They had arrived at the winery, and Eileen’s expression as she watched them emerge made it seem as though zombies had walked out of the vineyard.
Peter offered her an abbreviated hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Good to see you, Eileen.”
“What…what…what?”
“We just ran into each other,” Alice said. “I couldn’t figure out how to get back here, so Peter showed me the way out. Are you finished with your wine lesson?”
Eileen had not yet recovered and only nodded as she continued to gape at them.
Alice turned to Peter, thought of offering her hand to shake but decided that would feel too awkward. “Good seeing you again, Peter. Thanks for showing me the way. Maybe I’ll see you again some time with another happy coincidence.”
They were almost to the car when Peter walked up behind them and said, “Wait,” and Alice turned to face him. “It doesn’t have to be a happy coincidence. I mean, we don’t necessarily have to wait for the next coincidence. Jack is coming in town this evening. Would you consider dinner? The four of us?”
Alice couldn’t move or speak, paralyzed by the invitation. Eileen stepped in. “Yes, I would love to see Jack again, and you and I could catch up. Why don’t you tell me when and where, and we’ll meet you there.”
“Would you like to go to Alsace Aquitaine?”
Alice shook herself out of her stupor. “You have reservations there tonight?”
“Not yet.”
“I thought you had to make reservations two months in advance.”
“Is that a yes?” She nodded. “I’ll see you at eight?”
They agreed by silent assent and climbed in the car.
All the way to the resort, Eileen interrogated Alice and demanded to know every detail about what had occurred at the vineyard, and Alice did her best to satisfy her.
“Do you want to know the variety of fig? I think they were mission but I’m not sure.”
“I know it must have been so uncomfortable for both of you.”
“Yes. Especially at first.”
“If you would rather not go tonight, I’ll call and cancel. I completely understand.”
“What? And miss out on probably our only chance to eat at Alsace Aquitaine?”
“I’m serious, Alice.”
She said nothing a moment, silently recounting each glance and every emotion elicited. “No. I want to go.”
“Are you sure? Do you really want to go?”
“Yes, I really do.”
Alice and Eileen arrived at the restaurant and were led outside to the courtyard. Peter had arranged for a table for four to be set up for their own private dining. Both men greeted Eileen with a kiss on the cheek, but only Jack offered one to Alice, which made her wonder if Peter held a grudge after all, despite the invitation and his behavior at the vineyard.
Jack wanted to know everything going on with All My Tomorrows, but Alice hesitated because of the pending lawsuit as well as everything she had said the night she and Peter fought. Eileen jumped in with all the latest news and gossip about the cast and crew, since Alice had kept her up to speed on all the events since she left the show, but they all avoided any mention of Giselle.
“And how is Mrs. Jellyby?” Jack asked. “Are the ratings going her way?”
“No,” Alice answered. “They’ve been on a steady decline since we returned from the Olympics, but we’re optimistic about a new storyline we are introducing.”
“What do you have up your sleeve?”
“You know I can’t reveal the storyline of a soap opera!” They all groaned and prodded until she relented. “As long as you promise it won’t leave this table. We have decided Brother Raife is not a good match for Sienna after all.”
“Do you mean you’re writing Rich out of the show?” Eileen asked.
“For the most part, yes.” Alice glanced at Peter, who stared silently at her from under a raised brow.
“So are you killing him off?” Jack asked.
“No. He’s being ordained.” All four of them burst out laughing. “Would you believe that son-of-a-bitch had it in his contract that his character could not be killed off for three years? So he will be taking his final vows. I think the ordination will make for riveting television – and all the turmoil he has gone through before choosing God over Sienna.”
“And how did he take the news?”
“I have no idea. They weren’t telling him until today.” They laughed and congratulated her for wisely being out of town.
“Of course,” Peter said, “it’s not quite as bad as being her brother.”
“I hope you aren’t still holding a grudge about that,” Alice said.
He peered into her eyes until she thought her heart had stopped beating. “No. You were right. It was an inspired twist – no one saw it coming. I don’t hold any grudges...about anything.”
Alice couldn’t be sure what happened in the moments she and Peter sat gazing at each other, but she imagined some sort of sign language passed between Eileen and Jack since they were simultaneously overcome by exhaustion.
“I am really wiped out after the flight up here,” Jack said with a dramatic yawn. An hour flight?
“Yeah, going to all these wineries has worn me out. I think I’m going to have to call it a night.”
Clearly alarmed, Peter looked back and forth from Eileen to Alice. “But you can’t go yet. We just opened this bottle of wine!”
Alice sat frozen with her mouth slightly open, not comprehending the conversation around her.
“No, I’m sorry, Peter, I’m just beat,” Jack said standing up from the table, “but I don’t want to spoil the evening for everyone. You stay and enjoy the wine.”
Then Eileen pushed her chair back. “Jack, I can give you a ride. Peter, you don’t mind bringing Alice back to her cottage. Do you?”
He had barely shaken his head before the pair disappeared into the night, leaving Alice still unsure of what had just happened.
