Without warning, he slammed the car into reverse and retraced his path. We were now headed back toward Shelbyville. At least this time, I had the presence of mind to keep my mouth shut.
Two minutes later, we were pulling into the parking area of the bed and breakfast. Worth leapt from the car and before I could unbuckle my seatbelt, he had my door open and was pulling me out. He threw me over his shoulder like a bag of feed and strode into the door of the quaint inn. After tossing a five-hundred-dollar bill on the reception desk, he took the stairs two at a time. He threw me on the four-poster bed and slammed the door. The lock clicked a second later. How did he even know which room was ours? I barely had time to mentally condemn him for being a regular customer when he approached the bed and began tearing my clothes off… literally.
I began to fight, slapping him across the face and pushing at the arms that pinned me to the bed.
“Lie still,” he said in a low growl through gritted teeth.
Within seconds, I was naked, and so was he. His mouth came down on mine and it hurt, but it was a wonderful hurt; a possessive hurt that told me everything I might have ever questioned. He was erect and throbbing, entering me not forcefully, but with a smooth movement that allowed no foreplay. It, too, hurt, but it was the same wonderful, possessive pain as his kiss.
Worth lunged into me over and over and I cried with the joy of it. His face relaxed from the anger it had held to an adoration and triumph. He was the hunter and now he was taking possession of his prey — me. I let myself get swept away in the momentum of transitioning emotions. The tears streamed down my cheeks and through them, I kissed his face, his eyelids and finally his mouth. “I love you, I love you,” I murmured into his ear just before I pushed my tongue into it to hold the words in place in his mind.
“I love you too,” he rasped and took over my mouth, building us both to the summit. The world exploded and we fell into a fetal position, clinging to one another in desperation of losing the moment and the touch.
We lay this way for an hour, only a coverlet above our naked bodies had changed.
Worth held me tightly. “You swear to tell me the truth?” he whispered.
I nodded and folded into his body more closely.
“Who is he to you?”
“Just a friend from college. His family is connected and I thought if I could get him involved, there would be more donations,” I answered quickly, pushing the words out like a four-year-old who had been caught in the cookie jar.
“Does he know about me?”
“He was flirting with me the other day and I wouldn’t answer him about if I was seeing someone.”
“Why?”
“You and I are part of my private world. It’s no one’s business what you and I do,” I explained and felt the nod of agreement as his chin moved against the top of my head as I cuddled against his broad chest.
“Why did you tell him our families were old friends?”
“I found a picture in one of Mother’s old albums. There was a man I thought was you until I realized he was shorter and stockier. I knew it must be your father and they were all standing at one of Mother’s barbecues. She was famous for them. I quizzed her about it and she said your father and mine were acquaintances.” I felt Worth’s body stiffen, but was content to answer questions only.
“Why him?”
Confession time. “He’s easy to get to and has always had a thing for me. I knew I could get his cooperation and I guess you could say I’m using him for that. He’s my link to a great deal of other cooperative people.”
Again, I could feel Worth’s head nodding.
“One more question.”
I tipped my head so I could look him in the face.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, a glimmer of humor in his eyes telling me that the storm had passed. We were on the same footing now and would be, forever. In fact, I believed he approved of my using Brandon. Although, I can’t safely say he would feel the same if it was someone else.
“I’m starved,” I said.
Worth kissed me once more and in a single, smooth motion, rolled off the bed and began dressing. “Your clothes are ruined. I’ll be back. Take a nap,” he ordered and for once in my life, I did as I was told.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Auggie
I hadn’t been asleep long when there was a knock at the room door. I gathered up the sheet around me and inched it open. There was a young woman standing there and she had shopping bags in both hands and surrounding her feet. “The gentleman said I should deliver these to you,” she said. I nodded and stood back to open the door. She brought them all in and laid them on the bed. “Have fun,” she said. “You’re a lucky gal.”
Worth, it seemed, was bent on spoiling me. I pulled clothes out from between tissue paper and found several expensive, as well as casual, outfits with underthings and even some nice jewelry to match. There were shoes and stockings and everything fit perfectly. He was a good judge of size, it seemed.
I was dressed and had remade the bed by the time he came back. I kissed him for the gifts and cleared the table by the window for the food. As I unpacked it, he dragged over chairs and hung his jacket up in the closet. He saw all the clothing and turned around, “Did I do okay?”
“More than okay,” I answered. “As the girl said when she delivered it, I’m a lucky gal.”
“See that you remember that,” he said, grinning.
We feasted and I fed him grapes like Cleopatra. We kissed and even fondled one another a bit. It was lovely and the sun began to set before I suddenly remembered Brandon.
“I can’t let him show up without Mother expecting him. He’s certain to tell her where he saw me and who I was with.”
“It’s going to come out eventually, Auggie.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know Mother. This isn’t the sort of thing she wants to hear from relative strangers, no matter the standing of his family. In fact, that would make it worse. I’m not going to give her something more to bitch about. There’s no choice, I have to go home.”
“Now?” I heard the disappointment in his voice.
