ball begins.”

  She went up to her room to put on her dress and fix her hair, and when she was finished she looked in the mirror and smiled with surprise. She looked gorgeous.

  Rick thought so too. When she came down the stairway he looked up to catch sight of her.

  “Wow,” he said, leaning close when she neared him. “I don't know if I dare leave you here alone while I run to the airport to get Grandfather.”

  “Are you leaving now?” she said, and suddenly her heart was in her throat.

  He nodded. “Charles has the car, so I'll pick him up in mine.”

  “Oh.” She'd forgotten about that when she told Charles not to come back too soon. “I hope he likes to ride in sports cars.”

  Rick shook his head. “Actually, he hates the things. But he'll have to make do this time.”

  She regretted not having thought of that but she didn't have much time to worry. There were a thousand little details to be attended to in the last hour before the ball was due to begin. On top of that, the new butler was worrying her more and more. Though he looked the picture of English civility, she heard him speak to one of the kitchen help in language she didn't like, and when she came near him she thought she smelled liquor on his breath.

  “You do understand there is to be no drinking on the job?” she asked sharply.

  “Oh yes, Miss Yardley,” he responded. “I wouldn't t
hink of such a thing.”

  There was no time to do anything about it now. The guests were beginning to arrive. Aunt Julia and Erica formed the short receiving line and Percy manned the door. Terry made a quick pass of the ballroom, checking on everything. The orchestra had arrived and was tuning up. The lights were on. Excitement buzzed all around her. Stopping for just a moment, she tried to memorize how it all looked. She'd never been so proud of anything in her whole life.

  Suddenly a voice called to her from the shadows of the veranda. “Hey, gorgeous. Save the last dance for me, okay?”

  She spun and stared into a dark, handsome face that reminded her of Rick—particularly the impudent grin. He wore a tuxedo with an air of outrageous arrogance and his eyes shone with mischief.

  “Johnny,” she guessed automatically.

  “Give the little lady the prize cigar,” he answered. “And I'll bet you're Terry, the spoilsport who's made Angelina the loneliest lady in the trade.”

  She flushed, wondering just how much Rick had told him. Then she remembered who he was and what he was interrupting. Rick had told Terry about relations between Johnny and Calvin Carrington. They were anything but cordial. In fact, Calvin had once gone for his shotgun while Johnny made a run for his car.

  “What are you doing here?” she cried. “Did you know your grandfather is coming?”

  He paled visibly. “No kidding?” He grimaced. “Do you suppose he'll toss me out on my ear in front of everyone?” Considering for a moment, he shook his head. “No, probably not. He is getting on in years, and he might not be able to throw me as far as he used to. I'll bet he'll hire soldiers to string me up at dawn. What do you think?”

  “I think you should get out of here while the getting is good.”

  He pursed his lips and shook his head regretfully.

  “Sorry, old sport. Can't be done. Gotta face the music sometime, and it might as well be now.”