by Ruth Langan
“Yeah. But do you like it?”
She sipped again. Swallowed. Then nodded. “It’s really smooth. Very light.” She nodded. “I like it a lot.”
He smiled. “I thought you would. It’s a new German import.” Taking a pull from the bottle he looked around. “This is nice. It looks like you.”
“Thanks. I haven’t had much time to decorate. I wanted to concentrate on the rest of the inn, so I’ve kept my space simple.”
“Simple?” He smiled as he wandered the room that looked as if it had been professionally decorated down to the smallest detail. “I remember these. Your grandmother’s crystal candlesticks.”
Celeste nodded. “I like looking at them. I’ve always been so glad she wanted me to have them.”
He stood back to study the art on the walls. A pleasing mix of soft watercolors and bold contemporaries. There was even a European country scene by an artist who commanded a fortune for his work. “You’ve added to your collection.”
She laughed softly. “You’re the only one who would notice. Do you like it?”
“Yeah. And I like this.” He touched a hand to the bronze bust of a little girl resting atop a carved Oriental chest.
“My mother gave it to me. She said I ought to have it, since I was the model when she cast it about twenty-five years ago.”
He studied it more carefully before lifting his head. “Now that you’ve said that, I recognize those laughing eyes and that stubborn little chin.”
“Not to mention the Sullivan nose,” she said with a laugh.
He caught her chin and studied her profile. And had to absorb a quick flash of heat for his effort. “I’ve always liked that turned-up nose.”
“Even when I stick it in someone else’s business?”
“Absolutely.” He bent close and rubbed the tip of his nose over hers. “As long as it’s not my business.”
He stepped back and gave her an admiring look that had the heat rising to her cheeks. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. I like your idea of casual.”
She was wearing yellow shorts and a stretchy little cropped top in pale lemon yellow. He found the drape of the fabric extremely sexy, especially since it seemed to emphasize every line and curve of her body. On her feet were matching sandals. He glanced down at her carefully manicured bare toes peeking out. “Do you remember the time I gave you a pedicure?”
“Umm.” She pursed her lips. How could she forget? He’d done it on a dare. And it had turned into one of the most purely sensual things they’d ever done, outside of making love. She shivered, still able to recall the feel of his hands on her toes, her feet, her legs.
She knew he was remembering, too. It was impossible to ignore the wolfish look on his face. She was grateful for the knock on the door.
She turned away a little too quickly. “Here’s our dinner.”
“And just in time, wouldn’t you say?”
She laughed, knowing he’d been much too aware of her discomfort. “Yes. I would.”
She hurried over to hold the door while a waiter wheeled in a serving cart.
“Good evening, Ms. Sullivan. Mr. Hampton.”
“Hello, Billy.” Celeste greeted him with a warm smile. “You can just wheel it over to the French doors and leave it. We’ll serve ourselves.”
Drew handed him a tip as he was leaving. When he turned Celeste was already removing covered trays and carrying them to a small glass table on the balcony.
Drew stepped out and breathed in the warm night air. Unlike his balcony that overlooked the courtyard, hers had a view of the entire town of Liberty. Colorful roofs and church spires looked postcard perfect in the moonlight. Streetlights spilled warm yellow puddles into the darkness. Lights in windows winked and flickered, making it look, from this vantage point, like a fairy-tale village.
“This is wonderful.” He topped off her glass, before opening a second bottle for himself. He stood at the railing and studied the scene. “I can see why you love it here.”
“Can you?” Her eyes glowed in the light of the hurricane candles as she held a match to them before replacing the domes.
“Yeah.” He watched her step closer until she was standing beside him.
Her voice was hushed as she looked at the scene spread before them. “I’ve tried to explain it to my parents, but they just don’t understand.”
He turned to her, leaning a hip against the railing. “Have they been here?”
She nodded. “And they declared it a lovely, quaint little place. But I could see that they had no idea why I would ever want to spend any more time here than necessary.”
