Promoted to Wife (Destiny Bay)

by Conrad, Helen

  “Oh, Terry, let me love you,” he murmured, and she whispered, “Yes... yes,” still moving to the rhythm his hand created. He slid her up out of the water and buried his face against her wet breasts. She dug her kneading fingers into his hair, gasping at the incredible storm that was rising in her body.

  Her mind was caught in the whirlwind. It would be so easy to let things fly. But a shred of her common sense remained, and that one little shred wouldn't let her lose herself to desire without a fight.

  “Wait,” she murmured as Rick's arms tightened around her. “We can't do this now. Not here.”

  He froze, eyes closed, and held her tightly.

  “Not here in this house,” she went on breathlessly. “Not with your aunt here, and the children ...”

  He drew back and stared at her, his eyes slightly wild. “No, Terry,” he stated flatly. “You can't get away with that any longer.” One swift movement lifted her into his arms.

  “Rick!” she cried out.

  He paid no attention. Holding her tenderly but firmly, he carried her out of the bathroom, dripping sudsy water across the carpet, and into her bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

  “The children,” she murmured almost desperately as he laid her down upon her golden spread, her body white as ivory, her hair jet black, her nipples pink as roses.

  He touched her, his hand sliding along her satin skin with a soothing stroke. “There are no children,” he told her huskily. “There's no one in the world but you and me.”

  Her eyes were huge as she stared up at him. “You and me?” she whispered.

  “You and me,” he repeated firmly.

  He shed his clothes and his body gleamed in the shadowy lamplight, dark and hot and hard. When he lay on the bed beside her, she moaned and stretched to touch him with every part of her body, her feet curling around his ankles, her hips tempting his, her breasts rubbing against the hair of his chest, her mouth on his, searching, begging, demanding all he had to give. The time for doubts was over. She was all need, all desire.

  “Oh, Rick!” she cried. “Oh, please!”

  His surge was her lifeline, and she clung to him while he filled her, fulfilled her, turned the night into blazing glory.

  When it was over she wondered if she'd dreamed it. The passionate memories and emotions remained, but they were almost too wonderful to believe.

  And then there was a sound in the hallway.

  “Terry?” Jeremy's timid voice was at her door before she'd even caught her breath after the lovemaking.

  “J-Jeremy?” she answered, looking at Rick in horror.

  “Terry?” the boy called in a gruff tone he seemed to think was a whisper. “Terry, I had a bad dream and I can't find my daddy. Can I come in and sleep in your bed?”

  Rick drew away from her, half laughing, half cursing, shaking his head.

  “Terry, Terry, darling,” he whispered as he gathered his clothes. “I'm so sorry. This is no way to conduct a love affair.” He bent to kiss her quickly. “We'll get some time alone to do this properly,” he told her, looking deep into her troubled eyes. “Until then...” His kiss was full of tantalizing promises.

  And then he was gone, leaving through the bathroom.

  “Just a minute, Jeremy,” Terry called as she gathered up her bathrobe. Her hands were trembling and she dropped the robe twice before she managed to get it on.

  This was crazy. She was crazy. But she couldn't help it any longer. There was a soaring, searing sensation in her chest. She would risk her job, her self-respect, everything. Because she was crazy—crazy in love with Rick.

  The next few days seemed to spin by like old-fashioned tops, all frenzied activity with no time for thought. Caren departed, ignoring Terry's profuse apologies and throwing smoldering glances Rick's way, but nothing more was said about the incident at the pool party. Jeremy got very busy building an insect collection and Erica kept to her room. Aunt Julia spent her days making lists for the charity ball.

  And Terry moved in a cloud of wary happiness. Every contact with Rick only reinforced how she felt about him. She needed the sight of his handsome face, the touch of his hand, as she needed air to breathe. She needed him, and she wouldn't let herself think any further than that.

  The moment that they'd shared stuck in her memory. She could hardly believe it had really happened; it felt like a dream.

