by Unknown
"Just as well, the flowers were taking over the house." He frowned, looking so much like a mirror image of Eleanor except for his silver hair and wrinkles that she smiled. "Did you and Keegan have words?"
Her eyebrows arched. "Why do you ask?"
"He came out looking like a thunderhead, muttered something about a meeting and dashed out. It's our chess night, you know."
"Oh, I forgot," she replied honestly. "I didn't remember."
"You don't pay a lot of attention to him these days, do you? Used to be wild about him, too. I remember how you cried when he got engaged. You went rushing off to nurse's training in Louisville that same week." He started to fill his pipe, aware of her sudden color. "I don't think it's just to see me that he's starting hanging around here so much, Eleanor."
"Well, don't make the mistake of thinking he's mad about me," she replied. "I know better."
He met her gaze. "He's been hanging around here longer than you realize," he replied. "You haven't noticed."
"I don't want to notice. Please don't play Cupid, darling. Keegan doesn't interest me that way. Not anymore. Now, Wade," she murmured dryly, "is another matter."
"Do you think he'll keep coming when he sees where we live?" he asked bluntly.
"Of course," she said with a grin. "He's no snob."
He shifted in his rocking chair and set it into motion as he lit his pipe. "I'll wait and find out for myself, if you don't mind."
"If you think we need improvements, ask your friend the farm tycoon," she told him. "Use your influence."
"I wouldn't dream of it!" he sputtered, glowering at her. "And you might remember that his daddy made his money the hard way. He wasn't bom into money, he earned it. The Taber farm is... Where are you going?"
"I've heard this sermon before." She sighed. "I know all about the Tabers. More than I want to know. I have to get dinner."
He studied her stiff back. "You could be a little more hospitable to my chess partner," he told her.
"Oh, I'll strain a muscle being hospitable, you just watch. I'll even curtsy when he walks in the door."
"Don't get smart," he grumbled.
"Okay," she promised. "I'll treat him with all the respect due his age. After all, I am a mere child by comparison." She turned and went into the kitchen. "I'm making spaghetti tonight, if that suits you."
"Suits me fine. Will it suit the snooty dinner guest?''
She glowered at him from the kitchen doorway. "Shame on you. Just because he has money doesn't make him a snob."
' 'Yes, I could say the same thing about Keegan, if you'd listen."
She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Why do you dislike him so?" he asked unexpectedly, his eyes narrowed.
What could she say to that? Telling him the truth was out of the question, and nothing short of it would convince him. She leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile. "He has freckles," she whispered. "I hate freckles."
And while he was laughing at her cheek, she vanished into the kitchen.
Two
Wade was right on time, and Eleanor met him at the door with a bright smile. She had expected to find him wearing slacks and a shirt, as Keegan frequently did when he visited them. But Wade was wearing a very trendy navy-blue blazer with white slacks and a white shirt and tie, and he looked taken aback by Eleanor's neat slacks and blouse.
"Sorry, love, am I overdressed?" he asked apologetically, looking briefly uncomfortable, then even more so as his gaze wandered around the hall, taking in its far-from-recent paint job, worn linoleum and single light bulb hanging bare from the ceiling.
"We're a little primitive around here," she said with a faint smile. "The house was given to us rent free by the Tabers due to the length of my father's employment here. We tend to forget how it looks, but there's never been any reason to update it, you see...."
"Was I criticizing?" he said quickly, and smiled to soften the words. "My world is a bit different, but that doesn't make it better, now does it?" He chuckled.
"No," she said with a laugh. "You're a nice man."
"That's what I've been trying to tell you." He sighed.
She stood back to invite him in, feeling underdressed and underprivileged, even though she knew he hadn't meant to make her feel that way. "Won't you come into the living room and meet my father?"
She led him there, swallowing her embarrassment at the shabbiness of their furniture. The living room needed painting, too—why hadn't she noticed that before now? And the rag—oh, Lord, it was in rags! She hadn't paid the sUghtest attention to the condition of the house since she'd been back. Helping her father since his accident and holding down a full-time job of her own left her just enough time to keep the house clean and neat. And there hadn't been any company to speak of, except other farm employees who were friends of her father...and Keegan, who never seemed to notice where he was, making himself right at home in castle or hovel alike.
