by Janice Lynn
“That’s right. She remarried earlier this year. John Debellis, the stockbroker you don’t like.”
“It’s not that I don’t like him. John’s okay.” Her lips thinned to white lines and her eyes stayed on her freshly manicured hands.
He’d never seen her nails painted, missed their usual natural gleam.
“I can tell you’re jumping for joy over how okay he is.”
“He’s my stepfather. One of many I’ve had.” She shrugged. “There’s no point in liking him. Within another year or two he’ll have found someone new and my mother will become involved with someone else that she’ll likely go on to marry, and he’ll do the same. It’s the way life is.”
Just how many times had Faith’s mother been married?
He would have asked, but the front door flung open and his cousin bounded down the steps, flinging herself at him full force, practically knocking Faith out of his arms.
“Vale!”
Faith squared her shoulders, stood her ground, as if bracing herself for an unpleasant experience. Immediately that unwanted protectiveness came forth in Vale. Did she think his family wouldn’t accept her?
“Meet my cousin Sharon.” He set his cousin on the ground next to him, placed his hand low on Faith’s back. “Don’t mind her antics. She’s been throwing herself at men since she was three.”
Sharon slapped his arm. “Behave. You’ll give your friend the impression I’m wild.”
“You are wild,” he replied, smiling indulgently at the blonde beauty he’d spent most of his youth exploring with, despite being two years older than her. In addition to their Wakefield blue eye color, they’d shared an adventurous spirit.
“Not any more.” She flashed her ring finger in front of his face. A large, multi-faceted diamond twinkled in the sunshine.
“If Steve thinks a rock is going to make you settle down, he’s in for it.”
She grinned. “What makes you think Steve wants me to settle down?”
Vale threw his head back and laughed. “Brave man.”
“Smart, scrumptious man.” Sharon turned to Faith and hugged her as enthusiastically as she’d leapt into Vale’s arms.
He should have known his cousin would make Faith feel welcome. Sharon might be renowned for her outer beauty, but her real beauty came from within.
“It’s so good to meet the woman Vale deems worthy of attending my wedding as his date.” Sharon plopped a kiss on Faith’s pale cheek. “You must be special.”
“I’m more of a friend than date,” she immediately corrected, her posture so perfect the sternest school matron would have applauded.
He stepped forward. “What Faith is trying to say is that we’re co-workers and she doesn’t want anyone to think she’s trying to sleep her way to the top. Particularly me.”
Red splotched her cheeks. Her gaze snapped to his and she outright glared.
Sharon burst out laughing, pulling a stiff Faith into another hug. “Oh, I like her, Vale. She’s not a doormat like most of the women you hang out with. Keep her around, okay?”
Grinning, Vale followed the two women into the house.
He had every intention of keeping Faith around.
Vale’s mother looked more like an older sister than a woman of more than fifty years. Actually, she looked like grown-up Barbie come to life, buzzing in and out of the main living area of the biggest house Faith had ever set foot in.
The Wakefields’ beach home. Their second home. Or would it be their third home as they had a west coast home, too? Hadn’t she read something about an estate on the coast of Italy, too? The whole idea of having multiple homes of this magnitude made Faith’s head spin.
She’d never had a single-unit home, had always lived in an apartment building or college dorm, had always lived in New York. How boring Vale must find her compared to the well-traveled women he usually spent his non-working time with.
But she wasn’t going to let him push her around, or push her into a physical relationship just because she was convenient. Not when her career was at stake. Otherwise she’d be leaping into his arms with just as much exuberance as his cousin had—only Faith’s motives would have been much less pure.
His mother had rushed them inside, thrust drinks into their hands, and directed them to the living room that was double the size of Faith’s entire apartment. Long rectangular windows along every wall boasted panoramic views of the sun going down over the Atlantic. Absolutely breathtaking. Absolutely terrifying. She was so out of her league.
“We’re so glad Vale brought you this weekend, Faith.” His mother leaned in to give her a quick air kiss. Diamonds the size of Texas sparkled on Virginia Wakefield’s manicured fingers. “Be sure to let me know if you need another drink. Or if you forgot anything from home. I always keep extra bare essentials.”
Guilt swam through her at the warm reception Vale’s family greeted her with since she was there under what she considered false pretenses. She’d been so leery of their wealth and figured her lack thereof would be an insurmountable barrier, but they’d been nothing but kind to her from the moment Vale’s exuberant cousin had jumped him.
“I had your luggage put in your room. Faith’s, too.”
“Yes, Mom,” Vale intoned as his mother flitted toward Sharon’s younger sister, Angela.
Faith turned to him. Her luggage was in his room? She supposed that asking for a separate room would raise a few eyebrows. Obviously the women he brought home slept in his room. But she was not one of his women and had no intention of losing her brain this weekend.
Her heart, well, she planned to keep that closely guarded as well because falling for him would be way too easy when he already occupied so much of her thoughts.
Her suitcase was in his room.
She wanted to say something, but bit her tongue. She’d put him on the floor, because if he thought they were sleeping in the same bed, he had another think coming.
