A Gift of Love

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A Gift of Love Page 9

by Judith O'Brien


  She could set him on fire with a kiss, and tonight he intended to fan that fire and let it blaze out of control until it consumed them both. And then he was going to build it up again. He was going to make love to her until she pleaded with him to stop, and then he was going to make her plead for him to start again.

  They were meant for each other, he knew that now just as surely as he knew Corey didn’t want to trust him with her heart again. He could persuade her to give him her body tonight, but he needed time to persuade her to give him her heart, and she was trying not to give him that time. He already knew how amazingly steadfast she was once she made up her mind; she had been steadfast in her devotion to him years ago, and now she was just as dedicated to keeping her emotional distance from him. For the first time in his adult life, Spence felt powerless and fearful, because short of tying Corey up, he couldn’t think of a way to make her give him the time to prove himself.

  “Stop staring at me,” she said with a smothered laugh, without glancing in his direction.

  “How do you know I am?”

  “I can feel your eyes on me.”

  He heard the tiny tremble in her voice, and he smiled, then he returned to the discussion they’d been having about decision making. “What method do you prefer for making your decisions?”

  Corey looked over her shoulder. “Seriously?”

  “I’m very serious,” he said, his voice deep with meaning.

  Corey ignored that. “For the most part, I act on instinct and impulse. I seem to know in here” – she touched her heart – “what decisions are best. I’ve learned that from experience.”

  “That’s a risk way to handle important things.”

  “That’s the only way I can handle them at all. The truth is, if I spend too much time weighing alternatives, balancing the risk against the gain, I become paralyzed with uncertainty, and I end up making no decision at all. My judgment is best when I rely on impulse and instinct.”

  “That’s probably a part of your artistic nature.”

  Corey smiled. “Maybe, but it’s just as likely that it’s genetic. My mother is the same way. If you give either of us too much time to think, or offer us too many possibilities, we don’t act at all. She told me once that if my stepfather hadn’t rushed her into marriage before she could sort out all the drawbacks from the benefits, if she hadn’t been forced to act on instinct instead of logic, that she wouldn’t have married him at all.”

  Mentally, Spence filed that revealing information about Corey away for future use.

  “Is that why you’re never married – too many possibilities for failure and too much time to think about all of them?”

  “Could be,” Corey evaded, and quickly turned the discussion back to him. “What happened to your marriage?”

  “Nothing happened to it,” he said dryly, then he realized that he wanted her to understand. “Sheila’s parents had died the year before my grandmother died, and neither of us had anyone else. When we realized we had only that in common and very little else, we decided to get a divorce while we were still able to be civil to each other.”

  Corey opened her camera case and carefully slid the camera into its compartment, then she turned around and leaned against the dining room table, her forehead furrowed into a frown. “Spence… speaking of marriage, I wanted to talk to you about Joy. I don’t know that she’s certain she’s doing the right thing. Does she have anyone she confides in? I mean, where are her friends, her bridesmaids, her fiancé?”

  She half expected him to wave the matter off; instead he leaned his head back and ran his hand around behind his neck as if the subject somehow made his muscles tense. “Her mother has picked her friends, her bridesmaids, and her fiancé,” he said bitterly. “Joy isn’t stupid, she’s simply never been allowed to think for herself. Angela has made every decision for her and then inflicted them on her.”

  “What’s her fiancé like?”

  “In my opinion, he’s a twenty-five-year-old egomaniac who is marrying Joy because she’s pliable and will reinforce his own inflated opinion of himself. I also think he likes having a connection through marriage to German nobility. On the other hand, the last time I saw the two of them together, Joy seemed to like him very much.”

  “Will you talk to her?” Corey asked as she turned back and finished packing up her equipment.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice so near that his breath stirred the hair on her nape, then his lips grazed her skin and Corey felt an alarming jolt from even that simple contact. “Will you mind having a late dinner? Although I don’t give a damn about any of these people, I do have a duty as host to fulfill at the rehearsal dinner.”

  He’d asked her to join him downstairs during the rehearsal festivities, but she’d declined. Corey knew it was insanity to have dinner with him in her room, but she told herself she’d keep things under control, and that they weren’t even eating on the bed, they were eating on the balcony – “A late dinner is fine. It will give me a chance to take a nap.”

  “That’s a very good idea,” he said, and with such emphasis that Corey turned around and tried to see his face. He looked completely innocent.

  Thirteen

  ALTHOUGH COREY’S BALCONY FACED THE SIDE LAWN, ANOTHER set of her windows offered a perfect view of the party taking place on the terrace below and an ideal chance to observe Spence without fear of having him know it. It occurred to her that she’d been with him for only two days and she was right back where she’d begun – watching for a glimpse of him. Sighing, she leaned her shoulder against the window frame, but she continued to watch.

  He was a man of great contrasts, she thought tenderly – a tall, powerfully built man who exuded a tough, hard-bitten strength that was at complete variance to the sensuality of his mouth and the glamour of his sudden smile. He looked as if he could still carry a football and plow his way through a defensive line, and yet he exuded the relaxed elegance of a man who was born to preside over a mansion like this one.

