And Mistress Makes Three

by Francis Ray

  “We?”

  Celeste shut the door without getting the pitcher of lemonade. “We. He saw the way I looked at you, the way you growled when he touched me, and he realized I’d never love him the way he deserved.”

  Alec looked as if he’d been sucker punched. “You’re seeing him?”

  “Up until six months ago we were engaged, for three months.”

  “You were engaged?” he asked.

  “He was engagement number three. You should know that each of them would take me back in a heartbeat. So don’t think you’re Mr. Hot Stuff.” Placing the book on the counter, she opened the refrigerator, took out the pitcher, and filled a glass. She took a long swallow.

  “I already know men want you.” His hot gaze raked her. “Men can’t seem to keep their eyes off you.”

  “You don’t seem to have that problem.”

  He crossed to her in seconds, his hard, muscular body surrounding her, pinning her against the cabinet. “I probably want you more than all of them put together.” His hand cupped her cheek. “Unlike Enrique or any of the others, I’ve tasted your passion, felt you moan beneath me.”

  Breath became harder for her to draw in. “H—how do you know they haven’t?”

  “Because if they had, they’d do whatever it took to taste, to feel that way again.” His mouth fastened on her, claiming, devouring. Celeste met the passion and the fury in the kiss. She wanted, needed this.

  Alec held her away, his breathing hard and labored. “Why is it that if I see you, I want you? Why can’t I forget you?”

  His words hurt. “If you don’t want to be here, leave. You know the way out.” Picking up her glass, she went into the den and took a seat on the sofa. Remote in hand, she turned on the flat-panel television, flicking through the channels, anything to drown out the noise of the front door closing.

  She jumped when his hands settled on her shoulders from behind. “You haunt me.”

  Her head fell forward. Misery welled within her. She didn’t want the attraction between them to make him unhappy.

  “But you give me the only measure of peace I have, the only time when I don’t see his face,” he said, the words tortured. “I ended a man’s life, a man who had a wife, a man who was about to become a father. Two weeks before I came here, I drew my weapon and couldn’t fire it. I can no longer do the job I love. I’m a danger to myself and anyone on duty with me unless I get my head on straight.”

  Her heart ached. She tried to turn, but he held her fast. “I know how you feel,” she said slowly.

  “You can’t possibly know how I feel,” he told her, lifting his hands from her. “The worst thing that has probably happened to you is a broken nail.”

  Setting the glass down with a hard thud, she rounded the sofa. She pushed her face in his. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Alec Dunlap! You aren’t the only one who has ever regretted taking a life. You did yours in the line of duty to save your partner and yourself. I took a life because I wanted to party and got drunk.”

  His eyes widened; his mouth became unhinged.

  Cold, chilled to the bone, Celeste wrapped her arms around her body. “Elaine Mathis was my best friend since kindergarten. We did everything together. We were inseparable and elated when we were accepted as pre-med majors at the University of Texas at Austin. We had just finished our freshman year and came home for the summer.”

  “Celeste, don’t.” Alec pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “I’m sorry, honey. So sorry.”

  She heard him but couldn’t stop the words. “We went to a pool party. We’d had a hard year, and I figured it was time to have some fun.” She shuddered. “I was too drunk to drive my car, so Elaine put me in the backseat and started home. She never made it. They think she fell asleep at the wheel. She—she hit a light post. Out cold in the back, I came away without a scratch. I’ve never drunk alcohol since.”

  His hold tightened. “Having you relive that isn’t worth you trying to help me.”

  Tears glistened in Celeste’s eyes for Elaine, for him. “I quit school, became depressed. If it hadn’t been for my family, I wouldn’t be here today.”

  “Celeste, no,” he groaned.

  “I just wanted the pain and guilt to go away. Yolanda came into my bedroom before I could hide the sleeping pills I’d been saving. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen her angry.” Celeste placed her head on Alec’s chest, felt the unsteady beat. “It wasn’t your fault. It takes time for that to sink in. Give yourself time.”

