“No? I don’t think you mean that, darling. Not really.” Her bare leg rubbed against his knee, sparking heat upward. “We’re perfectly safe.”
“Safe?” He was nearly suffocating under the temptation. So easy…so willing. “No, I don’t think so.”
She grinned like a cat closing in on its prey, her arms sliding around his waist and drawing him against her. “Well, not too safe.”
He gripped her shoulders and put her at arm's length, forcing words from his dry throat. “Step away, Vivian.” He walked to the door and jerked it open. The cool air from the lobby blew against his hot face. He drew it into his lungs to remove the scent of her perfume clouding his mind.
“I thought you’d be happy to see me.” Vivian’s cerulean eyes rounded into innocent sapphires, beating against his fragile wall of self-control. “Three months abroad is such a long time.”
Not long enough. The realization arrested his thoughts. Exactly. There had been a sense of freedom at her absence. He wearied from being on full alert every time she neared, anticipating a war of worlds between the past and present. He’d distanced himself from her after his grievous decision two years ago, but her father’s work as Wes’s agent kept Vivian in his life, and guilt bound him all the more.
“Vivian, it is always a pleasure to see you.” He raked his hand through his damp hair and moved behind his plush office chair, a physical barrier. “I do appreciate all the work you and your father have done for my career, but—”
“But?”
Regret softened his voice. “Our relationship ends with friendship.”
Her eyes slid into slits and the manufactured pout dissolved into a grimace. “You don’t know what you want. Three months ago you gave me a parting kiss which spoke of more than friendship.” A kiss she’d given him in front of a crowd of onlookers. Almost as if she’d staged it. A new and unnerving idea pushed forward. Could Vivian be trusted?
“Two years ago, you wanted much more.” Her grin slid wide. “And the news on the street is I didn’t travel to Venice alone.”
Gossip columns and tabloids spreading their usual lies. He rubbed the back of his neck, his jaw firmed against the anger of her hint. Being back in the limelight, as Eisley Barrett called it, came with its price, exaggerations and lack of privacy at the top of the list. “Vivian, that kiss was a—” He almost said mistake, but thought better of it. “Regardless of what the papers say, I can only offer my friendship.”
“It’s been two years. Two.” She rounded the chair and pressed her finger into his chest. The manicured nail edge dug into his skin. “We used to share the same passions, the same dreams. Ever since Jane’s death, you’ve been teetering on the brink of throwing your career away. First, you blamed yourself and disappeared for an entire year, spending your days like a hermit back home in your little hamlet, and then you found religion. From bad to worse.” She rolled her blue eyes, a grimace contorting her features. “And now you’re refusing certain career opportunities on the basis of scruples?” Her brow bent. “Oh yes, I heard about your refusal of the lead in Canmen’s suspense thriller. I can’t believe you declined a certain box-office success. What is wrong with you?”
“I won’t compromise my standards, Vivian. I shouldn’t have with Jane, but I did, and look what happened.”
“Jane made her own decisions, and they were unfortunate. You must make yours. You have this one life to live, these few opportunities for greatness. Take them instead of squandering your time on this worthless—” She picked up the script on his desk and glanced at it in disgust.
Wes steadied his expression, but his jaw tightened. Past or not, guilt or not, with God’s help, he would start over. All things are made new. He clung to that truth like the last breath of a dying man. “I think our definitions of greatness may differ.”
She shook the screenplay at him. “Something like this will lead you nowhere quickly. A third-rate, small film disaster? Father and I are concerned for your future.” Her eyes and voice softened, and he stepped back, away from her searching hand. She didn’t take the hint. “You’re brilliant, talented, and gorgeous. Think of where you were before. On the edge of stardom. I want to see your career blossom. And see you happy, my dear.”
Wes took the screenplay from her and held it as a barrier between their bodies. “And what if this does make me happy? What if an inspiring true story makes me happier than I’ve been in years?”
“As I said before, you don’t really know what you want.” Her eyes glimmered and she pressed her words into a seductive whisper. “Trust me. I do.”
His foot hit the wall behind him. “I’m not the same, Vivian.”