“I know. It’s my fault and you can take it out on my hide later on, but for now, please humor me. Take me home in time for dinner so I can intercept Brandon.”
“What about me?” the storm was gathering in his face again.
“You’re invited as well, of course.”
“How is that different from her finding out about us from someone else?” he posed the question.
“Mother wouldn’t dare cause a scene at her own dinner party. I’ll deal with her questions later on, but for now, let’s get going.”
An hour later, both suitably attired, we walked into the house just as Mother was beginning to serve cocktails. We had beaten Brandon and for that much I was grateful.
Mother looked up when we came in and I saw her face go white once again. What an odd reaction she was having to Worth. “Mother, Daddy…there will be three more for dinner,” I announced.
“I thought you were gone,” Mother began in a chiding voice.
“Change of plans. Worth was kind enough to bring me home and while I was out, I ran into an old school chum who has agreed to do some legal work for me. He should be arriving at any time.”
I could tell Mother wanted to protest, but there were already guests in the room and this prohibited her from acting out her role as inquisitor. I was grateful for that.
I personally set three more places at the table and was glad to see she was serving prime rib so the roast could be sliced just a bit thinner than normal and there would be plenty. She always had more food than necessary, something about being poor and hungry at some primeval part of her life.
I heard a commotion at the door and realized that Brandon had arrived. Since Worth was the only person who remotely knew him, he’d been elected to welcome him in. I took this duty over and the rest of the night was a nightmare of maneuvering between my two admirers.
<
br /> Brandon took the chair next to mine and Worth asked me to get him steak sauce from the kitchen. When I returned, he was seated in my chair and I was to his right. I sat on the sofa and Brandon scrambled to take the seat next to me. Worth admired something of Dad’s from the library and offered to show it to Brandon, and then took his seat while Brandon stood. It was quite a production and childish, at best. Dad smiled quite a bit and Mother was fascinated. The rest of our guests were highly entertained and I was simply humiliated. At one point, I was ready to go to my room or outside and ride Carlos, even in the darkness.
The horrible evening finally came to an end. I signed the paperwork Brandon brought. It amounted to essentially a standard blank form since he’d not had time to prepare anything in advance of this ruse. He lingered, wanting Worth to be the first to leave, but it became embarrassingly clear that Worth was not going anywhere until Brandon was gone. I was beginning to wonder which of them would piss on me first.
In the end, Worth stood his ground and I loved him for it. His technique was wonderful, as far as I was concerned. He cornered Dad as soon as Mother’s guests were leaving and when Brandon finally said his goodnight, I found them in Dad’s study. Each held a snifter of brandy and they were talking about the people they knew in common. This was Worth’s way of insinuating himself into Dad’s good graces. I heard him utter a quiet compliment from time to time, further ingratiating himself.
Mother, on the other hand, Worth completely ignored. It was as if she were not sitting in the house. She’d been left in the living room, a martini still in her hand. She motioned to me to sit down after I’d looked in on the men.
“What’s he doing here again?” she asked.
“Who?”
“Worth LaViere, that’s who. Don’t play games with me, Auggie.”
“Worth invited me to lunch and Brandon happened to show up at the same place. Brandon invited himself to dinner and Worth accompanied me. I was only being polite, Mother.”
“My ass,” she snarled and I was taken aback. I couldn’t ever remember hearing her use such crass language. She simply did not do that. It must be the liquor talking.
“Who is this Brandon and what does he want?” she went on to him next.
“Brandon comes from a very good family, the Knotts, in Woodford County. His people are into tobacco mostly which is probably why you haven’t crossed paths. I knew him when I went to school at UK. He’s now an attorney with a wonderful future.”
“Is he a suitor?” she wanted to know.
This was a time for twisting truth. “I really can’t say, Mother. I know he’s had a thing for me ever since school.”
“Yes, but do you have a ‘thing’ for him?” she pressed.
“Mother, you know you’re in full charge of my future, as always. I put it in your hands,” I said, feeding her sense of superior rule. She loved this and smirked with vodka lips.
I escaped as she filled her glass again and tapped on Dad’s study door to find the men in a pleasant conversation. They were swapping tales and both of the men seemed relaxed in one another’s company. I breathed a sigh of relief. One down, three to go.
Worth stood when I entered. He gave a sort of a half bow to Dad and said, “Sir, it’s been a pleasure. I believe there’s a certain young lady awaiting me.” Dad nodded and smiled as I kissed him goodbye.
We cruised quickly past Mother, although I doubt she even cared as she pretended to be occupied with her martini and the fact that she had a run in her stocking.
“Come and meet Carlos.” I tugged at Worth’s sleeve.
“Yet another of your suitors?” he asked in a teasing voice.
The night was cooler than I’d expected and Worth slid off his jacket and put it over my shoulders. We walked toward the paddock. It was dark but I knew my way blindfolded.
As we entered, the heat from the animals and the smell of dung warmed me immediately. Sometimes I felt like I wanted to sleep there. I walked him over to Carlos’ stall and began to pet the soft nuzzle. “This is Carlos, the first man I ever fell in love with,” I introduced him.