“For being so exhausted,” she said, “they sure ran out of here.”
“Do…do you want me to take you to your room? If you’re uncomfortable...”
“Are you kidding? We have a bottle of Bordeaux to drink.” She smiled, but he did not smile back. “Unless you feel uncomfortable.”
“Alice, I can honestly say there is no place in the world I would rather be right at this moment.”
She wasn’t sure if she was about to implode or melt or both. His words gripped her chest so tightly she lost her breath.
The wait staff ran out and efficiently transformed the setting to a table for two then disappeared, with a word from Peter that he would call them if they needed anything, leaving them as the only two people in the candlelit courtyard under the night sky.
He poured the wine himself and handed her a glass. “I want you to know, I did not arrange this. I mean, for you and me to be left alone together.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“But I can’t say I’m sorry.”
She stalled for time by drinking her wine. “I have to admit, I am a bit surprised by that. After the way we left things in New Orleans.”
“Let’s just leave all that in New Orleans. We’re here now.”
“I do thank you for arranging this amazing dinner under the stars.”
“I know how you enjoy courtyards.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because even though you were so miserable from the heat and humidity, you always wanted to sit out on the courtyard. Here you have it with no heat and no humidity.”
“And no paparazzi.”
He squeezed his eyes shut before returning them to her. “Alice, I am so, so sorry about the photos in The Intruder.”
“It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who elected to sit in a public place.”
“But you didn’t know I would follow you there.”
“Hey, I thought we were going to forget about New Orleans. It’s so beautiful here.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Of course. Who wouldn’t?”
“But you would never want to leave L.A. Would you?”
“Are you kidding? In a New York minute. I’m a writer – I could certainly do that better someplace like this. I’m only in L.A. because of a job writing, even if it is for a soap. I’m not like you, Peter. I’m not part of that Hollywood culture and the Southern California lifestyle.”
“I don’t think I’m like me either.” He took a sip of his wine while Alice puzzled over his cryptic remark, but before she could ask him to explain, he said, “Alice, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Is it what you needed to talk to me about in New Orleans?”
“No, forget all about that. Remember – no more New Orleans. I’ve already told Jack this, but I wanted to be sure it wouldn’t upset you.”
“Oh, for the love of God! Just say it! The build-up is killing me!”
“You don’t think we should cut for a commercial break?” He grinned. “Tag you in a close-up?” She playfully punched him in the arm then realized it was their first physical contact since he had helped her up at the vineyard. That light punch must have broken down some barrier because he took her hand in both of his. “Alice, I’m going to tell my lawyer to drop the lawsuit. I want to come back to All My Tomorrows and finish out my contract. I’ll stay for a full story arc if you let me. But I don’t want to do anything that will cause you any kind of discomfort or embarrassment.”
If she had devoted every cell in her brain to predicting what he would say, she would not have come to that conclusion. “Peter, do you mean it? Are you sure? You’ll stay through sweeps? That could save the show!” A smile broke across her face.
“So you’re okay with it?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I didn’t know how you would feel working with me again after…all that has happened. Plus, with the paparazzi, you know there will be speculation. People might think that you and I…”
“I can think of worse fates than being mistaken for a movie star’s girlfriend.” She pulled her hand free from his and wrapped her arms around his neck without even thinking. “Thank you. I would put up with all manner of mortification to save those jobs.”
His hands rested on her upper arms, and he did not hug her back. After too many seconds, humiliated by her impetuous reaction, she released him, sat back, and drank her wine. He wiped his brow and took a sip from his glass too, and the silence fell over them like a hot New Orleans night. No! No more New Orleans!
“I’m sorry, Peter. Now I’ve made you uncomfortable. I’m just so happy and so grateful, you have no idea. In fact, for a split second I thought you were telling me that so I’d sleep with you.”
“Would it have worked?” he asked quickly.
“I guess we’ll never know.”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t want you that way. I wouldn’t want you to sleep with me out of gratitude or pity.”
She barked out a laugh that startled him. “I’m sorry, but the very idea that someone would sleep with Peter Walsingham out of pity is an inherently ridiculous proposition.”
They eased back into the relaxed banter of earlier that evening and spoke of his daughter and traded anecdotes from their own childhoods. They discussed their mutual fondness for French literature and how she had managed to get a degree in it and still couldn’t communicate with a Parisian cab driver. They talked until the bottle had been depleted and they had no excuse to stay. The quick car trip required minimal conversation and nothing to strain their imaginations. Then he pulled the car into the gravel drive way and put it in park, and they were silent.
“Would you like to come in for a nightcap?” she asked, then realized she had nothing to drink in her room.
He kept his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes straight ahead. “I can’t.”
Oh. “All right then.” She unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Eileen said you are in a cottage?”
“Yes, just around the main building.”
He turned off the engine. “I’ll see you to your door.”
Neither spoke as they walked on the narrow path to her door or when she turned the key. She turned back to face him, unsure what to do or say.
“Thank you for a magical evening,” she said.
“But magic isn’t real. Is it? It’s all an illusion.”