“Words, words, words.” Her smile curled again and her palm slid up his chest. “Actions speak louder. Deep in your virtuous heart, you want me. I’ve felt it in your kiss. Besides, I’m perfect for you. I know all your little secrets, with no strings attached.”
“Vivian, we ended things a long time—”
She placed a finger over his lips. “When you realize you want me back, on those lonely nights in your flat after a long day working with beautiful women, let me know. I’ll never stop reminding you of what we once had.” She pushed away from his chest and took languid steps toward the hall, making every movement of those elegant legs count.
He squeezed his eyes closed.
“I’m very patient.” Stopping at the door, she turned and ran her fingers down her neck, her eyes darkening along with her smile. “But I’ve waited a long time…and I want you.”
Her words simmered with warning.
“You will want me again, Wesley. One kiss is never enough, even for you.” She blew him a slow kiss from the doorway, the shape of her lips and the look in her eyes branded in his mind. Desire and determination. “Cheers.”
She prowled down the hallway. Wes tried not to watch her disappear out the door, but his disobedient eyes admired every step she took. A breeze from her exit cooled the beads of sweat on his face and neck, igniting a shiver.
He closed the door and slammed his fist against it. He was such a fool. Wasn’t it enough that his past haunted his dreams? Did it have to haunt his waking moments too?
I can’t be trusted.
But Father, you can. He massaged his hands into his aching forehead. Please, free me from this hold of my past and give me the strength to choose the right path.
And if actions spoke louder, as Vivian said, his next conversation with Carl Barry would secure his fresh start. God would see to his future. It was time to put the past far behind him.
Chapter Three
“That young woman is Ansley Barnett?”
Eleanor Harrison nailed her husband with a look, daring him to answer in the affirmative.
“Eisley Barrett, and yes, she’s—”
“Not even forty years old.” Eleanor attempted to keep her voice calm. After all, no amount of shock should disrupt her demeanor, but this was far beyond acceptable. “I assumed she’d be closer to Lizzie’s and my ages, not some young woman.”
“You never specified an age requirement, luv.”
“She’s closer to Cate’s and Wes’ age.” Her gaze zeroed in on her husband, who kept his attention firmly planted on his teacup. Coward. “I see the way of it, Daniel Harrison. Haven’t you toyed with such fancies long enough? Wes doesn’t need your meddling hands rummaging around in his romantic affairs. He is old enough to manage them himself.”
“Eleanor, the opportunity arose in such a providential manner—”
“Don’t blame this catastrophe on God.” She released a puff of air from her nose to contain her frustration. What a preposterous notion. An Appalachian? A single mum? The man was utterly off his trolley. “You and Lizzie Worthing have schemed behind my back, haven’t you? I assumed a friend of Lizzie’s to be one of our contemporaries, and here comes a woman half our ages. A single woman, at that. How could you have lied to me?”
“Ellie.” He reached to touch her hand resting on the table
but she pulled away, refusing to soften at the endearment. “I never lied to you, Luv. I merely failed to contradict your false assumptions.”
“Quite. And I suppose the other tidbits of information were true? She’s a mother of three? From some place in Appalachia, wherever that is.”
“When you meet her, you’ll understand. She’s perfect for him.”
“Daniel.” She rapped the table with her napkin. “You and this matchmaking have to stop. I see how Lizzie might amuse herself in such frivolous fashion, but you? How many does this make? Let me think.”
“Ellie, this is the one. I know it.”
The earnestness in his eyes nearly convinced her. As usual, his intentions were in the right place. “Of course, you do.” She tossed her hand at him and turned to sneak another peek at Ansley…Eisley. Whatever the girl’s name was. “So, the dancer from London didn’t work, nor the teacher down in Portsmouth.” Eleanor grimaced her opinion. “And to top it off, he has to contend with the lecherous Vivian Barry, who lurks about Wes like a”—a slight cringe tightened her shoulders, but she managed to keep her teacup steady—“vampire.”
