by Lydia Grace
“Sure, I’ll try and set some time aside from my busy schedule,” she said coldly, then turning her back on him, she walked away with her head held high.
*
How hard it was to let her go! He’d thought it would be easier, now that some time had elapsed, but she still had the same effect on him, that feeling of bathing in moonglow when she was near him. He was bereft as she moved away from him, leaving him cold, and barren.
In the blink of her beautiful eyes, he’d gone from determination never to go near her again to longing like a teenager in the grip of a crush to see her just one more time.
Certainly, any one of his staff could have explained the plans for construction work on the cottage site, answered whatever questions she might have had, gotten her to sign the agreement, and that would have been that. Yet he’d told her he would see her, and he knew he had to—one more time.
Jon lay awake all night after the awards dinner, his every sense alight with Lauren, turning over his feelings, twisting the situation this way and that, until his head ached and he knew he had to take some drastic action before he lost everything.
By the time the sun rose, pale pink and turquoise, over the barn and fields beyond his window, Jon had made a decision that he knew would reverberate in his life for a long time to come. He shared his ideas briefly with Mary, feeling it was important for her to know and was both irritated and gratified by the old-fashioned look she gave him.
“About time, too,” she declared then unexpectedly she hugged him before dismissing him summarily as she went about her work, the pups at her heels.
His next task was to meet with Warren. His old friend’s understanding and approval helped to cement his own resolve. A further call to his administrative assistant, and Cathy quickly agreed to call meetings of his board of directors and departmental heads, followed by a press conference the following morning. He could hear the unspoken questions in her voice, but was grateful that she once again went about her work in a cool, professional manner and held back from asking him any questions. He asked her to sit in on the meeting, feeling she, too, should be among the first to hear of his decisions.
Three hours later, after a long, involved meeting with the company solicitors, Jon straightened his tie, picked up the sheaf of papers from his desk and, taking a deep breath, marched into the executive boardroom to face one of the most difficult meetings he was ever to undertake.
CHAPTER 20
“You’re sure you and Paul need to go out tonight?” Lauren asked plaintively as Lucy pulled a velvet jacket on over a short black evening dress.
“You think I want to stay here and witness the fireworks between you and Mr. Company Executive Rush? No way. Just remember, bloodstains are hard to get out and I’m very fond of the Berber rug in the living room,” Lucy replied with a grin. “Besides, have you any idea, between my book tour and happy hours in the hospital, how long it’s been since Paul and I went out for a romantic dinner? We might even make it a romantic all-nighter. He’s taking me to Sidewinders, and you know they have rooms there.”
“Yeah, well, make sure he brings his flannelette pajamas,” Lauren muttered savagely.
“Who needs his flannelette pajamas?” Paul asked, coming into the hallway, and Lucy dissolved in peals of laughter.
“Good Lord, look at her, helpless at my every word. Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight.” With a theatrical leer towards his wife, Paul treated Lauren to one of his bear-like hugs. “Good luck, kiddo,” he said softly. Then, taking his wife’s hand tenderly in his, he opened the big oak front door of the cottage, and they were gone.
Left alone, Lauren roamed restlessly from living room to kitchen, to sun porch and back again. So, it sounded like Jon thought she had some indebtedness under her contract with Haverford Castle. Maybe he wanted her to foot the bill for replacing the cottage his cousin had burned down! Lauren pounded the kitchen counter with her fist. In her heart, she didn’t believe that Jon intended making such outrageous claims on her, but she shivered nonetheless as she wondered just what business issues he felt had to be discussed between them.
Tears rose to her eyes as she remembered how insistent he’d been that he couldn’t meet her in Toronto. Was it that he didn’t want to be seen with her there, where so many people knew him? Was he so determined that she be kept out of his ‘real’ life that he was prepared to make the trek all the way down to West River at night rather than have her name linked with his in the city?
Hearing the soft purr of a well-tuned engine coming along the laneway, Lauren wiped her face on a handy tea towel, and using the kitchen mirror, ran a lipstick over her pale mouth, and brushed her hair. This ‘business’ meeting would probably leave her a total wreck, but she had no intention of letting Jon see her that way.
*
Rush’s stomach tensed as he turned his big 1950’s truck into the Haverford Castle driveway. His eyes were drawn first to the construction fence that surrounded the gaping hole where once Lauren’s cottage had stood, and a brief image of himself half-carrying her limp body out of the blazing pyre made him catch his breath. Then he glanced towards the woods, and heard again in his head Stephen’s harsh voice, Lauren’s panicked scream, the gunshot which had shattered his world.
He turned off the engine and sat in the silence for a few moments, hearing the voices of ghosts in the wind. Then he shrugged himself out of the seat belt and climbed down from the cab. Tonight he intended to leave those ghosts behind him.
*
She opened the door so quickly after he pressed the buzzer that he knew she must have heard the truck and been waiting for him.
“You’re late,” was her terse greeting.
“That’s a lovely welcome.” This was not going to be an easy meeting, not that he expected it to be anything else. It probably wouldn’t compare with the difficult meetings he’d held all day, but its outcome might be even more devastating.
