He would give her the moon if she asked, but making babies was out of the question for him.
When he had put himself back together, at least where his clothing was concerned, he went to her bedroom and stood in the open doorway. Fee was seated at the antique vanity adjacent to her bed tidying her curls and freshening her lipstick. With her arms lifted and her body still naked, she looked like a painting by one of the old masters.
Woman combing her hair...
“Did I ruin your dress?” he asked. It was tossed across the bed.
“I don’t think so.” Her gaze didn’t meet his when she stood. She hadn’t bothered with slipping into a robe.
They were lovers. No need to pretend otherwise. Even so, he averted his eyes when she picked up the heavy satin and stepped into it. Too much temptation. She gave him her back. He zipped her up carefully.
“You look beautiful, Fiona.” He squeezed her shoulders.
She had wrung him out and used him up, but he was hard as a pike already and wanted her no less than he had before.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “We should go. We can still make it to Mazie and J.B.’s if the traffic is kind.” She picked up a small evening clutch covered in seed pearls.
“Wait,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his jacket. “I almost forgot. Mazie told me the two of you chatted when you stopped by the store about what you were going to wear tonight. I pumped her for the color and bought you this. I hope you like it.”
He handed over a velvet box and watched her face as she opened it.
Her eyes widened. “Hartley...these are gorgeous. But it’s too much. I’d be terrified of breaking them.”
“Nonsense. Pearls are meant to be enjoyed. They warm with your skin...become part of you. Turn around.”
Carefully, he slipped the long double strand over her head. The woman and the dress had been stunning before. Now Fiona looked like a princess. He stood behind her as she examined her reflection in the mirror. Their eyes met in the glass. “I love them,” she said. “Thank you, Hartley.” When she stroked the necklace with two fingers, he could almost feel her touch against his skin.
He swallowed against a startling lump of emotion in his throat. “I’m glad. I would kiss you, but I don’t think we have time for more repairs.”
Fiona glanced at the clock on her bedside table and squeaked. “We have to go. Mazie will kill us if we’re late.”
“What’s so important?” He loved his sister, but he was more interested in being alone with Fiona than a round of appetizers and small talk.
Fiona’s cheeks turned pink. “Who knows? Your siblings are complicated people.”
“So true.” While Fee turned off lights and checked doors, Hartley took her small suitcase and put it in the trunk of his car. Only the fact that they were spending the night together kept him in line. It would be far too easy to blow off this gala and let Mazie and Jonathan represent the family.
Truth be told, he still felt guilty about leaving them to do that the whole time he’d been gone. He’d borne a load of his own, but did that balance out the sin of abandoning the family?
In the car, he took Fiona’s hand and lifted it to his lips. “Thank you for coming with me tonight. I’ll be the most envied man in Charleston with you on my arm.”
When he nibbled her knuckles, she jerked her hand back, laughing. “Behave yourself. And don’t think ridiculous flattery will let you have your way about everything.”
“It’s only flattery if it isn’t true, Fee. I’m not sure how a woman like you is still unattached.”
His praise seemed to bother her. She wrinkled her nose and stared through the windshield. “What does that mean? A woman like me...”
He started the car. “Beautiful. Smart. Talented. Sexy as hell.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m not anything special. Don’t get me wrong. I have healthy self-esteem. I’m not fishing for compliments.”
“Then what are you doing?” He frowned, bothered by the fact that she seemed clueless about how she affected him.
“Let’s change the subject, please.”
He bowed to her wishes, wondering how deeply her early years had marked her. What was it like to be a kid without a home? He couldn’t even imagine it.
Yet, he’d had a home, and he possessed as many hang-ups as Fiona. Perhaps more. Warning bells sounded in his head. He was getting in too deep. He didn’t need to psychoanalyze her to enjoy sex. He needed to back up and look at the big picture.
Fiona was silent for the remainder of the short trip. As always, he wondered what she was thinking. Was she looking forward to sleeping with him tonight? Really sleeping? He was vaguely astonished to realize that he wanted that almost as much as he wanted sex.