  Tonight, he was playing his role of host with ease, appearing to listen intently to what a group of men were telling him, but Corey saw him look at his watch for the third time in en minutes. He’d had dinner sent up five minutes ago, and the table on the balcony was already set with china and silver and covered platters. She glanced at the clock and watched the minute hand make its last small lurch. It was ten o’clock. She looked out the window and smothered a laugh as Spence abruptly put his drink down, nodded briefly to the men who were talking to him, and left them there, his long, swift strides taking him straight toward the doors that led into the house. He’d fulfilled his social obligations; now he was in a hurry.

  Because he wanted to have dinner with her.

  And after dinner, he intended to have Corey for dessert.

  Wryly, Corey glanced at the table on the balcony, where a hurricane lamp was already casting its mellow glow. It was a perfect seduction scene – a private balcony, candlelight, champagne chilling in a bucket, music in the distance, and a very large, luxurious bed with satin sheets within immediate reach. She was immensely flattered by his attention to detail, but she was not going to let him make love to her. If she did, the desolation she would feel when he kissed her good-bye and sent her on her way would make the episode eleven years old pale in comparison.

  Corey was very clear on all that. What she was not clear about was why he suddenly seemed to find her so irresistible. Last night, as she had lain awake, trying to find a reason for his display of passion, she’d decided it was a case of guilt over the picture her grandmother had painted for him of Corey waiting at the window for him to take her to the dance.

  That theory was invalidated by the way he’d behaved today – he was in serious amorous pursuit, and he was using an entire arsenal of sensual weapons on her, from his voice to his hands. He’d even asked her to extend her trip, though he’d backed off without pressing her. It didn’t make sense. Outside, on the lawn, there were stunning women who put Corey comp
letely in the shade, and she’d watched several of them trying to flirt with him. Spence was gorgeous, sexy, and rich. He had an unlimited supply of women who were just like him from which to choose. That was the real reason he’d never been interested in Corey, not even when she was almost eighteen and the age difference between them wouldn’t have mattered so much.

  Now he was suddenly pursuing her with single-minded determination, and she knew there had to be an explanation. It was possible he simply enjoyed the novelty of trying to seduce a childhood friend. She shoved that thought aside; it was completely unjust. Spence wasn’t cynical or jaded; she wouldn’t be so helplessly in love with him now if he was.

  Corey moved away from the window so that he wouldn’t see her there and guess she’d been watching him on the terrace.

  When there was no answer to his knock, Spence tried the knob and let himself in. He was halfway across the suite when he saw Corey outside on the balcony, standing at the balustrade in a long, bright green silk shift that covered her from her neck to her ankles with the exception of a slash at the neck. She was waiting for him, he thought with an inner grin. After all these years, his golden girl was waiting for him again. Fate had given him a second chance he didn’t deserve, and he intended to seize it any way he could.

  Dinner with Corey was one of the most enjoyable meals he’d had in years. She regaled him with funny stories about events in his life that he’d almost forgotten. Afterward, they sipped brandy and Corey got out one of the photo albums she’d brought to give him. The light from the hurricane lamp wasn’t very good, but Corey argued that bad lighting was a help, not hindrance, for viewing her earliest photographic attempts. Spence let her have her way because the champagne and brandy were having a mellowing effect on her, and he wanted her to be relaxed tonight.

  With his elbow on the table and his chin on his fist, he divided his attention between her animated face and the pictures she was showing him. “Why did you keep that shot?” he asked, pointing to a picture of a girl in riding breeches who was sprawled on the ground in a sitting position, her hair half-covering her face.

  Corey gave him a winsome smile, but he had the feeling she was a little embarrassed. “Actually, that was one of my favorites for a while. I gather you don’t recognize her?”

  “Not with her hair in her face.”

  “That happens to be Lisa Murphy. You took her out during your junior year of college when you were home during the summer.”

  Understanding dawned and Spence swallowed a laugh. “I take it you didn’t like her very much?”

  “Not after she took me aside and told me I was a pest and that I should stay away from you. We were all at a charity horse show that day. Actually, I didn’t even know you were going to be there.”

  The last page contained one of the snapshots of Spence with his grandmother that Corey had taken at the luau. They looked at it in silence for a moment. “She was very special,” Corey said softly, touching her fingertip to the elderly lady’s cheek.

  “So were you,” he said quietly, as he closed the album. “Even then.”

  Corey knew instinctively that the part of the evening she longed for and dreaded was about to begin. She took the coward’s way and tried to forestall the inevitable with humor and change of location. “I’m sure you didn’t think I was ‘special’ when I was hanging out of trees taking pictures of you,” she joked, walking over to the balustrade.

  He walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I always thought you were special, Corey.” When she didn’t reply, he said, “Would you be surprised if I told you I have a picture of you?”

  “Was it one of the ones I used to stick in your wallet when you weren’t looking?”

  An instant ago he was about to kiss her, and he ended up burying his laughing face in her hair instead. “Did you really do that?”

  “No, but I considered it.”

  “The picture I have of you is from the front of Beautiful Living.”

  “I hope you found enough room for it somewhere,” she joked. “It’s only an inch tall.”

