by Raye Morgan
“I’m surprised you’re not taking in a bodyguard,” she said lightly, only half joking. “I remember those sessions you used to have with him.” Her eyes widened as she recalled some especially wild fights they’d had and she shuddered. “He put you through the wringer.”
Cam nodded and he didn’t smile. “That he did.” His gaze skimmed over her face. “You want to come with me?”
She reared back. “Not on your life. When I was suggesting a bodyguard, I was thinking more along the lines of one of those burly fellows digging posts for the new barbecue center out back.”
He laughed. “I think I can handle my grandfather,” he said. “I’m older now. Wiser.” He cocked an eyebrow. “More agile.”
Diana shook her head, suppressing a grin. “And besides,” she reminded him. “From what I hear, he’s often bedridden. I guess that would give you an advantage.”
He laughed again. “Exactly.”
Word was that his grandfather was in rapidly failing health. With Cam’s father spending most of his time at spa resorts that specialized in “rest cures” and his sister reportedly caught up in playing musical husbands, that left Cam to support his mother and help make some decisions. She was beginning to realize that those circumstances were probably part of the reason he’d agreed to come back home.
“I’ll come out and join you if I survive.”
“Okay.” She winced as she started out through the rosebushes. She shouldn’t be encouraging any of this “joining” or chatting or anything else with Cam. Her goal coming in had been to have the meeting with Mrs. Van Kirk and then get out of here as quickly as possible. It was becoming more and more clear that staying away from Cam had to be her first priority.
The older woman came toward her, smiling.
“Oh, my dear, I’m so glad to see you. Thank you so much for coming by. Come sit with me in the garden and Rosa will bring us some nice tea.”
Diana smiled back and followed her to the little gazebo at the far side of the flower garden. Her relationship with Cam’s mother had undergone a complete transformation in the last few years. When she was a teenager, she knew very well the woman had considered her a guttersnipe who would contaminate her son if she didn’t keep a constant vigil. The one time Cam had tried to bring her into the house, Mrs. Van Kirk had practically barred the door with her own plump body.
Years later, after Cam was long gone and Diana had started her flower business, the woman had hired her periodically, acting rather suspicious at first, but warming to her little by little as the quality of her work became apparent. By now, her affection for the girl she used to scorn was amazingly obvious to everyone—and sometimes resented by Janey.
But Diana was comfortable meeting with her, and she settled into a chair across from her in the gazebo, thinking once again how similar some of her features were to Cam’s. She’d been a beautiful woman and was still very attractive in a plush sort of way. Her hair was auburn where Cam’s was almost black, and her look was soft rather than hard, but she had the same blue eyes and sweet smile he did.
“I want to tell you how much I appreciate you bringing my son home last night after that terrible accident,” Mrs. Van Kirk began. “He was certainly out of sorts for a while, but Dr. Timmer assures us there will be no lasting injuries. He was so fortunate it happened so close to your place.” Her gaze sharpened and she frowned. “How exactly did you know the accident had happened?”
“Just lucky I guess,” Diana said breezily. This was not the time to go into reasons why Cam felt at home enough on her property to use it as a refuge. “I was glad to be able to help.”
“Yes,” she said, gazing at Diana as though seeing her with new eyes. “Well, anyway, we’ll have tea.” She signaled toward the kitchen, where Rosa had appeared at the door. The housekeeper waved that she understood, and Mrs. Van Kirk turned back to the subject at hand.
“Now, I want you to take a look at my new roses.” She pointed out a pair of new English heirlooms. “What do you think of them?”
“Oh, they’re lovely. That soft violet color is just brilliant.”
She looked pleased. “Yes, I’ve hired a new rose expert to come in twice a week and advise me. I want to make sure I’m getting the right nutrients to my little babies. He’s very expensive but I’m so pleased with his work.” She looked up. “Perhaps you know him. Andre Degregor?”
Diana nodded. “Yes, he’s quite good.” And an internationally recognized rose expert. “Expensive” was probably putting it mildly.
“You seem to be doing a lot of work on the estate,” she noted, giving the older woman an opening to get the conversation back on track.
“Yes.” She settled down in her seat and gave Diana a significant smile. “And that’s why I wanted to see you. I’m going to begin a major project. And I want you to take a primary role in the preparations.”
“A project?” she echoed brightly. What type of project would involve a flower stylist? She was beginning to feel a faint thread of trepidation about this. “What sort of project?”
“It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time.” Her eyes were shining with excitement. “I’m planning a whole series of various social gatherings—teas, dinner parties, barbecues, card parties—all culminating in a major ball at the end of next month.”
“Oh my,” Diana said faintly.
“On top of that, we’ll be hosting quite a few guests between functions. I’ve hired a wonderful caterer from San Francisco—for the whole month!” She laughed with delight at the thought. “And I want to hire you for the decorating. If all goes as planned, this will be quite an undertaking.”
“It certainly sounds like it.”
“Now, I’m going to want you to put some extra effort into your weekly arrangements and prepare to work up an entire decorating plan for the various parties.”
