Aunt Julia was a wily old bird. She'd brought Brandy as a warning. And Rick thought he understood what she was hinting at.
Brandy was a symbol of the women there'd been in Rick's life. Some had been more beautiful, most had been more elegant, but they'd all been Brandys in the end. She was a woman who made her living being used by men. And what had he ever done but use women?
He took a long sip of wine and went through his usual rationalizations. After all, could he help it if women seemed to like him? He was handsome, wealthy, could be charming when he felt like it. Why shouldn't women like him? And why shouldn't he enjoy that attraction? In their own way, they were using him just as much as he was using them.
He glanced at Terry as she served the wine. Why was he so convinced that she was different from the other women his life had been cluttered with? What drew his interest in a way it hadn't been drawn for years?
Partly, of course, it was because she didn't seem tempted by the things most women liked about him. She wasn't throwing him flirtatious glances. In fact, she hardly ever looked his way. She was so intent upon being the perfect butler.
He smiled as he watched her, and a warm feeling filled his chest. There was something about her that seemed to open up his life to new experiences, to new feelings that he'd never had before.
“She cares,” he thought. “She really cares.”
Was that what was changing him?
Because he was changing. Just before dinner he'd done something he'd never done before. Jeremy had come to him with a brightly wrapped birthday present and he'd opened it, joking with everyone as he tore apart the paper. And there inside had been that raggedy koala bear Jeremy loved.
Rick had stared at the little bear and frowned. He was aware, as he'd never been before in his life, that what he did next had the capacity to hurt someone or make someone happy.
He'd looked up slowly into his son's wide, waiting eyes. “Thank you, Jeremy,” he'd said gravely. “I never had my own koala bear before.”
Jeremy smiled, and that smile had given Rick a jolt of warmth smoother than butter-laced rum. “I know,” his son said shyly.
Rick had picked up the bear and given it a quick hug. “This is just what I've always wanted. But I need someone to take care of him for me. Who do you think could do that?”
“I could,” Jeremy piped up happily. “I could take care of him and you could come and get him whenever you need him.”
“Good idea,” Rick replied, handing the bear back to Jeremy. The boy stood looking up at him, eyes shining. And then he did something he’d never done before, something that had always seemed too awkward, too unnatural for him to do. He leaned down and kissed his son’s round cheek.
He mused over the incident. He could remember having done things, having been manipulative, in order to make someone like him or do what he wanted, or just for the hell of it. But he couldn't remember having been wary of what he said just because he was being careful of the feelings of another human being. A whole new series of possibilities stretched before him.
Brandy held her glass out for her third refill, let out a piercing laugh, and brought Rick back to the present to realize he was being spoken to.
“We were so glad to be able to join your little celebration. Why, Max and I have known you forever, Rick,” Mrs. Granger was saying, smiling about the table a little uncertainly. Things were not quite what she was used to and she was having trouble getting a fix on the situation. But at the same time, she was trying her best to make polite conversation.
“Yes,” Max chimed in a little too heartily. “You always were a rascal as a little one, chasing the peacocks all over our yard.” He chuckled. “They'd spread their bright tails and you'd run after them, roaring like a young lion.”
Brandy was having a fine time and enjoying the wine. She giggled at what Max had said. “Things haven't changed much, I'll bet,” she said blurrily, winking broadly at Rick. “It may be girls instead of birds, but you're still chasing—”
“Do you still have those peacocks?” Rick said quickly to the Grangers. “I remember the way they screamed. Their cries gave me nightmares.”
Brandy was still laughing at her own joke. She aimed an elbow at Rick, meaning to give him a companionable jab in the ribs, but unfortunately her eyesight had suffered from the wine and she hit a water glass instead, sending the contents shooting across the table.
“Oops,” she said, and giggled again.
“No problem,” Rick assured her.
“That's what butlers are for,” Terry murmured for him alone as she bent over the table with a dry cloth to sop up the mess.
