Black Rose gt-2

by Nora Roberts

  He kissed her then, one last, desperate kiss before he plunged, and emptied.

  THE DOORS WEREclosed as they should be. The fire crackled and simmered. And the house was quiet, settled, and warm.

  She was cocooned with him in the center of the bed, allowing herself to enjoy the bliss and the glow. With very little effort, she could have drifted straight off to sleep.

  “Looks like she gave up,” Mitch commented.

  “Yes. For now, anyway.”

  “You were right about the fire. It’s nice. Very nice.”

  Then he rolled so that she was under him again, and he could look down at her face. “Being with you,” he began, then shook his head, touched his lips to hers. “Being with you.”

  “Yes.” Smiling, she stroked her fingers through his hair. “That’s very nice, too. I haven’t wanted to be with anyone in a very long time. You know, you’ve got good arms, for a scholar.” She gave his biceps a squeeze. “I like good arms. I don’t like to think I’m shallow, but I have to say it’s a pleasure being naked with a man who keeps in shape.”

  “I’ll change that to a woman, then say the same. The first time I met you, I stood and watched you walk away. You’ve got one excellent ass, Ms. Harper.”

  “It happens I do.” With a laugh, she gave his a light slap. “We’d better get dressed, go on down before everyone starts coming home.”

  “In a minute. It was your eyes that hooked me—hooked right through me.”

  “My eyes?”

  “Oh yeah. I thought maybe it was because they’re the color of good aged whiskey—and I did love a good whiskey. But that’s not it. It’s the way they look straight at me. Straight on. Fearless, and just a little regal.”

  “Please.”

  “Oh yeah, there’s lady of the manor in there, and it beats the hell out of me why it’s so sexy. Ought to be irritating, or intimidating at least. But for me, it’s just . . . stimulating.”

  “If that’s the case, I’m going to have to start wearing dark glasses so I don’t get you heated up at inappropriate times.”

  “Won’t matter a damn.” He gave her a light kiss, then shifted. Took her hand. “This mattered. This was important. There isn’t anyone else.”

  Her heart trembled a little, made her feel young and just a little foolish. “Yes, this mattered. This was important. There isn’t anyone else.”

  “Serious business,” he said, and drew her hand to his lips. “I’m going to start wanting you again, real soon.”

  She squeezed his hand. “We’ll have to see what we can do about that.”

  TWELVE

  ROZ FOLLOWED THEscent of coffee, and the noise, into the kitchen. The dreary gray rain had canceled her morning run, so she’d channeled the energy into three miles on her treadmill. It was an alternative that usually bored her senseless, but today she’d found herself singing along with commercial jingles during theToday show breaks.

  In the kitchen the baby was banging away on her high chair tray with the enthusiasm of a heavy metal drummer, and Stella’s boys were whining over their cereal.

  “Yes,” Stella announced with the snap of motherly frustration in her voice, “you both have to wear your raincoats, because I’m mean and bossy and I want you to be miserable.”

  “Wehate the raincoats,” Gavin informed her.

  “Really? That’s not what you said when you begged me to buy them.”

  “That was before.”

  Perhaps in sympathy, perhaps for the fun of it, Lily stopped banging her teething rattle and threw it—along with her mangled Zwieback. The eagle-eyed Parker fielded the Zwieback before it hit the floor, and the rattle landed with a solidplop in Luke’s bowl of Cap’n Crunch.

  Milk fumed up and over the rim of the bowl, causing Lily to scream in delight. In a chain reaction, Parker let out a spate of ear-piercing barks and did canine flips while Gavin doubled over in hysterics.

  Stella was quick, but for once Luke was quicker and had the rattle out of the bowl and tossed, dripping, into his brother’s lap.

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Stella grabbed a napkin with one hand and held up the other to block Gavin’s retaliation. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Hayley scooped up the bowl, more napkins as the boys shoved at each other.

  A calm in the storm, David walked over with a damp rag. “We’ll mop it up. Troublemaker,” he said to Lily, who answered him with a huge, crumby grin.

