Deception

by Carolyn Haines

  She felt his fingers in her hair. The planes of his chest supported her, as did his arms. Connor lost herself in the strength his body offered. His tongue explored her mouth, tasting and teasing, and she responded with delight and abandon. His lips moved to her throat, and she could feel the pulse of her heart as he pressed his lips against her neck. His hand, tangled in her hair, gently tugged her head back and gave him complete access to the open collar of her shirt.

  “Oh, Clay,” she whispered, as his lips lingered at the hollow of her collarbone and then started a slow, teasing path down to her breast.

  The sharp chirp of a bird finally penetrated her thoughts. Hours could have passed, but Connor knew it was only a few minutes. Her heart was pounding in her ears, in rhythm with his. She forced her eyes open, focusing on the tree limbs above them. She’d been caught in the current of a big river, a river swollen to the point of bursting free of its banks. Now she had to make a try for shore before she was completely swept away. She tightened her grip on his shoulders and stiffened her spine.

  Clay kissed her twice more, the shorter kisses of closure. He drew her tighter into his arms and held her for a moment before he spoke. “We’d better start back toward home. I promised the children I’d have a late breakfast with them.” His eyes were troubled.

  “I know,” Connor said. “They talked about this weekend every afternoon. I did promise them you’d ride for them.”

  “And I will.” He moved his thumb across her cheekbone and held her for another moment. “Connor …”

  “This shouldn’t have happened,” she said. At the memory, she could barely catch her breath. “Clay, if I’m going to stay here, this absolutely can’t happen again.”

  “I’m not certain that’s what I want.” His arm tightened around her waist. “I’ve never met a woman like you, Connor.

  She put her hand on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his muscle, the leanness of his arm. “If I’m to stay, we can’t behave this way. It won’t work.”

  “You have to stay, Connor. The children need you.” He picked up a strand of her hair, his fingers testing the texture. “I won’t make a promise I can’t keep, but I’ll try. I’m attracted to you, very much. You’re strong and honest. Danny tells me things about you. Little things that make me understand how good you are to them.” He kissed her ear lightly. “And you’re more beautiful than you know.”

  Connor tightened her grip on the horse’s reins. She could feel the leather twisting in her hand. It had to end here, now, or she’d have to leave. She was suddenly very frightened. For the first time in her life, she couldn’t resist a man. “Friends, Clay—that’s what we have to be if I’m going to stay.” An edge of panic touched her voice.

  “What is it, Connor?”

  She backed away from him, holding up a hand to warn him away. “You have to promise that we won’t do this. I can’t.” She shook her head.

  Clay made no attempt to move toward her. “Are you afraid of me, or of yourself?”

  “A little of both,” she answered. “Do I have your word?”

  “You’re a remarkable woman, Connor Tremaine,” he said. “I can’t make you that promise. I can only promise that I’d never press you. If you say friends, then it’s friends.”

  She nodded slowly. “It’s friends.”

  “We’d better get back to the house.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The flames danced around the hardwood log as Connor snuggled into the pillows on the floor. She had a fireplace in her suite, but she’d opted for the big library—and Willene’s helpful suggestions whenever the older woman found a moment to stick her head in the door.

  Connor had come up with the idea for a little Halloween adventure at Oaklawn. She’d been listening to Willene tell stories of the time when Clay and Harlan were boys and their parents had invited children from all over the county for a hayride and ghost stories. Connor wasn’t so certain about the ghost stories, but she wanted to plan something special for Renata and Danny. She was almost within touching distance of Renata. Almost, but not quite. The child eluded her in some way. Danny was another matter. He and Connor had formed a tentative relationship. They shared things with each other, and the young boy was a quick study on a horse.

  “What about a magic show?” Willene asked as she brought a tray of steaming coffee and home-baked pumpkin cookies into the room.

  Connor was glad to see two cups. She slapped a book closed and added it to the pile beside her on the floor. “There are a lot of good ideas in the books, but I don’t want to do anything the least bit frightening. Renata …”

  “Is doing wonderfully!” Willene broke in. “She’s a different girl, Connor. She is. It may seem like slow progress to you, but there is a difference in that child. When you leave, you can take the knowledge that you saved the child’s life.”

  “She’s a bit happier, but there are times when I look at her and I can see that she’s suffering. Her face goes all blank, and then she gets angry.” Connor sighed and stretched her legs across the pattern of the beautiful Oriental carpet. “She’ll have to get over it before she can move on with her life.”

  “And she will. Now about Halloween: will Clay be here?”

  That was the question. Connor hadn’t had a moment alone with him since their ride in the woods. She still woke in the middle of the night to the feel of his lips on hers. Her dreams were unsettling, unnerving. “I haven’t heard Mr. Sumner’s plans,” she said casually.

  “The children say he’ll be here. I thought maybe he’d discussed it with you.”

  “No.” Connor bit into a cookie, savoring the moist pumpkin and spice taste. “If he hears about these cookies, he’ll be here.”

  “He hasn’t been around for several weeks.” Willene pushed her glasses up her nose and looked at Connor. “There’s nothing wrong between the two of you, is there?”