  He brushed his lips over her temple, his voice a tender murmur. “I want a larger photograph that shows the way you glow in the moonlight when you’re in my arms.”

  Corey tried not to let what he was saying or doing affect her, but warmth was already spreading through her entire body, and when he slid his arm around her waist and drew her against his full length, she felt an ache of longing begin to build. “I’m insane about you,” he whispered.

  “Spence,” she pleaded softly, “don’t do this to me.” But it was too late, he was already turning her in his arms, and when his mouth opened over hers, insistent and hungry, Corey gave herself up to the torrid kiss, surrendered to the turbulence that followed in the wake of male hands that caressed her breasts and slid down her spine, forcing her into vibrant contact with his arousal. When he finally lifted his mouth from her, Corey felt seared by the kiss and branded with his body.

  “Stay for a few days,” he whispered, rubbing his jaw against her hair.

  A few days… She deserved a few sweet days to remember and cherish. And then regret. “I – I have to work for a living – a schedule –“

  He shoved his hands through the sides of her hair and turned her face up to his. “Put me on your schedule. I have work for you.”

  She thought he was joking about it being work, and she leaned her forehead against his chest. She was going to stay with him. God help her, she was going to do it. “What you’re suggesting is not work,” she said, her voice trembling with fear and love.

  Spence sensed that she was wavering, and he pressed the advantage he’d gained before she could change her mind. “I’m serious,” he said, using the only method he’d been able to think of all day that might make her agree to stay. “I’ve been putting together notes for a book on this house and several others built at the same time. I need photographs to accompany the text, and you could-“

  She shoved him away so abruptly that he almost lost his balance. “So that’s what this whole seduction routine had been about!” She wrapped her arms around her middle and backed away, her voice shaking with tears and fury. “You wanted something!” He reached for her, but she jerked free and backed away. “Get out of here.”

  “Listen to me!” Spence caught her just inside the open doors. “I love you!”

  “If you want me to take pictures of this place, then call the William Morris Agency in New York and talk to my agent, but first you’d better send him a blank check!”

  “Corey, shut up and listen to me. I invented all that about the book. I’m in love with you.”

  “You lying, conniving – Get out of here!”

  She was trying so damned hard not to cry, and he knew she’d hate him more if she broke down in front of him. He dropped his arms to his sides, but he wasn’t giving up. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

  By the time Spence reached his own room, the enormity of his mistake had hit him. Not matter what he tried to tell her in the morning, she wasn’t going to believe him. After this, there was no way he could prove to her that he had no ulterior motives and that all he wanted was her.

  Furious with his blunder, he yanked off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt while he let himself consider the one ugly possibility that had been there all along: Corey wasn’t in love with him. He knew damned well she felt something for him; it ignited the moment he touched her, but he could be mistaking that “something” for love. He was on his way to the liquor cabinet when he passed his bed and saw the note propped on his pillows.

  It was a hastily written letter from Joy, telling him that she was eloping with Will Marcillo, the caterer’s son, and asking Spence to tell her mother in the morning. The rest of the letter was a desperate effort on his niece’s part to make Spence understand why a conversation she’d had with Corey earlier that day had convinced her she had to marry the man she loved. According to Joy’s disjointed explanation, Corey
had admitted to her that she had never loved anyone but Spence and she wanted to have his babies, but she was afraid to risk her feelings again. That, according to Joy, was exactly how she herself had felt about Will, only Joy was no longer afraid to take the risk.

  Spence read the letter again, then he put it down on a table and stared at his bed, his mind whirling with Joy’s revelations, fitting them together with the things he’d discovered about Corey and then coming to a full stop at the impossible predicament he’d put himself in tonight by lying to her about his motives for wanting her to stay.

  According to Joy’s note, Corey loved him. She wanted to have his babies. She was afraid to take a risk.

  According to Corey, she either acted on impulse and instinct, or else she lost her courage and didn’t act at all.

  Spence had inadvertently fixed it so that nothing he said would make Corey believe he wanted only her. Tomorrow a wedding was scheduled to take place, but there was no bride and no groom. He couldn’t say anything to make her believe him, but there was a possibility he might still be able to do something. He hesitated for a moment, and then he made his decision and picked up the telephone.

  Judge Lattimore had just gotten home from the rehearsal dinner. He was very surprised to hear from Spence. He was more surprised when he understood why.

  Fourteen

  COREY WAS ALREADY SETTING UP EQUIPMENT FOR THE WEDDING shots on the lawn at seven o’clock in the morning when she was handed a note from Spence telling her to come to his study immediately. Convinced he had some new form of lie to tell her, she circumvented him by taking Mike and Kristin with her.

  Anger made her steps long and fast as she walked across the lawn. She still could hardly believe he’d done what he had, merely to get free professional photographs for his damned book. On the other hand, Corey’s freelance fees were very high, and she’d lived among the wealthy long enough to know how incredibly cheap some of them were when it came to spending money on anything other than themselves. Cheap was bad enough, but deceitful and manipulative were unforgivable, and to use her as he had – to touch her and kiss her – and then to tell her he loved her. That was obscene.

 

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