Peter took the card and read it in a glance. “Ah, Angel. I knew her well. Send my regrets, please, Abbott?” He passed the invitation, round-robin, to the butler. “I’ve got to clean my aquarium that weekend.”
“You don’t have an aquarium,” Adam pointed out.
“I’ll get one, then.”
“Weren’t you and Ms. Merchant something of an item just a few months ago?” Adam tried to recollect the occasion. “I thought she was the blonde you had on your arm at the Winston’s holiday ball.”
“That was Samantha Herrmann,” Peter corrected. “Angel was my date for the Harvest Gala last October. I can see where you’d be confused, though. They’re both tall, blond and very lovely.”
An apt description of every woman Peter dated. While Bryce considered all women equally worthy of his attentions, Peter was more selective. He liked them tall, blond, lovely and privileged. Only blue-bloods need apply for the honor of appearing on Peter Braddock’s arm. “So,” Adam probed. “How is Samantha these days?”
“Couldn’t tell you, Adam.” Peter pulled a set of car keys from his pocket and gave them a casual toss. “Haven’t seen her since I took Miranda Danville to the Valentine’s Day benefit.”
“Another tall, lovely, blonde.” Adam sighed and pulled a couple of envelopes from the stack of mail before handing the rest to the butler. “Good thing the events planner I hired for Grandfather’s birthday is a spunky, little brunette.”
“Who’s to say the right brunette couldn’t change my mind about blondes in a heartbeat?”
“This brunette is off-limits. I don’t want you or Bryce distracting her from her work or filling her head with the idea she should take your flirtation seriously.”
Peter’s brows winged upward in surprise. “Well, well, well, Abbott, what do you make of this ultimatum? Sounds to me as if I’m being warned away from my big brother’s new amour.”
The word had a strange allure, but Adam ignored it to give his brother a warning look. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Sorry,” Peter said, although he didn’t sound as if he meant it. “How soon can I meet her?”
“Tomorrow. She’ll be staying at the Hall until after the party.”
Peter looked doubly surprised at this unprecedented happening. “Now that’s an intriguing setup.”
Adam wanted to explain that it was mere convenience and that there was no intrigue to it, but further explanation would only invite more, rather than less, speculation. Katie wasn’t Peter’s type. She wasn’t Bryce’s type, either, but that wouldn’t stop either brother from giving her the idea they’d each been waiting for her all their respective lives. “Isn’t it?” he countered. “And I’d appreciate it if you and Bryce would consider her off-limits.”
Peter’s brows went even higher, and his frank curiosity filled the sudden silence with a new speculation. Belatedly, Adam realized his offensive strategy might have unanticipated side effects. He was almost glad when the phone on the credenza rang and Abbott moved efficiently to answer it, breaking the tension and diverting Peter’s attention. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Adam,” Peter said. “Mayor Henry called earlier this afternoon. Also Belle Yeager and Jules Jackson. I think you’ve skirted the Christmas decoration issue only to find you’re knee-deep in bricks.” With a grin, he headed for the door. “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
“It’s Mayor Henry, sir.” Abbott looked to Adam for instruction. “Do you wish to take the call?”
Bricks? Adam thought as he nodded and motioned Abbott to transfer the call into his study. Whatever was brewing in the Sea Change cauldron wasn’t likely to improve his day. The Wallace deal seemed to be slipping through his fingers. And the news that James was bringing home yet another soon-to-be Mrs. Braddock filled Adam with an uncertain dread. There was no reason he should be anticipating tomorrow and the weeks leading up to his grandfather’s birthday with such unexpected pleasure.
No good reason, at all.
Chapter Six
Katie stepped into the large corner bedroom, thinking even Alice in Wonderland might have felt a little overwhelmed. The room, like the rest of the house, was gracious, luxuriously elegant and oversized, with ceilings so high even an NBA star would have to have a tall ladder to change a lightbulb. It was as lovely a bedroom as any Katie had ever slept in and easily ten times the size of the cubbyhole of a room she’d occupied during the eleven years she lived with her grandparents in Oklahoma. “Wow,” she said. “You could billet a whole Boy Scout troop in here.”