Maybe this relationship was temporary. In his gut, he knew it was. That didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it while it lasted.
Thirteen
Fiona was a pile of nerves by the time she and Hartley made it to Mazie’s house. The two of them were a full ninety seconds early, a minor miracle considering how they had spent portions of the previous hour.
A uniformed maid met them at the door and escorted them to the dining room. The home was stunning. But Fiona had no time to gawk at the classic architecture and fabulous furnishings. Everyone else was already present. Jonathan and Lisette. And of course, J.B. and Mazie.
Hartley hadn’t lost all of his reserve with his siblings. The round of greetings was cordial, but to Fiona’s eyes, everyone in the room was carefully on his or her best behavior. She exchanged hugs, too... That seemed to be required. Only Jonathan and Hartley kept a physical distance.
The light appetizers set out on the sideboard were amazing. Fiona could have made a meal out of only this, but she worried about spilling food on her dress. Given how careless she had been with her beautiful new gown already, perhaps she shouldn’t press her luck.
When everyone had been wined and dined, J.B. commanded the floor. Fiona expected Mazie to make the big announcement. Instead, her husband grinned widely.
“We’re glad you came tonight. Mazie thought this would be a good time to get us all together.”
Jonathan looked puzzled. “We’re going to the gala—sitting at the same table. I’m not sure what you mean.”
Mazie patted her husband’s arm and nodded. She glowed. Apparently, that was a real thing. Except for the unfortunate ones like Fiona who were sick as dogs.
J.B. laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder. The two of them exchanged a private look that was intimate and smug with happiness. Then J.B., former bad boy and now thoroughly content homebody, cleared his throat. “We’re pregnant,” he said. “Well, Mazie is. We wanted you all to know.”
After a moment of stunned silence, Lisette was the first one to react. She jumped to her feet and smiled broadly. “That’s wonderful news. I’m thrilled for you.”
Mazie stood as well and embraced her sister-in-law. “I wasn’t sure what to say to you, Lizzy. You and Jonathan have been disappointed twice. I feel guilty that I’m the one who’s pregnant.”
Lisette shook her head slowly. “Silly goose. Your happiness doesn’t hurt me. Jonathan and I are fine. We don’t know what the future holds for us, but we’ll be tickled pink to welcome the first of a new generation of Tarletons.”
“And Vaughans,” J.B. said. “Don’t forget the daddy.”
In the midst of laughter and more hugging, Fiona sneaked a sideways glance at Hartley. He was saying and doing all the right things, but he was pale beneath his tan. Had his family noticed? They had all known him far longer than Fiona had. Maybe it was her imagination.
Jonathan picked up a flute of champagne from the sideboard. “To new beginnings,” he said. “And to a healthy pregnancy and a perfect little baby—” He halted, an arrested look on his face. “Boy? Girl?”
&nbs
p; “Too soon to tell,” Mazie said. “Plus, there’s always the possibility of multiples given the meds I’ve taken.”
J.B. turned green. “Oh, hell,” he muttered. “I forgot about that.”
Mazie slid her arm around his waist and chuckled. “I wondered how long it would take you to remember.”
Lisette glanced at her watch. “I hate to break up the party, but if we’re going to make it in time for the presentation, we’d better head out.”
Jonathan nodded. “You’re right, sweetheart. One more thing, though. I’ll make it quick.” When everyone fell silent, Jonathan stared at his twin with a hard-to-read expression.
Fiona had sat down again on the sofa. Hartley perched on the arm beside her. She felt the fine tension in his body when Jonathan spoke.
The CEO of Tarleton Shipping addressed the room. His brown-eyed gaze, so like his sibling’s, was focused on his brother. “We’ve all been through a lot in the past year. Changes and more changes. But one thing stays the same...family.” The muscles in his throat worked visibly. “I want you to come back to work, Hartley. The company needs you. I need you. Whatever happened while you were away is water under the bridge. The important thing now is that you’ve come home.”
