He rolled his eyes. “Well, you haven’t seen the worst of it yet. Let me tell you something, though. I learned long ago that the secret of dealing with these people is to just go with the flow. Don’t ask any questions. Avoid engaging the enemy and take no prisoners. Just smile and nod and go with the flow.”
Meg considered for a moment that maybe this was a good time to probe into his past a little. But just as she made up her mind, a rather convivial husband and wife approached them, and without even thinking to introduce themselves, the woman asked Evan if she could have an autograph.
“Didn’t I tell you?” he whispered against her ear after scribbling something on a cocktail napkin and watching them walk away.
“Right! Just go with the flow!”
“I think it’s time that I gave you that tour of the gardens. How about it? Just the two of us?”
She nodded with a smile. She could tell that the champagne was already going to her head, a sensation not entirely unpleasant. The ballroom shone in the magic of the huge twin chandeliers of crystal and gold. As she gazed up at the center of the ceiling, painted to look as if it opened to a summer sky, Meg felt as though she could take flight and soar like a bird amid those clouds. Only the sounds of the orchestra’s music and the festive chatter of people gathered in groups around them kept her earthbound.
As a waitress passed, offering more champagne, Evan set both of their glasses on her tray, replacing them with two full ones.
Meg shivered with excitement the way he wrapped his other hand around hers and led her toward one of the tall, arched doors leading to the gardens and the lawn. As he pushed his broad shoulders through the throng, the suave confidence that he exuded--and the glances he continually drew as he went by--thrilled her and filled her with an unprecedented sense of pride that she was the woman with him. That she was his choice.
Like a vision from some dream or a passage from a romance, Evan Knight was taking her to the gardens. For time immemorial, lovers had been escaping to gardens. A thousand stories told of some beautiful garden of love. Some bower of bliss. Here, in the gardens of Rosecliff, in the light of the rising moon, beneath the glimmering eyes of a million stars, she hoped he would kiss her and make love to her as no one else could.
“Evan! Evan Knight.”
Meg groaned inwardly as the two blonde women who had practically attacked him two nights ago appeared in their path. This time, to her shock, Evan wrapped a protective hand around her waist and pulled her snugly against his side.
“Oh, this is fabulous!”
“Cornelia, Lucy! I didn’t get a chance the other night to introduce you to my fiancé, Meg Murphy!”
Meg felt her knees nearly buckle with the shock of his statement, but he continued to hold her steady at his side.
“Fiancé?”
“When?”
“You can’t be!”
She held her breath as Evan turned to her. With a slow, sensual movement he brushed his lips against hers.
“I’m sorry, love,” he said in a low growl. “Just hold on a minute longer?”
Meg nodded as he turned back to the two, gawking women.
“I know Phil Campbell came tonight only because he knows you two are in town. He’s probably circulating looking for you right now. Let’s see, where could he be?”
Meg bit back a smile. Evan Knight might be the devil himself, she thought, but his diversion worked as the two perennial debutantes tripped off in search of poor Phil.
“Fiancé?” she scolded under her breath as Evan again started toward the doors.
“I know. Not too convincing.” He stepped back to allow her through first. “I should have said my wife,” he whispered.
Meg swallowed her retort as they passed through the French doors and into the comfortably warm September night. But to her disappointment, quite a few other people already preceded them, ambling along on the stone walkways and sitting in pairs and small groups on the benches leading down through the garden toward the ocean cliff.
“This way, Grace.” Evan smiled, taking her hand again and directing her away from all of them.
Walking away from the huge yellow and white striped tent, past the lights, and onto the immense stretch of lawn, they casually made their way down to a fence that separated the grounds of the mansions from the Cliff Walk. Meg remembered walking many times along the narrow path on the other side of the fence, looking in at the ornate and gilded grandeur of these ‘cottages.’
Out beyond the Cliff Walk, a round, golden moon had pushed her way up from the shimmering waters into a sky so deep and blue that it hurt Meg to look at it. A night so clear and yet so filled with the mysteries of life. Mysteries that had been evading Meg for a long, long time.
Evan handed her a glass of wine. She accepted it and touched it against his.
“If you think, Mr. Knight, that you are going to get me so drunk that I won’t be able to ask any questions...”
“I was hoping to get you just drunk enough to take advantage of you.”
“Talk to me, Evan.”
“All right. But first tell me what it is that you want to know?”
She took a sip of her wine and watched him move in beside her. She looked up into his eyes, so dark now, reflecting only the light of the moon. The smooth fabric of his jacket brushed against her bare arm, and she shivered, forgetting for an instant what she’d wanted to ask.
“Are you cold? They should have given you a wrap to go with this dress.”
She felt his arm encircle around her, bringing her to him. She felt so right, nestled against him.
“Not cold, Evan. A little afraid, maybe.”
“Afraid? Not of me, I hope.”
“Yes, of you,” she whispered. “I don’t know you.”
He lifted her chin until she was looking into his eyes. “The truth is that you are one of very few people in the world who does know me. What you don’t know is the peculiar façade that the rest of the world sees. The other...the other Evan Knight.”