“There’s a great view of the gardens from this room.” Adam set her duffel and two bulging shopping bags on the floor. “And a pleasant cross-breeze in the evenings at this time of year.”
Katie walked to the window and looked out in an effort to hide the fact that she was as nervous and excited as a half-grown pup on a visit to a tree farm. Over the past twenty-four hours, she’d had long talks with herself and a couple of brief conversations with Ilsa Fairchild. By the time Benson arrived in the Rolls-Royce, Katie had her shoulders squared, her chin up and a can-do attitude tucked securely in her heart’s pocket. She’d been fine with the whole party-planning, see-what-life-is-like-inside-the-manor adventure…right up until the moment Adam had made a proprietary snatch of her duffel bag and staked some kind of claim by declaring to the butler and Ruth, the housekeeper, that he would personally escort her to her room. Which he’d done. “It is a beautiful view,” she said.
“When I was a boy, my grandmother would plan camp-outs in different rooms of the house. I think she wanted to be sure we knew our way around and wouldn’t get lost in our own home. This room was always one of her favorite campsites.”
“No campfires allowed, I take it?”
“We’re pretty careful with fires around here. The original Hall was built in 1834, but burned in 1870. It was promptly rebuilt, and burned again in 1915. When the house was rebuilt then, the fire retardant features were the best money could buy. Needless to say, they’ve been updated many times since. No point in taking chances.”
“What did you do on the camp-outs with your grandmother?”
His smile went soft with memory and caught at her heartstrings. “Learned about family history, the responsibilities of being born a Braddock, the duty of stewardship. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. Grandmother was a wonderful storyteller and I thought we were only having fun.”
“You and your brothers?”
“Just me, at first. Then Bryce arrived and joined us on the in-house excursions. By the time Peter came to live with us, though, I was long past the point of enjoying a camp-out.”
“Peter wasn’t born here?” she asked, surprised.
“My father was the last Braddock to be born here at the Hall. I was born in Boston, while my parents were students at Harvard. Bryce was born in Dublin, Peter in California.”
“Your mother must have liked to travel.”
“My mother died when I was born,” he said. “Bryce’s mother, I believe, is still living in Ireland. Peter’s mother died several years ago. You’ve probably read that much in the tabloids. From time to time, the whole story of our father’s many wives surfaces again. You’ll meet him…and his fiancée…at dinner this evening.”
Katie heard the undertones, knew this was a sore subject. “I’ll look forward to it. Does he live here?”
“Colorado. Braddock Industries owns several upscale shopping centers around the country and he heads up our management company there. He prefers to be closer to the mountains than the ocean.”
“I like mountains,” Katie said, turning again to the view out the window, mainly because he had such a startling effect on her ability to breathe in and out in a normal fashion. “I like the ocean, too. If I had to choose, though, I think I’d always want to be wherever there’s a garden.”
His steps were muffled by the thick, wool carpet, but she knew the moment he stopped a couple of feet behind her, felt an internal shift…as if her body leaned un
consciously toward him like a flower to the sun. “I’ve asked Abbott to set up a little office for you in the adjoining room. There should be a phone, fax, computer and a few other essential business items. If you need anything else, tell Abbott and he’ll get it for you.”
“I may need a guide to find my way downstairs again.” A giggle escaped her tight throat, a squeaky nervous sound. “Are all the bedrooms in this part of the house?”
“The seven bedrooms on this north ell are the guest suites. The eight bedrooms in the north ell are for the family and occasionally for guests, too.” He paused, seeming almost nervous, himself. “I thought you’d have fewer…distractions here.”
She would if he stayed out of her bedroom. “This is perfect,” she said, keeping her eyes on the garden because looking at him was dangerous. “The gardeners could prove distracting, though. What are they doing to that rhododendron?”