Aunt Julia hardly seemed to notice the commotion. She went on talking to Erica and Jeremy as though everything were normal.
But the Grangers were becoming a bit concerned. First they'd been confronted with Brandy in Day-Glo green anklets and a rhinestone-covered mini-skirt. Then the female butler. Now Brandy was getting tipsy. The Grangers began looking over their shoulders, ready to run for their car.
Terry bent near Rick again to finish cleaning up the spilled water. She wasn't wearing perfume, but he caught a wonderful scent, warm and very feminine as she brushed his shoulder. He had the sudden urge to bury his face against her, to close his eyes and breathe deep.
“Behave,” she whispered near his ear as she bent to pick up a dropped napkin. “Or I’ll stick you with the carving knife.”
He grinned. He hadn’t meant to make his feelings quite that obvious. So he turned to his aunt and asked a few family related questions, just to get people off the track.
“I’m sure you stopped in to see some of my cousins on your way over here,” he said. “What’s new with the Carrington clan?”
“Well…” Aunt Julia looked as though she was glad he’d asked. “I did go down by the embarcadero. I wanted to take a look at Jennifer’s new shop, The Magnificent Munch 2. Adorable place. I’m sure she’ll do wonders with it.” She took a sip of wine. “But more to the point, she’s about to deliver!”
“Pizza?” Rick said, smart aleck-like.
“No, dear. She and Reid are having a pair of babies. Didn’t you know?”
Reid was his cousin, Jennifer his cousin’s recent bride, but a girl he’d known all his life. He grinned. “What else is new? The girls Matt and Grant married are almost as fertile. We’re getting a whole passel of new Carringtons in one fell swoop. The town ought to think about outlawing more Carrington children, just out of a basic sense of self-defense.”
“Nonsense. We Carringtons make this town what it is.” But she laughed when she said it, and the visitors didn’t take offense.
“You know what we've forgotten to do,” Julia said suddenly to the entire table. “Let down the chandelier.” She turned to Mrs. Granger by way of explanation. “My father had it custom-made, you know, for parties, back in the Roaring Twenties. It lets down from the ceiling and there's a little motor...”
Terry and Rick were no longer listening. Their eyes met and they both repeated, in unison, “ 'When a party comes, I'm out to play'!”
Laughing, Rick rose and reached for the switch that activated the chandelier. There was a sound of grinding gears as the huge contraption began to lower, and as it came down, confetti showered the table, along with paper party hats and colorful noisemakers. And along with them, another clue on a large white cone of paper.
Rick grabbed it and read aloud, “ 'Look under your pillow, birthday boy.'” He grinned at Terry. “Come on, let's go.”
He'd taken her by the hand and started for the door before he realized she was resisting.
“I can't go,” she hissed at him desperately. “I'm the butler. Remember?”
“Oh.” He looked back at the shocked faces all around the table, not letting go of her hand. “It's my birthday present from Johnny.” He waved the paper cone at them. “It's waiting in my room and...”
He moved closer, talking conspiratorially. “Between you and me, it's safer to take p
rotection at this time of night. There could be a burglar on the stairs. Or someone hiding under my bed.” He glanced from one face to the next. The Grangers looked as though they were convinced Mar Vista had been converted into a nuthouse.
“Listen, anything can happen.” Rick added. “Why I found a girl in my closet yesterday. You can't be too careful.” He winked, grinned, and turned for the door.
And the next thing Terry knew, she was being escorted into his bedroom. Rick was whistling “Happy Birthday to me” under his breath, but he stopped as they came to his bed. He put his hand on the pillow and looked at her.
“Here's your last chance,” he told her archly. “I'll throw away anything Johnny might have cooked up without even looking—if you tell me to.”
She met his gaze, then looked quickly away. “Are you crazy?” she murmured. “I'm as curious as you are. Pull up the pillow.”
Counting to three, he did just that, and beneath, finally, was his birthday card.