“Yeah, well, you didn’t exactly expect fireworks and champagne did you?” Lauren asked, grinning despite herself. Lord, but being around this man always made her feel so good!
“No, I don’t suppose I did. A cup of coffee, maybe?”
“Will that be cream, sugar and rat poison?” she asked sweetly, taking his coat and leading the way down the narrow corridor into the living room.
“Just cream and sugar, hold the rat poison,” he answered, matching her bantering tone.
“Shame,” she replied, moving through into the small galley kitchen.
“This place is a lot different from your studio,” Jon commented, taking in the cozy sitting room and kitchen. “Lucy and Paul keep their working areas separate, do they?”
“Yes,” Lauren said, coming back to where he leaned casually against the doorframe of the living room and handing him a steaming mug of fragrant brew. “Lucy likes to be able to close her door on her work, and with two of them living here, it makes things a lot more comfortable to have a family home with her office space kept separately.”
“But you preferred the open plan?” he asked.
“Well, my studio was designed just for one, and I never expected that to change.” She caught the speculative gleam in his eyes and lowered hers. “I enjoyed living with my work. My work was my life. There was no need for a separation.”
“Why do you talk in the past tense?” he asked, afraid to hear the answer but knowing he must. Lauren folded her arms across her breast, protectively, and moved away from his magnetic aura to sit on the long oatmeal colored settee.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever paint again. Oh, no, my hands will be fine,” she added, catching his look at her still bandaged palms. “But there seems to be something missing, and I haven’t had the urge to pick up a paintbrush. Whenever I think of it, I remember seeing my easel trembling in this terrific heat before it burst into flames, and I get sick to my stomach.”
Jon read the terrible pain that haunted her eyes and longed to take her in his arms, to chase away her ghosts as he knew
she could so easily chase away his. But this was not the time. Maybe there never would be a time. His chest ached, and he was glad when she spoke again.
“Anyway, it’s academic right now. Until I find another studio,” she shifted position and the light fell on the healing bruises on her cheeks.
God, Jon thought, she is so beautiful.
He squashed the blossoming of his feelings, shifting his position and moving to sit alongside her as he opened the briefcase he’d brought with him.
“Your studio is one of the things I wanted to discuss. As you’re probably now aware, Rush Co. has finalized the deal to buy Haverford Castle.”
Lauren nodded dully. So it was to be a business meeting, after all. For a moment, earlier, she’d thought she’d seen such emotion in his eyes. Don’t be a fool, kiddo, don’t get your hopes up now. She didn’t know if the warning came from her head or her heart, but she didn’t want to listen. Yet Jon’s crisp and efficient manner gave her no choice. It was obvious he wanted to conclude business and leave. Probably has a dinner date in the city, Lauren thought bitterly, noting that Jon had glanced at the slim gold watch in his wrist for the second time since he’d arrived.
“Our decision has been to continue funding Mrs. Lloyd’s work, to maintain Haverford Castle as an artist’s colony, possibly expanding the facility to boost the tourism potential, although we obviously recognize the artists’ needs for privacy and quiet,” Jon said, catching Lauren’s startled gaze. She looked him right in the eye for the first time that evening, but when she didn’t speak, he continued, “Which brings us back to your studio. I have blueprints here, two different sets. One is to replicate the building exactly as it was, which you may not want, and the other is larger and has been left open for your suggestions.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you consulting me over this rebuilding?” Lauren’s voice was firm, but inside she trembled.
“Because it’s my intention to deed the cottage to you, for as long as you wish to remain at Haverford Castle,” he answered, holding her gaze.
“No,” her eyes blazed into his, “I’ve told you, I want nothing from you.”
“This is little more than replacing the facilities you enjoyed under your original contract with Mrs. Lloyd.”
“It’s a hell of a lot different, and you know it!” Lauren held her voice down with difficulty.
Was this man never going to understand? To cap it all, he was looking at his watch again!
“Do you mind if we watch the business news for a few moments?” he asked mildly, reaching over to flick the set on.
Lauren was about to make a savage reply when the pictures of Jon flickering across the screen caught her attention.
“In a move which caught the business world completely off-guard today, Jon Rush, president of the giant national conglomerate, Rush Co., announced his resignation from the company. Mr. Rush will maintain a controlling interest in the company through his shareholdings, but will no longer take an active part in the day-to-day running of the business.”
Jon turned off the television, leaning back against the settee and sipping his coffee. Lauren’s mouth, which had fallen open at the news, snapped shut as she turned to him. How could he sit there looking so relaxed and smug?
“Okay, I can see you’re going to make me ask. Not that it has anything to do with me, but why? That company was your life…” Lauren fixed her deep green gaze on him, demanding an answer to her question.
“It has a great deal to do with you. But first, I have a couple of questions that you must answer.”
“And if I don’t?” she wasn’t sure she’d want to answer anything he might ask of her right now.
“Then I will leave you the blueprints to consider, give you the name of the construction foreman to call, and this meeting will be over.” He spoke casually, and she envied the relaxed line of his long body as he lounged in his seat. Her own body was racked with tension; her shoulders ached with the effort of staying still.
“That sounds like an ultimatum.”
