“Sit around and watch an old movie on television, I guess.”
“You mean sit around and wait for the phone to ring,” Brittany teased.
“Go,” Francesca ordered.
SHE HAD EXPECTED Dawson to open the door.
But it was Ethan who stood before her, not quite dressed. He had on gray suit pants and was shrugging into his shirt. It was unbuttoned, revealing his smooth, muscled chest and washboard belly.
He was playing very dirty.
“Come on in,” he said, spider to fly.
“What time is the reunion? Aren’t we going to be late?” she asked, flustered, as she followed him into the library.
“It’s fashionable to be late. Wait here and I’ll be ready shortly.” He was playing really dirty, leaving her with a room full of memories.
They were fashionably late.
And greatly anticipated. Well, Ethan was, if the titter that rippled through the crowd at their arrival was any indication.
“Over here, Ethan,” a short boisterous man called out from one of the round white-linen-covered tables near the dais.
Ethan led her to the table, his hand at her back as if she might bolt, given the chance. And he wasn’t half wrong. It was her strongest urge, next to her urge to throw up.
She’d spotted Tricia Edwards at the table where they were to sit.
Ethan held her chair while he made introductions. The short boisterous man was successful in the garment district. His wife, Bunny, had a dinner ring on each finger. Another polo player with his date, a model, and Tricia Edwards, who was there alone, made up the table.
The salad had already been served and Brittany played with hers while someone on the dais read off a list of awards for everything from Most Children to Biggest Surprise.
The one for Biggest Surprise went to the cheerleader who had gone on to edit a feminist magazine. Brittany thought her being there with Ethan would have won if Tricia could have voted—she hadn’t taken her eyes off Ethan since they’d arrived.
Brittany hoped they’d be very happy together.
No, she didn’t. That was a lie.
The table was cleared of the salads and the waiter brought the entrée while classmates came and went from the table, all with the same message: They’d known Ethan would see again, that he would be fine. The implication being that if he hadn’t regained his sight, he would have been socially undesirable.
Just before dessert, the last speaker finished and the class president took the microphone. “Now it’s time for everyone to enjoy themselves, and we’ll start it off with the first dance of the evening. It’s been suggested to me that the first dance be begun by the King and Queen of the Sweetheart Dance.
Brittany got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She glanced over to see Tricia begin scooting back her chair. The smug smile on her face told just who had suggested the idea. Brittany didn’t have to look to her side to know that Ethan had been king to Tricia’s queen.
A sudden inspiration hit Brittany. When Ethan got up and danced with Tricia, she could sneak out. She would have honored his request. She’d gone to the reunion with him. And she’d been properly humiliated. He could leave with Tricia.
Ethan would have paid her back for her prank all those years ago, and she would have delivered Tricia back to him.
Brittany heard Ethan whisper something to the polo player as Tricia came around the table and placed her hand in Ethan’s. Looking frail and beautiful, Tricia clung to Ethan as he led her out onto the dance floor.
A perfect vision, the couple circled the floor a few times and then the class president announced that everyone was to join them.
Brittany breathed a sigh of relief; it was her cue to bolt. If she could manage it without the tears she was trying to hold at bay, all the better.
She reached for her purse, only to have the polo player cover her hand with his. “Uh-uh… No trip to the ladies’ room now. This dance was promised to me.”
“But I didn’t…” Brittany started to object.
“I know. Ethan did,” he explained, insisting she join him on the dance floor.
So that was what Ethan had whispered. He was making sure she stayed to witness his reunion with Tricia.
It was strange, she thought, as she danced with the man and felt her gaze drawn to the back of Ethan’s head and Tricia’s beaming look of conquest—tonight she wasn’t envious of Tricia’s beauty.
Brittany realized that she was comfortable with who she was. That not having based her self-esteem on something as frivolous as looks, she’d developed into someone she quite liked, even if Ethan didn’t.
She might not be beautiful, but she was attractive.
Beauty wasn’t the issue. Ethan was.
It was just her bad luck he preferred beautiful women.
Tricia and Ethan were dancing closer together and Brittany thought she might cry if he looked at her in pity. She had to get off the dance floor. Had to get out of the stifling ballroom. Her prayers were answered when her partner slowed his steps.
“Excuse me a moment,” he said, leaving her.
She turned away, not seeing him go to cut in on Ethan and Tricia.
Deciding this was her chance to escape, Brittany grabbed her purse and made a beeline for the exit.
“Brittany.”
She didn’t turn around. It was only her too-fertile imagination making her think she was hearing Ethan calling out her name.
“Brittany, wait.”
Really, she admonished herself, she had to start accepting what was, not dreaming of what could never be.
“Damn it, Brittany, wait.”
The curse stopped her dead in her tracks. Either she was hopelessly romantic or Ethan was distressed that she was leaving.
He caught up to her.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Making it easy for you.”
“By leaving?”
“I thought I’d give you a clear shot at Tricia.”
