. If you’d like to stay there before then, I’ll leave a key with Mrs. Johannsen.”
Tess couldn’t answer. Her insides were tied up too tightly in knots.
“We can file for divorce in November,” he went on. “I’m sorry if the wait causes you problems with … your personal plans.”
“It won’t.”
He didn’t answer for a while. “Good.” He cleared his throat. “Well…”
And she realized he was about to hang up, and she probably wouldn’t talk to him again until their divorce. Their divorce. A fresh wave of pain hit her. “The curse,” she murmured distractedly. “Did Professor O’Brian call you about it?”
“Yes. She said it was a hoax.”
She wondered why the professor hadn’t admitted talking to Cole. “She seemed to think you might know who perpetrated it.” When he didn’t reply, she prodded, “Why would she think that?”
“I, uh … might have mentioned that I planned to call my great aunt.”
“Your great aunt?”
“Edna. I asked if she knew anything about the curse being a hoax. She didn’t, but she remembered something about two teenagers—a McCrary girl and a Westcott boy—back in the 1920’s. They wanted to marry, and their families didn’t approve. We think it’s possible that they wrote the curses in their family bibles to push their parents into allowing the marriage.”
Something about that didn’t seem quite right. Two teenagers, writing a curse in ancient Gaelic… “What happened to them?”
“They grew up and went their separate ways. The point is, the curse was just a ploy dreamt up by two kids. There was no vengeful, heartbroken woman involved, no Gullah maid with Lowcountry magic chanting spells while she wrote it.”
Which meant there was no need for planting the seed. Or satisfying his needs. Or his keeping only unto her.
“So you don’t have to worry, Tess,” he gently concluded, “that our separation will cause repercussions. The curse isn’t real. Our families will be okay.”
A warm sheen distorted her vision. She stared at the diamonds on her left hand. “I’ll leave the wedding ring at your house,” she whispered.
“No.” His voice had grown gruff. “Wear it until we … divorce. Then you can keep it, or … or sell it.”
She violently compressed her trembling lips. When had she fallen so much in love with him?
“Thank you, Tess,” he rasped, “for helping me keep my home. I wish you the best.”
*
Chapter 11
« ^
“He’s not here for your sister’s wedding? You’ve only been married a month, and Westcott’s already found better things to do?”
Tess cringed at her Aunt Sophie’s strident voice, which carried to the far reaches of even this massive, crowded reception hall. As other guests turned and glanced, Tess replied with a determined smile, “Cole’s business keeps him very busy.”
“I’ll bet I know what kind of business he’s up to.” She did, at least, have the mercy to lower her voice. “If I were you, I’d divorce him and marry Phillip. You don’t see him traipsing off and staying gone on business trips all the time.”
Tess stared at her aunt in disbelief. Just because Phillip was here now—a highly visible member of the bridal party—she’d obviously forgotten that he’d spent a year “traipsing off” to godforsaken places in the name of anthropology.
Not that it mattered. Any of it. Aunt Sophie could say anything she liked. Tess would stick to the agreed-upon story, even if it killed her. And she was afraid it might. “Cole is on the road a lot, but we’re doing fine. And Phillip and I are just friends.”
“You were a fool to toss Phillip over for Westcott. He’s playing fast and loose with you. I saw that interview you two gave on television, saying how you were in love. I know you don’t lie, but those Westcott men are pros at it. You can’t let a sweet talker like him sweep you off your feet. Mark my words—he’ll divorce you as soon as the legal time period is up for his father’s will.”
Pain glanced through Tess. Aunt Sophie would be congratulating herself come November.
While Sophie sailed off in search of her next victim, Tess clenched her fists and headed for the back garden. She had to get out of here. She couldn’t take any more interrogations or advice. She and her parents had agreed to present the story Cole had suggested—that his business kept him on the road. No one wanted to take the chance of endangering his inheritance. Her family had too much to lose.