  He didn’t say anything, just picked her up and sat down on the sofa, cradling her shivering body against his. “Thank you for trying to help me. It wasn’t easy, yet you did it. I’m grateful.”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “I hear a ‘but.’ ”

  His hand tenderly brushed tears from her face. “You weren’t to blame. It was a tragic accident. I’m directly responsible.”

  “The second he shot the guard, then your partner, and then tried to shoot you, he became responsible. You had no choice.”

  He didn’t want to talk about it. It wouldn’t do any good until he was ready. He pressed her head back on his chest, gently stroking her hair. “So, Ms. de la Vega, tell me about the other two engagements.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  SEVENTEEN

  “We’re really going on a dinner cruise?” Gabrielle asked, obviously trying to act nonchalant, but the sparkle of excitement in her eyes gave her away.

  “Yes.” Max parked, then went around to open Gina’s door. After the game he’d told them he had a surprise and would pick them up at six.

  “Thank you,” Gina said, getting out of the vehicle.

  Max nodded, aware she was thanking him for more than the door. Gabrielle and Ashton needed a diversion after being left by their father. Both had looked miserable at the soccer field. Ashton’s coach had to take him out after he let a ball get by him. It had taken a lot of talk on Gina’s part to get his head back up, his spirits revived. He’d gone back in and kept the other team from scoring again while his team scored four goals.

  Gina grabbed Ashton’s hand as he started past her for the boarding area. “You stick close to me. No running, and I don’t want you leaning over the rail.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, looking at the cruise ship as people stood in line to board. “I bet I can draw this.”

  “I bet you could.” Max waited until slow-walking Gabrielle joined them. “What’s your hobby?”

  “I don’t have one,” she said.

  “She used to write poems,” Gina said. “They were very good. I wish she hadn’t stopped.”

  “There hasn’t been much to write about.” Her shoulders hunched.

  Max didn’t have to see Gina’s face to know her daughter’s words hurt. “Gabrielle, it sounds as if you might be able to help me out.”

  She slanted a suspicious look at him. Gina caught Ashton as he tried to climb up on the rail.

  “Your mother has made the guest rooms more inviting, but I’ve noticed in a lot of establishments each guest room has a name or theme,” Max said, embellishing on his idea as they boarded the boat and found an empty space to stand on the first level. “Do you think you could help me out and come up with names? I thought I’d put a gold plate on each door. On it would be your name.”

  Her eyes rounded to the size of saucers. “You’d really put my name on it?”

  “Yes.” He put his hand on Ashton’s shoulder as he tried to pass him. “It would give the place a classy touch.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Gabrielle said, leaning on the rail beside her mother as the ship slowly pulled out to sea.

  “Thanks. If it’s all right with your mother, I can pick you all up tomorrow afternoon and you can come over and view the rooms.” Max lifted Ashton up with one arm so he could see over the railing.

  “All except you picking us up, it’s fine.” Gina put her arm around Gabrielle’s shoulder. “We c
an come over after church and I can give Sophia another lesson in preparing the signature dishes.”

  “It’s no trouble picking you up,” Max said. “It will give you a break from driving and it will give me a chance to finish working on your bike. Anyone want to go up on the third level of the observation deck? The view is better.”

  “Me,” Ashton said.

  Max chuckled. “I thought so.” He looked at Gina. “I won’t let him get hurt.”

  “I know. I trust you.” Giving him a tender smile, she started toward the stairs with Gabrielle beside her.

  With Ashton secure in his arms, Max followed. The day might have started off badly for them, but he had one more surprise that he hoped would lift Gabrielle’s and Gina’s spirits.

  A little over an hour later, they were shown to their table. The dining room was climate controlled, with brass fixtures, ten-foot ceilings, and Oriental carpeting. They were barely seated before a man appeared to present Gina and Gabrielle each with a long-stemmed red rose.

  Gina’s eyes widened with undisguised pleasure. “What a wonderful surprise, Max. It seems I’m always thanking you.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Max said.