“It is, Lauren, it is,” he sighed. “But don’t you see? You can’t really lose. Even if you don’t want to talk to me, you can still have your studio back. Haverford Castle will go on as always. You’ll have your life back pretty much as it was before all this happened. That’s really all any of us can ask.”
Lauren rubbed the nape of her neck, feeling the tension that had gathered there. The movement pulled the loose sweater caressingly against her breasts, outlining them. Jon swallowed at the sight, and marveled at how such a simple, innocent gesture by this woman could inflame him.
“So what are your questions?” she asked her voice low and tired.
Jon took a deep breath, filling his lungs like a drowning man going down for the third time. “Did you love my cousin, Stephen?”
The question fell into the silence of the cottage like a giant meteor hitting the earth. It was the last thing Lauren had expected, and she gasped as she caught Jon’s guarded look. Letting out a deep sigh, she shook her head slowly, from side to side, as if trying to clear her vision.
“No, Jon. I didn’t love Stephen,” she said slowly. “Stephen took me out a couple to times. We had fun, and then he became very possessive. I had already warned him off when…” she gulped, swallowing the words she almost said.
“When what?”
“Okay, if you must know, when I met you and knew I didn’t want to see anyone else. It was over with Stephen before we met—there had never really been anything between us—a couple of meals, and a walk in the park. We’d never slept together, if that’s what’s eating you!” Her words were savage, but how else could she cope with the pain he was stirring inside her?
“Just one more question, then,” Jon’s voice was cool and calm and she hated him.
“Go to hell,” Lauren grunted at him, transferring her hatred of him to hatred of her own treacherous physiology, her every nerve ending throbbing with growing awareness of the man.
“All in good time. Do you hate me because you saw me almost kill another man?” The question came out smoothly, surprising Jon because he had had to squeeze it past a lump in his throat that seemed big enough to choke him.
The sheer vulnerability of the question betrayed his feelings to Lauren. Tears sprang to her eyes as she shook her head.
“No, Jon. I think you were doing what anyone else would have done. No, more than that. You’d gone after Stephen, trying in some way to save him before the police got to him. It wasn’t your fault that it all turned so savage.”
“But what I did was unforgivable, I know. I don’t believe that you would have actually killed Stephen with that rock,” Lauren’s voice was harsh as her own words stripped her nerves like a razor blade. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? In that split second, I was terrified that you’d do something that you’d regret for the rest of your life. But in not trusting you, I interfered; I took away your control of your life. Stephen turned that gun on himself, and now you’ll never know if you would have taken his life or not, or if you could have saved him. And that’s why you can’t bear to be with me now, isn’t it?”
Silence roared between them. Jon’s head was down, studying the floor as Lauren spoke, but moments later he lifted his head and she saw the tears in his eyes.
“My God, Lauren, is that what you believe? That I hate you for stopping me from killing Stephen? Because I’ll never know if I could have done that? Or if I could have saved his life?” his voice was a whisper that she had to strain to hear.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Her own voice was low and bitter. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Jon. And you’d maybe find it in your heart to have a little pity for me, at least, if you knew the hell I go through every day when I imagine how it would have been if Stephen had taken the opportunity when you were distracted by my scream to turn the gun on you instead of himself.”
She couldn’t hold back the tears now, and great heavi
ng sobs racked her body as she curled into herself in the corner of the settee. She heard the bump of his briefcase falling to the floor, and thought with desolation that Jon was about to storm out in disgust.
Then his arms were around her, pulling her to him, his lips kissing away the salty pearls of moisture that streamed from her eyes. Her arms went around him and she clung to his warm strength as if afraid he’d vanish if she loosened her grip. Jon pulled her closer, drawing them both down until they lay together on the tweed upholstery, their bodies joined along their whole length, their tears mingling on their cheeks.
“In the Persian Gulf I killed some people, indiscriminately, enemy soldiers who’d have killed me if I hadn’t pulled the trigger first. But it sickened me, so much so that I couldn’t wait to get out of the army when the war was over. I was vulnerable then, and racked with guilt because I hadn’t been there when my father died. So I set about carrying on his work, building Rush Co. into a major player. I didn’t consciously realize what I was doing. But really I was dedicating my life to creating a memorial to him because I hadn’t been the son I knew he wanted.
“You see, he was devoted to the business, and I’d resented him for that as I was growing up. It seemed he always put work ahead of my mother and me, and in my teenage mind, I believed that’s what had driven my mother from us. It’s taken a long time for me to realize that it was more complicated than that. But in the meantime, I didn’t just live to continue my father’s work, I became my father. Never taking a day off, never doing anything just for fun. At the risk of sounding like a pop psychologist, I think the farm, the horses, the truck restoration, even the Labrador puppies, were all subconscious attempts to reassert my real self. But they all failed—until I met you.” He paused looking into her face, then captured her lips for a single, brief kiss, and felt the clamor rise in him for more.
“Lauren, through you I glimpsed a world that was more my own. I didn’t want to be company president. But then this whole thing happened with Stephen, and I listened to all he said about the way I was destroying the people I loved, like my father had done, and because I was vulnerable, I believed it all. And I tried to cut you out of my life because I didn’t want to destroy you.”