He stepped in closer to see the two men who were in the garden below, one of them bronzed and bare from the waist up, one of them in a broad-brimmed straw hat. “I don’t know, but the one in the hat is my grandfather. The other one is Peter.” There was an oddly awkward pause. “I can’t imagine why he’s taken off his shirt.”
“He must be hot.” Katie leaned forward in the window to get a better look at Adam’s youngest brother. “Or working on his tan.”
“It’s more likely he didn’t want to get his shirt dirty. Peter is something of a clotheshorse.”
“Hmm,” she murmured, wondering what it would take to get Adam to take off his shirt. “He should consider going without more often. He’s very nicely cut and buffed.”
“Cut and buffed?” Adam’s tone was suddenly frosty, but she didn’t know if it was because Peter wasn’t wearing his shirt or because she’d noticed.
“That’s girl talk for well-built.” She glanced over her shoulder and realized he, obviously, knew that already. “Your brother has a nice body,” she finished lamely.
The room temperature dropped ten degrees in a split-second. “I’m sure he’d be pleased to know you think so but, despite depriving you of a nice view, he should not be in plain sight of your window without a shirt.”
She blinked, baffled by his attitude. “Guess this is just my lucky day.”
“After tomorrow, I shouldn’t think you’ll have much time for distractions of any kind. Abbott will provide you with a guest list for the party first thing Monday morning. If you have any questions, ask my grandfather. He’s the one in the hat, in case you didn’t notice.” Adam was at the doorway almost before she had time to frown at the sharp rebuke in his voice.
She’d done nothing to merit this brusqueness and couldn’t let it go unchallenged. “I intend to ask him about the rhododendron first chance I get. On second thought, though, I may just go out there now and ask Peter, instead.”
That stopped him, brought him turning back toward her with a narrowed, somber look. “Ask Grandfather,” he said with much more authority than was necessary. “Cocktails are in the library at seven and we dress for dinner.”
“I never doubted it for a second.” She smiled winningly. “Although in your brother’s case, it does seem a shame.”
“Keep your focus on the birthday party, Ms. Canton. That’s the reason you’re here. I advise you not to forget it.” He spun on his heel and was out the door, closing it quietly and very firmly behind him.
Katie sagged against the windowsill and stared at the door. Perplexed didn’t begin to describe her state of mind. What on earth was wrong with the man? He’d invited her here, practically insisted she come, but from the moment she’d stepped through the front door, he’d behaved…well, like a nervous suitor. Anxious, eager, confiding, distant, brusque. And all within the space of the thirty minutes—max—she’d been in his house. Even now, his reaction to her perfectly harmless remark was way out of line, almost as if he were…jealous. But that was crazy. She hadn’t even met Peter yet. And why would Adam be jealous, anyway? He couldn’t be offended because she found his brothers attractive. That was silly. They were attractive. She’d have to be blind not to notice. He’d warned her not to take Bryce’s flirting serious. Maybe he was warning her about his younger brother, too. But there was no need to be so high-handed about it. Or maybe he was issuing a general warning to her not to get any ideas about her stay at Braddock Hall being anything but temporary.
Well, he was in for a surprise if he thought she was looking for anything permanent. And if she were, this was definitely the last place she’d look. He was definitely the last man she’d consider, too. Him, or his brothers. Shirts or no shirts. She looked back out at the garden, at the maze of spring flowers, the wide expanse of lawn, and at the thicket of forest beyond. Okay, so maybe this wouldn’t be the last place. And maybe Adam wouldn’t be the last man.
He was as unnerved by her presence in his home as she was by being in it. Possibilities were bouncing all over the place and just because Adam wanted to pretend they didn’t exist, didn’t mean she had to agree with him. The attraction was there. It was real…and she didn’t think it was just going to disappear because he was uncomfortable with it. As for herself, she’d still like to have his undivided attention for an hour or so…just for the experience. And if the opportunity arose—in more ways than one—she intended to carpe diem.
