by Judith Stacy
“Then what is it? Why are you leaving?”
Brenna squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “It’s just so…difficult.”
“Richard, you mean.”
Brenna nodded miserably. “And now he’s going to the park with us on Sunday.”
“Don’t you want him to go?”
“Of course I want him to. But—but it’s so hard being around him when—”
“When you love him so much?”
Brenna let out a breath. “Yes,” she whispered. “I love him and I’m poison for him.”
Caroline’s heart ached along with Brenna’s.
“He cares about you, too, Brenna. I see it in him every time he looks at you, every time you’re together.”
“But I’m all wrong for him. I’m—I’m not good enough for him. We both know it.” Brenna pressed her fingers to her lips. “That’s why I think it would be easier if I left.”
“There must be a way,” Caroline said.
“There isn’t. You know it, I know it, Richard knows it.” Brenna sighed. “None of us will face it. And we must.”
“Leaving isn’t the answer.”
“It might be,” Brenna said. “If I’m not around, if Richard doesn’t see me every day, he’ll move on. He’ll find himself a wife who can elevate him to the position he deserves.”
“You’d do that for Richard?” Caroline asked. “You love him that much?”
Brenna pressed her lips together, holding back her tears. “I know how the world works. He’ll never have anything if he marries me.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Caroline said.
“Los Angeles, San Francisco, New York—the people are all the same. Richard will never be accepted if he’s married to a woman of the working class.”
“But there’re other places to live,” Caroline offered.
“Richard knows people here, in this city. He can’t start over someplace else.”
Brenna sank into the overstuffed chair, too weary to stand. Caroline sighed heavily, knowing Brenna was right, but not wanting to accept it. The upper class was an elite group. A tight, closed circle. She’d been accepted only because Delfina had introduced her and because her father was well-known in Europe. Brenna didn’t have such an entrance.
“But what about Joey?” Caroline asked.
Brenna touched her finger to the corners of her eyes. “It will break my heart to leave him.”
“He’s already lost his mother, and not fully accepted it,” Caroline said. “What will happen when you’re gone? He’ll have nightmares about losing you, too.”
“I know. I’ve thought of that.” Brenna looked at Caroline, her face drawn in deep lines. “But I just don’t know what else to do.”
“Something can be done,” Caroline insisted. “I just have to think on it for a while.”
“But we’re going to the park on Sunday.”
Caroline took Brenna’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Go and enjoy it.”
“But—”
“It might be your only day with Richard,” Caroline said. “You might have to leave, he might marry someone else. But you’ll have that one day with him. Enjoy it. Enjoy each other.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” Brenna said. “It’s so painful.”
“Life hurts sometimes,” Caroline agreed. “But wouldn’t it be better to have one glorious day to remember than to have none at all?”
Brenna sniffled. “Yes, I suppose.”
“Of course it would.” Caroline gave her a hug. “Now, I’m going to do some thinking on your situation and see what I can come up with. And in the meantime, stop worrying. We’ll go to the park on Sunday and have a fabulous time. All of us.”
Brenna managed a weak smile. “I’m afraid to get my hopes up.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Not yet, anyway. Just enjoy Richard and Joey on Sunday,” Caroline said. “That’s the best we can do right now.”
Brenna pulled in a fortifying breath. “All right. I’ll do it.”
“Good.”
Caroline walked with her to the door. Brenna turned back.
“What about you and Stephen?” she asked.
Caroline stopped still. “Stephen and me?”
“Yes,” Brenna said. “There’s something between the two of you. It’s so obvious.”
“You’re just letting your own feelings for Richard spill over onto us,” Caroline told her.
“No,” Brenna said, shaking her head. “Look how you’ve become a part of his life so easily. Look at how you’ve taken over, all that you’ve done.”
“That only means I’m a busybody who can’t mind my own business,” Caroline said.
“I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes,” Brenna said softly. “And the way he looks at you.”
“You’re mistaken,” Caroline insisted. “Now, you get to bed and quit worrying about things. Joey will be up early and you’ll need all your energy for him.”
Caroline eased Brenna out of her room and closed the door firmly behind her. What had Brenna been thinking? Suggesting something was going on between her and Stephen?
It wasn’t like that, not at all. Caroline switched off the lamp at her bedside and slipped out of her robe. Just because she helped Delfina with the spring cleaning and redecorating the sitting room didn’t mean anything significant. She’d done a few things to make Stephen’s life easier and help him with his business. She shared the pride in Stephen’s success, felt a joy in easing his burden, a satisfaction in joining in his work. But that didn’t mean she was in love with him.
Love?
Caroline sank into the bed. True, he stirred a passion in her. He made her think very unladylike things—made her want to do very unladylike things. But what did passion have to do with marriage and a husband?
Caroline pulled the coverlet over her. In love? With Stephen?
How silly. She didn’t even want a husband.
Did she?
Chapter Sixteen
When Stephen strode into the breakfast room the next morning, Caroline was surprised to see his jacket and vest unbuttoned and his collar open. She never saw him—except on the balcony—when he wasn’t completely dressed, shiny, crisp and neat. She wasn’t expecting this tiny intimacy between them.
