by Meg Lacey
She lifted onto her elbows. “No. Continue.”
He glared at her for a moment, before admitting what he’d kept to himself when he’d seen her over the past few years. “You turned me on, okay?”
Pointing at her breast, she breathed, “Little ole me?”
“Don’t get too carried away,” he said, his tone dry as dust. “I might like touching the merchandise, but that doesn’t mean I’m buying.”
Her eyes met his, the light in them fading away. After a minute she said, “That’s good, because I’m not for sale.”
“Tell that to your father.” He could have cut out his tongue for allowing that remark to escape.
“What? What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing,” he said, turning away.
She scrambled out of bed and grabbed his arm. “What are you implying?”
“Nothing.” He’d said enough, more than he’d intended. He was reluctant to tell her the truth about her father, about the man she’d always adored. She’d find out about her family’s financial situation and her father’s scheming soon enough.
“Nicholas.”
With a gentle movement, he removed her hand from his arm. “Get dressed and packed, Raven. After breakfast, we’re out of here.”
Jackson ran into Lorianne just outside the dining room. “Hi, you’re up early.”
Lorianne gave him a patient look. “I’m always up early.”
“Oh, oh, that’s right.” He rubbed his forehead. “You’re an early bird, aren’t you?”
Lorianne studied him for a moment before answering, “Are you feeling all right, Jackson?”
“Sure, why?”
Lorianne tilted her head to the side, wrinkling her nose. “You don’t look well. As a matter of fact you look like you haven’t slept at all. It’s the same way you used to look when our parents had parties when we were kids. Remember, after our duty appearances, we wanted to disappear so we could stay up to watch horror films all night.”
Jackson grinned at her. “You used to hide your eyes when the scary parts came on. Then you fell asleep on the sofa.”
“I did not. You imagined that.”
“No, I didn’t. You even snored.”
Lorianne punched his arm. “You take that back.”
Jackson faked a flinch, then said, “Those were happy times, weren’t they?”
“You sound as if happy times are over.”
“It feels like it.”
Lorianne frowned. “Jackson, what happened to your positive attitude?”
“It sank when Nicholas showed up last night. Do you really believe they’re involved?”
Lorianne stared at him and then turned on her heel to enter the dining room. She paused at the door, quoting over her shoulder, “There’s none so blind as those who will not see.”
Nicholas and Raven paused in the entrance of the dining room. The entire family was assembled there, much to Raven’s surprise. As if the two of them were the main feature, all eyes focused on them. Lorianne and Margaret stopped their conversation, J.R. glanced up from his piled-high plate and Nana gave them a queenly nod as Jackson turned from the buffet to serve her.
Raven hesitated, but felt Nicholas’s hand in the center of her back supporting her, urging her forward. She took a reluctant step inside, saying in her gayest voice, “Good morning, everyone. Did you all sleep well? I slept wonderfully. It must be this country air.”
“The windows were closed, pet, and sleep was the last thing on our minds, remember?” Nicholas’s suggestive comment hit the room like a hundred-pound weight dropped from a forty-story building.
So much for civility, Raven thought as Jackson threw them a dagger-sharp glare.
Nicholas wrapped his arms around Raven and announced, “Did I mention that we’re engaged?”
Raven could almost hear the huge sigh of relief from Jackson’s parents, which rather ticked her off. She wouldn’t have been that bad for their son. She wasn’t a leper, for heaven’s sake. She’d had no intention of getting seriously involved with him, but it was the principle of the thing.
J.R. tipped his coffee cup in their direction. “I can’t tell you how delightful that news is to everyone.” Obviously, he was pretending last night’s hallway scene didn’t happen.
“Not everyone, Father,” Jackson denied.
J.R. barreled on as if his son was invisible. “To think we had some small role in reuniting the two of you. Isn’t that great, Margaret?”
“Oh yes.” Margaret cracked a small smile. “Wonderful, wonderful news.”
“Wonderful,” Lorianne echoed.
Nicholas snorted in Raven’s ear. She sent him a look over her shoulder.
“Like a fairy tale,” Margaret continued.
“The fair princess rescued by the dashing prince,” Lorianne added.
At that, Nicholas started coughing to disguise his fit of laughter, at Lorianne’s ironic comment. Raven unwrapped herself from his arms and turned to give him a thump on the back, hissing, “Shut up.”
“I think you’re confusing your folklore, Lorianne,” Jackson said, not bothering to look at her, keeping his hard gaze on Nicholas instead. “This entire thing is more like Beauty and the Beast.”
Nicholas straightened at Jackson’s comment, but before he could open his mouth, Raven leaped in to play the tactful smoother-over. A role as foreign to her as a chew toy to a toothless lion.
“I wonder who he was calling the beast, darling,” she said in a light tone to Nicholas.
It was enough to make Nicholas relax a bit, but the look on his face told Raven he’d deal with Jackson later. A glance at Jackson revealed he would welcome the opportunity.
Nana called a halt to the testosterone display by saying with a wicked sparkle, “Now that the cocks have finished crowing, I think we should have mimosas to celebrate. Don’t you agree, Margaret?”