“And do you? Want to spend more time here?”
“I…don’t know what I want. I’ve been here a year. That ought to be enough. But I have the feeling that the Old Liberty Tavern hasn’t even come close to its potential yet. I just keep thinking that there’s so much more that could be done here.”
He studied her eyes, seeing a wistful look in them. “How about your grandfather? What does he think?”
She shrugged. “Grandpa Sully understands. He’s always had a special fondness for New Hampshire. Even though he spends most of his time in Europe, he always used to come here once a year to get away from the business.”
“Yeah.” Drew nodded. “The fishing lodge at Snug Harbor. I’ve been there.”
“I’d forgotten that.” She looked up to see him watching her. “You and Grandpa Sully flew there shortly before you left to join Van Dorn.” There it was again. That quick flash of pain at the memory of his abrupt departure from the company and from her life. “Anyway, it was Grandpa Sully who suggested I come here and try to, as he called it, weave my magic on this poor failing little place.”
“A smart man, your grandfather. And he was right to call it magic. I’ve had a chance to review the before-and-after profit-and-loss statements. No one but a magician could have saved this failing old tavern. You’ve done an amazing job here.”
She flushed with pleasure at his words. But then, she’d always loved the fact that he shared her love of, and pride in, the business of innkeeping. It was a bond she’d never been able to share with any other man.
Seeing the way she paused, staring into the distance, he inclined his head toward the covered tray. “Are you going to feed me or just torment me with that mouth-watering smell of grilled onions?”
She laughed. “If I weren’t so hungry, I’d make you wait until you were begging. But the truth is, I can’t stand waiting either. Come on.”
He took a seat and she lifted the lid to reveal two huge, perfectly broiled hamburgers still sizzling on a heated tray, and smothered in mushrooms, onions and green pepper.
Drew arched a brow. “Do you think they’re big enough?”
She couldn’t help laughing harder. “I guess Marcus thought we’d be starving.”
“Either that, or you told him you wanted burgers as big as Rhode Island.”
She lifted another lid to reveal a plate heaped with thick steak fries. “I believe I’m going to see that Marcus gets a bonus in his next paycheck.”
“A fine idea.” Drew helped himself to a fry and closed his eyes. “The man is a kitchen god.”
“I thought you might approve. I figure, with all that around-the-world traveling you do, you probably yearn for some good old American food now and then.”
“You know me a little too well.”
Again that flush before she took a bite of her burger. She gave a sigh of pleasure. “Oh, this may be worth a double bonus to Marcus.”
Seeing the way she was enjoying her food, Drew followed suit.
“This may be,” he said between bites, “the best burger I’ve ever tasted.”
“Are you often given to these little bouts of exaggeration?”
“Not often.” He polished off several more fries and washed them down with beer. “How’s yours? Just average?”
“Quiet.” She chewed, swallowed, then whispered, “I’m about to go into rapture.”
They were both grinning like fools as they devoured the rest of their meal, then sat back sipping beer.
“I could learn to love this.” Drew stretched out his long legs and looked out over the sleepy little town.
“It is peaceful, isn’t it?” Celeste tucked her feet up under her and leaned back, breathing in the soft summer scents.
Drew took the time to look around. Even this small balcony bore the distinct imprint of Celeste’s exquisite taste. A huge pot of white roses stood in one corner, twining their way up a lovely old trellis attached to the brick wall. Colorful planters of pink petunias and trailing ivy sat atop the railing. A statue of a girl holding a bird in her hands was actually a small fountain. The sound of running water was a soothing balm.
Out in the courtyard the musicians started another set of show tunes. The muted notes drifted upward to mingle with the sound of softly falling water.
Drew gave her a long, contemplative look. “You’ve made a fabulous home for yourself here.”
“Thanks.”
“Tell me about the winter. Were you buried in snow?”
She laughed. “You know that little village in the Alps where we went skiing?”
He nodded.