Her father would be wearing that sweater with the hole in the sleeve, she reflected, groaning inwardly. He had better ones, but that was his favorite. Smiling, Barnett Whitman extended his hand to Wade, not seeming to notice that he looked positively ragged in his old baggy trousers, faded print shirt and slippers.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Granger," he said easily. "Sorry I'm not getting up, but I've had some trouble with my hip and sitting down feels better."
"Yes, your daughter was telling me about your fall," Wade replied. "I hope it's better."
"I'll be able to go back to work next month," her father assured him. "The Tabers have been wonderful to me, to us."
"I know the Tabers," Wade said. "Keegan's a character, isn't he?" he added conversationally. "Quite a guy."
Her father immediately brightened. Anyone who Uked Keegan was instantly a friend, Eleanor thought with bitter irony.
"Keegan often plays chess with me," Barnett Whitman said proudly.
Wade raised an eyebrow and grinned. "I can't imagine him sitting still that long. He always seems to be on the run, doesn't he?''
"In a dead heat," Barnett agreed with a smile. "But he's a good chess player, for all that."
Quickly Eleanor took Wade's arm and said, "Shall we go into the dining room?" to prevent her father from further extolling the virtues of the one man she wanted to forget. "I hope you like spaghetti, Wade. I was on seven-to-three today, and I didn't have a lot of time to prepare."
"Spaghetti is fine," Wade told her. "I should have brought a bottle of Chianti to go with it. Or a nice rose. What do you have?"
Eleanor stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"
"Wine, darling," he said.
"Oh!" She felt her cheeks grow hot. "I'm sorry, we don't drink."
"I'll have to take you in hand and corrupt you, you innocent little thing. Shhh, we don't want your father to think I'm a rake," he added in a stage whisper.
Her father, liking this obvious attention, grinned as he sat down. Eleanor smiled as Wade seated her, but she felt oddly uncomfortable, as if her social graces were nonexistent. Without meaning to, Wade made her feel like a country mouse.
It wasn't the most successful evening Eleanor had ever had. She felt uncomfortable, although her father did his best to liven things up. By the time dinner was over and Eleanor had served up her special homemade apple pie with ice cream, she was more than willing to show Wade to the door.
He shook hands with her father and walked out onto the porch with Eleanor.
"Not a wild success, was it?" he asked with a rueful smile. "I'm sorry, darling, did I hurt your feelings?"
"Yes, you did," she said, surprised at his perception. "But it's not your fault. It's just...I guess I felt the difference in our situations...."
"You little snob," he accused her lightly.
She blushed furiously. "I am not!"
"I think you're charming, Eleanor Whitman," he said with an intent stare. "A nice person as well as a sexy lady, and I like you. I really didn't come to appraise the furniture," he added wi
th a grin.
"Sorry," she murmured with downcast eyes. "I guess I'm a little uneasy about it, that's all."
"Stop worrying about the differences, and let's concentrate on the things we have in common. Over dinner. Tomorrow night."
She hestitated.
"Come on, sweet thing, you know you want to," he teased, bending to kiss her soft mouth gently. "Come on, go out with me, Ellie."
He made the hated nickname sound special and sweet, and she smiled dreamily up at him. He was handsome, she thought. A nice, lovely, ordinary man, despite his wealth and prominence.
"All right," she agreed.
"Good girl." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, breaking the line of her lips this time. He was adept at lovemaking—it showed in the sensuous deliberation of bis warm mouth. And if some spark was missing, Eleanor ignored it. It was very pleasant to kiss him. She relaxed and gave him her mouth, smiling when he finally drew back.
"Whew!" he whistled, looking breathless. "Sweetheart, you're delicious."
She laughed at the warmth in his eyes. He made her feel special, womanly.
"So innocent," he murmured. He drew her closer, nuzzling his chin against her forehead. "I like that, I like being with an innocent woman for a change. It's exciting."
