A hundred thoughts and emotions swirled inside Allie’s mind. She’d been trying to deny it, too.
“Say something, Allie. I’m going crazy here. I can’t be at the house all the time or I’ll explode with my need to be near you. One of these days I won’t be able to stop myself from carrying you up the stairs like Rhett Butler with Scarlett.”
Ethan tried to make a joke out of it, but Allie sensed that he was serious.
“That’s one of my most favorite romantic movies,” she said softly, brushing her flyaway hair out of her eyes.
Ethan caught her hands and brought her closer, soaking up her eyes and mouth with a hungry look.
“I—I’m on the rebound,” she said, staring at the waves crashing along the shoreline. If she kept her gaze fastened to his she’d probably start to swoon, too. “I’m not to be trusted.”
“Feelings never lie. Or intuition. I think you’re beginning to come to grips with the signs about Sean’s lack of character that you missed.”
Allie threw back her head. “How do you know these things? It’s like you’re inside my head.”
”Somehow you and I are connected. I felt it right away, even when you were threatening to kill me.”
Allie gave a sharp laugh. “Isn’t that just a bunch of hocus pocus? ‘Feelings’, I mean.” She put air quotes around the word. “Our feelings confuse us, and then betray us. Every single time.”
“Stop talking like that, Allie,” Ethan ordered huskily.
Before she could say anything else, his arms went around her and he pulled her against him. She felt his chest and stomach muscles underneath his sweater, his breath spicy and masculine in the most delicious way. He was so close, so handsome, so perfectly the right height, his warm fingers brushing along her cheek.
He came closer—those eyes!—and Allie was frozen, unable to stop him. Not wanting to stop him. Before she could take another breath, his lips melted against hers, warm and tender and indescribable.
Ethan pulled her arms around his waist as he deepened the kiss. Allie’s heart pounded so hard against her ribs she thought she might pass out.
Frothy waves crashed while they stood locked together on the beach in their own little cocoon. Allie lifted her chin, kissing Ethan back, and his lips were so soft, so perfect, she couldn’t seem to get enough.
A moment later, Allie sagged against his chest, tugging at his shirt collar with her fingers while she buried her cold face into his pull-over sweater.
“You—You—” she tried to speak.
“What?” he whispered in her ear, his hands cupping her head to keep her close.
“That wasn’t fair. That was—oh, you.” Allie couldn’t explain what she was feeling. Her legs were unsteady, her heart stuttering Part of her wanted to run—and the other half of her wanted to kiss him all night. In Ethan’s arms Allie felt safe. And desired. Because she knew that Ethan only had eyes for her.
Guilt reared its ugly head though. Conscious that she’d kissed another man only three weeks since being left at the altar.
Ethan chuckled at the way she stammered. He tilted her chin to look up at him, and the connection was instant and electric. “I don’t care if it’s fair or not. That kiss was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’d kiss you again, but we’re drawing an audience on the rock bluff.”
Allie shaded her eyes, relieved to see that it was a group of tourists and nobody she knew. She glanced away, not wanting to look at Ethan. She wasn’t sure she could take the power of what she read in his face.
“What are you thinking?” he murmured while they gazed out at the white caps and the rolling waves growing taller with each passing moment.
“I’m thinking it’s dangerous to look at you.”
His breath was warm against her skin. “Can we take down the sheets dividing up the house?”
“No!” she said vehemently, then laughed at the vigor of her words. “Those sheets are my—my insurance. Honestly, I don’t know what to do with you . . . ”
Allie twisted around in his arms, her toes cold and damp while she tried to get her head back on straight.
“I was teasing,” Ethan told her. “The sheets are not coming down. Ever. Not in a million years. Even if there was a flood, a hurricane, a tornado. Those sheets will remain strung across the house for the rest of our lives.”
A giggle burst from her throat, and then Allie glared at him. “You are too much.”
He took her hand and tugged her up the path back to the car. “We’d better go now. My grandmother awaits.”