He stopped across the table from her, reached into his pocket and pulled out two neckties.
“Which one?” he asked, and held them both up.
Caroline grinned. “Don’t tell me you’ve lost your confidence.”
“Just tired of being picked on,” Stephen said, smiling. “Go ahead. Choose one, so I won’t have to hear about it later today.”
Caroline studied his navy pin-striped suit and the two neckties he held. “The maroon with the white stripe.”
He frowned at his other selection, the gold-and-gray stripe. “What’s wrong with this one?”
“It’s ugly.”
He looked offended. “I like it.”
“Then I’ll donate it to the church clothing drive with your kindest regards,” Caroline said.
“That’s what I get for asking,” Stephen said, but didn’t seem the least offended. He moved to the beveled mirror over the fireplace and looped the tie around his neck.
She’d never seen a man dress before. He lifted his chin to button his collar. His Adam’s apple bobbed. With long, sturdy fingers he crossed the tie, pulled it snug against his throat.
“How long will it take you to complete those handwriting samples I gave you?” Stephen asked, looking at her in the mirror.
“Are you in a hurry for them?” Caroline asked.
He turned, closing up the buttons of his vest. “I’d like to have them by day after tomorrow.”
“I can do that,” she said.
“Good.” Stephen buttoned his jacket and gave his necktie a final tweak. He spread his arms, offering himself for her inspection.
Caroline couldn’t resist having him stand there an extra second or two. He was
so handsome, and for these few moments he was all hers. She could look at him at her leisure, openly, brazenly, instead of catching quick peeks when she thought no one else noticed.
“Perfect,” she declared.
He gave her a little bow. “Thank you.”
Caroline held out her hand. “Give it here.”
He winced. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” She wiggled her fingers.
He huffed and laid the gold-and-gray necktie in her hand. “I still like it.”
“Don’t be hurt that your necktie selections are lacking,” Caroline said. “There are still many things you do well.”
Stephen sat down and paused as he reached for his napkin. “If only you knew.”
Heat coiled in the pit of her stomach and surged through her. A flash of something else zinged along with it. It zapped Stephen, too. They exchanged a glance completely inappropriate for the breakfast table.
The maid came in then and served Stephen his breakfast, pouring coffee from the silver service on the buffet.
“Have you decided what to do about your Johannesburg situation?” Caroline asked, trying to finish her own breakfast without spilling something.
“Not yet,” Stephen said. “Richard and I are still discussing it.”
An awkward moment passed while Caroline tried desperately to think of something else to say. Without conversation, they were left to look at each other, and their looks were proving almost lethal. Of course, conversation didn’t always help, either.
Finally, Caroline rose from the table. “I’ll get to work now.”
“Fine,” Stephen mumbled.
He watched her leave, the gathers of her deep purple dress swaying, tantalizing him, calling to him. The scent of her lingered in the room, and that didn’t help anything.
He had to get her in bed. In that moment, Stephen knew it. There was no way around it. He’d tried to fight off his feelings for her—his lust for her. He could barely keep himself under control when he was around her. In fact, he could hardly contain himself when he simply thought of her.
Caroline Sommerfield was meant for moments between the sheets. Long, hot moments. Moments that stretched into hours, afternoons, nights—the days that followed.
Stephen ached for her. His body pulsed, throbbed. He wanted Caroline, plain and simple.
But actually getting her into his bed wouldn’t be simple at all.
He toyed with his oatmeal and finally set his spoon aside. Caroline was a respectable, genteel woman. Even though she’d let him kiss her, and even kissed him back, she had to be treated carefully. He didn’t want to scare her away.
He knew where her bedroom was. She’d even answered when he’d knocked on her French doors last night. How easy would it be to slip inside her room? Tonight?
Tonight was a long time off. His body couldn’t wait that long. Maybe he could ask her to come up to his room now? Match up his neckties?
A trumped-up story to lure her away was an option. It had worked before, with an innocent invitation to see a new batch of kittens in the carriage house when he was fourteen. And worked well, too. Because when Mary Lynn Carmichael suggested it, he had gone along dumbly and spent thirty minutes in the loft with her that had changed his mind forever about the usefulness of girls.
Of course, to pull off a plan such as that took some finesse. At least it would with Caroline; he’d been an easy mark when Mary Lynn proposed it. But right now he wasn’t thinking too clearly. He never did in this condition.
She was in his office now. Right now. Stephen’s body warmed a few more degrees; his desire flamed hotter. His office. His desk. Caroline in her wide-brimmed hat and her high buttoned shoes. And nothing else.
Slumping forward, Stephen braced his elbows on the table and pressed his palms over his face. What the hell was he thinking? Caroline was a decent woman. He couldn’t just barge into her bedroom, lure her upstairs to his room or have her naked on his desk.
Could he?
Stephen left the breakfast room.
He found Caroline seated at the little table in the corner of his office, working on the handwriting samples, head bent, lips pursed in concentration. Beautiful.
