Nick walked up the steps and the woman rose like a butterfly unfolding. She was an older version of the woman in Stuart Redding Brown’s photo album. Nick saw her beautiful eyes assess his ivory slacks and black silk shirt before she said, “You must be Nick. Serena’s just indoors, getting ready. I’m Reeva Brown-Carstairs. Serena’s mother.” Actually, she was assessing more than his clothes as she put out her hand for Nick. He had to juggle the wine and flowers to shake her hand, and when they parted fingers he felt thoroughly dissected.
Reeva raised her arm dripping with the multi-colored material. “This is Gerry Carstairs, my husband.”
The man rose, smiling. “Pleased to meet you, Nick.” He came forward to shake Nick’s hand.
“Let’s put those on the table.” Reeva relieved him of the bottle and flowers. “Sit down. Do you want a drink?”
“No, thanks.” Nick saw Reeva give him another long look while he pulled forward one of the chairs. Reeva and Gerry were either here to babysit the house for the evening or they were accompanying Serena to the party. He hoped it was the babysitting duty, but as they were so dressed up he presumed they were also going to the party.
Reeva floated through a glass door into the plant-filled sunroom. “I’ll go and tell Serena you’re here.”
Gerry settled back into his seat, cradling his beer. “Ladies always have to get gussied up for parties.”
Nick sat down, nodded and smiled, although he didn’t feel like smiling. He felt irritated at the possibility that he might not be alone with Serena this evening. He felt annoyed he wasn’t alone with her now. He was even more frustrated when Serena appeared, looking beautiful in a pair of flowing cream silk pants and a snug top with a narrow gold belt at her waist. On her feet were pale gold leather sandals and her hair was upswept. Long gold earrings with a diamond in each flashed money. He wanted her all to himself.
“Hi, Nick.” She smiled her TV smile. “Sorry about the commotion. Mom and Gerry were invited tonight, so they decided to come by and we’ll all go together. All right?”
It wasn’t, but he couldn’t very well demur in front of her mother and stepfather. He rose and indicated that the flowers and the wine were for her.
“You shouldn’t have bothered.” She peeked at the flowers and gave him a smile that was less TV. “But they’re pretty. Really pretty. I’ll go and find a vase to put them in. Do you want to come inside and see the house, Nick? Mom make sure Gerry has another beer from the cooler.”
Serena carried the flowers. Nick carried the wine. She ushered him inside the sunroom and closed the door. He followed her lithe, slim, sexy scurrying figure from the sunroom into a bright, pretty kitchen.
“Put the wine on the table,” she directed, and began opening doors to look inside cupboards until she eventually drew out a crystal vase. She turned on the tap at the sink.
She held the vase under the running water. “I’m sorry about the extras for this evening. But Mom called last night to give instructions. That’s what my mother does, gives instructions.”
Nick’s eyes were on her fluid body beneath the silky outfit. “And you don’t?”
Her eyes were huge tonight. “Don’t what?”
“Give instructions. Like, ‘Put the wine on the table.’”
She touched her forehead with the back of her wrist. “Sorry. It’s just that when mother visits she likes everything just so, and I feel I have to please her all the time. This is me pleasing.”
“Don’t you ever tell her no?”
Serena stood the vase of water on the counter, opened the paper and spread the flowers beside the vase. Nick saw her hands were shaking, and he realized just how fragile she was. He felt enormous warmth and sympathy for her as she began to slide each flower into the vase in a floral arrangement that seemed to come instinctively to her. “I used to once, but since she’s become Reeva Brown-Carstairs, Councilor, I let her have her way. It’s easier.”
Nick pushed his hands into his pockets. “I can see why that would be. She’s quite a powerhouse. What was she like once, when you could say no?”
“Oh.” Serena popped a white daisy into the vase beside a pink one. “It’s a long story.”
Nick figured everything about Serena was a long story, but the possibility of problems didn’t dim his attraction to her. He was even aware that his attraction wasn’t completely sexual. It was everything. And that worried him. This was no chick he could seduce for great sex. This was a woman who might crawl into his heart. But he still wanted to seduce her. The need to have her was becoming quite painful.
She stood away from the flower arrangement, touched a loose tendril of hair on her neck and glanced at him. “How’s that?”
“Very professional.”
“I worked for a florist when I was a teenager.”
“Before you decided on journalism?”
She nodded. “Yep.” She walked forward to adjust one of the ferns. “I’ll put the flowers on the table.” She carried the vase to the table. Then she picked up the wine bottle and held it up to read the label. “Sauvignon Blanc. My favorite. Thank you. Do you want a glass?”
Nick wished things were different. Yes. He’d like a glass, or even two, but with her, alone. Not with other people outside awaiting them. Not with a party to go to, where he’d likely drink more than his share anyway. He didn’t even want to go to the party. He’d like to stay here with Serena and get down to something hot and heavy. She made his body burn like a furnace.
He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets. “Let’s save it for later.”
“Okay.” She glanced at the microwave clock. “We have to get going anyway. I guess we’ll have some shuffling of cars in the driveway. Gerry’s a drive-up-and-just-park-anywhere type of driver. Did you park behind him?”
