by Janet Dailey
All the while Annette had been observing the changes in him, Josh had been noticing her sophisticated appearance. He took special note of her hairstyle, dress and makeup. When his inspection was concluded, cynicism flickered in his expression and Annette realized he considered her appearance to be an adolescent's version of dress-up.
She was reminded of her parting declaration to him two days earlier that she wasn't a child. Fate was offering her a ready-made opportunity to prove it.
There are occasions when time has a way of appearing to stand still. Although it seemed they had looked at each other for long minutes, in fact, only seconds had passed.
“Good evening, Annette.” Josh broke the silence initially.
“Good evening.” She nodded demurely, poise sweeping through her with remarkable strength. The moment of pleasant revenge was at hand and she didn't intend to let it escape. “I'd like you to meet my family, Mr. Lord."
A dark eyebrow arched briefly at the formal term of address, cool amusement glinting in his eyes. Then Josh was dragging his gaze from her and turning to speak to someone else.
“I'll join you in a few minutes,” he said, drawing Annette's attention to the two middle-aged men in business suits standing patiently beside him, while the restaurant hostess hovered close by to show them to their table.
Before that moment she hadn't been aware anyone was with him. It staggered her to discover she could be so unobservant, but Josh's presence had a way of blinding her to everything else. There was a murmur of acceptance from the two men as they moved away to follow the hostess.
With a graceful turn, Annette included her family in her meeting with Josh. Courteously her father stood up as she began the introductions, beginning with him.
“Dad, I'd like you to meet Joshua Lord.” Then she reversed it. “Mr. Lord, this is my father, Jordan Long."
The two men shook hands, exchanging polite phrases. Her father was unusually reserved, his gray eyes sharp in their inspection of Josh, measuring him without revealing his ultimate conclusion. That in itself warned Annette that her father was not favorably impressed with Josh. It made her a little uneasy.
She continued the round of introductions, progressing from Kathleen to Marsha and concluding with Robby. It was her little brother who introduced, in his ingenuous way, the information she wanted Josh to learn.
“Are you here for Annette's birthday party?” Robby wanted to know. “Did you bring her a present?” He didn't wait for an answer. “Show him what I made you, Annette."
The line of Josh's mouth was half-curved in a smile when his dark gaze met hers. It slid to the table and the abandoned gift wrappings at her place setting.
“You did mention you had a birthday coming up,” Josh remembered. “I didn't realize it was today. When you're young, it's a cause for celebration. Happy birthday, Annette."
“Thank you.” Inwardly she raged at his reference to her being young, but she concealed it, except for a brief silvery flare of temper in her eyes.
“Show him what I gave you,” Robbie repeated his request, paying no attention to Kathleen's attempts to hush him.
“Robby drew me a picture.” Annette reached across the table to pick up the drawing, motivated by her own self-interest to keep the subject of her birthday alive.
“It's very good.” Josh obligingly admired it.
“She's going to hang it on her wall when we get home,” Robby informed him proudly.
“Robby, can you tell Mr. Lord how old I am today?” Annette asked, and slid a complacently mocking glance at Josh.
“She's twenty years old,” her little brother readily supplied the information. Josh studied her with a sharply narrowed look. “I can count to twenty,” Robby declared. “Do you want me to count it for you?"
Annette held Josh's gaze, partially screening it with her lashes. “Out of the mouths of babes,” she murmured for his ears alone.
While Marsha was convincing Robby that it wasn't necessary for him to count all the way to twenty, a mixture of reactions ran across Josh's features—skepticism, shock, irritation and a glittering kind of amusement that promised to get even.
“So you're twenty years old,” Josh murmured.
“It's hard to believe, isn't it?” she smoothly taunted him.
His mouth twisted dryly. “I guess daddy's little girl has grown up."
“In some people's eyes, we always remain little girls.” Annette was subtly asking whether Josh still regarded her in that light.
Her father inserted an agreement with that opinion, simultaneously confirming her age. “Ten or twenty, Annette will always be my little girl."
“Since I'm not in your position,” Josh told her father, indirectly responding to Annette's subtle question, “it makes a difference."
Her father's gaze narrowed in veiled suspicion, sensing some silent message had been passed. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Lord, but we shouldn't keep you from your guests any longer."
It was easy for Annette to read between the lines of her father's polite words. Josh was being invited to leave. She didn't offer any objections, her purpose achieved. Josh appeared to take the dismissal well, although his eyes mocked her slightly because her father was still vetting the men in her life.
“Happy birthday, Annette,” Josh repeated, then moved away to rejoin his party.
From her chair, Annette had a clear view of the table where Josh was seated at right angles to her. She could observe him all evening without half trying.
“Is that man your boyfriend?” Robby asked.
“I wouldn't exactly call him that, no,” Annette replied, aware of her father's studied look. “He's a man friend."
“It's getting late.” Kathleen deftly altered the subject, which she realized was a sensitive issue to her husband, by reminding him that Robby's bedtime was quickly approaching. “Perhaps we should order."
“Yes, of course,” he agreed absently, and signaled the waiter to bring menus to the table.