“It can’t hold a candle to the snow around here.”
“Did you find time to ski?”
“Not often. But I did a little skiing. We have some pretty impressive runs on the mountain.”
He smiled. “I heard you describing the setting to that young couple getting married. It sounded like paradise. I was trying to picture myself sipping hot mulled wine by an open fire, and watching skaters out on the pond. That was quite a scene you painted.”
Suddenly restless under his gaze, Celeste uncoiled from the chair. “Coffee?”
“Sure.” He stood. “I’ll get the cups if you’ll tell me where you keep them.”
They stepped inside and she pointed toward a cupboard. “Up there.”
He retrieved cups and saucers while she filled a carafe and carried it to the table. While she poured, he began humming to the music of “Some Enchanted Evening.”
When she turned he was standing in front of her, arms open wide. “May I have this dance, miss?”
With a laugh she stepped closer and began to move with him. She knew at once it was a mistake, but there seemed no graceful way to step back. Those strong arms were already gathering her against him. Her body was already reacting to his. As his arms tightened around her she felt an old familiar ache. When he pressed his lips to her temple she felt heat begin to build, a slow, pulsing tide through her veins. And then they were moving in the dance, their bodies barely brushing.
“We were always good together, Lessie.” The words, spoken against her cheek, sent sparks dancing along her spine.
He knew just how to soften her up. The use of that nickname did things to her heart that she was unable to control. “We were always too good, Drew. That was the problem.”
He looked down at her. “I don’t recall it ever being a problem.”
“Then you have a…selective memory.” She struggled to ignore the warmth of his breath whispering across her face. “Every time we came together we set off fireworks.”
He shot her a devilish grin. “Are you saying that’s wrong?”
“Of course not. But instead of…going up in flames, we should have been cooling things down. Talking more. Sharing our minds along with our bodies.”
“Oh. I see. It’s my mind you really wanted.” The corners of his lips curved, though he tried not to laugh. “And all this time I thought it was my body that turned you on.”
“I love your body, Drew. You know I always have.”
“That’s a relief. I’d hate to find out that you’d been faking it. Especially since…” He stopped swaying to the music as he lowered his face to hers. “…I’ve never been able to forget about yours.”
“Drew. Don’t…”
He swallowed her protest with a kiss so hot, so hungry, they were both rocked by it.
She’d thought she could resist. She’d prepared herself for every possibility. The sweet words. The burning looks. The sizzling touches. But the moment his mouth covered hers, she was swamped by so many emotions, she felt helpless to fight.
Until now she’d been able to feel him holding back. Reluctant to take her where she didn’t choose to go. Giving her time to step back. But this time was different. He poured everything into this kiss. A kiss that drained her even while it filled her. A kiss that demanded all, and then even more, until there was nothing more to give. A kiss that was bold, possessive, and at the same time so generous. So giving. So like Drew, it made her want to weep.
He took the kiss deeper. It spoke of such deep hunger. Of a need so wild, so primitive, it frightened her.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. All she could do was hold on as his mouth plundered hers. She absorbed a series of quick jittery jolts to the system as his mouth began to move almost savagely over hers.
Hadn’t she known this would happen if they were alone? Yet, even knowing, she’d invited him in. Had foolishly opened the door to the wolf waiting to devour her.
Because she’d wanted this as much as he did. There was no denying the truth. From the moment she’d seen Drew Hampton that first morning in her office, she’d wanted this. And everything leading up to this moment had merely been a dance. A lover’s dance, designed to soothe the fears, calm the nerves and leave her without defenses when he finally stormed the gates.
She sighed as he changed the angle of the kiss. She could feel her blood heating by degrees, her bones melting. Could feel her heartbeat pounding in her temples. Could feel her breathing growing more ragged, as his hands, those big, clever hands that knew her body so intimately, began moving over her.