“Really.” Diana’s smile felt stiff and artificial as she began to mull over the implications. She had a very bad feeling about this. Ordinarily she would be welcoming the new business, but something told her she wasn’t going to like this once she got the full picture.
Rosa arrived with a tray containing a sterling silver teapot and two lovely, egg-shell thin porcelain cups with saucers, along with a plate of crisp, slender cookies. Out of the corner of her eye, Diana could see Janey making her way into the garden and she offered up a fervent prayer that the young woman would find her way out again before stopping in to see them. She had enough to deal with here without Janey’s caustic comments.
“You have such a good eye for decorating, Diana. I’m really going to be counting on you to help make this very special.”
“What is the theme going to be?” she asked as Rosa poured the tea.
“Well, what could be more obvious?” She waved a hand dramatically and leaned forward. “I’m planning to introduce Cam back into the society he should have been a part of all these years,” she said emphatically. “That’s the theme.”
“The theme,” Janey said, flouncing into the gazebo and flopping down into a wicker chair, “is that Mother wants to marry Cam off to the most important socialite she can find for him, and preferably the one with the most money. He’s raw meat for the voracious upper crust marriage market.”
Her words stung, but Diana kept smiling. After all, she’d known this was coming, hadn’t she? Cam had said as much, though he’d tried to take it back. He’d come back home to get married.
“Janey!” Mrs. Van Kirk said sharply.
Her daughter shrugged. “It’s true, Mother, and you know it. We need the money.”
The woman’s sense of decorum was being challenged by her daughter’s gloomy vision of reality and she didn’t like it at all.
“Janey, I will thank you to keep your acid tongue to yourself. We have no financial problems. We’ve always been able to live just the way we’ve wanted to live. We’re going to be just fine.”
“Dream on, Mom.” Janey looked at Diana and shrugged. “She
won’t look out and see the tsunami coming. But you might as well know it’s on its way.”
The older woman pretended not to hear. “Now, I want you to think this over, Diana. I’m hoping you’ll be free.” She sighed happily. “Such a lot of activity! It will be just like the old days.”
“What old days are those, Mother?” Janey asked, the tiniest hint of sarcasm edging her tone.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Her mother frowned at her. “Things were more hectic when you children were younger. We had parties. Remember all those picnics we had when you were sixteen? It’s been a long time since we’ve had an actual event here. It’s exciting, don’t you think?”
Diana was torn. On the one hand, she liked Cam’s mother, despite her eccentricities—or maybe because of them. On the other hand, she didn’t want to be involved in roping Cam into a marriage—any marriage, good or not. The very thought was darn depressing. It would be awful to see him make a bad marriage just for his mother’s sake, but it would be almost worse to see him falling in love with some beautiful young debutante.
Either way, Diana would be the loser.
But that was crazy and she knew it. Cam would marry someone. He had to. It was only natural. She only wished he would do it far away where she didn’t have to know about it.
“Poor Cam is going to be sold off to the highest bidder,” Janey said. “I wish him better luck in marriage than I’ve had. But then, I tend to marry penniless jerks, so there you go.”
“Janey, please,” Mrs. Van Kirk said icily. She’d had enough. “I’d like to talk to Diana alone. We need to plan.”
For a moment, Diana thought Janey was going to refuse to leave, but she finally rolled her eyes and rose with a look of disdain on her face. Diana watched her go and for once, she wished she could go along.
How was she going to tell Cam’s mother that she couldn’t do this? She hated to disappoint her, especially when she was so excited about her project. But the situation was downright impossible. She was going to have to find the right words…somehow.
And in the meantime, she was going to have to find a way to keep Cam at a distance.
CHAPTER FOUR
FILLED with comforting tea and discomforting misgivings, Diana skirted the house as she made her way back toward her car, hoping to avoid seeing Cam.
No such luck. He came around a corner of the house and met her under the vine-covered pergola.
“Hey,” he said, looking surprised.
“Hay is for horses,” she said back tersely, giving him barely a glance and trying to pass him.
“Channeling our school days, are we?” He managed to fill the passageway, giving her no room to flee. “I guess the meeting didn’t go so well.”
She looked up at him and sighed. “Oh, it went fine. I’m just a little jumpy today.” She made a show of looking at her watch. “I’ve really got to go. I’m late.”
He didn’t buy it. Folding his arms across his chest, he cocked his head to the side and regarded her narrowly. “Late for what?”
She hesitated, not ready to make something up on the fly. “None of your business,” she said instead. “I just need to go.”
He stepped forward, suddenly looking concerned, glancing down at her slightly protruding belly. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”
He was being too darn nice. Her eyes stung. If he kept this up, she might end up crying, and that would be a disaster. Shaking her head, she sighed again and decided she might as well tell him the truth. Lifting her chin resolutely, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
“I’m going to be perfectly honest, Cam. I…I need to keep my distance from you. With all these plans and all that’s going on, I can’t spend time with you. It just won’t work.”
He looked completely baffled. “What are you talking about?”