While the waiter was passing the menus around, the wine steward approached the table with a wine bucket and stand—and an iced magnum of champagne. He set it next to Annette's chair. Her father's gaze narrowed on it with displeasure.
“We didn't order that,” he informed the steward.
“No, sir,” the man agreed, and expertly popped the cork. “It's compliments of Mr. Lord.” With a towel wrapped around the bottle, he splashed some in a glass for Annette. “Madam?” It was a veiled request for her approval.
As she looked across the dining room to Josh's table, she lifted the glass to her mouth. Josh was watching her, their eyes meeting across the distance. Annette held the glass close to her lips, not immediately sipping the champagne as she inhaled its heady bouquet and let the bubbles tickle her nose.
Josh raised his drink in a silent toast to her. When he took a drink of it, Annette quivered with the disturbing sensation that he was drinking the essence of her. A little shaken, she lowered her gaze and sipped at the champagne, its alcoholic effervescence tingling down her throat.
“It's very good,” she commented, assuring the steward of the champagne's excellence.
After he filled her glass, the steward poured champagne for the others. Robby fussed because he didn't get any, but Kathleen distracted him with the menu, helping him choose his evening meal.
“You're looking quite pleased with yourself, Annette,” her father remarked with narrowed interest.
“It's my birthday,” she reminded him, as if that were the reason.
But he wasn't buying it. “That didn't seem to matter earlier."
“That was before I opened my presents,” Annette countered.
“That was also before Joshua Lord stopped by the table,” he murmured.
“Daddy, you sound just like a father,” she chided.
The waiter returned to take their order, and Annette was relieved to have the conversation changed. Her father remained quiet throughout the meal, but he didn't mention Joshu
a Lord again. He was never out of Annette's mind, however, or her sight. And more than once, Josh looked in her direction, which only added to the soft glow about her.
When it came time to leave, the magnum of champagne was still more than half-full. “Would madam like to take it with her?” the steward inquired with exaggerated formality.
“Please,” Annette answered with a nod.
“What are you going to do with that?” her father questioned with veiled sharpness.
“Take it back to the room and celebrate my birthday,” she answered him with breezy innocence. “The night is young. Who knows how late Marsha and I will stay up?"
He didn't look completely pleased or satisfied with her explanation, but he didn't belabor the point. With the addition of the champagne bottle to her other presents, Annette accepted her sister's offer to help carry some of them. As the family left the table, Annette smiled across the room to Josh. There was a responding movement of his mouth and something else in his look that Annette was certain she interpreted correctly.
At the hotel room she shared with Marsha, she and her sister parted company from her parents and Robby as they continued to their own suite of rooms around the corner. Inside the room, Marsha laid her present to Annette on the dresser.
“Why don't you try your new outfit on and see how it fits?” Marsha suggested.
“I'll wait till tomorrow,” Annette replied absently, preoccupied with other plans. She stopped in front of the mirror and inspected her reflection, using her fingers to touch up her hairstyle.
Marsha paused curiously to watch. “Are you really going to drink that champagne tonight?"
“Part of it.” Annette opened her silver evening purse and took out the tube of lipstick. Uncapping it, she twisted the stick up and began outlining her lips with its dusky rose color.
“What are you doing?” Marsha frowned.
“Putting on lipstick. What does it look like I'm doing?” She blotted it with a tissue.
“Why?” Which is what Marsha had meant initially.
“Why do you think?” Annette countered, and picked up the champagne bottle and a glass the hotel supplied to the rooms.
“Are you going out?” Marsha stared, already guessing the answer was affirmative but asking it anyway. “Where?"
“To meet Josh, of course.” Annette started toward the door, the chiffon skirt swishing about her shapely legs.
“But ... how...? When...?” Marsha faltered over the questions, unable to complete any of them.
“There wasn't any arrangement made for us to meet.” She guessed the cause of her sister's confusion. “But he'll be waiting for me just the same.” With a Cheshire smile on her face, she turned to wink at Marsha. “Don't wait up for me."
She was sweeping out the door before Marsha could recover enough to question how Annette knew Josh would be there. This time she was really worried about the kind of trouble her sister was getting involved in. She was playing in the adult leagues now, and the consequences could be serious.
WITH ROBBY TUCKED IN for the night, Kathleen moved quietly out of her son's darkened room and into the larger adjoining room where she and Jordan slept. He was standing at the window, looking out into the night. His suit jacket and tie were thrown across the bed. Kathleen started to go hang them up, but something in his brooding stance pulled her to Jordan instead.
Approaching from behind, she slid her arms around his middle and felt him stiffen an instant in surprise at her touch, then relax. She laid her cheek against his back, enjoying the warmth of his body.
“A penny for your thoughts?” she murmured.
He stirred restlessly. She loosened her encircling arms as he turned away from the window to face her. His glance touched her, cynically gray and thoughtful.
“I have a feeling Joshua Lord is worth a lot more than a penny,” Jordan replied dryly, and curved an arm around her shoulders to hug her to his side.
Kathleen smoothed a hand across his shirtfront, feeling the hard muscles of his chest beneath the material. It was a pleasant intimacy to touch him like this—to have the freedom of loving him.