“And this other Evan Knight, this stranger...” She swallowed. “Is he so bad? Is he someone you need to keep from me?”
“I wouldn’t have brought you here tonight if that were true.”
She reached up and smoothed the furrowed lines on his forehead. She’d been right. Whatever that other Evan might be, the real man standing before her was not ready to unleash that demon on her. And who the heck was she to force him to speak his mind before it was time?
“You talked about fear.” He gazed into her eyes. “Meg, I can’t come up with any explanation for it--I can’t put my finger on what specific thing triggered it--but somehow, from the first moment I met you, you have been under my skin. Somehow, my...my heart opened and wrapped itself around you. That’s never happened to me before, and it’s an amazing thing. But the down side of it is that it has filled me with this fear...or maybe anxiety...or whatever else you want to call it. Whatever it is, it has made me hold back from telling you everything.”
“Evan, you don’t have to tell me anything.”
“But I want to. I mean, it’s not something really terrible that I’ve hidden from you. It’s not like I’m going to turn into a werewolf or anything. It’s just...well, I guess I’m afraid that you won’t like what you see.” He gave a nervous chuckle. “For the first time in my life, Meg, I’m afraid that I won’t measure up.”
She dropped her glass lightly into the grass and put her arms around him. “Measure up to whom?”
“To myself!” He peered down at her. She could see in his face the discomfort he was feeling--hear the edge that had crept into his voice. “Usually people meet...well, that other me, and I don’t give a damn what they like or don’t like. I never want them to know me beyond that. But with you it’s the other way around. With you I have been myself from the beginning, and...”
Suddenly, Meg hated herself for doing this to him. He was upset, and she was the cause. Did it matter to her really if she didn’t know ev
erything from his date of birth to his social security number to his favorite desert? Of course not. She wanted him. No matter what. She loved the man she was holding in her arms.
“Hey, we’re on a date.” She pressed her face against his chest to hide her own distress. She loved Evan Knight. That was all she needed to know. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”
She heard his glass drop onto the lawn, and then she felt his warm embrace. “All right,” he whispered. “But sooner or later, you have to know.”
“Let it be later.” Meg raised herself and placed a kiss against his throat. “Not now.”
Before he could voice another objection, she brushed her lips against his.
Breaking away, Evan pulled her across the grass to a rose arbor near the corner of the property. As she entered it, Meg glanced back up the acres of lawn and garden to the mansion. No one had ventured as far down as they, and the music and laughter from the ball rose and fell in the drifting currents of a soft sea breeze.
He drew her to a marble bench inside of the arbor, where they sat in shadows made from moon and vine.
“How much time do you think we have before dinner,” she whispered mischievously, moving herself onto his lap.
“What dinner?” he said hoarsely before taking possession of her willing mouth.
A moment later, she moaned deep in her throat as she felt his hand move along the chiffon covering her belly to her breast. She was certain he must feel the hammering of her heart as he dipped his finger inside the low neckline, teasing her nipple.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since you answered your door tonight.”
Her head rolled back languorously as he tugged on the front of her dress until one of her breasts sprang free. When he lowered his mouth to her nipple she arched her back at the shock of the sensation.
Electricity raced through her veins. Like an inferno her insides erupted in a blaze of heat and passion. Meg threaded her fingers into his hair, holding herself steady against the dizzying waves of desire that were washing over her.
“Evan!” she whispered huskily. “Let’s forget about the dinner. Let’s go!”
“Oh, no you don’t! You’re not getting away that easily.” He pulled her higher on his lap, until even through their layers of clothing, she could feel him, hot and hard beneath her.
“I had to do a lot of planning for tonight, and until we’ve enjoyed each and every step, you’re not getting me alone in that bed.”
“That borders on sadism, you know,” she rasped, smiling at him.
“Why not just consider it extended foreplay.” He reached down and slowly pulled up the hem of her skirts.
“What kind of forepl...” She couldn’t finish. His fingers were gliding up her leg. They paused for a moment when he touched the bare skin above her stocking.
“A garter belt!” He gave a devilish grin. “And...no underwear.”
She gasped as he delved gently inside her.
“Evan!” she cried against his lips. “What happens if someone comes?”
“Someone will come.” He stroked the moist folds. “And I hope she enjoys it.”
Meg gasped and reached between their bodies, feeling for him through his pants.
“Oh, no.” He pushed her hand away. “That will have to wait.”
“It’s not fair.” She gasped again as he increased the tempo of his touch. “You...you’re trying to distract me. I...I want to do this to you. I...”
The pulsing in her body was beginning to consume Meg moved, rocking to the rhythm of his fingers, her body lifting higher and higher in a quickening spiral of heat and desire. Something wild and primeval--something deep inside her--was rising to the surface, screaming for release.
“I want you, Evan. I want to taste you...and do the things...you do...to me...I...”
Unable to hold back any longer, she cried out, her last shred of control obliterated in a crescendo of white heat.