They didn’t speak again until they were inside with the doors shut and Ethan started up the engine. Before pulling into the road, he turned his head toward her. “If I did something horribly wrong, please forgive me. But honestly, it’s all I can do not to kiss you again. I’m going to have a hard time getting your lips out of my head.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to try,” Allie said bluntly in an attempt to get her composure back.
“I felt your heart racing, Allie. Just like mine.”
Allie stared out the window. Ethan’s kiss was the most tender and sexy kiss she’d ever had in her life, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. She couldn’t.
One part of her felt like an idiot for ever wanting to marry Sean and the other part of her felt like an idiot for wanting to crawl into bed with Ethan Smith.
It was too fast, too soon. Almost a month ago she’d been a married woman, committed to Sean Carter till they parted at death. She couldn’t process what was happening with Ethan. Her feelings were crazy, too needy. Maybe that’s all this was. She was lonely, vulnerable, and nursing a shattered ego.
At the stop sign, Ethan put on the brake. He glanced down the road but there were no other cars in sight. “Before we continue to my grandmother’s place, I have to know one thing.”
She frowned. “What’s that?”
“Please tell me I’m not crazy,” he said. “Tell me if that kiss was the real thing, or not. I need to know one way or the other. I’m not going to pressure you to change our relationship, but I also don’t want you placating me or brushing me off. It’s important, and you’ll soon know why.”
Allie stared at him, bewildered. “You are a mystery, Ethan.”
He didn’t say another word, just waited for her next words.
“Okay,” she said at last. “I worry that I’m crazy and needy and silly and need a man to reassure me after what Sean did. That I’m just lonely and desperate.” She paused. “But, yes, that was probably the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life. And yes, I’ve been attracted to you for at least a week.”
“Only a week?” Ethan’s laugh was soft. “Oh, Allie, you’re something else.”
Turning into the road, he reached over and took her hand, pressing his lips against the back of it without another word.
Chapter 14
Ethan didn’t try to touch her when they parked the car and walked up the path to the “nursing home”.
“This is the nicest nursing home I’ve ever seen,” Allie said, narrowing her eyes.
“Well,” Ethan confessed. “It used to be a nursing home that was abandoned. The owners of the property was going to demolish it until good old granny bought it, gutted it, and turned it into her own little palace.”
Allie looked at him quizzically when the front door opened by a man dressed in a black suit—with gold cufflinks and tie clip.
At first, Allie thought he might be Ethan’s father, but Ethan shook his hand, calling him Mr. Sherman.
Soft orchestral music was playing somewhere, but after a moment Allie realized the music was being piped throughout the house. The furnishings were impeccable. No expense had been spared. Flowing draperies, plush couches, thick mauve carpets, parquet flooring, huge paintings on the walls—family portraits mostly, some dating back to the Regency era of the 1820’s.
Allie had the oddest sense she was in a replica of one of the manor houses of England.
; The place was lavish but tasteful, and it reeked of money. Obviously, Miss Elizabeth Stewart wasn’t just well off, she was flabbergasting-ly wealthy.
“Is she really your grandmother?” Allie asked in a low voice, wondering if this expedition was some kind of a joke. She tugged at Ethan’s sleeve while Mr. Sherman escorted them through the living rooms to the master suite beyond. “Or some rich family friend your mother likes you to visit?”
Ethan raised his eyebrows at her doubts. “Nope, she’s my grandmother alright. The one and only.”
“None of this is jiving,” Allie muttered as Mr. Sherman escorted them into a beautiful master suite sitting room. “And you’re just a photographer journalist. Right.”
Morning light poured through a wall of windows centered by a pair of French doors which opened onto a stone patio flush with hanging flowers and bordered by roses. An emerald lawn stretched out, dotted by huge shade trees. So lush Allie wished she was a kid again and could go rolling down the gentle slope to the pond below. She and her brother, Jake, used to roll down the hill at the town park when they were kids.
“What a gorgeous room!” Allie exclaimed, unable to help herself.
An elderly woman’s voice spoke to her left, “The remodel did turn out nice, didn’t it?”
