The Cinderella Scandal

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The Cinderella Scandal Page 13

by Barbara Mccauley


  The media and the gossipmongers would have a field day.

  Unbuttoning his shirt, he closed his eyes on a weary sigh and laid his head back. He could almost smell her sweetness, could almost taste it, could almost hear her laugh, her sigh. Everything about her lingered here.

  On an oath, he rose and walked to his liquor cabinet, pulled out a bottle of Glenlivet, then put it back. Too smooth, he thought, and grabbed a bottle of cheap whiskey instead. He needed something with more of a bite, something he could sink his teeth into.

  Pouring a healthy shot, he tossed it back, felt it burn all the way down, then poured another, hoping like hell it would wash away the lump in his chest that refused to go away.

  * * *

  Crofthaven received its guests with uniformed valets and thousands of twinkling white lights on the front lawn trees. Once whisked inside and coats checked, they were greeted by a five-piece band playing soft pop music and white-gloved waiters serving shrimp toast, salmon-mousse-stuffed cherry tomatoes, melted brie in puff pastry and spicy meatballs in wine sauce. Drinks were available from a full-service bar, while roving wine and soda attendants offered refills for the thirsty crowd.

  By Crofthaven standards, 150 people was not a large party. Abraham and Nicola had invited only the first group of volunteers from the main campaign headquarters and a dozen or so of the campaign's largest donors. The press, a carefully selected few, had also been treated to the evening's festivities. They swarmed through the crowded ballroom like hornets, buzzing with questions disguised as casual conversation, hoping, praying, for the tiniest piece of breaking news, good or bad, though any reporter worth his or her salt knew that bad always made bigger, more interesting headlines.

  Standing by the closed patio French doors with Ian, Reid took in all the people, their smiling faces, bright eyes and animated conversations. Though he'd never much cared for parties, he'd never especially detested them, either. Until tonight.

  Tonight his neck hurt from sleeping on his sofa for the past week; his vision was blurred from sitting at his computer all day while he'd entered docking manifests into a log; and to top it off, he had an annoying twitch in the corner of his left eye.

  When Albert Johnson, one of his father's wealthiest contributors and staunch supporters walked by, Reid forced a smile and thought his face might break.

  "Hard to believe that only a week ago police lines and the coroner's office were center stage here," Ian said quietly to Reid. "It almost seems as if we dreamed the whole thing."

  Nodding, Reid snagged a glass of red wine from a passing tray. He felt that way about Tina, too. As if being with her had never truly happened. That he'd had the ultimate dream that had turned into a nightmare.

  Getting drunk the other night hadn't helped, he thought, taking a gulp of his wine, but what the hell, maybe he'd try it again. "What's really hard to believe is that it hasn't leaked to the press yet."

  "Nicola has a statement ready to go. Two, actually, one if we discover it is Vickie, and the other if it isn't. In the meantime," Ian said somberly, "we wait."

  Reid glanced at his aunt and uncle, who were on the other side of the ballroom. Though they were both smiling and shaking hands with people, Reid knew that on the inside they were anxious and more than a little afraid of what the coroner's results would show.

  He also knew they would have preferred not to show up tonight but had worried that their absence might have led to questions, questions that always led to suspicions that there were problems in the Danforth family. Problems that the other candidates would love to pounce on and blow out of proportion.

  Which is the exact same reason I'm here tonight, Reid thought. He sure didn't feel like shaking hands and making idle conversation, either. What he felt like was putting on a pair of boxing gloves and punching off some of the rage that had been building in him since Tina had walked out of his life.

  He was going absolutely crazy.

  He'd hoped that as each day passed and he stayed away from her he wouldn't miss her so much, that he wouldn't think about her every minute of the day and dream about her at night. What had happened was he missed her more. Not even burying himself in his work and the campaign had eased the tension burning his blood.

  And though he'd told himself he didn't want to be here tonight and he'd only come for appearance's sake, he knew the real reason he was here. The only reason he was here.