  Things were going smoothly as far as running Mar Vista was concerned. Every now and then she hit a snag, but a quick call to her father or, more often now, a bit of thought and her own ingenuity, and the snag was smoothed over. She was doing a good job, and she didn't even need anyone else to tell her so. She could feel it within herself. And that was very rewarding.

  The charity ball was going to be her showcase. If that was a success, she would hand over the reins to her much-improved father with a sense of triumph that she was looking forward to. To finally succeed at something real and tangible! That would be wonderful.

  But a nagging problem that still bothered her was Erica. Jeremy had opened to his father as though they'd never been apart, but the older girl remained aloof and unapproachable. The harder Rick tried to reach her, the more she retreated. Terry wished she knew what to do to remedy the situation.

  “Take the children out to see your ranch,” she suggested a day or so later when Rick had waylaid her in the linen closet for a stolen kiss. She knew he went out to the ranch at least twice a week to keep an eye on things.

  “You think they'd like that?” he asked dubiously, his hand sliding down her cheek, his eyes narrowed as he selected just which delectable part of her soft mouth to kiss first.

  “Oh, yes,” she sighed, drugged by his sensual caress. “They ought to get a look at the 'real you.' “

  He nibbled on her lower lip, his body pressing her back against the pile of sheets. “So should you,” he muttered.

  She blinked at him: “What?”

  “Get a look at the 'real me.' I'll take them to the ranch. But only if you come too.”

  “But…”

  “No excuses. The place needs the careful eye of a good butler. You can be along as a consultant. Nothing more.”

  And so, one hot summer afternoon two days later, they were all out riding across the Santa Ynez Valley on Rick's horses. Jeremy had a pony that just suited him. Terry had learned to ride for her acting career, and though she didn't feel entirely at home atop a horse as yet, she knew what to do. The surprise was Erica. She quickly grew to love the horses and was soon riding with a natural skill that rivaled her father's.

  “She's doing wonderfully!” Terry said as they approached the spot they'd selected for their picnic and Erica raced ahead to be the first to arrive.

  Rick looked so different here on his ranch. The smooth, sophisticated playboy disappeared, and in his place was a cowboy rough enough to star in a Western. He always seemed to move through life with an air of casual command, but here there was even more—a quiet confidence, and masculine pride and satisfaction that made him even more attractive than ever.

  “I would have had her out here from the first if I'd known how she'd take to it,” Rick said, gazing at the little girl.

  They spread a checkered cloth in a shaded, grassy area near a stream and ate their fried chicken and laughed. Even Erica's reserve melted a bit.

  They'd finished eating and were cleaning up the scraps while Jeremy played beside the stream when Erica burst out with a statement that destroyed the pleasant mood.

  “It's so funny having you here with us, Terry,” she said suddenly, her eyes cool. “People don't usually take butlers along on outings like this, do they?”

  The atmosphere was deathly still as they each digested her words. Terry glanced at Rick. What Erica had said was true. Terry had been trying to ignore the issue, but the girl had flung it in her face.

  “Terry isn't an ordinary butler,” Rick said slowly, watching his daughter. “She's much more than that.”

  “I know,” E
rica said, and her tone of irony was unmistakably sharp. “I've noticed.”

  Terry went cold. Of course she'd noticed. How could they have been so stupid as to think they could hide anything from her? Love was blind, it seemed, in more ways than one.

  “But it's okay with me,” Erica added, not looking anyone in the face. “Better her than the kitchen maid,” she said with false bravado, and then she was walking quickly toward the stream and away from Rick and Terry,

  “Terry...” Rick started toward her but she pulled her arms in about herself and pulled away.

  “She's right, Rick,” she said hollowly. “I don't belong here. We're being so obvious....”

  He took her by the shoulders and forced her to face him. “You're here,” he said roughly, “because I want you here. No one is going to keep me away from you, Terry.” His eyes were fierce with determination. “No one.”

  She looked up into his gaze, desperate for a reassurance she knew he couldn't give. She didn't really trust him any more than she trusted herself. And most of all, she didn't trust her heart.

