by Ruth Langan
Her friend made a purring sound of agreement.
Celeste turned to see what they were looking at. Drew was standing in a circle of women. Whatever he’d said had drawn nods of agreement, along with the warmth of bubbling laughter.
She felt a rush of feeling that startled her. Jealousy? It couldn’t be. She didn’t have a jealous bone in her body.
Still…
As she watched the way the women interacted with him, she felt a bristle of resentment. They were practically drooling.
She turned away and headed toward her office. She’d wasted enough time. Let those silly women make fools of themselves if they wanted. As for her, she had calls to return, and paperwork to deal with.
Oh why, she thought with a fresh wave of annoyance, hadn’t Drew left on schedule?
And if he had to stay longer, why couldn’t he look like a frog?
Chapter 7
“Bitsy.” Celeste paused by the front desk. “You’re putting in a late night, too, I see.”
“I don’t mind.” The college student stifled a yawn. “Our night clerk had a big date tonight, and I told him I’d cover for him. There’s not that much to do. Most of the conference attendees have turned in for the night. There are a few still gathered in the pub.” She gestured toward the sound of voices coming from the adjoining room. “How about you, Ms. Sullivan? Ready to call it a night?”
“Not quite yet.” Celeste smiled. “But soon, I hope.”
She headed toward the courtyard and paused beside the new urns, admiring the way they looked in the moonlight. Marcus had been right. They were a perfect addition to the other plantings, adding just the right touch of color and texture.
Smiling her approval she turned and let out a quick breath at the sight of Drew directly behind her, nearly hidden in the shadows.
“You startled me. I didn’t see you there.”
He got to his feet. “I was just enjoying a cigar and brandy. Care to join me?”
“Well, I might like some brandy, but I’ll pass on the cigar.”
He chuckled as he held her chair. “All right. I’ll see what I can do. Would you like me to light the candle?”
She shook her head as she settled herself. “If you don’t mind, I prefer the darkness.”
“Good. So do I.”
She watched as he went in search of a waiter. Smoke drifted from the ashtray on the table, where he’d left his cigar. She found it oddly comforting. Maybe, she thought, because her father and grandfather had always enjoyed a cigar late at night, after a long day of work.
Within minutes Drew returned with a second snifter of brandy. He handed it to her before taking the seat beside her.
“Here’s to warm summer nights.” He touched his glass to hers.
She felt the pleasant rush of heat and wondered why she’d never been able to feel this way with any other man.
“I thought you’d be enjoying the company of all those women in the pub. You’re missing a wonderful opportunity to be the center of attention.”
He shook his head. “Too much estrogen for my taste. I’d be badly outnumbered in there.”
“So you’re hiding out here.”
“Just enjoying the stars.” He glanced heavenward. “You ought to try it now and then. It’s good for the soul.”
She followed suit and tipped back her head. “Okay. I’m looking. I hope this satisfies…” The clever words she was about to say slipped away into silence.
He turned his head and caught the expression of awe on her face. “Stunning, isn’t it?”
“It really is. I hadn’t realized just how beautiful the night sky can be here in our little courtyard.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen a prettier sight anywhere in the world.”
At the unusual gruffness in his tone she turned to see him staring, not at the sky, but at her. Not even the darkness could hide the look in his eyes.
Her own voice lowered to a whisper. “Don’t, Drew.”
“Don’t what? Say what I mean?” He touched a hand to her arm. Just the lightest of touches, but she could feel the heat race through her veins. “Why shouldn’t I? You have to know how I feel, Celeste. I’ve made no secret of it.”
“I know that we have a shared history….”
“Is that all we have? A shared history?”
“You know what I mean.” She took a sip of brandy to soothe her suddenly dry throat. “I suppose it’s always awkward when two old…” She hated to say the word. It sounded so trite. But she knew of no other way to say it. “…when two old lovers are forced to confront each other again. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
“Is that what you want? That we be friends?”
“I…” She set down her glass because her hand was shaking slightly. “Yes.”
“All right.” He offered his hand. “Friends.”
She shot him a quizzical look as she placed her hand in his. But when he surprised her by lifting it to his lips, she couldn’t hide the little shiver that danced along her spine. She withdrew her hand and clenched it firmly in her lap.
“You know just what buttons to push, don’t you, Drew?”
“I could say the same about you.”
She shook her head. “I’m not the one who’s trying to seduce you before you leave.”
“Aren’t you?” He got to his feet and jammed his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her again. “What would you call that little scene on the front steps a few nights ago?”
She shoved back her chair and stood facing him. “We’d just spent a wonderful day together. I wanted to thank you.”
“That was some thank you.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “I believe you invited me to carry you up to my room and make mad, passionate love all night. Tell me. Does the offer still stand?”
Having her own words flung back at her had her stinging with embarrassment. She was still humiliated, and more than a little puzzled, by her behavior that night.
