Wherever the hell that was.
Easy? Had he really said that he thought this was going to be easy?
The kiss ended as abruptly as it had flowered, with a mutual pulling back of bodies and lips. Shaken down to their toes, John and Courtney stared at each other in silence. Both had been stunned into speechlessness. Both were worried as hell.
If her heart raced any harder, it was going to leap out of her chest.
“Think that satisfied them?” Was that hoarse voice really coming out of her mouth?
“Ought to.” John had to concentrate to push out each word. It wasn’t easy. He was too busy concentrating on her. On how her cheeks were suddenly glowing. And how the outline of her mouth was blurred.
If he ran his tongue along his lips, he could still taste her. He stopped suddenly. It wouldn’t have been wise to continue.
Though Rick was leading, Mandy managed to maneuver them toward Courtney and John as they danced. Passing them, Mandy inclined her head toward Courtney. “Wow, sure you’ve got enough fire insurance, Court?” Her eyes glowed with amusement, as well as envy. “For a minute there, I thought we were going to have to turn the hose on you two.”
John’s eyes shifted toward Rick. Rick was grinning at him, as if he’d just vicariously experienced Courtney’s kiss himself.
There was no way to vicariously experience this, John thought. The imagination would only pale everything in comparison.
He nodded toward the dance floor. “Keep dancing,” John instructed.
“You, too, old friend.” Rick looked as if his face was going to split. His glance took them both in before settling on John. “You, too.”
As fast as I can, John thought.
“Maybe I’d better see to Katie,” he murmured, slipping away from Courtney.
She nodded. Every part of her body had gone numb. Except for her lips. They were throbbing.
“Maybe you’d better,” she agreed.
A moment later, their short conversation was a blur. She only vaguely remembered talking to him. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing alone on the dance floor.
What the hell had just happened here?
With effort, she collected herself. She had guests to see to. And a wedding reception to host. For now, that was enough to keep her busy.
If she was lucky, her lips would eventually stop throbbing.
“And this,” Courtney said, opening the door to the bedroom, “is where you’ll sleep.”
She paused, watching Katie’s face for her reaction. Wanting to make the transition from one home to another as easy as possible for the little girl, Courtney. had called in a decorator who specialized in children’s rooms. She’d offered the woman triple her fee if she could have the room ready in less than a week. The decorator had finished the job with a day to spare.
Money, Courtney thought, always worked miracles. After all, it had bought her a child as well as a husband. Two for the price of one.
Katie peered into the room, too awestruck to enter. “It’s pink,” she breathed in wonder.
Very gently, Courtney placed her hand on Katie’s back and ushered the little girl into the room. “Yes, I know. Your favorite color.”
John was close behind. Too close, in Courtney’s estimation, but that was something she was going to have to learn how to deal with. Turning, she saw the surprise on his face.
“You remembered?”
Courtney shrugged, looking away. She didn’t quite trust herself to look at him for more than a moment just yet. The reception had been over for less than half an hour, and Gabriel had quickly changed into something far more his speed, jeans and a casual green pullover shirt. He looked more comfortable dressed this way. And far more comfortable than she felt.
She’d changed into shorts and a tank top. There was no honeymoon to rush off to. She didn’t think the charade had to be carried that far.
It was bad enough carrying it as far as she was.
“It wasn’t that difficult a feat,” she finally answered Gabriel. Courtney smiled down at Katie. It was a lot easier talking to her. And a great deal less stressful. “Pink was my favorite color as a kid, too.”
“I’m glad,” Katie piped up. “That makes us more alike.”
Not hardly, John thought. He watched his daughter as Katie walked around the room. It was three times as large as her own bedroom and it certainly looked like a little girl’s idea of heaven. There were toys and books everywhere. There was even a television set with its own VCR.
The mark of the affluent, John mused sarcastically.
But what really caught his eyes was the tall Victorian dollhouse standing on the floor beside the window seat. It was the only thing in the room that didn’t look as if it had just come straight out of a box. Curious, John crossed to the dollhouse and examined it.
He was right—it wasn’t new. Moreover, it appeared to be handmade. Looking at it more closely, he saw rough edges, and there were places where pieces didn’t quite fit. The paint was slightly faded and here and there tiny chips were missing. Bare wood peered out from beneath.
It looked completely out of step with the rest of the room and yet, somehow, it was the focal point. The lady was a bit more complex than he’d thought.
John raised a quizzical brow as he glanced in Courtney’s direction.
Courtney could feel her hackles rising. He would zero in on that.
“It was mine,” she explained guardedly. If he said one disparaging word about the dollhouse, she’d make sure he regretted it. “My father gave it to me for my fifth birthday. There were other presents, but this was the one I loved the best.” Coming closer, she ran her hand along the gabled roof. “He made it for me. Building things was a hobby of his. Mother said he worked on this for six months.”
He wondered if she knew that her eyes softened when she looked at the dollhouse. Probably not.
John nodded, studying the work. “It shows.” Touching the door with the tip of his finger, he found that it still worked. He closed the tiny door. “Actually, it shows more than that.”
