by Linda Turner
Considering the circumstances, no one would have blamed her if she’d slept late the next morning, but she didn’t shirk her duties so easily. Not long after dawn, the scent of fresh-baked bread drifted through the house, quietly waking him and the other guests one by one.
And though Taylor half expected to find her bleary-eyed and tired, he should have known better. Dressed in a soft white blouse and a feminine yellow skirt with a little frill at the hem, she looked rested and relaxed and incredibly beautiful. She greeted the Coopers and Winstons with an easy smile and pastries that would have done a gourmet chef proud. Just looking at her, no one would have guessed that she’d only had a few hours sleep.
She was amazing, Taylor thought, and was glad he wasn’t the only one who appreciated her. Biting into a raspberry Danish, Doris closed her eyes and sighed dreamily. “Oh, that’s so good! I don’t know how you do it, Phoebe, dear. I could never have made this kind of breakfast after only three hours’ sleep. You have to be exhausted!”
Grinning, Phoebe shrugged. “I’ll admit my brain’s not operating on all cylinders, but I’m okay. I can catch up on my sleep later. I wanted to make sure that all of you had a good breakfast before you left.”
“This is better than good,” Lawrence assured her, popping another Danish into his mouth. “It’s fantastic! I bet I gained five pounds this weekend.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she replied with twinkling eyes.
“Oh, we more than enjoyed it,” Lawrence said. “We’re going to tell all our friends about this place. We’ve had a wonderful time.”
“We have, too,” Heather Winston said shyly as she and her husband exchanged a loving smile. “My parents are celebrating their twenty-fifth anniversary in September. I’m going to tell them to come here. They’ll love it.”
“We’d love to have them,” Phoebe said, pleased. “I probably won’t be here then—I’ve got to go back to my real job, unfortunately—but my grandmother will. I’m sure your parents will love her. She’ll make them feel right at home.”
“The question is…how good a cook is she?” Lawrence asked with a teasing grin. “If she can’t make Danish like you can, there’s no point in coming.”
“She taught me everything I know about cooking and baking,” Phoebe assure him. “That’s one of the reasons she asked me to take over for her while she was on vacation. I’m the only one she knows who can cook like she does.”
“You’re also her granddaughter and she trusts you with everything she owns,” Doris said. “Not to mention the fact that she must love you dearly.”
Unable to argue with that logic, Phoebe flashed her dimples at her. “I’m her favorite granddaughter.”
“And her only one, I’ll bet,” Taylor added teasingly.
“That has nothing to do with anything,” she tossed back, grinning. “I’d be her favorite if she had a dozen granddaughters. We’re very much alike.”
“Then I’m sure she’s a wonderful person,” Doris said with a smile. “She certainly has a fantastic house. I wish we could stay longer, but Lawrence has a dentist’s appointment tomorrow, so we’ve got to get back.”
“We do, too,” Peter Winston said. “We’ve both got to go back to work tomorrow, and we don’t want to get home late. It’s a six-hour drive, so we’d better get going.”
That’s just what Taylor had been waiting to hear. Rising quickly to his feet, he said, “I’ll help you carry your luggage out.”
Fifteen minutes later, the newlyweds said their goodbyes, traded hugs as if they were all family and drove away. Feeling as though she was walking on air, Phoebe couldn’t stop smiling. In spite of the near disaster last night with the broken pipe, the weekend had turned out to be amazingly successful. And the Coopers and Winstons were going to tell all their friends and family what a wonderful time they’d had. There was no better advertising than word of mouth!
Thrilled, Phoebe couldn’t wait to tell her grandmother. They were a hit! But the second Taylor followed her back inside the house and shut the front door, she threw herself into his arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Laughing, he pulled her close. “For what?”
“All your help, of course!”
“But you were the one who did all the work,” he pointed out. “And last night, you were incredible. All I did was call the plumber—”
“And turn the water off and move the furniture and help me get the rug up,” she finished for him. “I’m sure I would have panicked if you hadn’t kept your head the way you had. I could just see the Coopers telling all their friends that the place had leaky old pipes and they’d be taking their lives in their hands if they went anywhere near it.”
“Are you kidding? That was never going to happen. They were crazy about you. And nobody blamed you for the pipe breaking. It could have happened to anyone.”
“Maybe,” she acknowledged. “But you still were a big help all weekend. Except for the pipe breaking, everything was perfect…because every time I turned around, you were there to help me. Thank you.” Giving into impulse, she rose up on tiptoe and kissed him sweetly on the lips.
How long had he been waiting for just such a moment? Taylor had long since lost track. He just knew he had to have her…now! Burying his hands in her hair, he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her as though he was starving for the taste of her. Then, before she could do anything but gasp, he swept her up in his arms and started up the stairs.
“Taylor! What are you doing?”
“Carrying you up to bed,” he said promptly. “We’re both a little late for the date we made last night, but better late than never.”
“But it’s not even ten o’clock in the morning!” she protested.
“So? What has that got to do with anything?”
When he put it that way and gave her that dark, hungry look that always made her go weak at the knees, there was no way she could resist him. “Not a damn thing,” she replied, then laughed and threw her arms around his neck. “I like the way you think, Mr. Bishop.”