She turned away. “I don’t know what got into me. I don’t usually act like such a fool.”
“A fool? Is that how you see yourself?” He turned her roughly to face him. His eyes, which minutes ago had been cool and controlled, were now narrowed in anger. “I used to know how to read you, Lessie.”
His use of that old nickname was an arrow straight to her heart.
“But not anymore. Now you blow hot one minute, cold the next. If I didn’t know you better I’d think I was dealing with some repressed virtuous maiden of old who wanted to experience the joy of sex without the sting of guilt.” He closed his fingers around her chin and forced her to look at him. “Is that what this is about? Protecting your virtue?”
“Damn it, Drew. It isn’t my virtue I’m trying to protect.” She felt the hot sting of tears, which only added to her humiliation. “It’s my heart.”
There was a stunned silence.
The minute the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. But it was too late to call them back. Now she’d simply have to tough it out.
“Your…?” He stared down at her with a look of astonishment.
She lifted her chin. “When you left me, I thought my heart would never heal.” She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “And I vowed I’d never let you or anyone else do that to me again.”
He framed her face with his hands. “Lessie, I’m sorry…”
“No.” She backed away until her hips were pressed to the table. “Don’t try that sweet, loving, tender routine. Every time you do that I forget, and let myself slip back into those old feelings. But I don’t want to forget, Drew. I want to remember, in order to keep from getting hurt again.”
“I never wanted to hurt you.” He stepped closer and ran his hands across her shoulders, down her arms, all the while pressing his mouth to a tangle of hair at her temple. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Then why…?”
“Shhh. Just let me hold you a minute.” He drew her closer.
“Your grandfather phoned me tonight, Lessie.”
“Why?”
“To say he’d be here first thing in the morning. We’ll have our meeting, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“You’re leaving? Tomorrow? And you weren’t going to tell me?”
“I thought it best that way.” He was brushing soft, butterfly kisses over her forehead, her eyelid, her cheek. “We seem to get a little crazy when we have to say goodbye.”
“But I…”
“Shhh. Don’t talk. Just let me hold you.” He whispered the words against her temple, her cheek, her ear. Words that had her sighing as she struggled to resist the desire to ask for more.
As if reading her mind he traced the outline of her mouth with his tongue, then avoided her mouth, kissing the tip of her nose instead. She couldn’t seem to help herself. She pressed closer and shuddered with impatience until his mouth found hers.
This was what she’d been dreading even as she found herself welcoming it. This heat that ebbed and flowed, spreading the most amazing sensations all through her system, to her very core. Tiny darts of pleasure prickled along her spine, pushing aside reason. Taking over her will, until all she wanted was this.
There was hunger in their kiss. A hunger that drove them to take the kiss deeper, then deeper still. But nothing would fill the need that was growing, gnawing, driving them until they were both trembling with it.
“It’s still there.” His words, spoken against her mouth, then inside her mouth, left her weak with desire. “This connection between us has never been severed. There’s no sense fighting it.”
“I know. Oh, Drew. I know.” She twined her arms around his neck and clung to him, returning kiss for kiss.
At first, they were so wrapped up in each other they hardly heard the chorus of feminine voices that punctuated the silence of the night. But as the voices grew louder, they lifted their heads and instinctively stepped apart.
“Why, look.” Celeste recognized the voice of the moderator from the morning’s panel discussion. “Celeste Sullivan. And Drew Hampton. How good to find both of you out here. We’ve been continuing the fascinating discussion of the price of success. Will you two join us for a drink?”
Drew gallantly deflected the attention away from Celeste, giving her time to compose herself. “Thanks. We already have a drink. But you’re welcome to join us.”
He indicated the table and chairs and held one for Celeste, who sank into it gratefully. He busied himself snagging several chairs from nearby tables to accommodate the rest of the women.
There was much commotion as the women settled themselves. A waiter was summoned from inside to take their orders. When he returned with a tray of drinks, he held a match to the wick of several hurricane candles and placed them in the center of the table.
With the addition of candlelight the mood lightened and the women began teasing Drew about being the only man in their midst.
He gave a slight bow of his head. “A rose among thorns.”
There was a burst of laughter.
“Then be careful what you say,” one of them warned with a teasing smile. “Or you might find out just how sharp our thorns can be.”
“You needn’t worry. I’m no fool.” He drained his snifter of brandy, then got to his feet, allowing his hand to linger a moment on Celeste’s shoulder. He could feel her tremble beneath his touch. “I believe I’d be wise to leave you ladies alone now. I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable expressing yourselves once I’m gone.”
Celeste watched him walk away. And noticed that every woman around the table did the same. And why wouldn’t they? It wasn’t just his rugged good looks. He was a man who commanded attention, even in a crowd. There was an air of authority about him. A look of success that went much deeper than the superficial. Like Jeremiah, she thought suddenly, Drew was a man completely comfortable with himself and those around him.