She was only half conscious of him gathering her tightly to his chest as her windborne spirit floated gently back to her shuddering body. It took a long moment before she was able to find her voice once again.
“Will the limo take us back home?”
He looked down at her with a curious smile. “Sure, but we still have dinner, don’t forget.”
“Okay, Mr. Marquis de Sade. But we’re not staying for desert.”
CHAPTER 22
Evan never liked cherry flambé, anyway.
As they stood waiting for the limo to be brought around, he gazed proudly at Meg, still in discussion with a woman who had joined them at dinner. The other woman, a high profile business executive from New York, had happened to be one of the people they'd shared their table, and she and Meg had immediately found a mutual point of concern regarding the dismal future our society offered unmarried, teen mothers. Evan enjoyed the way Meg, with the support of her newfound ally, had presented the plight of these young women in a way the rest of the old money sitting at the table could understand. Indeed, they had not been so amiable at first. But that had quickly changed.
Leave it to Meg, Evan thought, playing rabble rouser with a bunch of fourth-generation millionaires. These were people for whom trusts had been set up ensuring the wealth of their grandchildren before they themselves had even been born.
He could almost read her mind. He certainly could appreciate her line of thinking. This was a charity function for terminally ill children, and the people attending had the means and the interest in making a difference in the lives of the patients. It was their money that was going into the research and to help find the cure for these horrible diseases.
So why not use the opportunity to raise the consciousness of a few on a topic close to Meg’s heart.
Evan watched the other woman hand Meg one of her business cards as a valet brought her sports car around. He only heard the tail end of the invitation.
“I’m in Boston at least three or four days a month. Please call me. I’d love to get together for lunch, and discuss this some more.”
“I’ll be heading home in a couple of days. Perhaps we could do that!”
Another couple of days, he repeated silently. Well, not if he had anything to say about it.
As the other car took off, Meg beamed at him. He felt a twisting sensation in his gut even as his heart began to race.
“I think we started something tonight!”
“You sure did.”
He didn’t wait for the driver to come around, but opened the door of the limo for her himself as the long, black vehicle pulled to the curb. She climbed in first and turned to him excitedly.
“Could we take a drive around?”
“Sure. Where to?”
“How about along Ocean Drive?”
Evan gave directions to the driver and closed the privacy screen. Meg slipped her arm around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips.
“Thanks, Evan. I really had a great time.”
He couldn’t help but smile. To think for how many years he’d dreaded going to functions like this, and here in one night she’d changed his view of them completely. Meg had shown him the usefulness of getting together a tableful of the East Coast elite.
He ran a finger across her lower lip, thinking how much he wanted to kiss her, how much he wanted to tell her that he loved her and how proud of her he’d been tonight.
“I guess I had a good time too,” he said instead, trying his best to sound pouty. “That is, considering...one, I never got to dance with you, and...two, from the time we went back up to the mansion, I hardly even got a word in edgewise without two other people elbowing me out and vying for your attention.”
“You poor baby,” she cooed, cradling his face in her hands. “Did your feelings get hurt? Were you upset?”
Meg started placing soft, tender kisses on his cheek, then his chin, then his other cheek. By the time she was finished with his face and started on his neck, he knew he was looking placated, but forced back his smile.
>
“Yes, I was very upset! In fact, I was devastated. Probably scarred for life!”
“That’s sounds pretty bad. And this was to be such a special night!”
He let out an exaggerated yelp as she bit on his earlobe.
“I’ll just have to see if there is something I can do to mend your wounds. I did take a course in first aid once...when I was a scout.”
She helped him to take off his jacket, and then tossed it along with his tie onto the seat facing them across the way. He reached behind her, running his hand over her bottom, but she quickly placed his hand firmly on the leather seat.
“Now you can’t do that. You just have to lay back and relax and let me take care of you. These first few minutes are critical in such a sensitive situation.”
“Are they?”
“Very!”
Meg moved closer and started kissing a path down his neck and throat, following the line of buttons her fingers were busily undoing on his chest.
“Just sit back,” she coed, pushing his shirt open and running her lips over his exposed chest. “Just leave yourself in my capable hands.”
“I hope you got a merit badge for this,” he rasped through clenched jaws.
He saw her grin mischievously, and decided he must have died and gone to heaven. Growling deep in his throat as she moved down along the tautened muscles of his stomach, he held his breath as she reached around him and unclipped his cummerbund.
When he reached over and pulled at her skirts, she slapped his hands away again. "You’re my patient, and this is my turn to take care of you.”
Slowly, she unzipped his trousers.
“Remember me asking about the limo ride home?”
“Yeah?” he managed to whisper.
“Well, get ready for the ride of your life.”
Evan groaned out loud as she freed his aroused manhood from his pants and lowered her mouth, taking him in. But a few short moments of that sweet torture was all he could take.
He lifted her bodily, pulling her skirts up to her waist and kneeling her astride him on the seat.
She hesitated momentarily, and he eyed the downy mound and the ivory skin above her stockings as she started searching in his pockets.
Made in Heaven Page 22