Allie turned to see Miss Elizabeth Stewart leaning on her cane and gazing out at the beautiful morning. The older woman was wearing a flowing dress with coiffed snowy white hair and blended pink rouge on her cheeks. Her back was straight despite the cane, and her smile genuine.
“I just hope heaven is as nice as this when I die,” Miss Ellie went on. “The house and landscaping took a full year—and when you’re eighty-eight years old that feels like half your life.”
“Grandmother does everything superbly,” Ethan said. “No detail overlooked.” He opened the French doors for them to step through onto pavings that had been painted to look like silver-veined granite. “Shall we?”
“I think I just stepped into a dream,” Allie said.
“Why, thank you, my dear,” Miss Ellie said. “Sit down, you two. We have this nice table to sit at, and Mr. Sherman is bringing brunch.”
Allie opened her mouth to say that they had already eaten breakfast, but Ethan gave her a quick wink and held a finger to his lips. Allie nodded, understanding that he didn’t want to hurt his grandmother’s feelings by not eating the specially prepared food.
The table was certainly not a picnic table though. Gleaming white wrought-iron, cushions on the chairs, a glass top with a basket of fresh flowers in the middle.
No sooner had they sat down, than Mr. Sherman poured juice and coffee and laid out scones and jam and clotted cream, as well as an abundant fruit salad with another platter of rolled ham and pastrami.
“This looks beautiful,” Allie said.
“Dig in,” Ethan added.
After the walk along the shoreline of Hopewell Rock, Allie found that she’d burned off breakfast and her stomach was giving off signs of hunger.
“Cream, Miss Strickland?” the butler asked at her shoulder, bending over to pour from a quaint pitcher.
“And sugar,” she said, feeling self-conscious when Ethan was having his coffee black. “I have a sweet tooth.”
“Give the lady another cinnamon roll,” Ethan added.
A plate of warm and gooey cinnamon rolls appeared next. “Oh, goodness,” Allie said, sniffing in the yeasty smell of rolls and cream cheese frosting. “Remind me not to eat dinner. I think my calorie count has reached its limit already.”
“But it was your turn to cook tonight,” Ethan teased.
Miss Ellie turned her snapping dark eyes on them. “So it’s like that, is it? Young people today have no patience. You must live together and act like you’re married—only to break up at the first fight.”
Allie’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, it’s not like that at all! I’m upstairs, Ethan’s downstairs, we just cook a few meals now and then. There is nothing between us!”
Ethan’s face fell and Allie felt a stab of regret in her chest. She didn’t mean to sound so adamant, or mean. She just didn’t want his grandmother to get the wrong idea.
“I like you better already, Miss Strickland,” Miss Ellie said, patting Allie’s hand with frail fingers. “Have some more of those perfect watermelon wedges, my dear.”
Ethan glanced up at Allie. “Surely there’s friendship?
Allie softened her tone. “Of course, Ethan.”
Ethan went quiet, staring out across the perfect expanse of lawns.
“If I’m not mistaken, you leased my little Victorian town house?” Miss Ellie asked.
Allie nodded. “I did. I love it. But I thought—”
The older woman’s hand shook slightly as she lifted her napkin to her mouth. “Ethan owns it now. It was a recent coming-of-age present.”
“You mean you just turned twenty-one?” Allie said, unable to stop from teasing.
“Thirty,” Ethan answered. “Good old thirty.”
“The Stewart family has lived in Heartland Cove for many generations now.”
“It’s an incredible history and family heritage, Miss Ellie.”
“The family trust owns the bridge, actually. And much of the land around town.”
“My goodness, that’s—” Allie stopped herself as chills ran down her neck at the thought of Ethan’s net worth.
Ethan had a peculiar look in his eyes.
Allie pressed her lips together, almost feeling deceived all over again. “I shall call you Miles from now on, Mr. Miles Benjamin Ethan.”
“Oh, I do wish you would, my dear.” Miss Ellie took Allie’s fingers in hers, pressing them lightly with the fragile strength she had in her birdlike hands, purple with veins, despite the perfectly pink painted fingernails. “This Ethan Smith alias business is just silly.”