  “What could be wrong?” Connor felt the guilt creep up into her face.

  “I thought maybe Mr. Clay had made a play for you.” Willene tilted her head slightly, unabashedly assessing Connor. “He does those things without thinking about the consequences. Doesn’t think that maybe he could put an employee in a bad position.”

  “Clay would never make sexual favors part of the terms of employment.” Connor was shocked at Willene’s suggestion.

  “Not exactly like that,” Willene refused to back down. “Clay’s a good-looking man. He expects it to come to him without much effort. That’s a blessing and a curse, a blessing and a curse.”

  Connor sipped her coffee, concentrating on keeping the cup steady as she returned it to the tray. “What exactly are you telling me, Willene?”

  “Don’t confuse your, duties here. When you first came here, I knew you were a smart woman. Nobody’s fool, that’s exactly what I said to myself. I didn’t think you’d be like some of the others that’s been around. Not paid employees exactly, if you know what I mean. They come for a few months and then they’re gone. Never for long enough to put down a permanent stake. Never with the children present. You were different. You had a skill and talent, and you were getting paid handsomely for them.”

  There was a long pause. Connor could hear the breath she drew in. “And now, has your opinion of me changed?”

  “Not a bit, but I see that you’re not immune to Mr. Clay, either. He can heat a woman up in a hurry, and no point denying that. I just got it in my mind that maybe he made a play for you and there were some words exchanged. Now, that would be a unique experience for Clay Sumner.” Willene chuckled as if she could visualize the scene. “That would set that man back on his ass in a hurry.”

  “I can assure you that Clay and I haven’t exchanged harsh words.” Quite the contrary, as Connor remembered it: they’d shared one hell of a passionate kiss.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you, Connor. I was just wondering. He’s been scarce, and the kids keep asking for him. I thought maybe I’d found the reason.”

  “Why don’t yo
u call him and see if he’ll be out for Halloween?” Connor suggested.

  “Maybe I will. We might need his help.”

  “A magic show?” Connor turned the conversation back to the party. “Now, that might work. Clay would make an excellent magician, and we could all assist him.”

  “I’ll make that call,” Willene said, “tomorrow morning. No point calling tonight, because if he’s breathin’, he’s out with some woman. Since Ms. Talla died, he doesn’t miss a night out.”

  If Willene’s intention was to make Connor feel that Clay had more women than time to service them all, she’d been very successful. “Call in the morning. I’ve had enough research for tonight, and I’m going to bed.”

  She picked up the books and slid them back into their places on the shelves. “This is a wonderful room. Some of the books are first editions in beautiful condition.”

  “There was a time when it wasn’t so convenient to ride into town to find something at the local library. Old man Sumner, that’s Clay’s granddaddy, set great store by reading. He bought most of the books, but each Sumner has added to them.”

  Connor hadn’t spent a great deal of time studying literature, but she knew enough to know the collection of contemporary fiction had been chosen with care. There were also at least thirty volumes on local history. Strangely, though, the one book written about the outlaw James Dickerson, a very controversial book, according to Willene, was absent.

  “I think the magic show is a great idea. And tomorrow, I think I may go down to the main library for some more research.”

  “Good. Then you can pick up a few special things for me. If we’re going to have a party, I’m going to need some things.”

  Connor’s smile was wide and genuine. “The children are going to adore this. I get the feeling that there haven’t been a lot of special events for them.”

  “Not since their mother died, and Ms. Talla wasn’t exactly the kind of mother who liked a ruckus. She was quiet, distant—more of a reserved woman, you’d say.”

  Connor slid the last book back into place on the shelf. Why had Clay Sumner married such a woman? Family? Refinement? Connections for his political ambitions? Or love?”

  “Connor?”

  Willene’s voice brought her back to the library. “Yes?”

  “Jeff is staying out at the barn for a few nights. He says someone’s been hanging around the property for the past few days. Couldn’t get a good look at ‘em, but he wants to see if he can catch ‘em. If you see something, it’s probably him.”

  “Thanks.” Connor followed Willene out of the room. “Has anything been stolen?”

  “No. Not yet. It isn’t good, though, for strangers to be snoopin’ around Mr. Sumner’s place. When Ms. Talla died, those reporters were crawling out of the shrubbery. Now we don’t like for folks to sneak around at all. Used to be Mr. Clay didn’t care about locals fishing in the lakes or walking in the woods. That’s all changed, though. No trespassing, and he prosecutes.”

  “With livestock around, that’s the best policy,” Connor agreed. She and Willene were at the kitchen. The hallway ahead of her tunneled into darkness. Long-dead Sumners hung in portraits and photographs. Clay had jokingly referred to it as the rogues’ gallery. Like most old portraits, though, the occupants bore extremely serious expressions, not anything even resembling roguish smiles. Connor suddenly thought of Sally and her fear of the hallway and stairs.

  “I haven’t seen Sally’s smiling face today. Is she ill?”

  Willene snorted. “Sick from staying out all last night with Jeff. Keeping watch, she called it. I call it snooping, and the quickest way I know for her to get in serious trouble. Jeff may bed her, but he won’t marry her if she gets herself in the family way.”