She couldn’t tell if she detected bitterness in his tone or defeat, but either way it squeezed her heart and made her eyes burn.
“Good night.” She moved to embrace him, a kiss on the cheek; but he grasped her arms and held her back, and she didn’t know how long she could stave off the tears. “I suppose a part of you must hate me.”
He shook his head gently without taking his eyes from hers. His grip tightened on one arm as he raised his other hand to the side of her face and swept his thumb from her temple, down her cheek, to her lips. As he rubbed his thumb on her lower lip, her heartbeats and breaths quickened, and her eyes slid shut. He rolled his thumb all around her lips, inside and out, sending a current of desire through her core until she thought she might burst if he didn’t kiss her.
His thumb still against her lip, he leaned his forehead against hers and spoke with a low ragged breath. “Alice, I can’t. I can’t kiss you.”
Why not? She thought the words but could not speak, too wrapped up in the sensations he aroused in her.
“If I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop. I won’t stop kissing you. And I won’t stop with just kissing you. I will have to make love to you, and you won’t be able to stop me. Not again. Do you understand what I am saying, Alice? If I kiss you, I will not be able to stop until I have had you, completely, and nothing you say or do will do any good. If I kiss you, I will make love to you. Do you understand?”
She nodded as much as their position allowed. Then his thumb stopped its ministrations and he held his hand on her cheek, and she said, “Kiss me.”
And he did. He pulled her body hard against his and stabbed his fingers into her hair as his mouth covered hers, plunging his tongue in with the first savage embrace. She tried to kiss him back, but he controlled it, his hunger overwhelming them both, and she surrendered fully.
He pushed her back through the open door and reached behind him to close it. In that moment, she dropped her purse and curled her arm around his neck to pull him closer, bring him deeper, as their mouths melded into one. He snaked his arm around her back, tightening his hold as if she might float away, which she thought she very well may. Then with a quick twist and a move she thought he must have used in a movie, he had her off her feet and in his arms. Without breaking the kiss, he hesitated in his steps before carrying her into the bedroom, dark except for the light from the moon and an outside lamp streaming in through the French doors. He laid her on the bed, and only then did he pull his mouth from hers.
Without taking his eyes off her, he kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt. She sat up as he did so, and once he had divested himself of his shirt, he leaned around and pulled the zipper down her back. He took her hand just long enough to bring her to her feet, then he pushed her dress off her shoulders and arms and it fell into a puddle on the floor. As he reached over to turn down the bed, she stepped out of her dress and shoes and stood only in her lingerie. He turned and took her into his arms again then fell with her upon the bed, crushing their bodies together and his mouth upon hers.
She touched him, wherever she could, running her fingers through his hair and her hands down his neck and back, as their mouths moved together. When he rolled over, he brought her with him, their lips still sealed, and she ran her hands over his chest as he unfastened her bra. They worked together to free her arms of its straps, and he tossed it away. Then they lay on their sides, chest to chest, their hands roaming as they continued to kiss. His fingers traced a path from her neck to her breast and lingered there, making her cognizant that he had ne
ver actually touched her breast before, which thrilled her that much more.
After an excruciatingly light pass over her nipple, his hand continued its journey and touched her over the thin silk between her legs, rippling shockwaves out like from the epicenter of an earthquake. He worked his fingers under the waistband, and she trembled as he fondled her feminine flesh and whimpered into his mouth as he rhythmically touched her inside and out. Tension coiled in her womb until he stopped and pulled his mouth and hand away from her. His breathing heavy, he gazed at her as he eased her back against the mattress and held himself over her. Working his way down her body, he kissed her forehead, the hollow of her throat, and between her breasts. He placed a kiss on her navel and then just above the lace waistband before inching the silk and lace over her hips and down her legs, exposing her shadowed form to him completely. He rolled off the bed and stood devouring her with his eyes in the dimly lit room as he unbuckled his belt and removed his slacks.
He climbed back into bed and took her face in his hands, allowing no escape as he joined their lips and teeth and tongues in another deep embrace. When he ended the kiss, he lifted his head and traced her features with his eyes as he caressed her cheeks with his thumbs.
“I think you are in love with me, Alice. You’re just afraid to admit it.”
Without waiting for a reply or admission, he brought his lips to hers in gentle, lingering kisses. He maneuvered between her legs, kissed her once more, then held her eyes with his as he pushed inside of her. She gasped and her eyes closed with the welcome intrusion. He didn’t move at first; he held steady there, being one with her, still watching her when her eyes opened, and nothing had ever felt so perfect, so complete. In that moment, she knew he was right. She was in love him. Desperately. Madly. Violently.
He moved within her in a slow, languid tempo, punctuating each stroke with a soft kiss as if intending to tattoo the moment on her memory. He had not lied. He had said he would make love to her, and this could be called nothing less – not sleeping together or having sex or intercourse or screwing. With each thrust, he pushed her deeper and deeper, with the well of emotion overflowing until a tear trickled from her eye. He didn’t ask why, only wiped it away with his thumb and kissed her lips again.
All My Tomorrows Page 14