It was huge. Rick picked it up, flipped it open, and caught the folded bit of hair and plastic that fell out, reading quickly, aloud, “ 'Hey, Rick. Have a good one. The wad of stuff that came inside this card is for you. Blow it up and you will find an exact representation of Angelina. She's waiting for you at the telephone number listed below. All you have to do is call, and she'll be with you in half an hour. Sweet dreams, cousin!'”
They both stared at the hairy plastic. “That's Angelina?” Terry asked skeptically.
Rick grinned, and without another wasted word began to blow on the little valve that stuck up from the plastic. First an arm appeared, then a leg, and, in no time at all, a fully representational woman. A very naked woman.
“Angelina,” Rick said gravely, “meet Terry Yardley.”
Terry shivered, making a face. “She gives me the creeps.”
Rick frowned reprovingly, covering Angelina's ears. “Don't say that in front of her. She has feelings, too, you know.”
“She's also got a lot of other stuff,” Terry muttered, wrinkling her nose. “Here.” She pulled off the cardigan sweater she was wearing over her blouse and handed it to Rick. “Cover her up.”
Rick dressed her and sat her down on the brocade-covered chair. “There,” he said cheerfully. “Now this is more like it. I knew Johnny wouldn't disappoint me. Isn't she lovely?”
Terry didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “Not very.” She turned to go back down. “I'd better get back...”
Rick was suddenly in her way, and when he caught her shoulders and pulled her against him, she went limp, too surprised to fight.
“You owe me a birthday kiss,” he murmured, running his hands lightly over her back.
His eyes were huge and she was drowning in their golden light. Her mouth opened to protest, but his lips were covering hers before she could get a word out. For just a moment, she couldn't resist him.
Hot as liquid metal, they seemed to fuse together, sharing breath, sharing a pulse that beat between them like an engine that couldn't be stopped.
The bed was right behind him. The lockable door was right behind her. Giving in to temptation seemed so terribly easy.
Finally she found the strength to break away, and when she did, fury filled the aching regret she couldn't force back.
“Damn you, Rick Carrington,” she cried, her hands balled into fists. “You have got to be the greediest man I've ever met!”
Her anger didn't provoke him. He smiled lazily, leaning back and watching her from beneath lowered lids. “I'll admit to being hungry for you,” he said softly. “But for the rest, I'll take the fifth.”
She shook with suppressed longing and hated herself for being so weak. “You know, this really is disgusting,” she snapped at him. “I mean, you've got women everywhere. You've got your aunt carting in females as though there was a sale on at the local five-and-dime. You've got your cousin procuring for you. I'll bet your friends at the country club are constantly trying to line you up with someone. Aren't they?”
His shrug was self-deprecatingly modest. “Well, sometimes...”
She threw her hands up in the air. “So what do you want with me, Rick Carrington?” She glared at him. “You've got all the women any normal man could deal with in a single lifetime. Leave me out of it!”
His eyes were dark with some emotion she couldn't identify. “Do you really mean that?” he asked softly.
She nodded vehemently. “Yes, I mean it. I want you to leave me alone.”
He stared at her for a long moment. Then he shrugged and turned away. “Okay,” he said shortly. “You got it.”
She hesitated, hardly believing her ears. “You mean... you'll stay away from me?”
He glanced back with a weary smile. “Sure. After all ...” He reached out and tapped Angelina on the top of her wigged head. “I've got Angelina to keep me warm.”
Terry backed slowly from the room, but Rick didn't look at her again. She'd won, she thought as she hurried down the hall to the stairway. She'd won. So why was it that she felt so overwhelmingly sad?
True to his word, Rick stayed away from her all the next day. Charles drove Aunt Julia, Brandy, and the children to the Danish village of Solvang for the day, so Terry was free to get some organizing taken care of, and to begin training Celia, the maid who'd just been hired.