The gardener guys were out of her range of sight now, so with one last sympathetic smile for the now-uprooted and presumably soon-to-be-moved-toanother-location rhododendron, she went to look through the shopping bags. She’d gone on quite a spree yesterday. In leaving one place and heading toward another, she normally changed her wardrobe. She’d found it was more practical than toting winter clothes to Phoenix or dragging a sundress to Minnesota. When she was ready to leave an area, she donated her better clothing items to a woman’s shelter and bought what she needed once she arrived at her next destination. But yesterday, instead of shopping exclusively at the upscale resale stores she normally favored, she’d taken some money from her savings and purchased some brand new outfits. It was a small concession to the Braddocks’ affluency, but one she was already glad she’d made. However, if dressing for dinner was an everyday occurrence, she was probably going to need even more clothes. But too many, she believed, was as bad as too few and she did not like to be wasteful. After all, she was only going to be here a few weeks. So she’d just make do with what she’d brought, and should a fashion emergency arise, she’d follow Adam’s instructions and tell Abbott.
After all, she was here for the whole experience.
Wasn’t she?
SHE’D DRESSED FOR DINNER.
Adam felt his jaw go slack when Katie walked into the library. He imagined every other male in the room had the same reaction, although he couldn’t take his eyes off of her long enough to check. It would be downright un-American not to appreciate the red dress—what there was of it—and the narrow strip of white lace ribboned like a necklace around her throat. Her shoulders were bare except for the sheath’s tiny, spaghetti-thin straps. Not that the dress needed straps to hold it in place. It clung, not too tightly, but not loosely, either and there wasn’t an inch worth of slack in the fabric anywhere. His gaze took the path of least resistance, following the line downward to her legs which, he noted, were bare. And long. And lovely. And she was—to his astonishment—barefoot.
Adam didn’t know whether to take off his coat and wrap it around her shoulders or just stand back and admire her toe ring.
James, never at a loss when a beautiful woman made an entrance, was at her side in a heartbeat, introducing himself and offering to get her something to drink. Bryce, a real chip off the old block, put the drink—a wine spritzer—in her hand almost before the request was out of her mouth. Peter, never one to rush, wowed her first with a GQ smile and then moved forward to be introduced.
With little more effort than simply walking into the library, Katie bewitched them all. But with a commendable sense of timing, she allowed only a few moments to pass b
efore she turned her attention to Archer. As the family patriarch, he deserved the deference of her greeting and the honor of her conversation. His own greeting was warm, welcoming and eager, his eyes brightening at the sight of her. Adam’s doubts about the wisdom of having Katie at the Hall lessened. But only a little.
By the time Monica, a petite brunette, arrived on the scene, her thunder had already been stolen. Her perfectly proper black dress seemed lackluster and dowdy next to Katie’s simplicity of style and vibrant color. The sparkle of diamond drops around her neck and on her earlobes looked gaudy contrasted with the ingenuity of Katie’s lace adornment. There wasn’t anything natural about the dark shade of hosiery Monica wore on her legs, either. Even her strappy, three-inch high heels looked overdone and pretentious. By the time James greeted his fiancée with a kiss and introduced her to Katie, it was clear to Adam that Monica was not a happy camper.
“Couldn’t decide which shoes to wear, Katie?” Monica asked in a thick, syrupy accent. “James is all the time teasing me about having so many pairs it takes me a month to choose which ones to wear.” She smiled up into his handsome face. “I think it would serve him right if I followed your example and didn’t wear any at all, don’t you?”
Katie looked down at her bare feet and brought her gaze up with a self-deprecatory laugh. “I didn’t think my Birkenstock sandals did much for the outfit, and my Old Maine Trotter deck shoes looked even worse, so this isn’t so much a choice as the lesser of the evils.”
“You surely didn’t bring only two pair of shoes?”
There was a pause. “I surely did,” Katie said, proving she could hold her own against a Southern accent. “In fact, I only own two pair of shoes. Imagine that.”
Monica clearly couldn’t. “You don’t mean it. I never knew any woman who didn’t have at least a dozen pair.”
The C.E.O.'s Unplanned Proposal Page 12