Fiona was stunned. She squeezed Hartley’s hand, silently urging him to accept the olive branch.
He stood up slowly. She had no idea what he was thinking. “I’d like that,” he said gruffly. He reached out to his brother. “Thanks, Jonathan.”
All the women were misty-eyed as the two men shook hands. There wasn’t time to dwell on the tentative truce. Maybe Jonathan planned it that way. Everyone rushed to gather phones and car keys and purses.
Soon, Fiona was in the car with Hartley. “Well, that was awesome,” she said. “I’m so happy for you.”
When Hartley didn’t respond, she put a hand on his shoulder briefly. “You okay?” she asked as she fastened her seat belt, taking care not to clip the delicate fabric of her dress in the mechanism.
Hartley pulled out into traffic, his big hands clenched around the steering wheel. “I’m fine.” His jaw was granite hard.
“I don’t think you are. I thought you’d be excited about returning to Tarleton Shipping.”
“I’m pleased,” he said tersely. The declaration was hard to believe.
Fiona chewed her lip. “No one is holding a grudge. No one is demanding answers about why you were gone. Your family is wonderfully intact.”
“Maybe,” he muttered. “He was my best friend. I doubt we’ll ever get that back.”
“Which is why you have to tell them the truth. You see that...right? Jonathan and Mazie need to know that their mother is not their mother. And that you didn’t abandon them for no good reason. This is a critical time for your sister.”
Hartley muttered a rude word beneath his breath. “Ignorance is bliss. Trust me on this.”
“You are so damned stubborn,” she cried. His intractability infuriated her. But they were already pulling up at the event site, so she had to drop the argument.
Crowds of impeccably dressed attendees poured into the building. The venue had once been a trio of row houses. Careful renovation turned the historic structure into an upscale, sophisticated spot for weddings and other special occasions.
Tonight, the chamber of commerce was celebrating philanthropy in Charleston and honoring Gerald Tarleton with a posthumous award. He would have received the honor in person had he not died so unexpectedly.
As guests entered the building and gathered in a large, bright atrium, screens on four walls detailed the many programs and projects to which the Tarleton patriarch had been a benefactor. The photographs spanned a couple of decades. From the older images, it was easy to see that Jonathan and Hartley resembled their father in his younger days.
The chamber president quieted the crowd and summoned the three Tarleton siblings to the miniature dais. J.B., Lisette and Fiona lingered at the back of the room.
For the first time, Fiona truly understood the place this family held in the story of the port city. The Tarletons were low-country royalty. She was glad all the focus was on the stage. She felt queasy and out of her element.
Hartley was so damned sexy when he stepped up to the microphone and said a few words. She put a hand to her chest to still the ache there. She was such a hypocrite...insisting that he come clean about his trip to Europe. Insisting that secrets were hurtful.
Soon, the brief ceremony was over and huge double doors swung inward, allowing the crowd to progress to the ballroom where a fancy meal was waiting. When the Tarletons rejoined their respective partners, Fiona felt even more like a fraud. She was here under false pretenses. Hartley wanted her. He’d said so in a dozen different ways.
But their fledgling relationship wouldn’t stand a chance when the truth came out.
The large room filled rapidly with conversation and laughter. The waiters and waitresses who moved between tables were a welcome distraction. Hartley was seated beside her, but he felt a thousand miles away.
Despite the intimacy he and Fiona had shared earlier, he was only going through the motions now. Behind his pleasant smile she saw a world of confusion. He was hurting, and she didn’t know how to help him.
Who was she kidding? She didn’t even know how to help herself.
Though the food was wonderful, she ate sparingly. She still had to get through the early morning hours without revealing her interesting condition. As much as she wanted to spend the night with Hartley, she was courting danger.
Tomorrow, she wanted to tell him calmly, rationally. Not have him find out about the baby because she was hunched over the toilet losing her breakfast.