  He'd hoped that Tina would come.

  When Ivan and Mariska had walked in several minutes ago without their youngest daughter, Reid's hope had disintegrated. He supposed he understood why she hadn't come, but dammit, if he couldn't do anything else, he'd at least wanted to talk to her. To see her. At this point he was willing to take whatever crumb he could find.

  While he continued to scan the ballroom, just in case he'd missed her come in, he sipped the glass of wine and did his best to listen to Ian discuss a new coffee he'd added to the already extensive menu at D&D's.

  "…full body and the taste is a little sweet…"

  Tina has a sweet taste, Reid thought. And her body … hell, that body drove him mad.

  "…and a smoothness about it that should make it…" Smooth. Tina's skin was silky smooth, like rose petals.

  "…blended is selling well, though there seems to be a preference to hot…"

  Definitely a preference to hot. The image of Tina lying naked under him, whispering his name, her body moving in rhythm with his—dammit!

  He missed everything about her.

  "Something wrong with your eye?" Ian asked, interrupting Reid's wayward thoughts.

  "No." Scowling, Reid touched the corner of his left eye.

  Ian leaned closer. "It's twitching."

  "It's nothing."

  "Nothing." Ian chuckled. "Right. Unless nothing is about Tina."

  "Let it rest, Ian."

  "Sure you don't want to talk about it?" Ian grinned. "Since you're looking like a lovestruck pup, might as well get it off your chest."

  "Are you intentionally trying to provoke me?" Reid asked tightly. "Or does it just come naturally?"

  "Neither." Ian's grin widened. "I just want to watch the look on your face when I tell you that Tina just walked in with her aunt."

  Reid's head snapped around at Ian's comment. He thought for a moment that Ian was messing with his mind. But then he saw her, standing at the ballroom entrance, and his heart stopped, along with his ability to think or breathe.

  She wore red. Not siren red, but deep, deep red, more the color of a fine claret. The dress shimmered snugly around her slim shape, scooped low over her breasts, but stopped demurely at her knees. Her heels were high and shiny black, open at the toes and wrapped around her narrow ankles. She'd done something different to her hair, sort of swept half up and let the other half tumble around her soft shoulders. Her lips were red, too, but her eyes were smoky.

  When she turned and he saw the back of her dress—a lace-up, corset look that exposed just enough skin to make a man need to see more—his heart jumped up into his throat.

  "Can I have her?" Ian sounded hopeful. "'Cause if you're not going to—"

  "Shut up, Ian," Reid growled. "Don't say it, don't even think it, unless you want us to be headline news on the Savannah Morning tomorrow."

  Laughing, Ian rocked back on his heels. "Whatever you say, bro."

  Keeping his gaze on Tina, Reid shoved his glass of wine into Ian's hand and made his way through the crowd.

  * * *

  "Tina, for heaven's sake—" Yana slipped an arm through her niece's "—if you don't breathe, you're going to pass out."

  "I am going to pass out." Tina clung to her aunt's arm, turned them both and made an attempt to drag Yana back to the door they'd just come through. "Please, I can't do this. I know I told you and everyone else I was over Reid, but I lied."

  "I know, Katina." Yana patted Tina's arm and turned them back around again. "We all know. We lied when we told you we believed you."

  "You d
id? They did?" So much for her acting abilities.

  "Of course, dear."

  "Then you know I can't do this." Tina felt the panic rise as her aunt pulled her into the crowd of people. "If I see him, I'll melt into a puddle."

  "Don't be silly. Alexander women do not melt into puddles at men's feet." And them she added with a wink, "At least, not in public."

  Walking with Yana was like the parting of the Red Sea, Tina thought. One look at how beautiful her aunt was, and people just naturally stepped aside. But tonight, Tina also felt that there were eyes on her, as well. Several of the men smiled and nodded as she passed, and the look in their eyes was clearly one of appreciation. She nodded back politely, but without interest.

  There was only one man she was interested in, and he was the one man she couldn't have.