“Grandmother, you know I couldn’t come back to town as your heir. We need to stop the city council from destroying Heartland Cove.”
“I understand, but I still don’t like it. I wish people were more honest. Lies and subterfuge in politics get worse all the time. Nobody keeps their word.”
“I understand exactly what you mean, Miss Ellie,” Allie told her. She was thinking of Sean Carter, but she was also thinking of Ethan/Miles. At least he had a good reason for pretending to be a photographer to learn Mayor Jefferies secrets.
“Keep me posted on those meetings,” Miss Ellie told her grandson.
“I will. And now I think I need to get Allie home.”
“Oh, I’m having a lovely time,” Allie contradicted. “I’ve been waiting to hear all about your childhood, Ethan. Oh, pardon me, Miles.”
“You know I hate that name—and it’s my surname.”
“I know no such thing!” Allie was starting to enjoy this more and more. It was nice to have the upper hand for once.
“I actually went by Ben growing up. Benjamin Ethan. There. You happy now?”
“Deliriously.”
His eyes held a touch of amusement. Including irony. “I’ve actually known you for years, Allie.”
“How could you? I’m almost five years younger, which means we never attended high school at the same time.”
An expression of mortification crossed his face. “You never saw me, but I saw you. I was in love with the Fry Truck girl. Even though I was just another customer in the long line for the perfect French Fry.”
No, Allie pleaded with her eyes. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Or maybe he did mean them. Which was better—or worse? This man was confusing her.
“Are you going to laugh at the most tender feelings of my youth? The awkward, shy boy who—”
“Oh, shut up. You’re pulling my leg now. I can’t believe anything you say.”
“Allie,” he said gently. “I’m not trying to make light of it, but I don’t know how to tell you the truth. And, I think you don’t want to hear it.”
Miss Ellie watched them with great interest. “I feel like I
’m inside one of those romantic comedies. Except neither of you are laughing.”
Allie put a hand to her cheek, heat flaming her face. “This is so embarrassing. We’re arguing like a couple of kids.”
Miss Ellie smiled indulgently and shook her head. “No, not like kids. Like two people who—” she stopped abruptly. “Why don’t we take a little walk about the property? I need to move, or I’ll be glued to this chair forever more. It happens at my age. The doctor gives me this advice: keep eating, keep drinking, and keep walking.”
“As long as it’s a good scotch, Grandmother,” Ethan said with a small laugh.
She swatted his arm, and then ordered, “Let me hold on to you, my dear.”
The three of them spent the next fifteen minutes strolling across the lawns and admiring the new windows in the gazebo. Fountains sprayed cool water, misting them as they walked by. Flowers were heady with perfume. Allie felt as though she were swimming in perfect beauty.
Mr. Sherman provided them with ice cold lemonade on a silver tray at the end and then Allie and Ethan took their leave.
“I need to get back to work,” Ethan told his grandmother. “And Allie keeps a strict daily agenda.”
“Daily agenda?” Allie echoed, shaking her head at his aggravating fibs.
A few minutes later, their goodbye’s said, Ethan held the car door open for Allie.
Throwing the door closed, Allie whirled about on her heels, jabbing a finger into Ethan’s shoulder. “You liar! Oh, you’re just a poor lowly photographer taking photos of quaint, picturesque Heartland Cove. The hometown that you love so much you’d do anything to save it. You’re a stinking filthy rich billionaire for heaven’s sake!”
Ethan took a deep breath, staring straight into her eyes without wavering. “I brought you here because I knew I couldn’t keep it from you any longer. And I brought you here because I trust you to keep my secrets safe—at least for now.”
“What are your secrets, Ethan Smith?” Allie asked icily. “Be honest with me or I’ll kick you out of the house so fast you won’t know what hit you.”
“Alright, here goes,” Ethan began. “My family is one of the original founders of Heartland over two hundred years ago. We actually own many of the businesses here, including the tourist industry. We hire out the management to provide employment.”
The Neighbor's Secret (A Secret Billionaire Romance #1) Page 11