Margaret responded. “What a delightful idea. Orange juice and champagne is a lovely way to start the day.” She bustled out of the room to make the arrangements.
“Don’t just stand there like lost children,” Nana continued, patting the chairs near her. “Come and have breakfast.”
Again Raven felt the urge to run and was surprised to feel Nicholas also hesitate. Could he be as reluctant to prolong their visit as she? She glanced back at him, but his only response was a brief look, after which he sighed. She started to say something when the pressure of his palm at her waist gently moved her forward.
He settled her in her chair before continuing on to Nana’s. Raven watched as Nicholas grinned then lifted Nana’s hand to his lips for a brief salute. “You’re really enjoying this situation, aren’t you, ma’am?”
Nana chuckled. “I find it highly amusing. You young people are so dramatic.” She glanced at her grandson who had turned back to the buffet. “It’s better than television.”
Jackson brought a plate of fresh fruit back to his grandmother then took a seat beside her. “Anything is better than TV, Nana. Especially those soap operas you’ve become so addicted to.”
“When you’re as old as I am, boy, you have to live vicariously. No man my age can keep up with me.”
Nicholas winked at her. “Then the men in your world are sadly lacking.”
Nana cackled. “That’s right. No stamina.”
Raven laughed. “Not your problem, I suppose?”
Lorianne giggled then covered her mouth as Nana wagged a finger at Raven. “If I were twenty years younger, you wouldn’t have a chance.”
Raven nodded. “I’d fight you for him.”
With an abrupt move, Jackson pushed his chair back and stood up. “I’ll see if Mother needs some help.”
“Good idea,” J.R. said, looking up from his loaded plate. “Lorianne, pass the coffee, please.”
It was another half hour and a couple of celebratory mimosas later before Raven could mention the real reason they’d come into the dining room in the first place. “This has been so lovely that I
hate to cut my…um, our,” she added with a quick glance at Nicholas, “visit short, but we must be on our way.”
“Your way where?” asked Lorianne.
For a moment Raven was speechless. They hadn’t discussed that.
“Back to New York for a few days while I finish some business and then on to Virginia,” Nicholas answered, smooth as a still lake.
Lorianne rested her elbow on the table, cupping her chin as she stared at Nicholas. “What’s in Virginia?”
“My home. It’s time Raven became reacquainted with it.” His chocolate tone, accompanied by the left hand that covered Raven’s shoulder, left no doubt that he intended to re-introduce Raven to his bedroom as soon as possible.
Jackson’s expression darkened another notch as he looked from Nicholas to Raven.
Margaret smiled and said brightly, “Virginia must be so lovely this time of year.”
J.R. looked at his wife as if she’d lost her mind. “It’s the middle of winter there, Margaret, and the entire East Coast is braced for another big snow storm.”
“Oh well.” Margaret shrugged. “Snow is lovely too.”
“I’m glad you think so, my dear, because we have a lot of it at the moment.” J.R. stared down the table at Nicholas. “I hate to tell you, but you won’t be going anywhere today. Probably not for a few days.”
Nicholas frowned. “The roads are that bad?”
“Damn near impossible at the moment.”
Raven was horrified at the thought of another few days spent in this awkward situation, even if it was of her own making—sort of. “But this is upstate New York. You’re used to snow.”
“The snow fell too fast and over too large an area for the crews to keep up. The state and local crews are out in full force—”
“Then—” Raven still hoped it was a mistake.
“They haven’t made a dent. You’re still not going anywhere,” J.R. said.
There was complete silence for a moment. Silence so loud Raven could hear it screaming. The only consolation was that Lorianne and Margaret looked as dismayed as she probably did, while Nicholas looked rather grim. The only one who looked pleased was Jackson.
Finally, Nana broke the silence. “Well, won’t this be fun? I think we should have another mimosa to celebrate.” She punctuated the announcement with a hiccup.
Jackson lifted the pitcher. “Great idea, Nana.” His hungry gaze ran over Raven. “It’s not every day life gives you a second chance.”
Chapter Five
Lorianne hesitated when she saw Jackson standing alone in the drawing room. She’d been looking for him, thinking he might need to talk, but found herself suddenly reluctant to face him. She’d known this man since childhood. She’d watched him grow from gangly youth into polished man, supported him when he needed it, laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t funny, listened with a sympathetic ear as he spoke of his dreams, soothed him when his anger and impatience with his father’s pushing drove him nuts. She even went so far as to temper her criticism of his actions when he needed it; and there were times when he needed it. All because she loved him, had loved him as an adolescent, and loved him still, even now that he was making a fool of himself over Raven Rutledge. Anyone with an ounce of sense could see Raven was just toying with him, but still Jackson was eager to play.
Jackson half-turned in profile and she caught sight of his face, his expression both one of misery and determination. Reluctantly, her heart went out to him. She knew what it felt like to love someone who didn’t love you back. She stepped forward, her heels clicking on the wood floor, drawing his attention.
He turned fully, his face hopeful but sinking into resigned lines when he saw her. Lorianne’s heart sank, but she recovered quickly. One thing she’d learned as a child of a political household was how to hide her feelings.