Since arriving, he’d been unusually quiet. Unusually attentive. Probably in an effort to convince his family they were truly involved so they wouldn’t start up with the matchmaking.
“Seeing you with your family almost makes you seem like an ordinary man.” Right, because ordinary men drank Cristal from real crystal while walking on gleaming marble floors with million-dollar paintings hanging on the walls. It was enough to make a girl’s neuron synapses fuse.
“I don’t want you to think I’m ordinary.”
She almost snorted. As if.
“No one would ever think you’re ordinary, Vale,” she assured in a purposely condescending tone.
His lips twitched in amusement. “You have a sharp tongue, Faith Fogarty.”
“That’s why you hired me,” she reminded him. “My sharp tongue and sharper wit.”
Vale threw his head back and laughed. Reaching out, he took her hand into his and lifted it to his mouth. “You might just be right about that.”
What was he doing?
Why wasn’t she stopping him?
Why were her knees trembling?
Why was every cell in her body going berserk, wanting to get closer and closer to him?
“Come on. Let’s head outdoors,” Sharon called, rushing everyone out the elaborate glass French doors that led onto a patio boasting a sparkling blue pool and hot tub, along with privacy created by the sand dunes behind the back yard.
A large white marquee had been set up along the back side of the property where the wedding reception would take place. On the opposite side, white chairs had been lined up in neat rows facing a gazebo where the bride and groom would stand, their attendants on the sides.
Still reeling from Vale’s attention, Faith sat in one of the chairs near the middle and watched as Sharon ordered everyone around like a five-star general.
Thirty minutes later, Faith watched Vale take his place yet again two spots down from the groom, watched as they ran through the events one last time. He was bored but humoring his family and as much as she want
ed him to be enough of a distraction to fully occupy her mind, for once he wasn’t.
Sitting was pure torture. Being there was pure torture in so many ways. Each time the wedding march started, bile sloshed in her stomach, burning her throat, making her clench and unclench her fingers.
She detested weddings.
Had from the very first one she’d attended.
That had been the moment she’d had to admit to herself that her father wouldn’t be coming home ever again. That she’d never have her happy family back.
That her father had truly abandoned her and her mother.
That her mother had moved on and so should she. And although her mother moved on, time and again, Faith never had.
Next to Faith, Virginia clapped her hands and sighed, apparently not suffering from a similar distaste for weddings.
“Oh,” she sighed. “Everything is just perfect.”
Perfect, because that’s what weddings were.
Gag. Gag. Gag. Faith resisted the urge to put her finger in her mouth and stimulate her glossophayngeal and vagus nerves. Instead, she glanced back toward Vale.
He’d been looking at her, an odd expression on his face. Not a bad expression, more a quizzical one. Then he smiled, dimples digging into his cheeks, tiny crinkles forming at the corners of his brilliant eyes.
Faith no longer wanted to gag. Instead she fought drooling. Vale Wakefield was one gorgeous man.
He winked and for the first time since they’d come outside she felt a smile tugging at her lips. How could he do that? Take her from misery to better with a mere wink?
“He really likes you.”
Reality kicked in as she turned to Vale’s mother and was once again slammed with guilt, her stomach roiling at the tumultuous ups and downs her emotions were taking. Deceiving this gracious woman just felt wrong. “We work well together.”
“Of course, you do, dear.” Virginia patted her arm and smiled graciously. “You must or he never would have invited you here. I’m so pleased that he did.”
A man setting up the dance floor beneath the pulled-back sides of the tent caught Vale’s mother’s eyes and, with another quick pat and smile, she went off to direct the worker.
“Enjoying yourself?” Vale asked, coming up behind her, pulling her from the chair and wrapping his arms around her waist.
“Vale, don’t,” she bit out. Why was he being so touchy-feely? She wasn’t sure how much more touchy-feely she could handle.
“Don’t?” He didn’t take the hint, didn’t let her go. “I have to keep you close. You’re here to protect me from my family.”
“Sure,” she snorted. “Because now that I’ve met them I see how scary they are.”
“They scare you, too? Now you understand why I need you to intervene.” His smile was contagious, and melted away the worry gnawing in her belly, melted her insides to silly feminine goop.
“They just want you to be happy.” She stepped back, unable to deal with what being in his arms did to her. “If you don’t want them matchmaking, just tell them.”
“I’m so glad you suggested that, because I’ve never thought about just telling my mother that I’m not interested in meeting a nice girl and settling down.”
She narrowed her gaze. “In case you’re wondering, sarcasm does not become you.”
“Haven’t you heard? Everything becomes me.” His movie-star white teeth flashed. Rather than saying anything, he took her hand and led her away from the wedding festivities and out toward the high gate that opened to the sand dunes behind the mansion. A private boardwalk led out to the billowing Atlantic.
Faith’s breath caught at the beauty of the white-capped waves rolling in, at how the almost set sun painted the sky with pinks, purples, and blues.
For just a moment she wanted to believe this was real, that Vale had invited her to his parents’ this weekend because he wanted to be with her, that he missed her as much as she missed him when they were apart. She wanted to believe that they were going for a walk on the beach, holding hands, sharing the moment when the sun dipped from the sky. Not for show, not as friends or colleagues, but as lovers.