  Jeremy's cry of anguish interrupted them and they both turned to see what was happening at the stream.

  “My koala!” Jeremy shrieked, and at the same time Erica began running along the banks of the water.

  “I'll get it,” she cried, and then she was plunging into the stream, heedless, for once, of getting wet and dirty.

  Rick and Terry raced toward where the children were playing, but by the time they got to the stream, Erica was slogging out, carrying the soggy bear.

  “Just look at me!” she complained, aghast, stopping a few feet from shore as though there was no longer any hope. “I'm such a mess!”

  She looked so comically tragic, they all had to laugh.

  “Me, too,” said Jeremy, and he put a foot into the cool water and kicked it high.

  “Me, too,” Rick echoed mockingly, and leapt into the middle of the stream, letting the water cascade above his knees.

  Erica's face registered horror, then doubt. She wasn't sure if she was being made fun of.

  “The more the merrier,” Terry cried. She took one step in. The water felt heavenly on her hot skin. Casting caution to the winds, she let the water knock her over and carry her to where Rick was waiting to catch hold of her.

  Erica looked uncertain for a moment, and then a tentative smile curved her lips. Rick pulled Terry up out of the water and she deliberately splashed him.

  “Oh, so that's your game!” he cried, lifting her high above the little rapids and threatening to drop her.

  Jeremy plunged in to the rescue, and after a second or two of hesitation, Erica came to join him, and then they were all splashing and pushing and laughing, until each was as wet as the other.

  Climbing up on the bank, they all stretched out to dry in the sunshine.

  “Hey, Erica,” Rick called from his resting place beside Terry. “Have you ever been this messy before in your life?”

  “No,” she shot back, carelessly returning his grin. “But since I am your daughter, I should have a natural-born ability to deal with disorder and chaos, don't you think?”

  Everyone laughed, even Jeremy, who didn't know what they were talking about. But he could feel the growing warmth between them all, so he laughed, just for the joy of it. A few moments later the good feeling was reinforced when Erica offered, with no urging at all, to help Terry clear up the food and pack things away.

  They rode back to the ranch singing “Home on the Range,” which Rick insisted was his favorite song, even though Erica kept drowning it out with her own version of the latest pop hit from a TV show she liked. And when Rick pretended to turn his horse to chase her, she shrieked and kneed her animal into a gallop that set the two of them racing across the meadow.

  Terry smiled. It suddenly occurred to her, as the ranch house came in sight, how like a family they were— for the moment.

  CHAPTER NINE:

  Learning Navigation

  “Good morning, Yardley.”

  Terry opened her eyes and clutched her covers up under her chin. “Rick?” she muttered groggily.

  Dawn had barely begun to break and there he was, standing in the doorway to her little bedroom. He glanced out into the hall, then came in, shutting the door behind him.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” he murmured, leaning down to push her hair back away from her eyes. “I just wanted to let you know that you've got the day off. And I've got plans for us.”

  “You do?” Slowly her mind began to function. “You mean... ?”

  “We've finally got some time to be alone together. I'll give you half an hour to get ready, then we'll leave before the others get up.” He bent to drop a tickling kiss on her cheek. “Twenty-four hours off, lady-butler. Whatever will you do with your time?”

  She sat up, pulling her covers with her, suddenly wide-awake. He filled her room, looking clean and fresh and so very male. “Where are we going?” she asked, excited and wary at the same time. He did mean to be with her, didn't he?

  “Into Destiny Bay, if that idea pleases you. It can be a romantic town.”

  She swallowed, trying to think clearly. “What are we going to do?”

  Wincing, he almost laughed. “You're joking.”

  She flushed. “I mean, what should I wear...”

  His grin was positively lascivious. “Not a thing.”

  “Rick!”

  “Okay, okay. I suppose decorum must be observed. Wear a summer dress and bring along a bathing suit. Is that good enough?”