“I did. What does he do for a living?” Nick wanted to get away from his scalding thoughts of what he would rather to do tonight.
“He consults, mostly in property deals. Makes a bundle. Mother’s not badly off. She sold her string of successful florist shops when she decided to go into politics.”
Nick shouldn’t be surprised at anything Serena told him. “So flowers are in your blood as well as journalism?” He knew after the words were formed that he’d said the wrong thing.
Her wide forehead creased. “What do you mean?”
Nick shrugged. “You know what I mean.”
“Did you just know, or did Don tell you? Because if Don told you, I’ve got some bones to pick with that man.”
Nick prepared himself for a rocky road. “Don told me, but I think I would have figured it out, especially after meeting your brother. You see, I have your father’s book at home with his face on the cover, and your brother is the spitting image of him.”
She nodded. “He is, isn’t he? Just lately, since he’s got older and become a man.”
Nick heard her voice quiver and knew he was treading extremely delicate ground. “Don did mention that you didn’t associate your work with your father. That’s fine. It doesn’t make any difference to me one way or the other.”
She posed her head to one side. “Oh? It does to most journalists. I mean, he was sort of a pioneer of modern TV journalism. He’s an idol.” Her voice broke and she tried to cover her confusion by fiddling with the flowers once more. A pink one here, a white one there. She gave up with a piece of fern she couldn’t jam down between them and began to wrap it around her fingers.
Nick moved closer to her. He could smell her expensive perfume. Beneath the creamy silk her body rippled with all sorts of feminine delights. But it wasn’t sex she was rippling with. It was grief. Tears flooded her eyes.
She looked at him. “Why did you have to say anything?”
“It just came out. I didn’t mean to.”
“But you knew all this time.” She flung the fern down on the table. “Damn Don. He shouldn’t have said a word. He knows I like to go on my own merit. Now you’ll be comparing me, thinking, ‘Oh, her journalism
is weak compared to her father’s. Where does she get off?’”
“Is that why you don’t acknowledge him?”
“Partly, I guess. It’s not important.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“No.”
She wasn’t telling the truth. Her father’s memory bothered her to no end, otherwise she would acknowledge him. Knowing everything about family dysfunction and how it hurt, he moved closer to her, wanting to comfort her.
She moistened her lips with her tongue and put her head to one side so that her diamond earrings flashed in the light. “We’d better go.”
“No. You’re too upset.” He put his arms around her, hoping to soothe, but instead she turned her head so that her mouth came close to his. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her.
Nick expected to be pushed away, but instead she ground her hips against him and he felt himself losing part of his sanity as his tongue delved between her teeth and she parted her lips to let him inside. His hands desperately massaged her hips, and their mouths hungrily locked together.
The sunroom door opened and Reeva called through the house. “Serena. Are we leaving yet?”
Serena suddenly seemed to realize what she was doing, and she thrust Nick away and stumbled from him to hang on to the kitchen counter. She held her head high and straightened her shoulders, calling out, “We’ll be there in five minutes, Mom.”
Nick heard the door close again.
“That’s been coming since we met,” Nick said. Then he raked his fingers through his hair, knowing there was a high flush of color on his cheekbones, knowing he couldn’t hide how aroused she made him. He’d never been affected by a woman so quickly, so mindlessly in his life.
•
Serena didn’t know where the anger came from. It welled from inside her and she thought as she lashed out at Nick that she might be actually lashing out at herself. “It wasn’t coming from me. I don’t know what ideas you’ve got into your head. We work together, Nick. That’s it. Nothing else.”
“I didn’t start that. You wanted me.”
“You caught me unawares.”
“I was going to comfort you.”
Serena touched her lips with her fingers and she could still feel his mouth there. She had been far too aggressive. “My lipstick. I have to fix my lipstick. Go and tell the others I’ll be with them in seconds. I’ll lock up the house. We have to go.”
“Okay. Ignore what’s going on. What the hell do I care? You’re trouble anyway.”
“What do you mean, trouble?”
His eyes were narrowed, so she couldn’t see his expression. “You know what I mean. You’re hung up about your father for some reason. Lord knows why. He was famous. You should revel in his fame. He did great things for journalism.”
She realized that Nick Fraser was getting right down into the core of her. “Maybe for journalism. But he didn’t do great things for anyone else in his life.”
“So that’s it? It’s not his professional life that you’re running from, it’s his personal affiliations.”
Serena felt like she’d been wound up with a key inside. Hell, she’d felt like she’d been wound up ever since she had heard Nick Fraser’s name over her cell phone the other day. “Personal affiliations. That’s a cute way of saying that my father’s family interaction stank.”
“Is that what it is?”
“Yes, that’s what it is.” Serena placed her hands on her hips. She had to cool down if she were to be in any shape for the party. “I don’t want to discuss this tonight, Nick.”
“But we will discuss it?”
“Why do we need to discuss it?”
“Because it upsets you so much. I think you need to talk about it with someone who understands. I was thinking of doing a documentary on your father. I need your permission. Well, I’ll need your family’s permission. But it would give you a chance to think about him, to talk about him.”