She was so tired of fighting. Wasn’t this what they both wanted? Still, somewhere in the back of her mind was that nagging voice of reason. They’d traveled this path before, and it had ended in disaster. She’d given in to the demands of her heart, only to have it trampled and left in the dust. How many times did she have to be hurt before she learned her lesson?
“Drew. Wait.”
He was almost beyond hearing. His blood was so hot he could feel himself close to meltdown. The need for her was so great he was trembling. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.” He ran hot wet kisses down her throat.
“Listen to me.” She pushed ineffectively against his chest, but all that did was inflame him more. “We need to think, Drew.”
“I’m tired of thinking. Come on, Lessie. Let’s just do what feels good. You know you want this, too.” He plunged his hands into her hair and tipped her face up for his kiss.
“I do. That’s the trouble.”
He heard the slight change in her voice and recognized it. She was close to tears. He felt the slight trembling of her lips on his and drew back.
His eyes narrowed on hers. “If you want what I want, what’s the problem?”
“Us, Drew. We’re the problem. We’ve already been through this. And it solved nothing. I don’t think I could go through it again. I couldn’t bear to make love with you tonight and say goodbye to you tomorrow.”
“That’s the way our lives are. In fact, you told me a thousand times or more that you didn’t want to put down roots. You’d feel hemmed in by tradition. It was you who wanted the freedom to wander the world. To taste every food, drink every wine, learn every language and live your life exactly as your parents and grandparents had. Without strings, you said. You told me you liked it that way, Lessie.”
“I did like things that way once upon a time.” She couldn’t stop the trembling in her voice. “But I…don’t know anymore. Help me here, Drew. Help me think this through.”
“Sorry. I don’t do my best thinking when I’m holding you in my arms.” He gave a shaky laugh and touched a fingertip to her face. Just a touch, before lowering his hand to his side. “Hell, I don’t know the answer. I quit trying to f
igure things out a long time ago. I’ve given up on thinking. All it does is make things worse.”
He took a step back and she felt a sudden chill. “You know what I want, Lessie. You. Just you. That’s never changed. But maybe I’m not enough for you. Maybe I never was. If that’s the case, it’s better to say so now. It’ll hurt. But then, we’ve hurt each other before. I’ll leave it up to you. The choice has to be yours.”
She closed her eyes against the pain. She wanted, more than anything, to beg him to take her. Here. Now. Before she had time to think. To reason. To remember. To resist. But wasn’t that what she always did? Pick things apart until she’d reasoned them to death?
In the silence that followed he nodded before muttering, “I see.”
Just two words. But there was such finality in them. His eyes went flat. As flat as the tone of his voice, before he turned away.
Celeste watched as he crossed the balcony and stepped through the open doorway into her room. She felt as if she were choking. Her throat was clogged with unshed tears. She ran a tongue over her lips, wondering if she could manage a single word.
“Drew.” She swallowed. Tried again. “Wait.”
He never heard her as he stalked across the room and tore open the door to her room. She watched as he walked out and slammed the door behind him.
The sound seemed to reverberate through her suite, blotting out the music. Blotting out even the sound of the fountain, until all she could hear was the echo of the slamming door. And his footsteps as he crossed to his own room.
And then the only sound was her breathing, shallow and uneven, as she struggled not to give in to the tears that threatened.
Chapter 10
Drew walked across the room running his hands wearily over his face. How many times did he have to be stabbed in the heart before he learned his lesson? What had he been thinking, coming to Liberty like a lovesick fool? It may have started out as strictly business, but he’d begun to foster the belief that once Celeste saw him again, she would remember what they’d once had, and try to rekindle that old flame.
He’d forgotten what a hardheaded little realist she was. No soft lights and gentle seductions for Celeste Sullivan. She was on a mission to save the Sullivan empire. Single-handedly if necessary. There was no time for distractions. Certainly no time for love. She was a no-nonsense, down-to-business, thoroughly modern woman. It was something he’d always found so enticing about her. But right now he was fed up with ambition and corporate politics.