  “Maybe I should talk with her. I mean about birth control.”

  Willene’s eyes behind her thick glasses were unreadable. “It’s a kind offer. Maybe you should. The girl is moony-eyed over Jeff. No telling what schemes are ricocheting between her ears. Men never marry a woman they’ve bedded. She don’t believe me when I tell her that. But it’s always been a fact that a man won’t buy the cow when he can get the milk free.”

  “I’ll talk with her, then. Goodnight.” Connor stepped down the hallway, realizing that Sally’s fear had rubbed off on her. Even on the brightest days the hallway was dim. And the portraits were so foreboding. The ornate mirrors along the walls only captured the dour expressions and reflected them back. She didn’t linger as she hurried to her room.

  Connor couldn’t decide whether it was the thunder or her overactive subconscious which made her sit bolt upright in the bed. She was straining, listening. For what? The windowpanes rattled with the force of the thunder.

  Slipping out of the warm bed, she padded on bare feet across the oak boards to the large windows. She loved her bedroom. She had a view of the pecan orchard and the barn. Lightning popped behind the barn, illuminating the entire area for a split second. The rain hadn’t started yet, and Connor pressed her hand against the pane to stop the trembling brought about by the thunder.

  The giggle was unexpected.

  She heard it, seeping softly under the door of her room. Or was it outside?

  No one had reason to be wandering past her door so late at night. Since the children were in town, no one else was even staying on the second floor. Willene preferred living on the first floor, beside her domain, the kitchen. Sally lived with her relatives down the road, and Jeff stayed at the barn, when he stayed.

  Lightning played once more across the sky, a magnificent three-pronged attack that showed the pecan trees twisting in a powerful wind. Maybe if the storm blew through, the sun would be out in the morning.

  When the giggle came again, Connor went to the door of her suite and pressed her ear against it. The hall was so quiet. She could feel her pulse in her throat, a sensation brought about by fear. Who would be outside her door laughing?

  No one she wanted to meet.

  Still, she forced the lock open and eased the door wide so that she could see the landing and the stairs. There was nothing except the creaks and moans of an old house fighting the push of the wind.

  Connor closed and locked the door and went back to her bedroom. Maybe she’d imagined it. It was possible that she’d been dreaming and the giggle was a part of the dream she’d brought forward with her to a waking state.

  Possible, but not likely.

  Her feet were freezing on the cold floor. Any moment the rain would begin to fall. Even as she thought, the first drop spattered against the glass. Connor was drawn to the window once more.

  A sudden movement among the gray pecan trunks caught her eye. Someone dashed behind a tree in the orchard. It was during one of the lightningless moments, she had a glimpse of movement only. Perhaps a slender person.

  Like Sally.

  As soon as she thought it, she realized that if Sally was rendezvouzing with Jeff, she might well be giggling. Connor sighed. She’d have to have a talk with the girl as soon as possible, before it was too late.

  She went back to her bed, sliding beneath the warm sheets and the quilts Willene had piled on.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Connor remained hidden beneath the large dining room table. To her left she could see a pair of shiny men’s shoes, black leather, expensive. There was the swish of tuxedo pants as the legs walked in front of her.

  “And now, for the young lady, a flower!”

  Renata’s giggle was reward enough for Connor, even though she couldn’t see the child’s face. As Clay paused again, she handed up the cane that she’d loaded with the scarves. There was another round of applause as Clay, in the role of magician, produced the multicolored wisps of material.

  Willene had draped the table with several sheets as a backdrop for Clay the Magnificent, but it was actually to give Connor a place to hide while she worked as magician’s assistant. Her role, by her own insistence, was strictly behind the scenes.

  Renata and
Danny had chosen not to go trick-or-treating in town. Instead, they’d come to Oaklawn. As Danny had so succinctly pointed out, there was no way they were going to get anything better in their Halloween sacks than Willene’s homemade cookies.

  The tricks she and Clay had perfected were all juvenile, but with some dim lighting and a bit of showmanship on Clay’s part, they were coming off well. She could hear Sally clapping and whistling, too. Connor grinned to herself. Sally had denied being in the pecan orchard in the middle of a storm with Jeff, but she’d taken Connor’s advice about birth control to heart. Even though she swore she wasn’t sleeping with Jeff—and accused Willene of spying on her—she had her first gynecologist’s appointment set for the next week. Connor had agreed to accompany her.

  There was a stomping of feet and applause, and Connor knew the magic show was over. According to plan, Willene herded the spectators into the kitchen for cocoa and cookies so that Connor could crawl out from under the table.

  Just to be on the safe side, she eased out the back of the table and raised her eyes to table level, scanning the room.

  “You can come out,” Clay said softly. He stepped forward and closed the door. “You were wonderful, Connor. Thanks.”

  “It sounded like you were a big hit.” Feeling a bit undignified, Connor crawled out from under the table and stood up. She was grinning widely.

  Clay laughed, his blue eyes more carefree than they’d been since Connor had met him. “The kids enjoyed it. And so did I. I guess I have enough of the ham in me to love being center stage, even as a cornball magician.”