  "Smile, Tina," Yana whispered. "I didn't spend the past two hours fitting this dress to you and fixing your hair for nothing. You are too stunning not to show off."

  "What's the point?" Tina asked quietly. "What does it matter what I look like now? You know Reid and I can't be together. I might as well have come here wearing a sweatsuit, for all that it matters to me."

  "Reid will be the one wearing a sweatsuit," Yana said with a smile. "Believe me, once he takes a look at you, he'll need a nice, long, cold shower."

  "I'll be the one needing a shower," she muttered, and let her aunt lead her to the bar and order them both white wine. Since she knew she was going to have to face Reid tonight sooner or later, it just might help take the edge off her nerves.

  When a hand closed around her arm, she turned.

  Looks like it was going to be sooner, she thought, staring into Reid's deep-blue gaze.

  "Buy you a drink?" he said softly.

  Her heart was too busy doing somersaults to listen to her brain telling her not to fall into his arms. "Okay," she said, more than a little breathless at his touch.

  "Don't be impressed, Katina." Yana stepped between them and gently removed Reid's hand from Tina's arm. "The drinks are free. Hello, Reid."

  Without taking his eyes off Tina, Reid nodded. "Yana."

  Torn between distress and relief at her aunt's interference, Tina barely managed a smile. "It's a lovely party."

  "It is now." He took Tina's arm again. "Why don't I show you around?"

  "I believe you've already done that, dear," Yana said firmly. "And smile for the camera, would you?"

  The hard line on Reid's mouth curved into a smile, and he let go of Tina's arm at the same moment the photographer stepped in front of them. Smiling, Yana moved in closer to Reid, blocking Tina just as the flash of the camera went off. When the photographer moved on, Reid reached for Tina again.

  But Yana was too quick. She slipped her arm into Reid's and smiled at him. "Why don't you take both of us on a tour?"

  He glanced from Yana to Tina. "Sure."

  Trying not to chew off her lipstick, Tina followed hesitantly behind her aunt and Reid. What she should do was run, but she was too weak. Too foolish.

  Too much in love.

  She half listened while Reid gave a brief history of Crofthaven, that it was built over a hundred years ago by his great-grandfather, Hiram Danforth, and was considered a historical landmark. The chandeliers and marble were imported from Europe, the grounds meticulously cared for by an army of gardeners. As they walked through the main entry, Tina marveled at the high ceilings and white columns, the spectacular staircase, the glossy hardwood floors and beautiful furnishings.

  But mostly she marveled at the pleasure of simply being with Reid.

  Pulling her gaze back to the tour, Tina followed Reid and her aunt down a hall off the main entry. They glanced into the music room, which held an elegant baby grand, then moved on to the library. The floor-to-ceiling shelves were mahogany, he explained, the books an ever-growing collection of classic, contemporary and reference.

  Being so close and not being able to touch him, to stand close and breathe in the familiar scent of him was driving her insane. To distract herself she moved to the opposite side of the library and examined a leather-bound collection of twentieth-century Southern poets. When she heard the click of the library door, she turned and realized that Yana had left.

  Alone. She and Reid were alone.

  Her hand shook as she carefully slid the book back into its place on the shelf, then turned to face him. He watched her, his gaze so intense it took her breath away.

  "I've missed you," he said evenly.

  She glanced away. "Reid—"

  He started toward her. She took a step back.

  "This isn't over." He kept moving, making her pulse skip, then race. "We aren't over."

  If only she knew what to do with her hands, maybe she wouldn't want so badly to reach out to him, to tell him she missed him, too, that she didn't want it to be over. All she could do was shake her head.

  "I've made a decision, Tina."

  He never once took his eyes off her, just kept coming. This time when she moved away from him, she ended up in a corner. With nowhere to go, she pressed her back to the shelves and held her breath.

  "Tina." He said her name again so softly, so longingly, she wanted to cry. "I love you."