“So do I,” he retorted with a grin as he reached the second floor and turned down the hall to her room. “Now, Ms. Chandler, I believe you mentioned last night that you were going to wear something special for our date. How long will it take you to get ready?”
She didn’t even have to think about it. “Two minutes.”
Setting her on her feet just outside her grandmother’s room, where her things still were, he grinned. “The clock’s ticking.”
He would have given her more time if she’d asked for it, and if they’d been able to keep their date last night as planned, she certainly would have taken more than two minutes to get ready, but it seemed as if it had been ages since they’d had any time alone together, and even longer than that since he’d made love to her. Suddenly, all she wanted was to be with him, but she had promised to wear something special. “I’ll meet you in your room,” she promised huskily, and shut the door in his face.
Alone in his room, Taylor didn’t need to set the mood for himself—he’d dreamed of her, reached for her in the night more times than he could remember—but making love with her wasn’t just about him. No woman had ever captivated him the way she had, and he needed to show her that. So he hurried down the hall to the closet where he knew supplies for the inn were stored, then rushed back to his room.
Five minutes later, when she knocked at his door, he was ready for her. When he opened the door, he felt his heart stop in his chest. He’d seen her in dozens of different situations: lying on a sleeping bag under the stars in the mountains, baking in the kitchen, her cheeks dusted with flour, and then there was that night she had stepped into the hall still damp from her bath and dressed for bed. She’d stolen his breath every time. That didn’t begin to describe what she did to him today.
Dressed in a cream-colored antique satin gown, her blond hair falling in a golden wave past her shoulders, she looked as if she’d just stepped out of a dream from the pas
t. Every beautiful inch of her was covered. The full sleeves of her gown were gathered at her slender wrists, spilling lace onto her hands, and the long skirt just brushed her bare toes. The bodice was made of lace, but here, too, every sweet inch of her was covered, all the way to her throat.
She looked incredibly beautiful, incredibly feminine, incredibly sexy. Taylor took one look at her and forgot his own name. “My God, you’re gorgeous!”
A shy smile curled the corners of her mouth. “Thank you. I thought you might appreciate it.”
“Sweetheart, that’s an understatement,” he said hoarsely, and reached for her.
She melted into his arms and only then noticed the changes he had made to the room. “Oh, Taylor! It’s beautiful!”
He grinned ruefully. “I sort of raided your supply closet. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind?” she said incredulously. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.” Glancing past him again, tears pooled in her eyes at the sight of the dozens of candles that cast a soft romantic glow over the room in spite of the fact that the late-morning sun streamed through the windows. “It’s beautiful,” she said again, this time in a husky whisper.
“Don’t cry,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss away the tears that spilled over her lashes and trailed down her cheek. “I just wanted to make you smile.”
That did make her smile, and that was his undoing. Groaning, he swept her up in his arms and carried her to his bed, where he gently laid her down on the turned-back covers. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he asked as he came down beside her and once again took her into his arms. “Ever since—”
“—we made love under the stars in the mountains,” she finished for him. “I have, too.”
She made the simple admission softly, huskily, honestly and had no idea how she destroyed him. The ache inside him tightening, he leaned closer and eliminated the distance between them with a kiss. There was no more need for words.
Outside, a dog barked down the street, and on the two-lane highway that cut through town, the sudden screech of brakes drew the attention of other drivers. Phoebe never noticed. Every thought, every nerve ending, every fiber of her being was focused on Taylor and a soft whisper of a kiss that teased and seduced and went on and on and on.
Her thoughts blurring and her breath catching on a moan as his hands slid slowly over her, rubbing the satin and lace of her gown against her bare skin, she moved against him, aching for more. “Taylor…”
“Easy,” he murmured huskily, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of her neck. “There’s no one here but you and me. We have all day.”
Heaven. With a few simple words, he’d offered her heaven. Ever since the moment they’d first made love, it seemed as though they’d been looking over their shoulders. On the camping trip into the mountains, the McBrides had almost always been nearby, then when they’d returned home, it was the neighbors and even the guests they’d had to worry about surprising them. But the guests were all gone, the house was quiet, and she hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed to be alone with him until now.
Settling against him, she tangled her legs with his and drew him close for a slow, lingering kiss that was sweet and hot and oh, so intimate. “How’s that?” she breathed when she finally drew back far enough to give him a sultry smile. “Slow enough for you?”
“Perfect,” he assured her thickly. “Do it again.”
He didn’t have to ask her a second time. Delighted by the taste of him, the feel of his lean, hard body against hers, his hands caressing her with gentle, sure strokes that were guaranteed to drive her crazy, she couldn’t seem to stop kissing him. Pushing him onto his back, she rolled over onto him and trailed kisses across his freshly shaved cheek to his ear, making him shiver in pleasure.
Caught up in the pleasure of having her way with him, she would have sworn she was the one seducing him, but suddenly he was the one kissing her, teasing her with nibbling little kisses, cupping her breasts in his hands, playing with her, making her moan. And she loved it.
She loved him.
