“Would you like to come in for a nightcap?” she asked him as he walked with her to her room.
He gazed down at her, trying not to be judgmental. “You never told me what your relationship is with Matt, and I don’t cheat on my girl, so we’d best say good-night right here.”
“It’s a pity,” she said with her head held high and her shoulders back. “Thanks for a delightful and unusual evening. Goodbye.”
He took the key card from her hand, inserted it, opened the door and handed the card back to her. “Good night.” Normally, he would have been pleased at his gentlemanly manner. But since he hadn’t been the least bit tempted, he didn’t even have that satisfaction. He knew why Matt wasn’t getting stuck in that honeycomb: the sweet stuff was too easy to get.
Judson’s call the next morning didn’t surprise him. “What was going on last night, buddy? I thought you and Denise were—”
“Butt out, Judson. Denise is enjoying a woman’s right to make up her mind about me, and while she does that, I’m enjoying a single man’s right to do as I please.”
“Your date must have been pretty handy. Five days ago, you didn’t even remember the fundraiser.”
“Let Denise take care of her interests, provided she has any. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“I don’t suppose you remember how you browbeat me about Heather.”
“Heather is like a sister to me. I know she and Pamela will be on my case, but they’re whipping the wrong horse. If they’re interested, they should talk some sense into Denise.” He hung up the phone, leaned against the wall and let it take his weight. He missed Denise, and he’d promised himself that she’d have to call him, but keeping that promise was killing him.
“No, I don’t,” he said to himself. “I love her. Damn it, I need her!”
Totally out of sorts, he phoned his father and knew as soon as he’d dialed the number that he was seeking advice from the one source that never failed him. The sound of Raynor Galloway’s deep baritone was all he needed to hear. “How are you, son? You’re up pretty early for a Sunday morning.”
“Hi, Dad. What were you planning to do today?”
“Nothing special. I was thinking about driving over to Frederick to that big antique show. They have it once a year. You can see everything from gold hairpins to handmade antique Duesenberg cars. Would you care to go with me?”
“Sure, provided you’re willing to cook breakfast,” he said, without giving it much thought.
“Don’t I always? I know you’re a pretty fair cook. If you want to fill up on my popovers, be here in an hour.”
“Can I make it an hour and a half? I haven’t even showered.”
“All right, but don’t speed.”
They hadn’t been at the fair thirty minutes before he saw her. In dark glasses, a wide-brimmed straw hat, a yellow T-shirt, midcalf white pants and gold flip-flops, she looked great, though her outfit seemed somewhat out of character.
“Who is she?” his father asked. “And who is she to you?”
“She’s Denise Miller, and she doesn’t know what I am to her.” He nudged his father’s elbow. “I want you to meet her.”
She saw him seconds before they reached her. “Scott! What a surprise.”
He tried to push back that feeling of need that tingled through his body at the mere sight of her, the vulnerability that he couldn’t control. But as a career diplomat, self-control was his stock-in-trade, so his smile lit up his face. “Hi. With the decor of your houses, it wouldn’t have occurred to me that you’d be interested in antiques.”
From her smile, one would have thought that he was her morning sun and evening shade. “For me, antiques represent history…period.”
“Denise Miller, this is my father, Dr. Raynor Galloway. Dad’s the one with an interest in antiques. I’m curious about them, but that’s about it.” He tried not to stare at her, but his gaze refused to leave her, and he knew that his eyes told her and his father what she meant to him.
She removed her glasses, revealing the remarkable beauty of her eyes—light brown irises in a dark brown pool—and extended her right hand as she smiled. “I’m happy to meet you, sir. I hope you’ve been enjoying our annual fair.”
Raynor shook her hand and held it for a moment as he scrutinized her. “I’m glad I decided to come, Ms. Miller. Scott hasn’t mentioned one word about you, but I can see that he should have. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I gather from what you said that you live in or very close to Frederick.” He released her hand.