Serena couldn’t believe he was so brazen. Kissing her one minute, the next standing there saying he wanted to do a documentary on her father. “That’s all you want from me, is it?”
Nick stepped forward, looking as if he wanted to hold her in his arms again. “Serena.”
She backed away from him. “Don’t touch me again. And I want you to shut up about him and don’t bring up his name in my presence.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think we even mentioned his name.”
Pascal, who had slid unnoticed into the kitchen, jumped on the table between them, startling them. He poked his black leathery nose into the flowers and promptly sneezed.
Serena scooped him off the table, uncaring she was wearing silk and his claws could do damage. She was just pleased for the interruption. “Pascal, this is Nick.”
Nick extended his finger to Pascal, who rubbed his cheek on his hand. “This is your housemaster, I presume.”
“Yes. He is.”
Nick patted the shiny gray head between the upright ears. “Extremely pleased to meet you, Pascal.”
Pascal also seemed very pleased to meet Nick, and Serena had to actually move closer because Pascal wanted to sniff his hand in more detail.
Serena watched Nick’s big capable hand gently rubbing Pascal. “He seems to have taken to you.”
“I think we’ve all taken to each other. Whatever you think. Now, I’ll go and see Gerry about switching cars.”
Serena noticed some of her lipstick had been transferred on to Nick’s mouth. She let Pascal wriggle away and went to the counter to tug a tissue from the box there. She returned to Nick. “Let me wipe my lipstick from your mouth first.”
He stood still as she wiped his firm lips. Her mark on his mouth, proving they had been about to lose it temporarily. If she was ever going to lose it with any man, it would be Nick. She knew that now. Her body still pulsed from the pressure of his.
She was about to remove her hand when he caught her fingers with his own. Kisses flew across her fingertips, reigniting the fire. Breathlessly, she tugged her fingers from his, seeing their hands parting in reluctant slow motion.
“Serena.” Her mother again, calling from the door. “Gerry can’t get out with Nick’s car parked there.”
“Go.”
He went, and for a second she didn’t know what to do with herself. Then she tossed the tissue into the garbage bin under the sink and decided she might have lost it temporarily but she wasn’t going to lose it forever. From now on Nick Fraser was going to be kept exactly where she wanted him, at a great distance.
Pascal was back on the table, sniffing around the flowers, and Serena decided she was going to have to put the flowers in a higher spot if she didn’t want to find them on the floor when she arrived home. She carried the vase into the living room and placed it on the mantel. She didn’t think Pascal ever jumped up there.
Her mother walked in on her as Serena turned around.
“The flowers are pretty,” Reeva said. “He’s an interesting man.”
“Nick?”
“Naturally, Nick. All I’m going to say, Serena, is watch him. He has the same look in his eye as your father, and he was entirely unreliable. You want a man you can dominate, not a man who dominates and controls your life until you can’t operate without him. All I’m saying is, don’t fall in love with him.”
Serena touched one of her earrings. Could her mother see her lipstick was worn off by a man’s mouth? “Heaven’s, no. I’m working with the man. And I have to admit I’ve already noted the similarity.”
“It’s pretty obvious. He’s a handsome devil, with that hard shell exterior.” Reeva swished forward and adjusted a couple of flowers in Serena’s arrangement.
Serena wanted to go over and return the flowers to their former position, but she knew she couldn’t do that in front of her mother. Actually, she didn’t have the guts or the inclination for a fight tonight. Her mother was so damn strong and manipulative. She couldn’t believe she was the same crumpled woman wh
o had been used and manipulated by Stuart Redding Brown.
“Still, it doesn’t matter that you are working with the man. You can still fall for him. Beware. That’s all I’m saying. Now I just want to pay a visit to the little girls’ room. Is your cat supposed to be on the furniture, sweetie?”
Serena lifted Pascal off the back of the high sofa that was closest to the mantel and carried him outside. She closed the living room door. Pascal was up to tricks. And so was Nick. He thought she was eager for him, and she’d given him that impression. Or had his kisses merely been a way of trying to soften her up, so he could persuade her to give him permission to do a documentary on her father’s life? If he’d read her father’s book, then he was probably a fan. That he wanted to do the documentary proved his interest. Trying to get closer to her than necessary, like taking her for supper the other night and lunch at his apartment might be triggered by his desire for the documentary. If that was his motive, then she really was going to have to watch herself. No more slip-ups like the one tonight. As soon as she’d been in his arms she’d lost all coherent thought and wanted only him.
Serena popped into her bedroom and swiped some more lipstick across her lips.
“I’m ready now,” her mother said from the doorway. “Are you ready?”
Serena picked up her gold leather handbag. “Yes. I’m ready.” But she knew she wasn’t.
Chapter Seven
Don’s house was a stone mansion set in a few acres of land that had once been part of a farm. Barbara Steel greeted them as soon as they left the Lincoln. For some reason Nick had expected Don to be linked with a younger woman, but, like her husband, Barbara was in her fifties. Her hair, a brown and gray mixture, was loose around her bony shoulders and the long, gold cotton dress and flat gold sandals made her appear very thin.
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