She saw Rick face-to-face only once, when he was getting ready to leave the house. She hadn't seen him coming and almost ran into him at the bottom of the stairs when she was carrying the tea set down from Julia's sitting room.
“I'm going out,” he told her casually.
She looked into his face but there was no warmth in his eyes. He might have been a stranger.
“I see,” she said, and suddenly the tea cups were rattling on the tray, her hands were shaking so terribly. “When can we expect you to return?”
“I don't know.” He shrugged into the sport coat he'd been carrying. “I'll be at the country club if anyone needs me.”
She had a sudden vision of his friends lolling about in tennis whites, calling to him to come meet a new girl they'd found for him. The vision came with a flash of pain as sharp as the thrust of a knife and she winced, rattling the china again.
“I'll tell the others if they ask.” She was proud her voice was cool. But inside it was another story. Some awful emotion was raging. In a more objective mood, she might have recognized jealousy, but right now she didn't dare admit it, even to herself.
She watched him walk out to his car. He walked as silkily as he talked, all sinuous lines and liquid movements. “Too gorgeous for his own good,” she muttered as he drove away. She swallowed down the lump in her throat.
Rick got back in time for dinner with the others, a dinner which went smoothly. The children had taken a liking to Brandy and she spent hours telling them stories and playing charades, making them laugh. Terry was glad to see them so happy, but now and then she felt a twinge of envy even for this. She wanted the children to like her that way too.
Terry began to wonder if the pressure of her job might not be too much for her. She seemed to have lost all control of her common sense.
The children had been on her mind all day. She knew she had no place giving advice to the Carringtons, but there were some things she knew she couldn't remain silent about. She had to speak her piece, and so she waited to catch Rick when he was alone that evening, having a brandy over his papers in the library.
“Excuse me.” She knocked softly at the open door.
“Yes?”
Rick sat back in the shadows, his handsome face dark and expressionless.
“May I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course.”
She stepped in and launched before she looked into his face again, wanting to get it over quickly. “I have just one thing to say to you. I... I know it's none of my business, but... but I have to tell you what I think.”
He nodded slowly. “All right.”
She took a deep breath and then let
her words out all in a rush. “I think you should keep the children here with you for the rest of the summer. How else will you ever get to know them well enough for them to love you? Coming and going all the time—it's just not right. You're not an uncle, you're their father. You should be together, grow together, live together.” She shook herself. “And that's all I wanted to say,” she ended lamely, turning and leaving the room. He didn't call her back.
But at least she'd expressed her opinion. Now he could do what he pleased.
Breakfast the next morning was hectic. The children had to be fed and urged to hurry. Charles arrived with the limousine to drive them back to school but was kept waiting as Celia was nervous and knocked over the milk in the middle of the breakfast table, then dropped orange juice all over Erica's new dress. Terry went upstairs with Erica to help her pick out something else to wear.
“I'll miss you,” she told the girl.
“I'll probably be back in two weeks,” Erica responded without emotion.
Terry watched her carefully as she chose a cotton shirt from her well-supplied closet. “Do you like your school?”
There was a pause and then Erica looked into her face. “I don't like anything much,” she said coolly. “But at least at school everyone leaves me alone.”
Terry felt properly put in her place and she didn't say another word as she helped the children into the limousine and waved them off.
Rick came down to drive Brandy to the airport. Terry nodded when he told her his plans, busily working on her schedule, trying not to meet his gaze. He'd been cool to her for over twenty-four hours now, and she was growing more and more tense, waiting—for what she wasn't sure. She only knew something inside felt like a wire being pulled to the breaking point.
“Aunt Julia will be staying on,” Rick told her. “She'll handle the morning meetings from now on. You can meet with her in the library at nine.”
“Of course,” she said softly, risking a quick look at his face and regretting it. She'd asked to be treated as a real butler, and now she was getting exactly what she wanted. There was no sign in his eyes that he'd ever felt anything for her.
Promoted to Wife (Destiny Bay) Page 10