Too beautiful, arousing too urgent a need for any more thinking on Stephen’s part.
He strolled into the office. “Caroline, could you help me a moment? There’re some kittens you might—”
“Kittens?”
“Neckties.” Stephen pulled at his collar. “Neckties. They’re neckties. I hoped you could help me match them up.”
She looked pleased that he’d asked. “Really? You’d like my help?”
“Of course.” He nodded casually toward the door. “They’re upstairs.”
“Upstairs?”
Stephen struggled to keep his face expressionless. “I could have all the suits and shirts and neckties brought down here, but heaven knows how long that would take. Aunt Delfi’s got the servants off doing something. I never even see them anymore. But I could find them and have them cart it all down here, string it across the office—”
“No, that would be too much trouble,” Caroline agreed.
He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling.
“Then you’ll come up and lend me your considerable talents?”
She looked around, unsure. Finally, she rose from the chair. “I suppose it would be all right. Just this once.”
Just this once?
Caroline moved past him, trailing her delicate scent behind. A deep, profound ache caused him to shudder—a result of his need for her, rather than his conscience, or so he told himself.
Stephen watched her glide down the hallway toward the staircase, heading up to his bedroom, calling to him with each sway of her hips.
He wanted her. Right now, he wanted Caroline. He wanted her in his bed, on his desk, in the hall-way—anywhere. He wanted to hold her, to be inside her, to own her. This minute. Just this once.
Stephen’s lust for her warred with his conscience. Could he have her one time and walk away? Would that be enough to quench his desire for her?
Would he feel like a son of a bitch when it was over? Did she deserve that?
“Dammit…” Stephen mumbled under his breath, then went down the hallway after her. “Caroline?”
She turned. “Is something wrong?”
Once would never be enough. Not with Caroline. That realization was nearly as strong as his desire for her. She was intoxicating, but worse, she was addictive. Stephen would never get enough of her if he rolled around in bed with her for the rest of the week…the rest of his life.
He stopped in front of her and stood close, too close. She backed up a step. He followed. She bumped against the wall.
“Never mind about the neckties,” Stephen said, and braced his arm against the wall, hating himself and his conscience for doing the decent thing.
“You’re sure?”
Caroline gazed up at him with big, blue eyes. Their faces were inches apart, their bodies the same. Raw passion churned inside him.
“I’m…sure.” The words hung in his throat for a moment, but he got them out.
“Another time?”
He wanted to press against her, feel her flesh give way to his. Wanted to kiss her, blend their mouths together.
Instead, Stephen stepped away. He would always want her this badly. It had become the one constant in his life.
Before, he’d believed differently. Nothing lasted a lifetime. Nothing was forever. In business he worked for today and built for tomorrow. With family—and women—he counted on neither.
Except maybe Caroline. Why was she different?
Stephen didn’t know and he couldn’t seem to think hard enough to come up with an answer. At least not at the moment.
He nodded down the hallway. “I’ve got work to do.”
Stephen returned to his office, thick with need, aching with want.
What the hell was wrong with him? He fell into his chair. He
’d used women once or twice and forgotten them. Thought nothing of it.
Why was it so different with Caroline? The only thing he knew for certain was that he couldn’t bear to be with her and couldn’t bear to be apart from her. And where did that leave him?
Caroline turned in a quick circle before the mirror in her dressing room. Yellow skirt, white-and-yellow striped blouse with a high collar, and a straw skimmer. She gave herself a nod of approval. Perfect for a Sunday afternoon at the park.
She gathered her small white handbag and parasol and left her room. Brenna and Joey were in the hallway just ahead of her. Joey, dressed in a white sailor suit, tugged at Brenna’s arm, pulling her along behind him.
“Ready for the park, Joey?” Caroline asked, catching up with them.
He hopped up and down, nearly losing his hat. “They gots boats. Real boats. I can ride in them. Uncle Richard said so.”
Brenna smiled down at the child. “He’s been wound up like a top since he got up this morning.”
“Good thing there’s three of us to keep up with him.” Caroline touched Brenna’s arm. “Are you all right about going today?”
Brenna nodded. “I decided you’re right. I’m just going to enjoy the day with Richard and not worry about tomorrow.”
“Good,” Caroline said. Brenna looked bright and happy in a pink dress and white hat, and Caroline was sure she meant what she said.
Richard waited at the bottom of the staircase, dressed casually in cream trousers and a brown checked jacket. His face lit up when he saw them.
Joey broke away from Brenna and rattled down the stairs.
“There’s my boy,” Richard said, and swung the child into his arms.
“Can we ride the boats first, Uncle Richard? Can we? I want to ride them all day!”
“We’ll ride until we’re sick,” Richard promised. He turned to Caroline and Brenna. “And what a lucky man I am, to have two such beautiful women all to myself today.”
“Not completely.” Stephen came down the hallway wearing white trousers, a blue jacket and a straw boater. “I’d like to share in some of that good fortune,” he said.
“I thought you were working today,” Richard said.
“I decided a change of scenery might help,” Stephen said. He looked at the women. “No objections, I hope?”