He thought her inexperienced, and in a sense she was. But he was obviously making assumptions about her innocence that were false, and she didn't know how to correct him. She drew back, looking up at him, and her eyes were worried.
"Such a frown," he murmured. "Don't. I'm not that much a wolf, Little Red Riding Hood. I'll take care of you. I'll give you plenty of time. Now go back inside, it's chilly out here. I'll call you tomorrow, all right?"
She beamed. "All right."
"I enjoyed dinner," he murmured. "But dessert was the best course." Bending, he drew her completely against him and kissed her hungrily.
She should have told him. But there would be time for that, later. And she might never have to tell him. She wasn't planning on having an affair with him, and she was sure that wasn't what he had in mind, either. He seemed to be serious. That would make a nice change. She might enjoy letting him be serious about her. She kissed him back, sighing when he released her. If only she could forget how it had felt when Keegan had kissed her....
"Good night, darling," he said in a shaky whisper, and ran down the steps to his Mercedes convertible. He started up the engine and waved, his dark hair ruffling in the night breeze as he turned the car and sped away.
Eleanor drifted back inside, feeling a little removed from reality. It hadn't been a total loss, this evening. Something wonderful might come of it.
"He's a nice man," her father said kindly. "Is it serious?"
"Serious!" she burst out, throwing up her hands. "One date, and you're wording wedding invitations!"
"So I'm anxious to see you happily settled," he grumbled, and glared at her. "Get married. Have children! I'm not getting any younger!"
"At the rate you're going, you'll outlive me!" she threw back.
He made a rough sound under his breath, got out his copy of Thucydides and began reading, deliberately ignoring her. She laughed as she went into the kitchen to wash up.
She was off the next day, having worked nine days in a row to compensate for a personnel shortage following a viral outbreak. Wade called early and had to break their dinner date because of business. He was going to be busy until the weekend, he said, but could she go to a party with him Saturday night at a nearby estate?
Eleanor held her breath, trying to figure out whom she could swap duty with to make it. Yes, she said finally, she'd work it out somehow. He told her when to expect him and rang off.
Immediately, Eleanor dialed her friend Darcy at the hospital. Darcy would take over for her, she knew, if she agreed to work Friday for Darcy.
"Can you cover for me Saturday night if I cover for you Friday night?" she asked breathlessly when her friend answered the phone. "I've got this really hot date."
"You, with a hot date?" Darcy gasped. "My gosh, I'd get up off my deathbed to cover for you if you're really going out with a man! It is a man?" she asked. "Not some sweet old gentleman you're taking pity on?"
"It is a man. It's Wade." She sighed. Darcy paused. "Honey, I hope you know what you're doing. That isn't a man, it's a ladykiller."
"I'm a big girl now."
"A babe in the woods."
"Not quite," Eleanor said gently. "Not at all anymore."
Darcy sighed. "Well, I should be shot for agreeing, but I will. Where are you going?"
"To a cocktail party at the Blake estate."
"The Blakes own half of Fayette County!"
"Yes, I know. I'm so nervous. I thought I'd wear that little black cocktail dress I wore to our Christmas party...."
"You will not! It's three years old! I have a strappy little gray silk number, you'll wear that. It will just fit you. And I have an evening bag and shoes to match. No arguments. I'm not sending you to the Blakes' looking like something out of a Salvation Army charity store!"
That cut, because it was how Wade had made her feel. She hesitated, then gave in gracefully. She really did want to go to the party with Wade, to get a taste of that luxurious other world. And her little black dress would only embarrass him.
"Okay," she told Darcy. "You're a pal. I wish I could do something for you."
"You are," came the smug reply. "You're filling in for me Friday so that I can see that new picture with Arnold. Come over Saturday morning and we'll fix you up."
"I'll be there at nine, with coffee and biscuits from the Red Barn, how's that for true friendship?" She laughed.
"That's true friendship," Darcy agreed. "See you then."