Things improved when the lights dimmed and couples began moving onto the dance floor in the center of the room. Crystal chandeliers overhead reflected candle flames from the ornate centerpieces.
Hartley stood and held out his hand. “Dance with me?” he asked gruffly. When she twined her fingers with his, he tugged her to her feet.
“I’d love to,” she said.
Hartley was an amazing dancer. She remembered that from the wedding where they met. Though he was big and broad and unabashedly masculine, he moved with confidence across the polished floor.
When she tried to keep a space between them, Hartley simply ignored her self-conscious behavior. “No one’s watching us,” he said, his breath warm on her temple. “Relax, Fee.”
She was pretty sure he was deluding himself. A good portion of the room—at least the single females from twenty to forty—were eyeing Hartley like he was dark chocolate and they had just finished a ten-day juice cleanse.
Hartley, on the other hand, was flatteringly single-minded. He held her close. His gaze never strayed to other women. His beautiful cognac eyes mesmerized her.
“This is fun,” she said, resting her cheek against his shoulder. It wasn’t what she wanted to say. She wanted to pour out her thoughts and her fears and her questions about the future. She wanted to tell him how he made her life brighter and better. How he made her feel desirable and sexy and hopeful.
She wanted to tell him she loved him. Her breath hitched. The knowledge had come to her gradually, but could no longer be ignored.
The words lodged in her throat. Like Cinderella watching the clock, Fiona didn’t want to miss a single moment of the magic. She was racing against time, trying desperately to see a solution where there was none.
She knew, deep in her heart, that as soon as she revealed the truth about her pregnancy, Hartley would be long gone and she would turn into a fat orange pregnant pumpkin with nothing to show for this crazy affair other than a single glass slipper and a broken heart.
J.B. and Mazie were the first to leave the party. Like Fiona, Mazie had been battling exhaustion. Jonathan and Lisette soon followed.
As the room emptied, Hartley and Fiona
remained on the dance floor, swaying from one romantic song until the next. Earlier in the evening, the band had played pop tunes. Top-forty hits.
Now, with the lights low and only two dozen couples still enjoying the music, the old standards were the best. Especially as a prelude to a cozy overnight rendezvous at a nearby hotel.
Hartley stroked the back of her neck with a single fingertip, reducing her to a puddle of need. “I want you, Fee.”
The hoarse words were not surprising. He’d been noticeably aroused for the past hour. She tipped back her head and searched his face. “I want you, too,” she said softly. So. Very. Much.
They gathered their things from the table and headed for the exit. Numerous people interrupted their progress to say something to Hartley about his father, but finally, they were out on the street in the warm, muggy heat of a Charleston evening.
Hartley had parked the car in a two-tiered garage around the corner from the venue. They strolled there slowly, hands linked like teenagers on prom night. Despite everything that was wrong, Fiona experienced a totally illogical surge of hope.
Maybe Hartley did care for her more deeply than she thought.
Maybe he would be able to handle her shocking news with equanimity.
Maybe she would finally have the family she had always wanted.
At the car, Hartley insisted on carrying both bags. He tucked his smaller case under his arm and picked up Fiona’s carry-on. “I’m still holding your hand,” he said, giving her his trademark grin. “Tonight is a big romantic gesture. I’m impressing you with my strength and stamina.”
She bumped his hip with hers. “Save the stamina for later.”
His cheeks flushed. “Duly noted.”
Their lodging was a brief walk away. The streets were mostly deserted. When they arrived, a sleepy desk clerk checked them in. Hartley had booked the rooftop suite with a view of the city.
They skipped the elevator and climbed three flights of stairs. Since her escort had his hands full, Fiona unlocked the door and walked in. “Oh, Hartley,” she said, delighted. “This is gorgeous.” The furnishings were soft and stylish but not too over-the top for a man to feel comfortable. A deep, inviting sofa upholstered in sage green suggested any number of alternatives for adult play. The huge four-poster bed dominated the room.
Bombshell For The Black Sheep (Southern Secrets Book 3) Page 12
