She didn’t wait for him to decide, but wriggled out from under him and stood. Taking a swift step backward, she evaded the arm he shot out to snag her. She crossed to a nearby chair and lifted one foot onto the seat. Deliberately taking her time, she released her stocking from her garter and rolled it down her leg. A low groan emanated from the direction of the bed. She turned her attention to the next stocking before removing the garter altogether and draping the various pieces of sheer femininity over the back of the chair.
“Come to bed and let me finish that,” Alex demanded.
“Don’t get up,” she insisted with mock solicitousness. “I’ll take care of it.”
One by one, she lowered the spaghetti straps of her bra, which seemed to drift of their own accord down her arm. Then she released the catch at her back and inch by excruciating inch allowed the lacy scrap to fall free. Alex released a harsh exclamation and exploded from the bed. In one swift move, he had her off her feet and falling through the air onto the mattress.
Sunlight stroked her skin, and then it was Alex stroking it. Her. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, reveling in a touch that combined tenderness with a tormenting aggression. He cupped her breasts and then took possession of them with lips and teeth and tongue. She arched beneath him, wanting more. And he gave it to her.
His hands plied across the softness of her belly to the final triangle of silk still covering her. She felt the delicate waistband snap and the next instant, the silk had been torn away, leaving her completely open to both his gaze and possession.
Sunlight danced along the auburn nest protecting the heated core of her. Murmuring in Spanish, he slid his splayed fingers into the curls, arousing her even further with a probing touch. Ever so carefully he spread her, teased her to the very brink. She clung to her sanity just long enough to rip open the foil packet he’d given her earlier and slip the contents over him. And then he was breaching her, sliding inward with a single, deep thrust.
“Alex!”
“I’m right here, dulzura.” His breath escaped in a hot gust. “I’m with you all the way.”
She closed her arms and legs around his powerful form and clung to him, rode with him, melded with him. The sunlight around them intensified, so bright it blinded her to all but the man within her arms. He became her everything, filled her with all that he was. And she gave up to him, surrendering every bit of what she felt within her heart and body, until there was no more to give.
And in that final moment of climax, they became one, no longer separated by the past, but joined by it. Until that instant she’d truly believed that their connection had ended a long time ago. But as she tumbled toward bliss, Rebecca realized that the love she’d felt for Alex had never truly died. It had simply waited dormant for this time and this place and this man to rise again, like a phoenix from the ashes. The love she felt for him hadn’t gone away.
And in that incandescent moment, she realized it never would.
She didn’t know how long they slept. It was dark when she awoke, disoriented. She no longer lay in Alex’s arms, though the warmth from his body lingered, indicating he’d only recently left her. From the depths of the room she caught the quiet movements as he gathered his clothing.
“Alex?” she murmured.
“Go back to sleep, Rebecca.”
The formality dismayed her. He’d called her Rebecca. Not dulzura. Not even Becca. He’d thought she’d be the one with regrets the morning after. It would seem that he’d beaten her to it, and it wasn’t even morning yet. She lifted onto one elbow.
“Are you all right?” she asked gently.
He froze, then released a sound that was part sigh and part laugh. “I believe that should be my line.”
“Probably,” she conceded. “But I’m not the one sneaking out.”
“I wasn’t sneaking,” he instantly denied. “I was trying not to wake you. There’s a difference.”
“Mmm. Only a man could come up with that sort of distinction.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “You’re sorry this happened, aren’t you?”
She caught the shadow of his head turning in her direction. “Aren’t you?”
She considered for a brief moment. “I’m sorry that I’ve become a cliché,” she admitted. “But I’m not sorry we made love.”
“And only a woman could make that distinction.”
“Probably.” She released her breath in a sigh. “Would you prefer we pretend this didn’t happen?”
She sensed his sudden stillness. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, I’m not.”
She wrapped the sheet around herself and switched on the bedside lamp. A soft pool of light enveloped her. Dragging the sheet from the bed, she stood and faced Alex. To her disappointment, he regarded her with a wary, remote gaze. Where was the man who’d shared her bed, who’d made love to her with such intense passion? Long gone, apparently.
“Look…” Alex ran a hand through his already rumpled hair. “It happened. We’re both adults. We’ve been here before.”
“And will again?” she dared to ask.
He shook his head a bit too promptly. “There’s too much between us, Becca. It wouldn’t be wise.”
Well, at least he was calling her Becca now. A slight improvement. “In case you hadn’t noticed, wisdom isn’t my strong suit.”
“We can’t go back.”
He made the statement with such gentleness that tears pricked her eyes. “I’m aware of that. I was actually thinking of moving forward. You know.” She lifted her shoulder in a shrug, catching the sheet before it could slip to the floor. “We’re at a crossroads and all that. We can’t go back, but we can go forward. It’s how we move forward that’s in question.”
“I won’t turn you into a town joke. If we start an affair, people will pick up on it. They’ll see it in the way we look at each other. Or speak. Or touch.” He bent and snagged his wallet off the floor where she’d dropped it and tucked it into his back pocket. “Alicia didn’t have to say a word and I knew she and Justin were together just from how they interacted.”