  Roz studied the chaos, and just beamed.

  “Morning,” she said and strolled in.

  Heads turned.

  “Roz?” Stella stared at her. “What are you doing here?”

  “Since I live here, I thought I’d come in and get myself a cup of coffee.” She bent down to brush a kiss over the top of Lily’s head. “Hello, boys. That baby’s got pretty good aim, doesn’t she? Two-pointed it right in the goal.”

  The idea was so intriguing the boys stopped fighting. “Do it again, Lily!” Luke tugged on his mother’s sleeve. “Give it back to her, Mom, so she can do it again.”

  “Not right now. You’ve got to finish up or you’ll be late for school.” She checked her watch and saw it was indeed just after eight, and a full hour after Roz was usually on her way out the door.

  “My cereal’s got baby spit in it now,” Luke complained.

  “You can have a muffin instead.”

  “Then I want a muffin.” Gavin shoved his cereal aside. “If he can have a muffin, I can have a muffin, too.”

  “Fine, fine.”

  “I’ll get them.” Hayley gestured Stella back. “Least I can do.”

  “Mmm, don’t they smell great?” Roz sniffed at the bowl filled with fresh apple muffins. She plucked one out for herself, then leaned back against the counter, her coffee in one hand, her muffin in the other. “Can’t be a better way to start the day. And look at that rain. Nothing like a good all-day soaker.”

  After Hayley passed out muffins, she bent close to Stella’s ear. “Somebody got her batteries charged.”

  Stella fought to swallow a snorting laugh. “We’ll be out of your way in a minute.”

  “No rush.” Roz bit into the muffin.

  “You’re usually gone, or finishing up before the invasion.”

  “Slept in a little today.”

  “That explains the bulletin I heard on the news this morning about hell freezing over.” David didn’t bother to hide the smirk as he brought the coffeepot over to top off Roz’s mug.

  “Aren’t you full of sass this morning.”

  “I’m not the only one full of something. How’d the . . . lasagna go over?”

  “Very well.” She gave him a bland look over the rim of her cup, and wondered if she was wearing a sign: Recently Got Laid.

  “You ought to have a nice big helping of it more often. Puts roses in your cheeks.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I could use a nice hot dish of lasagna myself,” Hayley commented. “Come on, baby doll, let’s get you cleaned up.” She took Lily out of the high chair.

  “You guys go up and get your things—including raincoats,” Stella ordered. “It’s almost time to go.”

  But she loitered another minute. “You want to ride over with me?” she asked Roz.

  “I guess I will.”

  STELLA WAITED UNTILthey were starting down the drive. By her calculations, swinging just a half a mile out of the way to drop Lily off at the babysitter’s should give them enough time.

  “We made a lot of progress on the painting last night. It’s going to be nice to have the dining room finished and put together by the wedding. I’d really like to have a dinner party once we’re set. David and all of us, Harper, my parents. Oh and Mitch, of course.”

  “That’d be nice.”

  “He’s around so much—Mitch, I mean—these days, he feels like part of the household.” At Roz’s noncommittalhmmm , Stella glanced in the rearview mirror to see Hayley rolling he
r eyes and giving get-to-it hand signals.

  “So . . . ah, did you and Mitch work on the project last night, or take advantage of the quiet house and just relax?”

  “Stella, why don’t you just ask me if I had sex with him instead of beating around the bush? Nothing I hate more than seeing a bush beat half to death.”

  “I was being subtle,” Stella replied.

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “I told her she didn’t have to lead up to everything,” Hayley said from the back. “Besides, we know you had sex. You’ve got that recently waxed and lubed look.”

  “God.”

  “Of course, it’s none of our business,” Stella put in, shooting Hayley a hot look in the mirror.

  “Of course it’s not,” Roz agreed easily.

  “But we just wanted to find a way to say that we’re happy if you’re happy. That we think Mitch is a terrific guy, and we’re here to support—”

  “Jeez.” Hayley leaned forward as much as her seat belt would allow. “What she’s trying to say in her Stella way is: Score!”