Worth smiled and patted Carlos’ nose. “Competition, eh?”
“Actually, I’ve had fantasies that involved you aboard Carlos, if you must know,” I said.
This got his attention. “Really? Care to share?”
“Not with a doctor. Don’t want to be analyzed. Let’s just say I like the reality far better than the fantasy,” I teased him gently.
“Fantasies are a good thing. Perhaps one day we can act it out. Just show me what to do,” he said as he put his arms around me.
“Where will you sleep tonight?” I asked. It was late.
“With you?” he ventured, looking in the direction of the house.
“I don’t think so. Mother has a habit of prowling and while Dad seemed to be fine with having you around, she’s another thing entirely.”
“Don’t worry about me, Auggie. I always manage to land somewhere.”
“Alone?”
“Unless you’re coming with me,” he suggested.
“I don’t think I could manage that a second time today. Anyway, I’m exhausted. We started out so early and it’s been a long day.”
“Then let me kiss you here with only Carlos watching and I’ll be on my way.”
It was a long, deep kiss, the kind that made me want to let my knees collapse and push him into the straw bales, just to get skin to skin. I knew the danger of discovery was too high for that here, but someday… “Worth?”
“Yes, my sweet?”
“When will you begin building the house?”
“When would you like?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Then tomorrow it is. This time, however, we’re going to meet on my turf. I’ll meet you at my office at one o’clock and we’ll start preliminary drawings I can get to an architect. How’s that?”
“I love you.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “Auggie, I want to hear you say that a dozen times a day for the next eighty years.”
“You’ve got a deal,” I answered as we walked out of the stable and Worth climbed into his car and left, blinking his headlights as he went down the long drive.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Worth
I wasn’t fond of this game Auggie was playing. As much as I wanted her, she needed to be tamed a bit. She’d obviously been high-handed her entire life, and I was fairly certain once we were married, she would transfer her target from her mother’s back to mine. I wasn’t about to let that happen.
Once again in the office, I made some calls.
“Bill? Worth here. How are you?” Auggie wasn’t the only one with old school chums waiting to do her bidding. Bill Daughtery and I had known one another since school, as well. He was about to return a few favors. “I have a little something I’d like you to do for me…”
The next call went to Jeremy. “Who’s the best architect in town?”
Jeremy was accustomed to my lack of explanation and decisions on a whim. “Residential? Commercial? Interior? Bridges over the River Seine?”
“Don’t be a smart ass. Residential and with some equine familiarity.”
“Care to share any more details?” he tried.
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. Okay, will text you when we hang up. Dexter’s your best bet.”
“You might have just redeemed yourself from kicking me out of your apartment,” I pointed out.
“Worth, baby, you weren’t willing to pay the price of admission.”
I chose to overlook that and hung up.
The text followed momentarily. It was perfect, couldn’t have engineered it better if I’d tried.
Dexter Architectural Associates
Beverly Dexter, AIA, CEO
Her phone number followed.
“Ms. Dexter, please. Dr. Worth LaViere calling,” were the magic words that brought her instantly on the line. I arranged to meet her at the farm that afternoon.
“This is confidential, Ms. Dexter,” I cautioned her.
“Call me Bev,” she offered back. Jesus, but they were so easy to read.
Her Cadillac pulled up behind my Porsche on the shoulder of the side road. The door opened and a tall, breathtaking woman with legs like a dancer emerged. Before closing her door, with exaggerated slow motion, she slid off her heels and replaced them with low-heeled boots. She knew what she was doing that much was clear.
“Dr. LaViere,” she acknowledged me, holding out a slim, well-manicured hand. I could tell she’d never swung a hammer. This lady was purely window-dressing for her firm. She was smart. I went on high alert.
I showed her the aerial map of the property as I laid it on the roof of my car, pointing to familiarize her with the topography. “I want a house here,” I pointed, “horse barns and some assorted training facilities here, and eventually we plan to build a Steeplechase course here and some viewing stands and a few smaller outbuildings for attendees. That should have a separate entrance from the road. I want the personal portion of the estate to remain private, gated even.” I made my emphasis on the last so she knew where my concerns lay.
“What style of house interests you, Dr. LaViere?”
“I want the look of old Kentucky and yet the interior needs to be more modern, a blend of the two, if you will. No heavy paneling and I want windows overlooking the view from every side. Six or seven bedrooms with baths, a study — no, make that two studies. One for a woman and one for a man, adjoined by a partition door. Servant quarters for four and upstairs should include a sizeable nursery at the opposite end of the house from the master. Pool and gardens in the back as well as an outside kitchen with barbeque. Impress me, Ms. Dexter,” I used her professional name intentionally. “Cost is not an issue but accountability is.” In essence, I was telling her I wanted the best, but she’d better not pad the bill.
She nodded. “I’ll walk the land where the house will sit when you leave. Time frame?”
I knew she was going to balk at this. “Three months.”
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