“I don’t care about gossip.”
“I do and you will.”
He stated it with such implacability that she knew no amount of argument would sway him. “All right. We won’t make love again.”
“You’ll see. It’s the right decision,” he said. “The only decision.” Picking up his shoes, he crossed to the bedroom door. There, he paused and glanced at her over his shoulder. “You okay?”
She smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine.”
He took her at her word and left. The instant the door closed, her smile faded. Well, what had she expected? That he’d fall at her feet and declare his undying love? That he’d beg her to marry him and have his babies? She sank onto the edge of the mattress and closed her eyes. Damn.
His babies.
Once upon a time, it had seemed not just a possible dream, but a likely one. Now it was as much an improbability as her reaching for the moon and plucking it from the nighttime sky. Curling into a ball, she reminded herself that she wasn’t going to have any regrets. If all he could give her was this one night, then she’d thank heaven above for the memory and be grateful she’d been given that much.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t planned on falling in love with Alex again. Too bad she hadn’t considered the likelihood of that beforehand—not that it would have made a difference. If she lived to be a hundred, the memory of this one special night would bring a smile to her face whenever she thought of it. And she planned to think about it a lot. With that final thought, sleep claimed her. When it did, it was with a smile on her lips.
And a tear on her cheek.
Everything changed over the next week. Alex turned into her employer—a real employer. And Rebecca found keeping a smile on her face more difficult than she imagined possible. When he scheduled a formal meeting with her in his office to discuss the upcoming party, Rebecca was determined to prove to
him that she could handle the aftermath of their…
She hesitated to call it an actual affair. A one-night stand? Whatever the term for it, one thing was certain. Alex was determined to hold her at a careful distance.
“I want to discuss the Franklin reception with you,” he said when she joined him in his office. He waved her toward the chair in front of his desk and folded his hands on the tidy teak surface while leveling her with a detached stare that buried all hint of emotion. “You’ve handled these sort of affairs for your father, haven’t you?”
“I’ve organized them, yes,” she agreed cautiously.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Okay, I know a ‘but’ when I hear one.”
She hesitated. “In the past, I’ve always hired a caterer.”
“Which I’ve already given you permission to do,” he replied with an edge of impatience.
She sacrificed tact for honesty. “I’m not sure I can handle all my normal responsibilities in regard to maintaining the house in addition to covering everything that needs to be done for the party, especially since you want the place decorated for Christmas.”
“Got it.” For the first time, a hint of emotion slipped through his impassive demeanor. The fact that it was amusement she took as a good sign since it returned them to a more companionable footing. “You have my permission to hire extra staff if you need it. You can supervise staff, I assume?”
She grinned. “I excel at it.”
He returned her smile with one of his own and that’s when she saw it—a blistering flash of desire that came and went so quickly she thought maybe she’d imagined it. Right until she saw his fingers tense. And for the first time since their night together, she felt a resurgence of hope.
“Fine. Your new job is to take care of the party.” He shoved back his chair. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”
She stood, as well. When he made to pass her, she touched his arm. Just that. He paused, staring down at her with keen regret. “We can’t, Becca,” he informed her gently. “It won’t lead anywhere good.”
“Funny. I thought our night together was pretty darn good. More than, if you want my opinion.” This time he didn’t reveal any amusement. Instead she caught regret, and that more than anything filled her with sorrow. Without another word, she let him go. “Right,” she whispered when he was no longer within earshot. “I get it.”
It wasn’t until she was in the middle of discussing the meals with the caterer that she saw her conversation with Alex in a far different light. Rebecca had worked successfully with Angie, the owner of the company, in the past, but her new position as Alex’s housekeeper seemed to change Angie’s attitude toward her. There was a slight hint of discomfort that Rebecca was finally forced to confront.
“Okay, Angie. What’s going on? You and I have worked together a dozen times in the past. What’s the problem?”
Angie sighed. “I’m sorry, Rebecca. It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
“Is it because I’m Alex’s housekeeper?” she asked bluntly. “Or is it because of my father? What’s the deal?”
“I can’t pretend I haven’t heard the rumors, but I know you. If your father did something unethical, that’s on him,” Angie replied just as bluntly. “I don’t hold it against you.”
Rebecca blinked in surprise. “Thanks. I appreciate it. But…if that’s not the problem, what is?”
“It’s Montoya. Rumors are flying all over Somerset about his forcing you to be his…housekeeper,” she spoke the word with a telling edge to her voice, “in exchange for helping your father. I’m just not sure I want to work for someone capable of doing such a thing.”
“Is that all?” Rebecca said with a relieved laugh. “Then let me reassure you. Alex didn’t force me to work for him. If anything, it was the other way around.”
It was Angie’s turn to blink. “Come again?”
“I showed up on Alex’s doorstep and told him I’d work as his housekeeper until my family’s debt is paid. He did everything he could to talk me out of it.” She grimaced. “If what you’re saying about the rumor mill is accurate, I’m beginning to understand why he was so reluctant to take me on. I had no idea people would think he’d forced this on me.”