“Oh?” An edge entered her voice. Here it came, the mighty carpenter critiquing the layman’s effort. Courtney braced herself, placing a hand on the roof.
His eyes met hers. She seemed ready to go at it at the drop of a hat. “It shows love.”
The wind seeped out of her sails. All right, she allowed, so maybe he did have a nice bone or two in his body.
“Yes, it does,” Courtney agreed tersely. He clearly knew that she’d been ready to jump down his throat. Embarrassed, she turned toward Katie. “So, do you like your new room?”
She was prepared to bring in another decorator if Katie found something wanting. That was the way her father had handled all her complaints. With a checkbook and a battery of experts.
And love, Courtney reminded herself. Lots of love. No check could have ever covered that.
Katie turned around, taking one long, panoramic look. “It’s wonderful.” She turned her face up to Courtney. “Can I sleep here?”
“Of course. And play here,” Courtney assured her. She noticed that Gabriel seemed to be hovering over the little girl, as if he was afraid that she was going to do something he didn’t want her to. He’d been like that at the reception, as well. What was he worried about? Why didn’t he give the child some room to breathe?
Courtney sat down on the canopied bed and patted the space beside her, looking at Katie. Quick to respond, Katie wiggled up on the bed and sat down next to her. Amused by the open, sweet face, Courtney couldn’t resist putting her arm around Katie’s shoulders. She missed the look that passed over Gabriel’s face.
“We can move all your things in here in the morning.” Courtney looked at Gabriel. “Yours, too, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed her tone and earned a frown for his effort.
Katie looked at her eagerly. “My bed, too?”
She’d been assured that the bed she had purchased for Katie was the very be
st that money could buy. It was a lot like the one she’d slept in at Katie’s age. Courtney glanced up at the canopy.
“Don’t you like this bed?”
Like an adult, Katie was quick to soothe any ruffled feathers. “It’s a very pretty bed, but my daddy made the one in my room. My old room,” she amended.
The child was a born diplomat. Courtney smiled, feathering her hand over the silken head. She knew adults who possessed less finesse and thoughtfulness.
“We’ll have your bed in here by tomorrow afternoon. Okay?”
Katie beamed, pleased and relieved. “Okay.”
That settled, she scooted off the bed to take one final inventory of the room’s treasures.
Katie was examining the contents of the mahogany toy box. That left them alone on the other side of the room. Feeling suddenly awkward, Courtney rose.
“So.” She brushed off her hands, though there was nothing there to brush off. Courtney dropped them to her side. “I guess that’s it for the tour.” She stepped into the hall, expecting Gabriel to follow. Pointing, she indicated the next room down the hall. “That’s your room.”
The light caught in her hair, flashing a bright red and green. John smiled. When they’d left the church, her friends had thrown confetti instead of rice. Some of it was still in her hair. Without thinking, he reached over and gently extricated it.
He was going to kiss her again. Her breath catching in her throat, Courtney backed away.
She looked like a deer frozen in the headlights of an oncoming car. Why? Was she afraid of him? Or something else?
John opened his hand and showed her the confetti he’d taken from her hair. Embarrassment flashed over her face. The pink hue was oddly arousing. Or maybe it was the vivid memory of the kiss at the reception. No matter what he thought of her, it was going to take him a while to work that through his system.
“And your room?” he asked. “In case someone asks me.”
Unable to remain standing so close to him any longer, Courtney began to move down the hall. “No one’ll ask. Everyone in the house knows where my room is.”
Courtney laced her fingers together, damning herself for feeling so fidgety. There was absolutely no reason to feel like a ball of yarn that had gone tumbling down the hill, unraveling with each revolution.
No reason at all. She could buy and sell him a hundred times over.
Once seemed to be more than enough.
She stopped before her room. “If you must know, this is it. The rooms are adjoining. We share the bathroom and dressing area.” She gestured toward the space in between. “I suggest locking the door when you’re using either of them.”
He didn’t care for the habit she had of issuing orders. “Don’t worry.” She was obviously uncomfortable with the entire arrangement. He would have thought her too sophisticated to be this edgy. “I assume you’ve seen a naked man before.”
He was enjoying this, wasn’t he? She wasn’t paying him to enjoy himself, just to serve a purpose.
“Only when I’ve wanted to,” she replied crisply. So don’t hold your breath. Courtney pressed her lips together. There was nothing left to be said. “Well, good night.”
“Good night.” He inclined his head, taking his leave. And then he added, “One day down, seven hundred and twenty-nine to go.”
She stared at him, surprised. She knew why this arrangement felt so intolerable for her, but he should have been reveling in it, in being thrust into the lap of luxury. “You counted?”
“I counted.” There was a hint of mocking in his expression. “After all, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”
Her eyes narrowed. Her discomfort left, chased away by annoyance. “Don’t worry, there’s no chance of that. I’ll tell you when to go—and where.”
He laughed as the fire entered her eyes. This was more like it. “I’ve no doubts of that. No doubts at all.”