“But Eleanor…”
“Now you’ve resorted to some foreign divorcée with three children whom Lizzie met through the Internet?” She rolled her eyes and felt a sudden ache develop over her right eyebrow. “Really Daniel, what are you thinking? As I’ve told you many times before, our son is quite capable of finding a wife on his own without your interference. He’s thirty-three years old.”
“But she’s perfect for him, Ellie. Genuine. Kind. The two of you will get on splendidly. I’m certain of it.”
“As certain as you were of the previous two young women?”
“She’s nothing like the other women. In fact, she’s everything for which we’ve been praying the past six months. Besides, Lizzie just knew from the start—”
Eleanor shushed him. The ginger-headed woman was moving toward them, scanning the room. She’d give Lizzie Worthing a large piece of her mind, as soon as she sussed out this catastrophe. The last thing Wesley needed was a single mother hunting a husband for herself and father for her children.
Eleanor steadied her shoulders for battle and stood just as Eisley’s gaze found them among the tables of the hotel’s restaurant. Her lips bloomed into a lovely smile, and Eleanor’s skepticism faded slightly. There’s a mercy, anyhow; her teeth are white and a complete set.
A wave of exhaustion wearied her to her bones. Two weeks with an Appalachian?
“Hello again. Long time no see, Mr. H.” Eisley’s voice rang with welcome as she took Daniel’s hand. Eleanor felt her brows skyrocket. Such familiarity. Highly inappropriate.
“An entire hour, I believe.” Daniel chuckled and sent a glance over Eisley’s shoulder to Eleanor. Good heavens, the man was half in love with her already. “This is my wife, Eleanor.”
Eisley released Daniel and before Eleanor could prepare, she was clasped in the grip of a complete stranger, arms trapped at her sides. Her entire body stiffened. This is a fine kettle of fish Lizzie’s cooked up.
“You are so kind to have me. Thank you, Mrs. Harrison.” Eisley stepped back, her green eyes filled with as much animation as her words. “I really can’t express how grateful I am to you.”
“Well, Eisley, I am certain there are many things Daniel hasn’t told me about you, but I…” Eleanor drew in a deep breath for strength. “I look forward to furthering our acquaintance.”
As they took their seats, she speared Daniel with a glare, but if the look she sent left a mark, he didn’t seem to notice. He was completely satisfied in his madness.
Eisley leaned over and whispered, “You have the sweetest husband on the planet.”
To her own astonishment, a smile invaded her face. She managed to control it. Sweet wasn’t the term she’d use to describe her husband at present. Other days, most assuredly, but not today. Mischievous? Misguided? “Yes, he is dear.”
“We have a few surprises in store for you, Eisley.” Daniel winked at Eleanor and a flush erupted in her cheeks. Already the little Appalachian was influencing him. He hadn’t winked at her in years, and she wasn’t certain how she felt about it. “Eleanor’s planned a full schedule for this afternoon since we leave for Derbyshire tomorrow.”
More time with the young Appalachian? The pinch of pain in her forehead deepened. What to do? What to do? She forced a smile. “While we are on the West End, we thought you’d enjoy a visit to Westminster Abbey, and perhaps St. Paul’s.”
“That sounds wonderful!”
Eleanor stumbled over her assumptions at the look of sheer gratitude on Eisley’s face. Genuine. Her eyes held such fascination, it was almost contagious. A voice deep in her heart posed a question. What if Daniel was right? Eleanor closed her eyes and sighed, releasing control for yet another thing in her life. What’s done is done, I suppose.
“Daniel speaks as if he’s known you for years. You’ve made quite an impression on him.”
Eisley grimaced. “Oh dear, with my reckless driving in heels, I might have more likely made a dent.”
Eleanor’s lips quivered with the effort to keep her decorum. She wanted to dislike, or at the very least disprove of Eisley Barrett, but she found herself warming to her a bit. Not enough to wish her into the family, of course, but the girl seemed harmless and much too transparent for her own good.
“And tonight is the gala,” Daniel added into the silence.