“We need to talk. But first…”
He pulled her into his arms and she stared at him incredulously.
“Don’t look at me like you don’t know what you look like in that dress.”
An ache rose in her throat. Why was he toying with her like this? Had she hurt him that badly? Of course, she had.
She looked into his eyes and her mind went completely blank as his lips claimed hers. It wasn’t a sweet kiss; it was a claiming kiss.
Confusion warred with passion as the kiss deepened, lengthened. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? And why couldn’t she seem to stop him?
She was trembling when he released her.
“Can—can I go now?” she stuttered, trying to save face while knowing she’d given everything away with her response to his kiss.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
She thought he was taking her home. Instead, he took her to his brownstone.
Once inside, he pulled her into his arms again.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” he explained. “To cool down. To miss you. To realize you were the one who loved me when I wasn’t perfect. I can’t seem to keep my hands off you. I kept listening for your step, your laugh.
“God, Brittany, I’ve been miserable without you.”
“You have?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think this past week,” he said, pulling her into the library. I might have been blinded by the accident, but I’ve been blind for a long time to my needs. All my constant activity was a cover for my loneliness. You opened my eyes, Brittany. When I was sightless, you opened my eyes.”
“Are you telling me that you forgive me for what I did?” she asked, holding her breath.
“Yes. It took courage to tell me. You didn’t have to. I’ve let go of my anger, Brittany. I see now that you did what you did because you loved me. I would have made a terrible mistake marrying Tricia.”
“But then why did you w
ant to go to the reunion?” she asked, still hurting.
“I wanted to show you off. I wanted to show Tricia how beautiful you are. I should have gotten the award tonight for Luckiest Guy in the Class. Oh Brittany, can you forgive me for how horrible I’ve been to you?”
She pushed off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. “I don’t know,” she teased. “I might need a little coaxing.”
He laughed. “I’m one step ahead of you. Stay right here.”
Ethan left the room and Brittany rubbed her temples. Everything was happening so fast. She’d been prepared for… she didn’t know what, exactly, but it wasn’t this.
Ethan could see. And he still wanted her. She hugged that thought to herself.
Could it really be true?
“Ouch!”
“Meow…”
Brittany spun around to see a large tabby cat leap from Ethan’s arms and run toward her. The cat jumped up on the sofa.
“Aw… Where did you come from?” Brittany said, moving to the sofa and sitting down beside the cat to pet it. The animal purred and rubbed up against Brittany.
“His name is Charley. Dawson tells me he’s a Maine coon breed that strayed into the stable a week ago. No one has turned up to claim him. According to Dawson, Maine coons are one-person cats. Looks like you’re the person,” he announced as the cat curled up in Brittany’s lap and began a happy purring. “He’s grouchy every time I try to hold him.”
“He’s beautiful,” Brittany said in a hushed tone, admiring the cat’s double coat and beautiful green eyes set off by its dramatic ear furnishings.
“He’s yours.”
“Really?”
“Francesca told me you wanted a cat, so I—”
“You’ve talked to Francesca!”
“Now, don’t get mad at her. I made her promise not to tell you. I wanted tonight to be a surprise. I didn’t know if you would forgive me for being such a jerk.”
“What do you think, Charley, should we forgive him?”
The cat meowed contentedly.
“We forgive you,” Brittany assured him.
“Then I only have one other question.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you like the collar I picked out for Charley?”
“The collar?” she asked, puzzled.
Ethan nodded.
Brittany lifted the cat and the light caught the diamond solitaire engagement ring dangling from Charley’s leather collar.
“Ethan!”
“Is that a yes?” he asked, hopefully.
Brittany dropped Charley to the sofa and leapt up to drape her arms around Ethan’s neck.
“Ask me nicely…” she teased.
“Will you marry me, Brittany? Please…?”
She pretended to be considering his offer. “Ask me not-so-nicely—”
He crushed her lips in a deep kiss, his tongue like rough velvet.
“Yes,” she moaned moments later when she could breathe again.
“I love you, freckle face.”
“Will you stop calling me that? Oh, I’ve got to call Francesca. Wait till she hears!” Brittany couldn’t hide her excitement.
She went to the phone and punched in the number and waited.
There was no answer.
“She must have fallen asleep,” Brittany said, disappointed.
“You can tell her in the morning.”
“Morning?”
“Well, it may take us till morning to find Charley, so I can put my ring on your finger,” Ethan said, looking around for the cat, who had disappeared.
“Here kitty, kitty…”
They found him hiding in the kitchen, and Ethan slipped the engagement ring on Brittany’s finger.
“What are you thinking?” Ethan asked.
“I was thinking this has been a perfect ending to what I’d anticipated would be the worst night of my life.”
“Ending? But the night is still young. Do you realize we haven’t made love since my sight has returned?” Ethan’s voice was husky with desire.
She’d forgotten he’d never seen her naked. All her insecurities came flooding back, despite the red dress that made her feel so sexy.
“And I thought,” she heard him saying, “turnabout would only be fair.”