  Her breath shuddered from her lungs. Had she heard him right? "You … you love me?"

  "Yes."

  When he touched her cheek, she closed her eyes, knew she was trembling, but couldn't stop. How was it possible to feel so wonderful, when she felt so awful at the same time?

  Dear God, help me. For this one moment she couldn't lie, couldn't hold back. Just this one moment.

  "I love you, too."

  "Good." He moved in so close his thighs were touching hers. "It helps when people get married if they love each other."

  Married! Her eyes flew open. He wanted to marry her? Her heart soared, then immediately took a nosedive and she looked away. "You know that's not possible."

  "I won't be without you." He tucked a finger under her chin and brought her face back to his, gazed down at her with a determination that almost had her hoping, almost had her believing. "I can't be without you," he added softly.

  "Nothing has changed," she said, struggling against the moisture burning her eyes.

  "Then we'll make the change. We'll go to Europe." He placed a hand on the wall on either side of her head and leaned in. "It would take months for anyone to track us down there, if ever. We'll live in a villa off the coast of Spain. It's beautiful there. Let me take you. Let me marry you." His mouth brushed hers. "Let me love you."

  How wonderful it sounded. She felt herself sway against him, felt her lips soften against his.

  Then she pulled back, shook her head.

  "How long could we be happy like that?" she said, even as she pictured how beautiful it would be. "How long before you resented me or we missed our lives here?"

  She slipped under his arm, wasn't certain that her knees would carry her to the door. "I'm sorry, Reid. I want to marry you, more than you can imagine. But not like this."

  At the sound of a deep voice clearing his throat, Tina spun around, gasped when she saw Abraham Danforth and her parents standing in the doorway.

  "Dad." Jaw tight, Reid looked at his father, then Mariska and Ivan. "Mariska, Ivan. Would you excuse us, please?"

  They all looked at each other, then stepped into the room. Abraham closed the door behind them.

  "I'm afraid this concerns all of us, son." Abraham locked the door. "We simply can't let this happen."

  "For God's sake, Dad." Reid blew out a breath, then shook his head. "I love this woman. I want to marry her. I'm going to marry her, dammit."

  "How romantic." Tears in her eyes, Mariska stepped to Tina and cupped her face in her hands. "So strong, he is. What fine children you will have."

  "Mom, Dad, Mr. Danforth, I know that you all—" Tina snapped her gaze back to her mother. "What did you say?"

  "I said what fine children you will have, edes szivemn," Mariska repeated, this t
ime adding the endearment. "We did not come to tell you that we object, but to give our blessing."

  "But, Dad—" She looked at her father, then at Abraham. "I can't, we can't…"

  "Did you really think I would stand by and do nothing?" Ivan said with as much irritation in his voice as love. "That I would let you sacrifice yourself for me?"

  With the way her head was spinning, she couldn't think at all. "Everyone gets hurt," she insisted. "Our family, the Danforths. How can Reid and I—" she looked at him, felt her throat thicken with tears "—how could we possibly have any kind of happiness if we've hurt the people we love?"

  "And what kind of happiness could we have—" Mariska said, shaking her head "—if we stole yours?"

  When Reid stepped beside her and slipped an arm around her, Tina let herself lean into him, wondered how she could ever leave the safety and strength she felt there.

  But they were still caught in a vicious circle, and she saw no escape.

  "It did seem like quite the challenge when Ivan and Mariska called me this morning," Abraham said, moving into the room. "Until I learned one interesting bit of information. Does the name Maximilian strike a cord?"

  Not to Tina it didn't, but from the expression on Reid's face, the name meant something to him.

  "Johann Maximilian?" Reid asked.

  Abraham glanced at Tina. "Johann Maximilian is one of our largest shipping clients in Austria. I've known the man for twenty years."

  "I handle his accounts," Reid explained to Tina, though clearly he was as confused as she was by the direction of the conversation. "I've been talking with his office almost every day for over a week, trying to straighten out a mistake with a docking number."

 

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