The price, of course, was that Tess played the part of a newlywed left alone, spending a suspicious number of nights at her “sister’s” apartment. Friends had come to believe the same as Aunt Sophie—that she’d fallen in love with a smooth talker who’d charmed her into marrying him, but wanted her only to satisfy his father’s will.
But it hadn’t been like that. Had it?
Her mother’s most inquisitive neighbor loomed up ahead of her. Tess turned toward a secluded corner, desperate to escape notice.
“Forget about the potted palm. The leaves aren’t thick enough.” Lianna materialized beside her with a toss of her tawny spiral curls and an impish grin. “We could always crawl under the ice sculpture table, but we’d probably be dripped on.”
“I’m willing to risk it.” Tess turned her back to the crowded room and faced her friend as if in earnest private conversation. Not many people would intrude. “If Mrs. Laslow heads this way, let me know. That ice sculpture could drip all it wants—I’m under there.”
“You’re safe. Mrs. Laslow veered off toward the cheese ball,” Lianna reported. As a waiter walked by with a tray of champagne, she grabbed two glasses and pressed one into Tess’s hand. “Down this and you won’t mind the questions as much.”
Tess took a few sips, but the cool fizz resurrected memories of drinking champagne on her wedding night. Champagne that Cole had poured, in his bedroom. Wearing nothing but a green silk robe. Right before they’d—
Pain billowed in her, and she set the glass down on a nearby table. “I’d better not. Who knows what might come out of my mouth the next time someone asks a question.”
Maybe the truth. That he’d left her. That he’d wrapped up his business in a tidy little package and hit the road. That she thought of him every day, every hour, but hadn’t heard from him in a month. A whole month. Without Cole.
Excruciating.
“Tess, I know that you and your parents agreed to keep quiet about the deals with Cole, and you’ve been telling me that you don’t mind him being gone.” Lianna peered at her in concern. “You say you’re fine with the divorce in November, but—”
“That’s all there is to it, Li,” Tess fiercely insisted. Shifting her gaze to the wall, she willed away an annoying warmth filling her eyes. She saw no use in burdening Lianna with her troubles. There was nothing anyone could do about the pain.
But every day was getting harder to bear, and today had been the worst. Not that she wasn’t happy for Kristen and Josh. As their maid of honor—or “matron of honor,” technically speaking—she’d stood near the flower-decked altar while they’d tenderly spoken their vows in the cathedral. A beautiful, glowing bride with her lovestruck young groom, they’d fervently promised each other forever.
Their happiness had warmed Tess.
But she couldn’t help remembering her own wedding, a month ago, in a chapel of empty pews. A ceremony of empty vows. A kiss filled with passion that still burned in her heart. A ring imbued with memories that still made her throat tight with pain.
Lianna mercifully turned her gaze away from Tess and was distracted by something beyond her. “Oh, your poor cousin. Your Aunt Zoe’s dragging her from guy to guy again, trying to find her a husband. She’s zeroing in on one now.” Lianna’s tawny brows rose. “Hmmm. She doesn’t have bad taste. I haven’t seen his face yet, but the rest of him looks pretty darn—” Lianna broke off, and her brown eyes grew wide. “Oh … my … God.”
Tess frowned. “What is it
? What’s wrong, Li?”
“You won’t believe who Zoe is trying to net.”
Unable to resist, Tess peeked over her shoulder. And her heart turned over with a painful thud. Cole. Cole stood across the reception hall from her—tall, broad-shouldered and heartbreakingly handsome in an elegant black tuxedo, an ivory shirt and matching tie. His gaze raked the crowd.
What was he doing here?
Panic filled her. She couldn’t deal with him now. She needed time to brace herself. Fortify her defenses.
“Uh-oh,” Lianna warned from the side of her mouth. “Here comes your mother, and she doesn’t look happy.”
Her mother’s perfume wafted to Tess before a hand grabbed her arm in a panicked grip. “What’s he doing here, honey?” Her worried gaze was, of course, aimed at Cole, whose attention had been snagged by Aunt Zoe. “How did he even know about the wedding? I didn’t send him an invitation. And I know that Kristen didn’t.”