Eleanor excitedly told her father about her plans for Saturday, then went back into the kitchen to wash the breakfast dishes, frowning when she heard a car drive up in front. She peeked into the living room, and her heart leaped as Keegan walked into it, frowning and looking worried. He sat down and started talking to her father, fortunately not glancing toward the kitchen. She quickly drew back inside.
She was too far away to hear what was being said, but she had a terrible feeling it had something to do with her. Well, let them talk, it wouldn't stop her. She liked Wade, she'd been in a state of hibernation for over a year, and she was tired of her own company. She wanted to get out and live a little before she turned into a vegetable or an old maid. And if Keegan didn't like it, that was too bad. She didn't care about his opinion. She didn't care about him, either.
The kitchen door opened, and the object of her dark thoughts came into the room, hands rammed into the pockets of his pale slacks. She glanced at him and then concentrated on her dishes.
' 'Can I help you?'' she asked carelessly.
"Your father says you're going to a party at the Blakes' with your new boyfriend."
"So what if I am?" she asked coldly.
"You're going to be out of your league, little girl," he said bluntly. "They'll eat you up."
Her cheeks reddened with anger. She put the dishcloth down slowly and turned to face him, her dark eyes narrow and icy. "You don't think I can behave like a lady, is that it?'' she asked, glaring up at him. "Well, don't worry, Mr. Taber, you won't have to suffer my embarrassing presence. And I think the Blakes will manage not to laugh at me."
"I didn't mean... Damn it, girl, will you stop putting words in my mouth? I'm talking about Granger. I've already told you he's a wolf! A rich, sleek, well-fed wolf with a big wallet, just fishing for a naive little girl like you to warm his bed!"
She turned and stared at him. "Just like you," she agreed, and watched him explode, then turned back to her dishes. "Why are you worried about my morals? If I want to be corrupted by someone else, that's my business. Besides, I've always wanted to make love suspended from a tree limb," she added dryly.
"That's what I'm afraid," he murmured, studying her. "Eleanor, you're trying to fit into a world that has nothing of val
ue to offer you."
"Like yours?" she asked politely.
"I'm talking about you and Wade Granger! Aren't you experienced enough to realize why he's sniffing around you?''
He made it sound so cheap and vulgar! "I am not a tramp," she replied through clenched teeth, "despite your efforts to make me feel like one."
"When did I ever do that, Eleanor?" he asked in a deep, poignant tone, his eyes searching hers.
She didn't want to remember that night. "If you want to stay to lunch, I'm making ham sandwiches," she said abruptly, washing a plate hard enough to scrub half the pattern off.
He came up behind her, smelling of tangy cologne. She remembered the scent of it: it had clung to her body that night. It had been on her pillow when she awoke the next morning. It was a graphic reminder of her one lapse in a lifetime of sanity. The warmth of his body radiated toward her, warming her back, threatening her.
"I was careful with you that night," he said, his voice velvety rough, warm. "More careful than I've ever been with a woman, before or since. Even afterward, I was tender. I've never been able to forget it, the way you wanted me at first, the wild little shudders, the sweet cries that pulsed out of you until I hurt you."
"Please," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I don't want to remember!"
"You cried," he murmured. His lean hands smoothed her waist, drew her back so that she rested against his powerful body. "You cried when I took you, looking straight into my eyes, watching... and I felt that you were a virgin, and I tried to stop, but I was so far gone..."
"No!" She wept, lowering her face.
His lips touched her hair, and his hands trembled. "You were fire and honey in my arms," he whispered, "and I remember crying out because the pleasure was an agony."
She tore out of his arms and retreated behind the table, looking across at him with dark, wounded eyes. "Go away!"
His eyes were dark blue with remembered desire, his face shadowed by the flash of light behind him through the curtains. "I will, but the memory won't," he said huskily.
"You used me," she whispered brokenly, involuntarily, letting the hurt show, seeing how his face hardened. "You had a fight with your sophisticated girlfriend, and you took me out to spite her. And like a fool, I thought you'd asked me because you cared about me. It wasn't until...until it was all over, until it was too late, that you told me the truth. I hated you then and I hate you now. I'll hate you until I die, Keegan Taber!"