“Yes, sir. I wanted to be in commuting distance of Washington, and Baltimore isn’t to my taste.”
A grin slid over Raynor’s face, a face that but for differences in age was mirrored in his son’s. “I gather you like to step on grass occasionally and to know as many of your neighbors as possible.”
“I do love the outdoors. When the two of you finish checking out the antiques, Scott, please bring your father to my house. I’ll put together some lunch, and I promise it will be delicious.”
Was she playing games? He had as much as told her that he wanted to know whether she was willing to work toward a committed relationship. He hadn’t asked her to commit to him, only to give them a chance. He was about decline her invitation when his dad made the decision for him.
“Thank you, Denise,” Raynor said. “I’d like very much to join you for lunch, and I’ll bring Scott with me.”
Scott glanced from his father to Denise and laughed. The two of them had just railroaded him into doing something he wasn’t sure he wanted to do, and he had let them. “Thanks for the invitation. We’ll see you around one,” he said. “And don’t make it fancy.”
“See you later.” She gave him a seductive wink that he thought he’d never get used to and walked away.
“That’s the slickest con job anybody ever pulled on me,” he said aloud. With his fists by his sides, he stared at her departing back.
“Go ahead and kid yourself,” Raynor said. “That woman’s got your number. I’m looking forward to lunch.”
He ignored his father, and straightened out his face. “You helped her do it,” he said. He told him as much as he wanted him to know about why he hadn’t seen Denise lately.
“I saw what was going on, and I wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to learn as much about her as I possibly could without your coloring things to your satisfaction.”
“I wouldn’t have done that. Besides, there’s no need. Denise is a great catch and would be to any man lucky enough to get her.”
Raynor wiped his brow in what was pure mockery. “Whew! I stepped right into that one. Sorry.”
This time, it was Scott who winked. “That’s a great-looking little vase over there. Wonder how much it costs,” he said and changed the subject.
“Anywhere from five hundred to a thousand—maybe even higher. It looks as if Louis Comfort Tiffany designed it.”
“But it’s glass. If I break it, that’s a lot of money in broken pieces,” Scott said.
His father looked at him the way he did when Scott was a teenager feeling his oats. “And you think falling for a woman isn’t a gamble. If that goes wrong, it costs you one heck of a lot more than the price of a Tiffany vase. I never thought you were afraid to take chances.”
“I’m not, but as you’ve told me all my life, when I see the potential for trouble, go the other way. I wish I had at least worn a pair of shoes.”
Raynor grinned and patted him gently on the back. “Don’t worry. She’ll be glad to see you.”
A quick stop at her favorite grocery store, and Denise had what she needed to prepare lunch. Fortunately, Priscilla kept the refrigerator, freezer and pantry well stocked. She defrosted two containers of frozen lump-crab meat, boiled some tiny green peas and put them into the freezer to cool rapidly. She made a crab salad, and mixed in the peas and some diced roasted red peppers for color, and put it in the refrigerator. She prepared a big pot of leek-and-potato soup, pureed it
in the blender and put it back into the pot to stay warm. Brick-oven-baked whole wheat rolls, sliced tomatoes and peach ice cream completed the menu.
She changed into a long white cotton skirt that had tiers upon tiers of ruffles—it was the only skirt she owned that wasn’t sexy-looking—a ruffled long-sleeved lavender blouse and a pair of white thong sandals. She looked good. Scott would think that she was trying to impress his father, and he’d be right. All was fair in the tug-of-war between woman and man. And at least for today, she’d established the ground rules.
The doorbell rang at exactly one o’clock. She opened the door and looked at Scott to gauge his mood, since she knew she’d put one over on him. About an inch taller than his father, Scott stood behind him, and when she opened the door, he greeted her with a curious look.
She ignored it and smiled at seeing the two of them. “Scott’s more punctual than a Swiss clock,” she said to his father. “So I knew exactly what time to open the door.”
“This is not the one you should be opening,” Scott said, serving notice.