  “I—” Gabrielle’s hand trembled. “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.” Max picked up his menu. “Let’s order, shall we.”

  . . .

  “May I have this dance?”

  Gina stared up at Max and wanted with all her heart to take the hand he offered. After they had finished their dinner, a woman had come onstage to sing about a lost love. The dance floor had quickly filled.

  “Mama can’t dance,” Gabrielle said from her seat next to her mother. Gina couldn’t tell if her daughter was just stating a fact or she didn’t want her mother dancing with Max.

  “Your mother is a very smart woman,” Max said, his long-fingered hand and warm gaze never wavering. “I can teach her.”

  “I don’t like to dance,” Ashton said, loud enough for diners several feet away to hear.

  “Gina does,” Max said with all the confidence of a man who knew what he wanted.

  Gina felt her heart race. How could Max understand her need to forget her worries and just have fun once in a while when Robert never had? The answer was simple: Max wasn’t selfish.

  Not daring to look at Gabrielle, Gina placed her hand in Max’s, felt his strong, confident grip as he led her to the dance floor, then curved his arm around her waist. She sighed without realizing it as he pulled her gently into his arms. Their bodies didn’t touch, but she felt the pull, the heat.

  Her gaze lifted to his, and she knew he could easily see the desire in her eyes that she no longer wanted to hide.

  His back to their table, his fingers stroked the small of her back. “One day we’ll dance without an audience.”

  “I’d like that,” she said, a bit breathless. Max made her feel light-headed, giddy, as if she’d drunk too much champagne.

  “How about next Saturday night? Dinner, dancing, just the two of us?” he asked, his feet and body moving so smoothly she followed him without thinking. “I’ll make reservations.”

  A date. There would be no confusion this time. “I’ll get a sitter just in case.”

  The side of his sexy mouth kicked up and Gina felt the familiar sweet ache in her stomach. “Like I said, you’re a smart woman.”

  She tilted her head to one side in a flirtatious manner. “It’s about time, don’t you think?”

  “Look out, world.”

  She smiled up at him, feeling lighter with each passing moment. Life had certainly taken a turn.

  Monday evening, Gabrielle climbed the stairs of Journey’s End behind her mother, Max, and Ashton. Gabrielle’s knees shook the tiniest bit. She shouldn’t be nervous. She didn’t like Max all that much, so it would be no big deal if he didn’t care for the names for the guest rooms she’d worked on so hard to come up with last night.

  It was a matter of pride, she decided. She wanted him to see that she was smart, smart enough to know he was trying to take her daddy’s place. She wasn’t going to let that happen.

  He probably thought giving her the rose would win her over, but he couldn’t be more wrong. She might have been pleased on the dinner cruise ship at first, but that was before he’d danced with her mother. He was definitely putting the moves on her. He might as well give up. Gabrielle wasn’t going to let it happen.

  Yesterday they’d had an OK time at the B and B after church, but she wasn’t as easily won over as Ashton and her mother. Ashton was a kid and didn’t know any better. Her mother had acted all gooey because Max had removed the narrow seat on her exercise bike and put on a larger, padded one and rigged up a place in front to place Gabrielle’s father’s old laptop.

  She bet her father could have done the same thing if her mother had said anything. Gabrielle had told Gina so, but all she’d said was that she hadn’t had to ask Max.

  Going down the hallway, Gabrielle had to admit Max did a lot. But she knew her daddy would, too. It was just that he was so busy at his job. Her daddy loved her and she loved him. It was up to her to see that her mother didn’t get all mushy on Max.

  Max stopped in front of the first guest room. “You thought of the names so quickly. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve come up with.”

  Gabrielle’s knees shook even worse. They were all looking expectantly at her, even her brother.

  “Go on, Gabrielle,” her mother said. “I’m anxious myself.”

  “Come on, Gabrielle,” Ashton said. “Max said he’d kick the ball with me when you finished.”