  “I am not. Exactly. I’m trying to say, with some delicacy—”

  “Screw delicacy. Hey, just because people are a little older and all doesn’t mean they don’t want and deserve some touch the same as the next guy.”

  “Oh,” Roz declared. “I repeat, God.”

  “You’re beautiful and sexy,” Hayley continued. “He’s great looking and sexy. So, it seems to me that sex is . . . She really can’t understand all this, right?” Biting her lip, she glanced at Lily, who was busy playing with her own fingers. “I read this theory on how babies absorb all the stimuli around them, including voices and words, and kind of file them away, and shoot, here we are.”

  She gathered the diaper bag, then jumped out of the car in the rain. After jogging around, she opened the door to release Lily’s harness and drape a blanket over her head. “Don’t say anything interesting while I’m gone. I mean it.”

  When she dashed off, Roz let out a long, heartfelt sigh. “Half the time that girl makes me feel old and creaky, and the other half she makes me feel about eighteen and grass green.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. And I know it sounds like we’re pushing and prying into your private life, but it’s because, well, it’s just because we love you, that’s all. And added to it, we were wondering when you and Mitch might take things up a level.”

  “Wondering, were you?”

  Stella winced. “The subject might have come up in casual conversation. Once or twice.”

  “Why don’t I let you know when and if I’d like to have a casual conversation on the subject?”

  “Sure. Absolutely.”

  When Hayley ran back out, jerked open the door, Stella cleared her throat—loudly—and gave a quick shake of her head. As Hayley let out a disgusted sigh, Stella pulled away from the side of the road and spoke brightly.

  “So, I’ve been working on ideas for displaying the potting soil.”

  HER LIFE DIDN’Tchange, Roz reminded herself, just because she’d gone to bed with a man she found attractive and appealing. Life went on, with its duties and obligations, its irritations and its pleasures.

  As she headed for her garden club’s monthly meeting, she wasn’t sure which category her current destination landed in.

  A Harper had been a member of the garden club since her grandmother’s day. In fact, her grandmother had helped form it in 1928, and Harper House had held many of its early meetings.

  As the owner of a garden center, she felt a double obligation to support the group and remain an active member. And there were some pleasures attached to it. She enjoyed talking with like-minded people about gardening and felt the club had worked hard to implement fund-raisers for beautification projects.

  But then, there were plenty who just wanted to dress up, have lunch, and gossip.

  She walked into the meeting room at the country club into that beehive hum of female voices. Square enameled pots exploding with forced narcissus sat festively on tables draped with spring-green linen. A podium stood in front of the room for the various committee chairs who’d give their reports or pitches.

  She could only thank God she wasn’t chairing anything currently.

  When she stepped farther into the room, glances shot her way, and the hum of voices trailed off. And died.

  Almost immediately they started up again, just a bit too loud, just a bit too bright. She let the cold shield slide over her, and continued to walk straight to a table.

  “Aren’t these flowers sweet.” She looked directly at Jan Forrester as if she couldn’t hear the whispers under the forced chatter. “A nice reminder spring’s just around the corner. How are you, Jan?”

  “Oh, fine, Roz. I’m just fine, how about you?”

  “Couldn’t be better. How’s Quill doing?”

  She flushed, deep and rosy. “Oh, you know Quill.”

  “I certainly do. You just give him my best, won’t you?”

  It was pride that had her walking the gauntlet, mingling with the crowd, speaking with more than a dozen people before she moved to the pots of coffee and tea. She opted for tea, cold, rather than her habitual coffee.

  Her throat felt scalded.

  “Roz, honey, don’t you look fabulous.” Cissy sidled up, smelling of Obsession and smiling like a hungry cat. “I swear, nobody wears clothes like you do. What color would you call that suit?”

  Roz glanced down at the trim jacket and pants. “I have no idea.”

  “Apricot. That’s just what it looks like, a nice ripe apricot. That little turnip-head Mandy’s been flapping her foolish tongue as fast as she can,” she said under her breath. “You and me need to have ourselves atête-à-tête .”