No doubt about that. Her sister and parents were afraid she’d been taking her relationship with Cole too seriously. They wouldn’t welcome the fox in the henhouse. Maybe they had a point. “I didn’t invite him.”
“I hope there won’t be trouble,” her mother fretted. “I know that technically he’s your husband, and we’ve been letting everyone think that your marriage is legitimate, but you know how these McCrary men feel about Westcotts—especially if they believe one of their women is being taken advantage of.”
Tess wrenched her gaze away from Cole and turned her back to the crowd again. Her heart was racing too fast, and her breath was coming in shallow spurts. At least he hadn’t seen her. Thank goodness Aunt Zoe was distracting him.
“Someone needs to make him leave before your father comes in from the bar.”
“Go talk to him, Tess,” Lianna urged. “You know you want to.”
No, she didn’t want to. Her wounds were still too open. And she’d been such a fool, falling in love with him when she’d known it was only a business deal to him—with a little sex on the side.
“Zoe moved on,” Lianna observed. “Cole must have told her he’s married … or he’s wearing his wedding ring.”
He probably was wearing his ring. He’d asked her to wear hers until after their divorce. The thought of that gold band on his finger—the one she’d helped push into place—generated chaotic warmth in her stomach. And the idea that he had come, uninvited, to Kristen’s wedding, churned that warmth into a glowing, painful force.
Why was he here?
*
Why the hell was he here? He’d made up his mind a month ago to leave Tess to the man she loved. So what was he doing at her sister’s wedding?
Standing beside one of the marble pillars in the posh, candle-studded reception hall, Cole searched the formally dressed crowd. She shouldn’t be too hard to find, with that vibrant auburn hair and flashing smile.
Pain flickered through him and he cursed himself. He should have thrown the invitation away. But the fact that he’d received an invitation—not to mention the unsigned personal note inside—had piqued his curiosity beyond bearing. What had it meant? He had to find out.
And he wanted to see her again.
Just once. He’d settle for once. Unless something, anything, gave him the idea that she still wanted him. Then Phillip would have a fight on his hands. Figuratively speaking. Or literally, if it came down to it.
He’d spotted Phillip in the bar at the front of the complex. He’d been laughing and smoking cigars with a group of men that included Ian McCrary. Cole recognized Phillip from Tess’s photo. His hair was longer, and he’d grown a mustache, but he otherwise looked the same. His imprisonment apparently hadn’t devastated him.
He was a member of the bridal party. An integral part of her family. And why wouldn’t he be? After November, he’d be her husband.
Pain coursed in harder currents through Cole’s chest. Was she sleeping with him these days? Playing, laughing with him? Cole thrust his hands into his pockets and clenched his fists. He shouldn’t have come.
The band struck up a dance tune and the floor filled with couples, blocking his view of half the room. Edging between crowded, candle-lit tables, he scanned the faces.
Would Tess be happy to see him? Dismayed? Indifferent? He had no idea how she felt about him. The subject utterly confused him. How could she have made love to him with such passion and tenderness if she loved someone else?
Maybe that was why he’d let the invitation goad him into coming here tonight. Because the longer he thought about it, the less sense it made.
Curious gazes followed him. Recognition lit a few faces. Probably from his televised interview with Tess. Only one guest had spoken to him. She obviously hadn’t recognized him. She’d asked if he was married. He’d brandished his wedding band.
The ring had come in handy over the past month.
“So-o-o, you finally decided to show.” A short, bulky old gal with a crotchety frown blocked his path. “Don’t think you’re doing my niece any big favor. She’s doing fine, just fine, while you’re out carousing on your business trips.”
Cole narrowed his eyes. She’d bellowed loud enough that others had turned to stare. At least he knew now that people believed Tess and he were still together. What role, then, did they assume Phillip played in her life? “I take it you’re Tess’s aunt?”