She watched that slow, easy walk that reminded her of a lion moving through his kingdom. Without a care in the world.
With an effort she managed to paste a smile to her lips as she forced herself to focus her attention on the women around her.
The women continued their discussion for more than two hours. At first Celeste toyed with the idea of slipping away after a respectable length of time. But in the end she lingered, not only because she felt she was expected to stay, but also because she found herself actually enjoying the lively conversation. These were women who understood the sense of pride that came with their success, and the downside of that same success. She was able to appreciate the hard work that had brought them to this place, and to commiserate with them over the sacrifices still to come.
“I know we’re all tired of hearing this, but my biological clock is ticking.”
Celeste glanced at the pretty young executive seated across from her who had just voiced the feelings of many of the women around her.
“Unless I have that baby in the next couple of years, time will pass me by.”
“And if you do have that baby,” remarked another, “can you still keep up the pace necessary to hold on to your job?”
“I think I can. With good daycare or a competent nanny. My mother did it,” the young woman said emphatically.
“Was your mother the executive of a busy ad agency?”
The others laughed.
Celeste stared down into the amber liquid in her glass, thinking about her own childhood. What had her grandfather called them? A family of gypsies. A fairly accurate description. They’d barely lingered in any one place for more than a year or two. As soon as their current hotel was operating at a profit, they would move on to take charge of the next failing operation.
And here she was, all those years later, still doing the same thing.
The conversation moved on to other things, but Celeste found herself still lost in thought. Until the untimely arrival of Drew, there had been no doubt in her mind. She’d known exactly what she wanted out of life. And what she wanted was this. Just this.
Now he had her questioning everything she’d always taken for granted.
Damn him.
Was this all there was to her life? Hard work, late nights with guests, and an empty bed at the end of the day? Her choice, of course. But would she be willing to exchange any of this for a husband and family? And why should she? Why couldn’t she have it all?
She glanced around at the other women, wondering if they were struggling with the same questions. Even those who’d boasted of being happily married had grudgingly admitted that it came at a high price. They felt as if they were juggling too many balls in the air. They were constantly choosing which one to catch, and which to let drop.
Their problem, Celeste told herself. As for her, she was very good at juggling. She’d had very good teachers.
When, several hours later, their little party began to break up, Celeste made her way to the elevator and punched the button for the top floor. As the doors slid silently open, she found herself hoping that Drew would invite her in for a nightcap. She was too revved to think about sleep.
She smiled to herself. Who was she kidding? It had nothing to do with the fact that she was wide awake, and everything to do with the fact that what she really wanted was to continue that little scene they’d started hours ago in the courtyard. In her present state of mind, it would be very easy for Drew to persuade her to take it to its logical conclusion.
She paused. Was that what she wanted? To be persuaded? What was happening to her? She was usually so sure of herself. She had never been some sweet, malleable little thing, eager to be talked into a man’s bed. Even when she and Drew had become lovers, the choice had been hers. She’d been so sure. So ready for that step. Now she wasn’t sure of anything. Except that, in the end, she was the one responsible for her heart. If it got trampled again, she’d have no one to blame but herself.
She paused outside her door and fished for her key, noisily inserting it in the lock. When she heard no sound
behind her she glanced over her shoulder to see if Drew had opened his door. She was disgusted to see it firmly closed. There was no light coming from underneath. She felt a wave of annoyance. Had he already gone to sleep?
She crossed the hall and listened at his door. There was no sound coming from inside.
Feeling oddly deflated, she retraced her steps and inserted the key in her lock, letting herself into her darkened suite.
Inside she flipped on the lights and kicked off her shoes before sinking down on the edge of the bed. It was just as well, she told herself. She’d been acting completely out of character ever since Drew had arrived at the Old Liberty Tavern.
It was time to take charge of her life again. She’d always been a woman who knew exactly who she was and where she was going.
The last thing she needed was to get all mushy and sentimental and fall into Drew Hampton’s bed for old times’ sake.
She undressed and crawled into bed, feeling as though she’d just missed a golden opportunity. And though she told herself it was because she’d been hoping for this one last chance to settle things between them, she knew that was a lie.
She’d wanted to spend this night, Drew’s last here in Liberty, in his bed. Wanted, more than anything, to feel the way she’d once felt when she’d been thoroughly, completely loved. The way only Drew had ever been able to love her.
Chapter 8
Celeste knew she was taking more time than usual getting herself ready for the day. It couldn’t be helped. She had an image in mind that she wanted Drew to carry with him when he left here. That of a polished, successful and contented woman who certainly wouldn’t mourn his departure. And why should she? She’d been carrying on for more than a year without him. And doing very well, thank you.
She practiced several smiles in the mirror. All of them looked fake. She sighed and pulled on a pale green jacket over the matching sheath, knowing it flattered her hair and coloring. She added a simple gold chain around her throat before slipping her feet into sensible pumps.