  It was now or never. Show him you’re smart. She took a deep breath. “The Orchid Suite, for the largest room, and for the other three the Rose Room, the Southern Room, and the Ashley River Room.” Gabrielle looked at her mother smiling proudly at her and her knees steadied. “There are roses on the bedspread of the main bedroom. My teacher has an orchid on her desk, so you could put one in the room. I figure we could find objects and pictures to make the names go with the rooms.”

  Max grinned. “Perfect, but I might have known. Your mother is incredible, so why shouldn’t her daughter . . .” Max paused and glanced down at Ashton. “And son be the same way.”

  “They’re lovely names, Gabrielle.” Her mother beamed. “Elegance linked with charm.” She turned to Max. “I’m sure I can find theme decorations to reflect the rooms’ names.”

  “And once you do, I can do a video of the door with the nameplate, then film inside the room.” Max put his hand on Ashton’s shoulder. “The Rawlings family has really helped out.”

  “Not me,” Ashton said, his head bowed.

  Max hunkered down next to Gabrielle’s little brother. “I had hoped you’d help me and your mother finish measuring the grounds for the gardens.”

  His head came up. “I can do that.”

  “I knew I could count on you.” Max pushed upward. “In the meantime, what do you say we put our skills against the women? I bet we can get the soccer ball past them.”

  “In your dreams,” Gabrielle said before she thought, then jerked toward her mother and waited for the reprimand for speaking to an adult that way.

  “You tell him, Gabrielle.” Her mother put her arm around Gabrielle’s shoulder. “I’ve practiced enough with Ashton. So bring it on.”

  He’s going to make it, Sharon.

  Arms folded, Sophia watched Max and Ashton play soccer against Gina and Gabrielle. In lieu of a goal they’d set two clay pots several feet apart. Neither team had scored, but that didn’t seem to matter to the happy group.

  “They’re having fun.”

  Startled, Sophia swung around at the male voice—Southern and filled with good humor. Standing before her was a tall, slender gentleman in gray slacks and a crisp white shirt and gray bow tie. His full head of hair and mustache were gray as well. He looked like a bearded Sean Connery, with every bit of the charm and charisma.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t m
ean to frighten you,” he said, and extended his hand. “Profess— Albert Cummings. I live next door.”

  “Sophia Durand,” Sophia said, and shook his hand. The grip was firm but gentle. “Are you in education?”

  “Was,” he said, smiling again. “Retired last term from the College of Charleston after fifty years of teaching English. I decided to do some of the things I’ve always wanted before it was too late.”

  Sophia nodded. That had been her thought as well. “I retired last semester after forty-four years with the Memphis School District. The last twenty as principal.”

  “They’ll miss us,” he said, and chuckled.

  “They certainly will.” Sophia liked his easy smile, the bright laughter. Laughter had her turning toward the game.

  “Your family?” Albert asked.

  “Partially. Max, the man trying to keep the ball away from the girl, is my nephew. The woman in front of the goal on the other end is Gina Rawlings, a friend. Ashton and Gabrielle are her children.”

  “It seems only yesterday that I could run that fast, was that limber,” Albert said with a smile in his voice.

  She looked at him. People usually didn’t like to talk about the limitations age had imposed on them. “In my mind, it seems only yesterday that I graduated from college, bright and eager to meet the world.”

  “You met it, and succeeded.”

  She turned to him. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because you didn’t go on and on about how difficult it was to teach students who don’t want to learn, as many of my colleagues do.” He folded his arms. “It’s our job to teach the un-teachable. Not an easy task, but one that can and should be rewarding.”

  Sophia stared at him. “My friends think I’m a throwback because I think the same way.”

  He leaned closer. She smelled his pleasant aftershave, an intoxicating mixture of spices. “Perhaps it’s time you had new friends.”

  Sophia’s eyes widened. Was this distinguished man flirting with her? Dear lord, she hoped so.

  “Hi there. I’m Max Broussard.”