  “That’s all right, I’ve got the picture. Excuse me.” She walked deliberately to Mandy and had the small pleasure of watching the woman’s cheeks go white even as she stopped speaking in mid-sentence.

  “Mandy, how are you? I haven’t seen you since before Christmas. You didn’t make last month’s meeting.”

  “I was busy.”

  Roz took a slow sip of tea. “Life is a circus, isn’t it?”

  “You’ve been busy yourself.” Mandy jerked up her chin.

  “If there’s not one thing that needs doing, there’s a half dozen.”

  “Maybe if you spent more time tending to your own business, you wouldn’t have so much left over to make harassing phone calls or tell vicious lies.”

  All pretense of other conversation stopped, as if a switch had been thrown.

  “You don’t know me very well,” Roz said in the same conversational tone, “or you’d know that I don’t make any phone call that isn’t necessary. I don’t care to spend much time on the phone. And I don’t lie. I just don’t see the point in it when the truth usually serves best.”

  Mandy folded her arms, cocked a hip in an aggressive stance. “Everybody knows what you’ve been up to, but they’re too afraid of you to say it to your face.”

  “But you’re not—good for you—so you go right ahead and say what’s on your mind. Or if you’d feel more comfortable, we can have this conversation in private.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “No, not any more than I like having it in public.”

  “Just because your family’s gone back in Shelby County since God doesn’t give you the right to lord it over everybody. My family’s just as important as yours, and I’ve got as much money and prestige.”

  “Money and prestige don’t buy good manners. You aren’t showing any at the moment.”

  “You have nerve, talking to me about manners when you’re doing everything you can to ruin Bryce’s reputation, and mine.”

  “Bryce’s reputation is of his own making. And as for yours, honey, you haven’t even been on my radar screen. You seem like a likable enough girl. I’ve got nothing against you.”

  “You’ve been telling people I was a cheap tramp, using my daddy�
��s money to try to buy some class.”

  “And where’d you hear such a thing? Bryce, I imagine.”

  “Not only him.” With her chin still lifted, red spots of color flagged in her cheeks, Mandy looked over at Jan.

  “Jan?” Surprise softened Roz’s voice, and regret flickered in her heart, just once as she saw the woman flush. “You know better. Shame on you.”

  “It was something I heard, from a reliable source,” Jan said as she hunched her shoulders.

  “A reliable source?” Roz didn’t bother to temper the disgust in her voice. “And suddenly you’re, what, an investigative reporter hunting up sources? You might’ve come and asked me. It would’ve been the simple and decent thing to do before spreading such nonsense any further.”

  “Everyone knows how mad you were when Bryce showed up at your house with Mandy. This isn’t the place to discuss it.”

  “No, it isn’t, but it’s too late for that. At least this girl has the spine to say what she has to say straight to my face, which is more than you.”

  Dismissing Jan, Roz turned back to Mandy. “Mandy, did I seem mad when you arrived at my door with Bryce for my holiday party?”

  “Of course you were mad. You turned us away, didn’t you, when he was only trying to make peace with you.”

  “We can disagree on what he was trying to do. How did I seem mad? Did I shout and scream?”

  “No, but—”

  “Did I curse and push you physically out the door?”

  “No, because you’re cold-blooded, just like he says. Just like plenty others say when you’re not around to hear. You waited until we were gone to go in and say awful things about us.”

  “Did I?” She turned, determined now to finish it out. “Most of you were there that night. Maybe someone here could refresh my memory, as I can’t recall saying awful things.”

  “You did nothing of the sort.” Mrs. Haggerty, one of Roz’s oldest customers and a pillar in the gardening community, pushed her way through. “I’m as interested in juicy gossip as the next, and don’t mind some enhancements to a story, but these are outright lies. Rosalind comported herself with absolute propriety under extremely difficult circumstances. And, young lady, she was kind to you, I saw that with my own eyes. When she came back inside, she said nothing whatsoever about you or that unfortunate bastard you’ve chosen to champion. If there’s anyone here who can say different than that, let’s hear it.”