And that when it was all over she wouldn’t have a broken heart. She definitely wanted to believe that because otherwise how could she allow herself to even indulge in the fantasy?
“Why haven’t you?” She slipped off her heels and wiggled her toes in the warm sand.
He glanced up from where he pulled off his shoes and socks, dropping them onto the sand, and rolled up the cuffs of his dark slacks. “Why haven’t I what?”
He was so gorgeous. More breathtaking than the sunset. More beautiful. More what she wanted, but shouldn’t.
She dropped her heels next to his shoes. “Met a nice girl and settled down.”
“Don’t start, Faith.” He grabbed her hand and headed toward the surf.
“What?” She stumbled, trying to keep up with his pace as he dragged her behind him, sand flying up at her ankles.
“Matchmaking,” he spat the word out. “I don’t need you fixing me up with friends any more than I need my family doing so.”
As if she’d fix Vale up with one of her friends. Besides, thanks to the long hours she worked, few of her friends would even claim her these days.
“I can assure you I’d never do that to any of my friends. I like them too much to introduce them to you.”
“Good, because if I ever marry, I’ll find the woman all by myself.”
Which meant he hadn’t already found her.
Not that Faith thought he had. Just that part of her had hoped someday he’d realize how good it might be between them. Then again, she imagined Vale was the kind of man who it was always good between.
Between the sheets, between the car seats, between the sand and the waves.
Where had that thought come from? She wasn’t prone to lust. Was used to dealing with how he made her feel and usually did a great job of suppressing her baser instincts. So why hadn’t she then?
She gulped, tearing her gaze from him to stare out at the ocean. Coming here with him had been a horrible mistake. One she’d likely live to regret.
“What about you?”
“Me?” She knew his gaze was on her, but she didn’t dare look at him. He’d see too much in her eyes, would instantly realize that she’d met the man she wanted for all time during a job interview eighteen months ago.
No! She hadn’t met the man she wanted for all time. Vale was not that man. There was no that man. All she felt for Vale was physical attraction and professional admiration. That was it. Nothing more.
“Why haven’t you married?” he clarified, his words nipping at her soul as surely as the tide tugged at her feet.
“I imagine someday I’ll meet someone who’ll sweep me off my feet.” Someone who’d make her forget how Vale’s lips had felt against hers, how even now thoughts of him pushing her back onto the sand and kissing her danced through her mind. Not that she thought things would last with that man either. She didn’t.
Men left. It was what they did best.
“And give you babies to take to soccer practice?”
She tried not to let images of blue-eyed imps dribbling the ball toward the goal take over her mind. She did not want to have Vale’s babies. She didn’t want babies period. Sure, the making them might be fun, but then she’d be like her mother, alone, raising a child.
Only her mother hadn’t been able to stand being alone and had flitted from one loveless marriage to another, from one man who’d eventually leave her to another.
“I’m in no hurry at this point in my life to meet someone or even think about marriage and babies. My career is what’s most important.”
“Until you achieve your career goals?” he teased, but his eyes held a steely quality.
“It’s not as if I’m going to reach a certain point, mark my career off my life to-do list, then move on to marriage and children, Vale.” She glanced out at the horizon, spotting the silho
uette of a ferry off in the distance. “Just that at some point down the line I’d like to believe I can have all the things I want.”
She wouldn’t remind him that what she wanted was a real house with a real yard for her dog to play in. No man required.
“You’re a special woman, Faith. If anyone can ever have it all, I’m sure it’s you.”
She glanced at him, saw the sincerity on his face, and smiled. “Thank you, Vale. That quite simply might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“You jest.” His forehead wrinkled. “I’ve complimented you before.”
“About my work, yes. Me? No.”
He stopped walking, turned to face her. His hand squeezed hers reassuringly. “Just tonight I told you what a beautiful woman you are.”
“Tthat’s d-different,” she stammered, wondering at the light in his eyes. Was it the reflection of the last golden rays dancing across the sky? Or was Vale looking at her as if she really was beautiful?
His brow lifted. “Because you don’t believe me when I say that you are beautiful?”
“I’ve seen the women you date. I’m not even in the same league.” Models, actresses, heiresses, he went through them all.
“True,” he agreed, twisting the knife in her gut. He could at least have been polite and not said anything.
She’d never have him, knew she never would, and was foolish to have these momentary lapses where she dreamed she might.
“None of the women I’ve known hold a candle to you, Faith. Not a single one.”
She wanted to look away, wanted to shield her eyes from his, but she couldn’t. Not when he looked at her as if he believed what he said, as if he really did believe she was more beautiful than the women he escorted to New York’s finest venues. What else had they put in her hair color other than truth serum? A dose of hear what you want to hear?
“Thank you,” she said for lack of knowing what else to say but knowing the situation called for something. She was imagining the softening of his gaze, the pressure of his hand holding hers. “That’s a kind thing to say.”
“You don’t make me feel kind, Faith.”