Eisley’s body slumped forward until her head rested in her hands. “I don’t think attending the gala is the best idea for me.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and Eleanor felt somewhat disappointed. “I packed one of my poshest dresses. Isn’t that what you called it, Mr. Harrison? Posh?”
Daniel coughed through his laugh.
Eleanor’s rebel lips twisted into a grin. “Yes, though I’m not certain if ‘poshest’ is the word he would have used.”
Eisley leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You know what? When he told me to be sure and pack some Wellies and a Macintosh, I was completely confused. First of all, I had no idea what Wellies were and had to look them up on the computer. Praise God for Google.”
Eleanor didn’t dare make eye contact with Daniel for fear of losing what little control she held over the laughter locked in her throat. Daniel had been right about one thing: Eisley was absolutely nothing like any of Wesley’s former interests. She held a category all her own. For the good or the bad, Eleanor wasn’t certain yet, but a vast improvement over Vivian Barry, at any rate.
“And the Macintosh? I wondered why you preferred Apples to PCs and then I had to look those up, too. Who would have thought rain boots and rain jackets have names of their own in England?”
Daniel’s coughing crescendoed into full laughter.
Eisley wagged her finger at him. “You think it’s funny now, but what if I royally screw up? Are you sure you want to take me to a party? If I had to look up three of the first words you wrote to me, what will it be like for an entire evening?” She raised her palms in surrender. “I think I should stay at the hotel.”
“You’ll be fine, dear. You don’t have to dance, and you have your natural charm.” Of course, Eisley’s variety of charm was a bit out of the ordinary.
“Right. I don’t have to dance. I can just observe from the safe distance of a doorway or closet or something.”
Releasing Eisley Barrett into the high society of the Darlington House might be more than any of them could manage. As Eisley launched into conversation with Daniel about the differences between British and American words, her smile returned. This meeting was not an accident, and Eleanor almost shuddered at the thought of what God’s plans might be. Eisley and Wes? No, of course not. But if they all survived the gala, it might be the beginning of a lovely friendship. And the best part of it all? Vivian Barry would be positively furious.
***
“It looks like a Ferris wheel from outer space.” Eisley tried to focus on t
he London Eye but was already feeling dizzy from her glimpse at the transparent egg-shaped tubes rotating in painfully slow motion. She and heights shared a hate-hate relationship. Her exploits in heels set a clear precedent.
“It has a spectacular view.” Daniel took her elbow and escorted her toward what she feared was the capsule of death, with Wes close behind.
“And we’re fortunate to have a clear day,” Wes added.
Something caught in her throat. Fear, pure and simple. Well, at least she’d die with a spectacular view on a clear day, right? She sent a glance to Heaven, but she had to look past the horrific wheel of terror to do it.
Hadn’t the airport scene been enough to kick her pride into submission? “Maybe I should sit this one out.” She hugged her shaky stomach and shot Wes a warning look. “You know, I just finished that chocolate trifle at lunch.”
“Afraid you’ll lose it?” A glint lit his eyes.
Gee whiz, the guy was teasing her? Unbelievable. He’d shown up just before she left the hotel with his parents and stayed with them from Covent Garden to Westminster Abbey and now here, at the wheel of doom. At first, he oozed as much suspicion as he had in the airport, cloaking his expression with stiff politeness, but within the last few hours, the edge had left him and cut a clear line into her comfort level.
She caught little glimpses of Tollhouse cookie sweetness beneath all those movie posters and acting lessons, and chocolate marked a certain weakness for her. She inwardly groaned and shook off any concern. Mr. Movie Star didn’t pose a threat, so she shrugged the tension from her shoulders and played along. “Who would ever want to lose perfectly good chocolate? Sounds like a crime.”
Wes nudged her forward. Turncoat. “Chocolate is a weakness of yours, is it?”
Had he jumped inside her head? Oh dear, she hoped not. “I’m a sucker for sweets, but nothing tempts me like chocolate.” She took a deep breath and let Wes help her over the threshold of the glass pod. Eisley stumbled with stiff legs to a seat in the middle of the capsule. “About how high do we go?”
Just the Way You Are (A Pleasant Gap Romance Book 1) Page 4