The thought slipped past her defenses, stunning her, but before she could even begin to come to terms with it, he reached for the hem of her gown and slowly drew it up her body and over her head. With a will of their own, her hands went to the buttons of his shirt and unbuttoned them with agonizing slowness.
She loved him. The thought whispered through her head again like the soft summer breeze that whispered through the open window, and the need to tell him, to share the joy and wonder that filled her, was almost more than she could bear. But she couldn’t say a word. Not yet. Not when he hadn’t even hinted at his own feelings. Marshall told her he loved her after she’d confessed her own deepening feelings for him, then ruined everything by asking her to loan him money. Taylor had shown no interest in her money, thank God, but she couldn’t risk having her heart thrown back in her face a second time…not until he’d at least hinted that he felt the same way.
So she kept her love to herself, but it wasn’t easy. Every time he touched her, every time he kissed her, every time he made her moan, all she could think of was that she loved him. And when he rolled her under him and tenderly eased into her, those three magical little words became a chant in her head. I love you. I love you. I love you. But all she said was his name, over and over and over again. “Taylor…Taylor… Taylor….”
Something was wrong. Taylor couldn’t put a name to it, but he wasn’t a dense man. And something had changed between him and Phoebe ever since they’d made love that morning. Oh, her response had been everything that he could have wanted, and she’d held nothing back then, or later, after lunch, when they’d made love again. But something wasn’t quite right, and it was driving him crazy.
Changing a lightbulb for her in the entry hall, he stood on a ten-foot ladder and scowled at the sound of her humming in the kitchen as she cooked dinner for the two of them. She sounded happy enough, but he didn’t fool himself into thinking her current mood had anything to do with him. She loved to cook and generally hummed to herself whenever she was in the kitchen. She’d stop soon enough if he joined her.
“So ask her what’s wrong,” he grumbled out loud to himself. “You’re never going to know if you don’t ask.”
Caught up in his conversation with himself, he didn’t notice that there was a visitor at the front door until there was a perfunctory knock. An older woman pulled open the screen door and stepped inside. “Oh, hello,” she began, catching sight of him on the ladder. “I—”
Whatever she was going to say next was lost as she suddenly froze, her eyes widening as they locked with his in the shadowy afternoon light of the hall. Every ounce of blood drained from her face. “Gus!” she whispered in horror, and passed out cold.
Chapter 10
Bending over to check the chicken she was baking in the oven, Phoebe straightened abruptly at the sound of something falling in the front entry. Images flashed through her head of Taylor, up on the ladder, reaching for the burned-out bulb in the old-fashioned hanging brass fixture and losing his balance. With no effort whatsoever, she could see him falling ten feet to the floor below. Alarmed, her heart stopped in her breast.
“Taylor?”
Her only answer was silence, and that scared the hell out of her. Slamming the oven door, she ran toward the front of the house. “Taylor? What was that noise? Are you all right?”
Sick with fear when he still didn’t answer, she burst into the entry hall, only to find Taylor down on his knees on the floor, bending over a woman who lay unconscious on the floor just inside the front door. “Oh, my God!” she cried, horrified as she rushed forward to help. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. She walked in, took one look at me and passed out.”
Dropping to her knees beside him, Phoebe reached for the unconscious woman’s hand to feel for a pulse, only to gasp as she finally got a good look at her. “It’s Sara McBride! I mean…M
ichaels. Joe and Zeke’s mother,” she explained, when he looked up sharply. “I thought she was still on her honeymoon.”
Worried, she leaned over Sara and patted her gently on the cheek. “Sara? Are you okay? C’mon, wake up. Don’t make me call an ambulance. Think of what that would do to Zeke and Joe and the girls. And Dr. Michaels—he’d be worried sick about you. You don’t want that.”
For a moment, Phoebe thought Sara wasn’t going to respond and she’d be forced to call Dr. Michaels and all four of the McBride children, but something she said must have finally gotten through to the older woman. Moaning, Sara frowned and pressed a hand to her head. When her eyes slowly fluttered open, they were dark with confusion.
“Thank God!” Phoebe breathed in relief. “Are you all right? Did you hit your head?”
Still dazed, the older woman frowned up at her in confusion. “Phoebe…what happened?”
Smiling reassuringly down at her, Phoebe took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly. “I was going to ask you the same thing. I heard a thump and ran in here to find you passed out cold on the floor. Are you hurt? Can you sit up? Maybe I should call Dr. Michaels or the kids. You’re awfully pale.”
“No,” Sara said weakly, closing her eyes. “Please…don’t. There’s no need to worry them. I’m fine—just a little light-headed. I shouldn’t have skipped lunch. Just give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe some hot tea would help,” Taylor suggested gruffly. “My mother used to say there was nothing like hot tea to get a person back on their feet.”
At his first words, Sara’s eyes flew open and, for the first time, she noticed the man kneeling at Phoebe’s side. Her heart stopped dead at the sight of him. “Oh, my God!”
“It’s okay,” Phoebe assured her when she struggled to sit up. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. This is Taylor Bishop. He was putting a lightbulb in the chandelier when you passed out.”