“I don’t mind if you two fight,” Raynor said. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d wait until after I enjoy the nice lunch Denise has prepared.” He followed her to the living room. “What a lovely place. Attractive, comfortable and restful—that combination isn’t easy to achieve.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said. They sat down and she passed Scott a basket of cheese sticks. She wondered what amused Scott’s father as he tried to suppress his laughter.
“When I saw these cheese sticks, I figured that was the end of the fighting between the two of you. You apparently know what works, Denise.”
“Dad…” Scott said.
“I sure hope you’re right,” Denise said, ignoring Scott’s evident unease. She’d already decided to level with his father since he had taken the measure of their relationship. “I have lemonade, beer and red or white wine. Which would you like?”
“Of course I’m right,” Raynor said. “I hope you’ve got plenty of these.” He bit into a cheese stick. She loved Raynor Galloway’s sense of humor, his keen insight and his delicate way of reprimanding Scott.
“Since I’m not driving, I’ll take the one that’s easiest for you,” Raynor said. She brought him white wine, since she hoped to serve it with their lunch, and gave Scott a tall glass of lemonade.
“How do you know I don’t want wine?” Scott asked her.
“Because you don’t drink when you drive, and I doubt you’d let your father chauffeur you around in your car.”
“Thanks for the lemonade, and don’t forget to hug Priscilla for these cheese sticks. They are to die for.” He turned to his dad. “Priscilla is her housekeeper, and she makes these cheese sticks.”
“Hmm,” he said under his breath. “Surprised you haven’t moved in.” She heard him, but realized that the remark was only meant as a jab for Scott, so she ignored it. While they finished their drinks, she returned to the kitchen to get the food to put on the table and gasped when she noticed the all-white porcelain, the vase of white roses and the white linen tablecloth and napkins. She realized that it might have looked as if she was dropping a hint that this was something special, but she wasn’t. She’d bought the white porcelain as a luncheon service. Too late, she thought and headed back to the living room.
“Lunch is ready.” She pointed to a door. “If you’d like to wash your hands, there’s the powder room.” She waited for the two men at the dining room table. Raynor returned first.
“I really do like your taste,” he said. “This is a fine house.” And then, in a swift change of subject, he said, “Don’t be afraid to trust Scott. He hasn’t a crooked bone in his body. If you’re interested in him, don’t let him get away. Not even I would dare to do that. Beautiful table. I suspect that whatever you touch becomes elegant.”
“Thank you, sir, for everything.”
He nodded and smiled, making it clear that he understood her meaning.
Scott walked into the dining room and took a seat opposite his father. Raynor bowed his head and waited, as Denise said grace.
Scott was a bit taken aback at the table setting. Although, he gave her the benefit of the doubt, since Denise was, if anything, well versed in etiquette.
“Thanks for this delicious lunch,” Raynor said.
“When did you do this? It’s exactly right for a hot day like this one.”
“Thank you. I did it this morning after I left you.” She put the peach ice cream into individual bowls, poured a jigger of Scotch whiskey over each and served it with mini–hazelnut wafers. No one had to tell her that she was the perfect hotess, but the two men thanked her profusely.
“I’ll remember this day for a long time,” Raynor said as they stood at the door ready to leave. “I suspect you’re a woman with many talents, and I hope to see more of you.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m glad I met you.” She reached up, kissed his cheek and lowered her head to avoid having him see the emotion that she knew was reflected in her face. Raynor quickly returned her affection, opened the door and walked toward the car.
Suddenly fearful and anxious, she looked up at Scott. “He…uh…I like him a lot,” she stammered.
“It’s obviously mutual. I didn’t realize that my dad would fall so quickly for a pretty woman.”
“Scott, I’ve been so unhappy.”
“All you had to do was pick up the phone and dial my number,” he said.
“I was going to, but Pamela said you took another woman to the fundraiser.”
“How did Pamela know it wasn’t an innocent date?”