“Sophie. Sophie McCrary. That’s Ms. McCrary to you.”
He recognized her name. You can ask my Aunt Sophie to marry you, but she’d probably hit you with her umbrella. Now he understood the beguiling sparkle that had played in Tess’s eyes. “Where is Tess?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He’d had enough of Aunt Sophie. Leaning close, he peered sternly at her. “Yes, I would. And if you were twenty years younger, I’d turn you over my knee and teach you a lesson for butting into our personal business.”
Her gun-gray brows shot up. “Twenty years younger?” A gratified flush rose into her face. “I’d like to see you turn a fifty-year-old woman over your knee, sonny. “
Fifty. Right. Twenty years ago, she couldn’t have been less than sixty-two. He winked at her. She scowled. But the ferocity had left her.
“Where’s my wife?”
“Headed for the potted palm, last time I noticed.” She jerked her head.
He glanced in that direction.
And he saw her, across the crowded room. Staring at him.
Her vivid auburn hair was caught up in sexy, loose curls, as it had been on their wedding day. She wore a shimmery bronze gown that he’d seen on the other bridesmaids. On Tess, it looked uniquely elegant. Sleek. Alluring. Thin straps crossed each shapely shoulder—shoulders he’d held and kissed … and lathered with soap suds…
The pain in him increased. She was too damn beautiful. And she wasn’t his.
He stood, hands in pockets, without moving. Things were much worse than he’d thought. He’d convinced himself that in time, he’d get over her. He knew now that it wasn’t true. Nothing, nothing, would stop him from wanting her. Constantly. Endlessly.
She started toward him, her progress slow and hesitant. As she drew closer, her wide, incredulous gray eyes answered at least one of his questions. She hadn’t known about the invitation he’d received.
“What are you doing here?” A curious, breathless, astonished question.
Her nearness shook him. He’d missed her too much. Obsessed over her for too long. He had to push his hands deeper into his pockets to stop from reaching for her. “Same as everyone else,” he replied, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotion.
“Everyone else was invited.”
“So was I.”
“By whom?”
He shrugged. “An invitation came in the mail.” Seeing her disbelief, he reached into his vest pocket, drew out the invitation and flashed it at her.
She gaped in clear surprise. He’d done the same when he’d received it.
Before she asked for a closer ins
pection, he shoved the ivory linen invitation back into his pocket. “Besides, I have important unfinished business to settle.”
The distraction worked. “With my father?”
“No. With you.”
Uncertainty gathered in her gaze, as if she suspected him of meaning something intimately personal by “unfinished business.” Which, of course, he did.
“What business?” she demanded.
“The money I put in your account. You transferred it back to me. Why?”
“I don’t need it.”
“Everyone needs money.”
Defiance warmed her gaze. “I’ll work for mine.”
If he had to provoke her defiance to warm her, so be it. “What about McCrary Place
? Will you give that back to me, too?”
“Yes.”
He frowned. She no longer wanted McCrary Place
? Was she that damn carried away with Phillip that nothing else mattered? Or was this one of those “honor” issues she could be so stubborn about? “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
“I can’t leave.” The suggestion had rattled her. “And this isn’t the time to discuss … business.” She glanced around at guests who were watching them.
Cole leaned his shoulder against a marble pillar and soaked up the sight of her. If he couldn’t have her to himself, he’d take what he could get, with the whole damn McCrary clan looking on. “Then we won’t discuss business.”
She didn’t look reassured. “My mother’s worried that your presence here will stir up trouble.”
“Are you concerned about that, too?” He allowed his gaze to caress her face, her hair, her shoulders … her mouth… “That I might stir up trouble?”
“No,” she breathed. “Well, maybe. I don’t know. I mean—”
“You look beautiful tonight, Tess,” he whispered.
Her gaze meshed with his. She blushed, then looked away. A pulse throbbed at her temple, and her breathing deepened, ever so subtly … the way it used to when he’d rubbed his thumb across her mouth.
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