She took a deep breath and plunged in. “Your mother just spent an hour telling me all about the plans to find you a wife. She wants me to help.” She took a deep breath, praying her voice wouldn’t break. “I don’t think I can be involved in that.”
“Diana, it’s not a problem.” His laugh was short and humorless. “She can look all she wants. I’m not getting married.”
She blinked up at him, not sure why he would say such a thing. “But you said last night…”
He gave her his famously crooked grin. “I think I said a lot of crazy things last night. Don’t hold me to any of them.”
“Cam…”
“I’ll tell you one thing.” He grimaced and raked his fingers through his dark hair, making it stand on end in a way she found eminently endearing. “I’m never going to drink alcohol again.”
“Good. You’ll live longer and be healthier.” She shook her head. She wasn’t really worried about that. “Why did you say you’d come back to get married if you don’t mean to do it? Maybe the alcohol brought out your true feelings.”
He groaned. “What are you now, a psychologist in your spare time? Forget it. This is a ‘don’t try this at home’ situation.” He shook his head, looking at her earnestly. “Diana, my mother has been trying to get me to come home and get married for years. I’ve resisted. I’m still resisting. But she’s still trying. That’s all there is to it.”
She frowned suspiciously. “Okay, you’re saying you didn’t come home to get married?”
“Of course not.”
She waved a hand in the air. “But then why is your mother planning all this?”
“She’s always planning things. That’s how she lives her life.” He shrugged. “Let her go on planning. It’ll keep her busy and out of the way.”
She frowned, not sure she could accept that. “I don’t know.”
Reaching out, he took hold of her shoulders, fingers curling around her upper arms, and stared down into her face. “Okay, Diana, here’s the honest truth. My mother can make all kinds of plans, for all kinds of parties. She can even plan a wedding if she wants to. But I’m not marrying anybody.” His added emphatically, “Anybody. Ever.”
Anybody…ever…
The words echoed in her head but it was hard to think straight with his warm hands holding her and his hard body so close. A breeze tumbled through the yard and a cloud of pink bougainvillea blossoms showered down around them. She looked up into his starry blue eyes and had to resist getting lost there.
“What happened to you, Cam?” She heard the words as though from far away and it took a moment to realize the voice was her own.
He hesitated, staring down into her eyes as though he didn’t want to let her go. The warning signs were there. She had to pull away. And yet, it seemed almost impossible. When her body wouldn’t react, she had only her voice to reach for as a defensive weapon.
“Cam, what is it? What do you have against marriage?”
Her words seemed to startle him and his head went back. He stared at her for a few seconds, then grimaced.
“Once bitten, twice shy,” he muttered, releasing her and making a half turn away from where she stood, shoving his hands down into his pockets.
Watching him, shock shot through her system and she barely avoided gasping. What was he saying? Did he really mean what it seemed he meant?
“You’ve been married?” she said, coming down to earth with a thump.
“No,” he responded, looking back at her, his eyes hard. “But I did come close. Not a pretty story, and I’m not about to tell it. Just understand I’ve been inoculated. I’ve stared into the abyss and I’ve learned from that. I won’t need another warning.”
She didn’t know why she was so disturbed by what he was saying. He was a normal man, after all. No, strike that, he was an abnormally attractive man, but with a normal man’s needs and desires. Of course he’d had women in his life these last ten years. Naturally he’d been in love. What could be more ordinary? Just because she was a nut case and couldn’t forget Cam for long enough to have a relationship with another man didn’t have any bearing on his experiences. Some amateur psychologist she was; sh
e couldn’t even fix her own life, much less dabble in his.
“Well, if that’s true, you’d better tell your mother,” she said, grasping at the remnants of their conversation to steady herself on. “It’s not fair to let her give parties and invite people.”
“I said we should let her make plans. I never said she could put on any parties.”
She shook her head. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
He looked so troubled, she wanted to reach out and comfort him. If only she had the right to do it. But then she remembered—even if she had that right, she would have had to stop herself. She couldn’t risk doing anything that might draw them closer. She had to think of her child.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, turning and starting toward where her car was parked.
“I’ll walk you out to your car,” he said, coming along with her.
She walked quickly, hoping to stay at least an arm’s length from him. She just had to get away.
“Diana’s Floral Creations,” he said aloud, reading the sign painted in pretty calligraphy on the side of her tiny little van. “Interesting name.”
She threw him a look over her shoulder. “It’s pretty generic, I know. I’m creative with flowers, not with words.”
“No, I meant it. I like it. It suits you.”
She hesitated, wanting to get into her car and go, but at the same time, not wanting to leave him.
“What made you go into this flower business stuff?” he asked her, actually seeming interested.
She smiled. This was a subject she loved. She was on firmer footing here. “I’ve always been good with plants. And I needed something to do on my own. I took horticulture classes in college so I had some background in it. Then I worked in a flower shop part-time for a couple of years.”
He nodded, his gaze skimming over her and his admiration for her obvious. That gave her the impetuous to go on, tell him more.