“What are you talking about?” She watched him slowly loosen his tie.
“Come along and I’ll show you,” he said, taking her hand and leading her upstairs to the bedroom.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed.
She found herself doing as she was told, because when she closed her eyes her fears seemed to vanish. He looped his tie around her head, covering her eyes, effectively blindfolding her.
She heard him opening and closing drawers.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for more ties. Hadn’t you noticed the iron bed has four posters, after a fashion—”
“Ethan…!”
“Okay, so I’ll only get two more ties….”
She’d never be able to wear the red dress again.
Ethan was a novice at this game he’d fancied, because once he’d located the ties and had her squirming with mock protest on the bed, there was only one way to get her out of the red dress.
And then he wrapped her in the dark velvet that was his voice. He used his mouth on her until he had her sighing with pleasure.
“This isn’t fair, you know,” she moaned when she wriggled her hips against him, wanting him.
He looked down at her, his eyes heavy and sultry, his grin wicked. “I know.”
Every nerve ending in her body sizzled. The fiery ache in her belly had complete control of her—as did Ethan.
She licked his jaw when he lowered his head to kiss her neck. His skin was slick and salty, the line of his jaw hard and firm.
Moving her hips again against the satiny steel of him, she was reckless with hunger.
“You deserve this, you know,” he told her when she moaned in frustration, her head twisting from side to side.
“Then give it to me,” she practically screamed through clenched teeth.
The laugh that tore from his throat was loud and rich. “Not so hasty, my sweet. Haven’t you heard good things come to those who wait?”
“Then you had better be freaking great!”
“Sweetness!” Ethan pretended shock. He grinned at her. “I meant you deserve to be needy for me the way you made me needy for you with your stories— your sexy, outrageous stories.”
Brittany arched her body provocatively.
“That isn’t fair, sweetness.” He frowned, a playful frown. “That isn’t fair.”
“I know.”
“So let’s really let down our hair, shall we?” he teased, undoing hers that was already half-undone anyway.
And then his lovemaking began in earnest. And they were exquisite together—their lovemaking first slow and teasing, then hard and passionate.
He’d tied her up and set her free.
IN THE MORNING SHE returned the favor.
And then she fixed them breakfast while trying to call Francesca to tell her her exciting news.
There was no answer.
Francesca must have gone out shopping, Brittany decided, as Ethan pointed out it was past noon and what they were eating was lunch. Charley was, too, with a saucer of milk on the side.
Over their omelets they settled into a comfortable companionship as Ethan told her what it had been like when his eyesight returned. How he’d spent the week drinking in the sight of everything with a newfound appreciation. He told her of his plans to put on a Broadway play and donate the profits to the Lighthouse. He’d been so very lucky and wanted to also see if he couldn’t find a way to stage a Broadway play using sightless performers.
There was a polo match on cable, so they adjourned to the library to watch it.
Brittany wore Ethan’s pajama top and he wore the botto
ms. She lay stretched out on the sofa with her head in his lap, sifting through the Sunday edition of the New York Times.
She was looking at the Book Review section when a station break made her look up.
The announcer had said something about Chelsea Stone and Tucker Gable—
“Congratulations are in order for country music’s hottest duo, Chelsea Stone and Dakota Law. The Laws are proud parents of a son, Tucker Cody Law, born last night at 11:05. The godfather, Tucker Gable, was busy himself last night. Seems he and supermodel Francesca Astor were married in Las Vegas.”
Ethan’s laughter was deep and rich, at Brittany’s yelp of excitement.
Hearing it, she turned to look at him as a guilty flush spread over his face.
“Wait a minute. Why is it that you don’t seem surprised?” Brittany demanded.
“Me?” He feigned innocence badly.
“You. Come on, give. What did you do? What did you and Tucker talk about outside the restaurant Monday night?”
“Oh, nothing. I just happened to mention to Tucker that I had known Francesca for a long time. And that I hoped his intentions were honorable. I wasn’t too threatening. I think I did mention something about me and my polo cronies. And I dropped a major hint that Francesca had always had this fantasy of a man who would sweep her off her feet and take her to Las Vegas and marry her on the spot.”
“Ethan!”
“Well, it serves the two of you right. Kinda brings things full circle, don’t you think? Besides…”
“Besides what?”
“Besides, you told me you liked stories with happy endings.”
“Think you’re pretty smooth, don’t you? Well, think about this. You know what Francesca eloping means? It means my mother is going to insist we have a big, fancy, blowout wedding.”
“My mother wouldn’t have it any other way,” Ethan countered. After planting a satisfied kiss on her lips he added, “And neither would I.”
ETHAN WAS A MAN full of surprises.
After the polo match on television was over, he whisked her off to his stable where her birthday present snorted impatiently in his stall.
She’d finally gotten a pony for her birthday at the ripe old age of twenty-five.
Epilogue
IT WAS TWO IN THE morning.
A Kiss in the Dark Page 13