  A full day with Rick. The possibilities sent a thrill down her spine and she shivered. “Perfect,” she told him with a grin. “Now get out of here so I can get ready.”

  Within the hour they were racing over the highway toward the city. “Breakfast at the Lodge, overlooking the ocean,” he told her. “And we'll take it from there.”

  The car purred along the road, all sleek, expensive power, and she thought suddenly of how it suited its owner. Money, position, flash—he had it all.

  Looking down at the simple blue cotton sundress she'd worn, she sighed. It was a pretty dress. It looked great on her, setting off her blue eyes, her shiny black hair. But it bore no designer label. She'd bought it on sale at a nice department store, and at the time she'd cringed at the price. Someone like Caren would spend as much on a casual tip for someone who'd done her a favor and not think twice about it. That was what Rick was used to.

  Her fingers knotted in her lap and she stared straight ahead. The fresh air coming in through the open window was waking her up in a way in which she hadn't been awake for days. She was out of her league. She didn't belong here. Rick was used to the best in everything. How could she ever measure up?

  They ate on a sun-drenched veranda and she smiled and laughed along with him. But deep inside, misgivings were growing.

  Rick raised his orange juice in a toast. “To beautiful butlers,” he said.

  Her chin rose along with her own glass. She was feeling a bit prickly. She tried to hide it with a sassy smile. “How about changing that to smart butlers?” she prodded.

  “That's okay too.” His grin widened. “But it's the 'beautiful' that interests me most right now. You are certainly the most beautiful butler I've ever known.”

  As usual, she began to warm to his charm. She cocked an eyebrow teasingly. “And the smartest,” she asserted. “You just don't know it yet.”

  He chuckled, enjoying her. “Everyone should have a smart butler like you,” he agreed. “Smart and pretty at the same time. The butler business will never be the same again, you know. Everyone will insist on getting what I've got.”

  Ignoring that sort of compliment was too difficult for Terry. “Are you telling me French maids are going to be passe?” she asked with a wicked smile, waving a fork at him. “I heard about the maids in your room.”

  His face fell and he looked annoyed. “Who told you that?” Waving it away, he took a bite of bacon. “Don’t listen to gossip
like that. It all happened during my wild and impetuous youth.”

  “Maids in your room,” she went on knowingly. “Butlers in your linen closet.” She paused, frowning. “I'm not surprised you turn down Aunt Julia's pilgrims,” she said more slowly. “You've got all you need without ever leaving home.”

  Much as she tried to hide it, the tinge of bitterness showed through her teasing, and he heard it. Putting down his fork, he leaned forward and took her hand in his.

  “Terry,” he began, his voice low and serious. “Enough talk about maids and butlers. Let's forget all that. For today, you're just a woman, I'm just a man. Okay?”

  For some crazy reason she had a lump in her throat, but she managed to nod and whisper, “Okay,” and he smiled.

  After their meal they walked on the beach, then fed the ducks in the estuary. And all the time, the anticipation grew between them.

  He wanted her, and she wanted him. That was what this day was all about. Neither one of them said so out loud, but they both knew it. He was putting it off, trying to think of things to do so as to avoid the appearance of unseemly haste, and she was glad for the time to collect her thoughts, because she was getting scared.

  Never before in her life had this step loomed so large. They'd made love before, that one, brief encounter in the night. But that hardly counted now. That was one wild and crazy moment in the heat of passion. This was much more cold-blooded. This time, it was for real. This time, judgments might be made, plans set, evaluations set in motion.

  What if she disappointed him? What if she didn't match his dreams? Could she survive seeing disillusionment in his eyes?

  He took her out to the marina to see his Dutch-built yacht. As they walked along the boarded wharf he was hailed half a dozen times. Terry looked around at the blue canvas, white paint, and hand-rubbed teak of the boats bobbing along the walkway. Everything looked clean and new and expensive. She glanced at the smiles that greeted Rick and she knew she was moving in a very rich crowd. And she was just a servant. What was she doing here?