Turning abruptly, she slammed her door behind her, then leaned against it, glaring.
Bastard What right did he have to mock her? He’d never had it so good.
It took more than a moment for Courtney to get a grip on her fury. It was amazing how Gabriel could find exactly the right buttons to push with apparently no effort at all.
She bit her lip. His taste came back to her. Even after all this time and two glasses of champagne, she could still taste him. If she closed her eyes, she could even smell him, that light, spicy scent. Realizing that left her more shaken than angry.
This was never going to work.
Finally, common sense began to seep in, quelling the fire in her breast.
It had to work, she told herself. It was working already. Parsons appeared to be completely taken in at the reception. He even said something about sending them a wedding gift now that he had witnessed the ceremony. Watching her hang on Gabriel’s arm, the old curmudgeon obviously thought she had finally gotten serious.
And she was. Serious about keeping what was morally hers. And it wasn’t as if they weren’t married. They were. She had the paper—and the thorn in her side, she thought, glancing moodily behind her at the door—to prove it.
Courtney drew in a long breath and then let it out again slowly. They were just going to have to find a way to get along for the next two years.
Or, barring that, interact as little as possible.
Out of sight, out of mind. Courtney laughed softly to herself. That was probably the best way to go. She knew plenty of marriages where the parties involved saw each other only a handful of times a month. It certainly cut down on the arguments.
It didn’t do a hell of a lot for their love life, of course; but then, she wasn’t in this for a love life.
And neither was Gabriel. All he wanted was the money. The thought left her vaguely angry, though she didn’t understand why. There was no reason to be angry. At least they both knew where their priorities were. No lies, no pretenses other than the one they displayed for the world.
Not like with Andrew, she thought ruefully. Andrew Beaudeaux, tall, dark and handsome, blessed with a silver tongue and hypnotic blue eyes. Andrew, who had professed to adore the ground she walked on. She’d been so head over heels in love with him, it had taken her longer than it should have to realize that he only worshipped the ground she walked on only as long as she walked in designer originals across country club terrain.
And after Andrew, there’d been Derrick Evans. Different name, different face, same goals, same motivation. Same small, mercenary souls.
Twice burned, she’d put away the matches and decided to live for the moment To enjoy herself without any thought to having a future with her companion of choice. Her companion of the moment. They rarely lasted longer than a few weeks. No men were worth heartache. And they certainly weren’t worth feeling inadequate about herself.
There was a great deal more to her than just a bankbook or an estate, she thought fiercely. But she no longer cared about trying to get that point across. And certainly not to the likes of John Gabriel.
Courtney ran her hand along the back of her neck, wishing herself two years into the future and out of this situation her father had placed her in.
A fragment of a memory floated through her mind, whispering seductively. Her fingertips feathered along the back of her neck, just as Gabriel’s had this afternoon at the reception.
Just before he had kissed her.
They’d kissed each other, she thought stubbornly, forcing the air back into her lungs. And she had given as good as she’d got—after Gabriel had gotten off the first salvo.
Funny how she thought of the kiss in terms of a declaration of war, or an act of aggression. It hadn’t felt like that actually. Not if she really thought about it.
It had felt…
Courtney could feel her blood heating as it flowed through her veins.
No, she wasn’t going to do that to herself. It would be playing right into his hands. He could act highhanded about the situation and mock her, but she knew be
tter. She saw through him just as she had eventually seen through the others. There was just one main difference. She wasn’t in love with Gabriel, the way she had been with Andrew and then Derrick. With the ex ception of her mother and father, she didn’t believe in love anymore.
Annoyed with herself, with her father and, most of all, with Gabriel, Courtney walked out of her room again. She needed some air.
The door to Katie’s room was still standing wide open, its light mingling with the light in the hall. She could hear Gabriel’s voice. He was talking to his daughter.
No, she thought, listening. He was reading to her. Gabriel must have picked up one of the storybooks from the bookshelf.
Courtney turned to go to the other stairway, then stopped. The deep, rhythmic cadence of Gabriel’s voice as he read to his child drew her in as surely as if she were a fish being reeled in by a first-class fisherman.
Courtney approached the room quietly, not wanting to intrude or make her presence known. She stopped just shy of the door and listened.
Recognition was instantaneous. The Cat in the Hat.
A soft, fond smile spread on her lips. Her father had read the same story to her.
Without realizing it, Courtney leaned against the wall and wrapped her arms around herself. A sense of incredible peace descended over her. She could remember lying in her bed with her father sitting on the chair beside her. He read to her every night. His deep, rumbly voice made the words sound as if they were engraved in time-worn stone.
Memories drifted back. Warm, treasured memories.
She’d been much happier then, she realized with a pang. Genuinely happy instead of this phony jet-setting happiness she’d talked herself into.
Back then she had known who loved her, who mat tered. Honesty wasn’t something she had to go looking for. It had been a part of her life every day. Just as her father had been.
She realized that she hadn’t really felt safe and warm since her father had died.
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