“Because she said it didn’t look like it.”
He gazed down at her. “And that’s all it took to convince you that I’d been cheating, right?”
“No. That’s all it took to make me miserable. Is she someone you’re seeing?”
He didn’t see the point in lying. “No, she isn’t. She’s a friend of my younger brother Matt, and she was only in town for that day.”
“Are we all right now?”
“Denise, you have my home phone numbers and my cell number. I’m still waiting for your call. I care a lot for you, but I won’t wait indefinitely.”
“Scott,” Denise said as Scott was about to leave. He paused and waited. “What does your father think about me?”
“Why?”
“He’s a very special man.”
“Thanks. I always knew he’d like you.”
She watched him walk down the stairs to the car where his father sat in the passenger seat waiting for him. He’d been nice, but that was all. Several times, when he’d thought she wasn’t paying attention to him, she’d caught him looking at her, his eyes ablaze with desire. She wouldn’t give up, and she appreciated his father’s advice. Scott was a master of self-control and extremely stubborn. At least his father liked her. She wondered about his grandmother and the rest of his family. One thing was for certain, she was not going to listen to any more of Pamela’s talk about another woman.
Around five-thirty, she put on jeans, a shirt and sneakers and went out back of the house to work in her garden, but it was still too hot. She didn’t want to visit the Harringtons, she wanted…
“I’m stupid,” she said aloud, then took a shower, dried off, pampered her body with perfumed lotion and fell across her bed naked. Her long hair blanketed the pillow. Her hands caressed her arms, breasts, belly and thighs until she felt a tear run down her cheek.
“I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with him. I need him, and I don’t want anybody else,” she said to herself, fell over on her belly and wiped her eyes with the bedspread.
Don’t be a fool, a voice in her head admonished. Just call him. She took the phone from the cradle and dialed his cell phone.
“Hello, Denise.”
“Hi.” She told herself that it was now or never. “Can you…can you come over?”
“I just left there.”
“I know, but your dad was wi
th you. I know I don’t want any man but you and I…I need you. I want us to see if we can work things out. I’m terribly unhappy with things the way they are now. You didn’t even touch me.”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Me? I’m lying down.”
“What are you wearing?
“Why do you ask?”
“You don’t want to know,” he insisted.
Like hell I don’t, she thought.
“That low, sultry tenor of your voice is a giveaway. I’ll be over. It’ll take me an hour and a half to dress and then drive back to your house. Don’t move ’til I get there.”
“Scott!”
“You heard me.” He hung up.
If he thought she was going to answer the door naked, he wasn’t driving on four wheels. She rolled off the bed and started dressing. You won’t get away from me tonight, she said to herself. But as she began to dress, it occurred to her that she shouldn’t appear as if she was expecting to make love to him. Scott liked a challenge. Besides, hadn’t he told her that he wanted them to have a weekend away to themselves, so that they could give the relationship a chance?
She slipped into a pair of beige twill slacks and a long-sleeved silk shirt that had avocado-green, tan and beige stripes, and ran a long avocado-green silk scarf through the belt loops of her slacks. She wore a pair of beige sandals with three-inch heels, and gold hoops adorned her ears. She fidgeted as she waited for him, moving a chair, cleaning the coffee table, straightening a lamp shade, checking the ice dispenser and, in her anxiety, slowly going crazy.
At last, the doorbell rang, and she looked at her watch. He’d arrived with five minutes to spare. She rushed to open the door. “Hi. Come in.”
He walked in, handed her a bunch of yellow and orange gazanias. “Oh, they’re so beautiful,” she said with a gasp. “I love them. You deserve a kiss for this.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, I don’t always get what I deserve. I thought I told you not to move ’til I got here.”
“I know,” she said, putting a tinge of sorrow in her voice, “but I couldn’t figure out how to open the door for you without getting off the bed, and if I’d been able to do that, I wasn’t about to open this door in the nude.”
A Compromising Affair (The Harringtons) Page 8