“Hi,” she said, careful to keep her voice light and her lie believable. “Hope I’m not interrupting. My head’s rather fuzzy, so I thought I’d sit by the fire for a while.”
Jackson shrugged and indicated a sofa. “Be my guest.”
Lorianne nodded and walked over to settle herself on one of the plump cushions as Jackson turned back to stare into the fire. An uncomfortable silence stretched out for a few minutes, the air swirling with emotions. She studied Jackson’s drooping shoulders, but suddenly instead of wanting to comfort him, she wanted to slug him. She started to say something when Jackson broke the silence.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
At that inane question, Lorianne almost started laughing, but quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as Jackson hunched his shoulders and faced her. She gave him a noncommittal, “I always love coming up here for a visit.”
“That’s good, that’s good.” His voice was distracted.
“What about you?” Lorianne asked. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
For the first time a flash of the Jackson Lorianne had known forever surfaced. “What do you think?”
Lorianne considered telling him, but realized he was too infatuated for it to do any good. She settled for, “Things do seem a bit awkward.”
Jackson snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
“I wish there was a way I could help.” When Jackson didn’t comment, Lorianne continued in a soft voice, “Have you known her long?”
“For a few weeks. But they’ve been the happiest weeks of my life.”
Her heart dropped to her shoes. “Really?” Not the answer she was looking for.
“You know how sometimes you see someone and you know they’re the one for you?”
Lorianne nodded. Yes, I know.
“That’s how I felt when I saw her in Colorado. She was in the foyer of her home, surrounded by priceless antiques and gilt. God, I’ve never seen such an over-the-top mansion in my life”—he grimaced—”a silver baron with more money than taste. I wish you could have seen it, Lorianne.”
“I can imagine,” she smiled. “I watch America’s Castles on TV.”
Jackson gave her interruption an impatient wave. “Then Raven stepped forward to greet me, and the surroundings fell away.” His expression was—besotted, Lorianne thought before he continued, “All I could see was Raven. It was the most profound moment of my life.”
Lorianne just stared back at him. “It was?”
“Absolutely.”
“Almost a religious experience, no doubt.” Lorianne winced, wondering if he heard the sarcasm in her voice.
With an eager step Jackson came over to her and sat down, gathering her hands in his. “I knew you’d understand.”
“Ummm, sure.”
“She was so full of life. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Still can’t.”
Lorianne studied their clasped hands. “I noticed.”
“So did her father. He encouraged me to ask her to come back here with me.” He leaned closer to whisper. “I wanted to introduce her to the family.”
Lorianne withdrew her hands, clenching them in her lap. “She was happy about that?”
Jackson gave her a sheepish look. “I didn’t tell her. I thought I’d scare her if I mentioned falling in love with her on the spot.”
“Jackson, are you sure this is love?” Lorianne stared at her white knuckles, chewing her words before continuing, “I mean, of course you’re fascinated and infatuated—what man wouldn’t be—but love takes time. It comes from knowing someone, from building a strong foundation, from—”
Jackson looked offended. “I ought to know whether I’m in love or not.”
At that, Lorianne backtracked. “Of course, you should—”
“And I think she really loves me, but is afraid of it.”
“Huh?”
“She’s afraid of the demands of the political life and all the pressures.”
Lorianne threw him a confused look. “I thought you were having second thoughts about politics.”
Shaking his head in all directions, he ended by clenching his jaw. “Yes. No. I’m not
sure. I’m sick to death of being pushed, that’s all.”
“I understand.” It was then she realized that his father had not only been pushing politics down his throat relentlessly, he’d also been pushing her, her family and her connections. No wonder he’d never seen her as anything other than a childhood friend.
Jackson looked away from her. “Since meeting Raven, I keep thinking about the fishbowl aspect of political life. How you’re living under a microscope every minute.”
“I think Raven is pretty used to the microscope,” Lorianne observed, thinking about all the tabloid stories she’d read about “the wild Raven Rutledge”.
Jackson catapulted himself off the sofa. “Lies, all lies. People inventing stories to sell papers.”
“Yeah, well, they’ve invented some good ones,” she said, her voice dry as unbuttered toast.
Ignoring her, Jackson continued, “I have to find a way to make her see that we could work.”
“What are you going to do about Nicholas?” At his blank look, she added, “Her fiancé, remember?”
“That’s where you come in.”
“Me?” Lorianne practically squeaked. “What do I have to do with it?”
“I want you to make Nicholas fall in love with you.”
Lorianne stood up. “Are you nuts?”
Jackson shook his head. “No, I think it’s a good solution.”
“Well, let me tell you what I think. I think you must have fallen on your head between breakfast and now. Of all the ridiculous—”
“No, it’s not. I’ve seen him looking at you.”
Lorianne looked at Jackson. She wanted to slam him against the wall, then tell him to grow up and face reality. “He feels sorry for me.”
“What? Why?”
Lorianne’s jaw dropped to her knees as she stared at him. He really doesn’t know how I feel about him. God, this man might as well be deaf, dumb, blind and three days dead. What the hell do I see in him?
Finally, Lorianne snapped, “If you don’t know, I’m not going to be the one to tell you.” With that, she stood up, executed a military precision about-face and marched from the room.