“I have to tell you, this certainly puts a different light on things.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Rebecca smiled. “Alex is really a great guy. Maverick County is fortunate to have him living here.”
“Fair enough,” Angie said, though a hint of doubt remained in her voice. “But won’t it be weird for you?”
Rebecca shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand. Won’t what be weird?”
Color darkened Angie’s cheeks. “Won’t all your friends be at this party?”
“Most of them, sure. So?”
“Well, won’t it be weird being one of the hired help instead of a guest? I’d think it would be really awkward. For you and them.”
Rebecca couldn’t believe the thought hadn’t occurred to her before this. It would be awkward. She spent the rest of the day considering it and trying to find some way out of her predicament. Maybe she could arrange for the extra staff she’d hired to cover for her.
Then she shook her head. The party was her baby and hers alone. Dumping the job on someone else wasn’t fair to Alex or his guests, particularly Darius and Summer Franklin. Besides, everyone would only be uncomfortable if she made them feel that way. If she treated it as par for the course, so would they.
She hoped.
Rebecca considered calling Kate and explaining the situation, but feared her friend would end up leading a protest that would ruin the party. She’d feel awful if a reception meant to celebrate the Franklins’ marriage turned into something unpleasant. All of which meant that she needed to rely on every ounce of poise and good humor to carry off the evening.
The next few weeks flowed by while the house took on more and more of a holiday aspect. Fresh greenery, poinsettias, vases of fresh-cut winter flowers and swags in winter-green and burgundy festooned the house. With the help of a workforce of willing backs, the ballroom became a winter fairyland that delighted everyone who saw it.
The day of the party, she took extra pains to make sure everything was set up properly. Angie arrived with her catering staff and began to prepare the dishes for the buffet. Toward the end of the day, Alex passed her in the hallway on his way to his room and paused long enough to compliment her on how beautiful the house looked. He even surprised her—and himself, she suspected—by planting a fleeting kiss on her lips.
“Thank you for all your hard work. The place looks amazing.”
“Thanks.”
He drew back, though she could see it was a struggle to revert to the role he’d assumed over the past few weeks. “Guess I’d better get showered. Guests arrive soon.”
“I think that’s my cue to get changed,” she said lightly.
“I’ll meet you back here in forty-five.”
Hastening to her room, she debated over her choice of clothing. She didn’t want something that looked too much like a uniform. No point in rubbing people’s faces in it. But at the same time, she didn’t dare wear anything that smacked of a cocktail dress. She needed to draw a subtle line between staff and guest without causing tension. Finally, she settled on a simple black skirt and black silk blouse.
Precisely fifteen minutes before the first guests were due to arrive, she stationed herself in the foyer where she could greet Alex’s guests and escort them to the ballroom. She carried a tray of champagne to offer each couple as they arrived and was in the process of finding the best place to position it when she heard Alex’s footsteps on the sweeping stairway behind her. He halted halfway down. She turned to smile up at him, but to her alarm, he stared at her in outrage before finishing his descent.
Crossing to her side, he grabbed her arm, jarring the tray. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Nine
Rebecca struggled to hang
on to her dignity, but she could feel fine cracks forming, expanding with each second that passed. “I’m getting ready to serve your guests,” she replied, amazed at how calm she managed to sound.
He snatched the tray from her hands and slammed it onto a nearby table. The crystal sang in protest at his rough treatment and champagne splashed over the edges of the fragile flutes. “I don’t know what game you’re playing—”
“Game?” To her shock, fury shot through her, a fury she didn’t even realize she felt until that moment. “I’m not the one playing games. I’m your housekeeper. You assigned this job to me. I’m simply doing what you pay me to do.”
He glared at her in open affront. “I am not paying you to offend our friends and neighbors by acting the part of a servant. Go change into an appropriate outfit and then join us for the celebration.”
“Why?” she insisted. “So I won’t humiliate you? I’m not ashamed of my job. Why are you?”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Is this your way of getting even? Is this because I haven’t pursued a relationship with you after we made love? You feel the need to wear sackcloth and ashes because you’ve become, in fact, what people are calling you behind your back?”
She could feel the blood drain from her face. “How dare you?”
“How dare I? How dare you put me in such an embarrassing position with people who are more your friends than mine? Who have spent the last decade barely tolerating my presence in the community?”
Understanding crashed down on her and she began to realize she’d made a terrible mistake. That somehow, maybe because of what Angie had said to her, she’d misunderstood his intention. And now she’d insulted him. Truly, deeply offended him.
It had never occurred to her that he felt so uncomfortable around people who had been her friends for most of her life. And it should have. Hadn’t she seen how difficult the Brodys had made his life through the years? How he’d been treated by some of the more elitist of those with whom they’d gone to school, who would have considered it beneath them to associate with the son of a housekeeper? In that moment, she saw herself through his eyes and felt incredibly small and petty even though she hadn’t been deliberately trying to embarrass him.
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