“He's probably worth two pennies at least,” Kathleen agreed on a playful note. Her expression became absently thoughtful as she remembered the meeting. “He's a very attractive man."
A finger was hooked under her chin to tilt her head up for Jordan's bemused study. “You thought so, did you?” he accused lightly.
“Yes,” she admitted calmly, and a light danced amid the olive flecks in her hazel eyes. “Jealous?"
“Should I be?” he asked, but he wasn't really serious.
“No.” Kathleen had no desire to let him wonder. Their time together was too precious to waste it playing games when they could be loving.
As if hearing her silent thoughts, Jordan kissed her warmly yet briefly, betraying that his mind was still concentrating on something else. His caressing hand wound its fingers into her auburn hair and pressed her head against his shoulder. Bending his head slightly, he rubbed his jaw against her hair.
“Annette was certainly in a better mood after she saw him,” he remarked with seeming idleness.
“She seemed to be,” Kathleen agreed.
“Has she said anything to you about this Lord character?” For all his attempt to be casual, there was a stiffness in his words.
“No.” Kathleen half smiled but was careful not to let Jordan see it—or suspect.
“What do you suppose is going on between them?” he asked.
“Assuming, of course, that something is going on between them,” Kathleen said, reminding him that they didn't know whether there was or not. “Annette said something the other day that Joshua Lord considered her to be too young."
“That was a red herring.” Jordan dismissed it as having no significance. “Their age difference isn't any greater than ours."
“I suppose not,” she agreed. “Then what bothers you? I'm not sure that I understand."
“Didn't you see the way he looked at her?” he demanded. “He wants her. I saw it in his eyes."
Her chin quivered with her effort to hold back the laughter, but she failed. It spilled softly from her throat. There was irritation in the grip of his hands as he held her away from him. His challenging look indicated he was anything but amused by her reaction.
“Did I say something funny?” He insisted on an explanation.
“I'm sorry, but you sounded so righteous.” She really tried to contain her amusement, but it danced in her eyes. “What do you think was in your eyes when you looked at me?"
“That's different,” Jordan replied impatiently.
The dimples in her cheeks deepened with her effort to hide her silent laughter. “Naturally,” she murmured. “Annette is your daughter—which makes all the difference in the world."
For an instant he looked angry, then amused chagrin stole over his expression. “I sounded very fatherly, didn't I?"
“Yes, you did,” Kathleen smiled widely.
“I can't help worrying that he's too experienced for her,” he explained.
“I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. It's probably just a holiday romance.” Kathleen shrugged her lack of concern. “We've been here—what—two weeks? And we'll be leaving in another couple of weeks. What can happen in a month's time?"
“If you are trying to reassure me, you just failed,” Jordan smiled. “Or have you forgotten that we fell in love in less than a month?"
“Remind me,” she invited, and Jordan gathered her into his arms.
Chapter Six
THE MOONLIGHT SHIMMERED on the glassy surface of the Atlantic Ocean while the night-lights of Wrightsville Beach faded the stars in the sky. The air was fresh and soft, washed clean by the sea breezes of the Atlantic. The languid warmth of the day clung to the night.
On the curving edge of the beach, Annette paused and balanced on one foot to slip off a high-heeled sandal, then shifted her position to remove the other. With the champagne bot
tle in one hand and her shoes and glass in the other, she wandered onto the beach in her nylon-stockinged feet. The fine grains of sand were cool beneath her toes when she stopped short of the tidemark to gaze at the calm waters of the sea.
The unhurried sound of strolling footsteps broke the stillness of the night. Turning from the waist up, Annette looked back toward the hotel. A warm run of pleasure raced through her when she recognized the shadowed male figure as Josh. His stride didn't change as he angled across the sand to her.
A little more than a foot away, he stopped. There was a serenity about his expression, but a disturbing light burned in his eyes. Without the advantage of the added height her high-heeled sandals gave her, Annette had to tip her head back to gaze into his eyes.
“I knew you'd be here.” His voice was quietly strong.
“I knew you'd come,” Annette replied.
Neither of them found it necessary to explain the source of their knowledge, some primitive recess of their minds that was purely instinct. It was enough that they had both listened to it.
“Would you like some champagne?” She indicated the bottle with a lifting gesture of her hand. “I only brought one glass so we'll have to share. Do you mind?"
“No."
Josh took the bottle from her and worked the cork out with his thumbs. It made a small popping sound when it came free. Annette held out the glass for him to fill, her shoes dangling from a finger by their heel straps.
“Ladies first,” Josh said, indicating he would wait to drink after her.
Annette transferred the glass to her other hand and carried it to her lips, sipping the now tepid wine while she continued to regard him. A heady excitement licked through her veins, but it had nothing to do with the alcoholic content of the champagne.
He watched her drink, his lazily sensuous gaze taking note of her shining lips pursed to the rim of the glass. It tracked the liquid down her throat as she swallowed and it stopped in the vicinity of her breasts. Annette quivered inwardly with the sensation that Josh could see through the chiffon material covering them. The impression was lost when he lifted his gaze back to her face.