Giles shook his head. He did not want to think of Lily marrying and making him a grandfather. At least not for a long time. He wanted to watch her grow up from infant to toddler, to young girl and teenager and finally a woman. He wanted to be there to cheer her successes and comfort her during disappointments. An unconscious smile crinkled the skin around his eyes. And more important, he wanted to be the role model for the man she would eventually chose as her husband and partner for life.
“What are you smiling about?” Mya questioned.
“I was just thinking about Lily making us grandparents.”
“Bite your tongue, Giles. She’s still in diapers, meanwhile you have her having babies.”
He sobered. “You know it’s probably going to happen one of these days.”
“I know, but there’s still so much I want to do with her before she’s a woman.”
Reaching across the table, Giles held Mya’s hand. “And you will.” He winked at her. “Are you ready for coffee and dessert?
“I don’t think so. I am stuffed. The next time we come back to New York, we have to eat here again. Tell your friend that he’s a gastronomical genius.”
Releasing her hand, Giles signaled the waiter for the check. “I’ll definitely let Dewey know you give him an A.” He settled the bill, leaving a generous gratuity, and escorted Mya out of the restaurant.
She moved closer to his side. “It’s really getting cold. Wearing lace in late October without a coat isn’t very bright.”
He looped an arm around her waist, sharing his body’s heat. “It’s chilly because we’re not far from the East River.” Her dress reminded Giles of the song “The Lady in Red.” Raising his right hand, he whistled for a passing taxi.
“I think I can make it back to your place before turning into an icicle.”
Giles opened the rear door to the cab when it maneuvered up to the curb. “We’re not going back to my place. I figured we’d spend the night at my parents’ house. I don’t want you staying there alone and I want us to be there when Mom and Dad bring Lily back. My father always gets up early and is usually on the road before sunrise.”
He did not tell Mya that if they did spend the night in his condo, he did not trust himself not to try to make love to her. And more important, he did not have any condoms on hand and he didn’t know if Mya was using birth control.
Mya huddled close to him in the back seat. “I called my editor and was told she’s in Europe for a book fair.”
Giles buried his face in her hair. “Maybe you’ll get to see her when we spend the week here between Christmas and New Year’s.”
“I doubt that. Publishing usually goes on hiatus that week. I’ll probably hook up with her sometime next spring.”
* * *
Meeting her editor in person was not a priority for Mya. Having Giles live with her was. She’d told him that she wasn’t raised to shack up with a man and now she was going against what she’d been taught once she invited Giles to move in with her and Lily. Living together would offer her a glimpse into the life she would share with a man who’d roared into her life like a tornado that had touched down to sweep up everything in its path. Her emotions were strewn everywhere and once the twister was gone, she was left craving his touch, his kiss and wanting to know how it would feel to have him inside her.
“Speaking of spring,” Giles said after a pregnant silence, “I know I’m fast-forwarding almost two years, but do you want a spring or summer wedding?”
“I’d like a late-spring wedding. It can get quite hot and uncomfortable in the summer.”
He went still, and then his head popped up as he met her eyes. “You want to get married in Wickham Falls?”
“Of course.”
“Is there a venue large enough to accommodate our family and friends?”
Mya nodded. “We can hold the ceremony and reception in a hotel off the turnpike or interstate.”
“Would it bother you if I hire a wedding planner?”
She gave him an incredulous look. “Of course not. Did you think I would object?”
“I don’t know. You’ve ragged me enough about not checking with you when making decisions that affect both of us.”
Mya lowered her eyes. “You would remind me of that.”
“Only because I don’t want you to think I’m trying to run your life. I’d like to hire Signature Brides. Even though they’re based in New York, I’m certain they would like to add another Wainwright wedding to their long list of high-profile weddings. They were responsible for coordinating my cousin Jordan’s wedding and now they’re involved in planning Brandt’s destination wedding.”
“You can hire them. All I want to do is show up and enjoy our special day.”
“Would you like to become a June bride?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
Giles retrieved his cell phone from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and tapped the calendar icon. “Your birthday falls on a Sunday. Would you like to share your anniversary with your birthday?”
She buried her face against his neck. “Of course not. It will give me an excuse to celebrate not once, but twice.”
“And I don’t have an excuse that I forgot our anniversary.”
Mya laughed softly. “Something tells me that you don’t forget much.”
“Not when it comes to you.”
* * *
Mya stared through the glass of the French doors. She’d returned to Wickham Falls in time to join in the town’s Halloween festivities, while counting down the days when she, Giles, and Lily would return to New York for Thanksgiving However, the weather had conspired against them.
The house would’ve been as quiet as a tomb if not for the tapping of frozen rain against the roof and windows. She was mesmerized by the ice coating the branches of trees and a carpet of white turning the landscape into a Christmas card winter scene.
But it was still four weeks from Christmas, and the plan to go to New York to share Thanksgiving with the Wainwrights had been cancelled because of ice and snow storms ravaging the East Coast from North Carolina to Maine. Flights were grounded and states of emergency had been declared by governors in all of the affected states.
She felt the warmth from Giles’s body as he stood behind her. There were times when she marveled that he could enter a room so silently that she would look up and finding him standing there. He had moved into the house and into the master bedroom. To those who saw them together, they were a normal couple with a child, but behind closed doors, they shared everything but a bed.
His arms circled her waist as he pressed his chest to her back. “You’re not writing today?”
Mya closed her eyes and rested the back of her head against his shoulder. “I don’t feel like writing.”
“Do you have writer’s block?”
“No. I revised my schedule because I thought we were going to New York this weekend.”
“I was looking forward to it, too. So it looks as if we’ll have our own Thanksgiving here.”
Turning in his embrace, Mya went on tiptoe and brushed a kiss over his parted lips. “I have so much to be grateful for. I never could’ve imagined being this contented. And you’re responsible for that.”
Giles affected a half smile. “Only because I love you.”
“Not as much as I love you.”
He eased back, staring at her as if she had spoken a foreign language. “What did you say?”
Mya knew she’d shocked him, because it was the first time she’d admitted what lay in her heart. “I love you, Giles Harrison Wainwright, and right now I want you to take me to bed so I can show you how much I love you.”
Giles blinked once. “I don’t have any condoms with me.”
“You don’t need condoms, darling. I’m on the pill.”
* * *
&nbs
p; Giles knew Mya could feel the runaway beating of his heart against her breasts. He and Mya had been living together for nearly a month, and during that time, he had been reluctant to seduce her in an attempt to get her to agree to sleep with him. He hadn’t thought of himself as an overly patient man but somehow she’d proven him wrong when he decided to wait—wait as long as it would take for her to come to him of her own free will.
Bending slightly, he swept her up in his arms and, taking long, determined strides, headed for the rear of the house and the master bedroom. Giles placed her on the king-size bed and lay beside her. He threaded their fingers together. “Are you certain you’re ready for this?”
“Yes.”
Moving over her while sitting back on his heels, Giles’s hands searched under the hem of her T-shirt, massaging the tight flesh over her ribs before moving up to cover her breasts. Her breathing deepened as he slowly and methodically undressed her, and then himself. There was enough light coming through the windows to make out her eyes. Her steady gaze bore into his as he lowered his head and kissed her mouth.
Giles wanted Mya because he found her sexy, sexier than any woman he had ever met. That he wanted her because he knew he couldn’t have Lily without her. And that she unknowingly had cast a spell over him, bewitching him with her poise and beauty. She challenged as well as seduced him, and instinctively he knew he could grow old with her.
She extended her arms and he went into her embrace. Placing his hands under her thighs, he parted her knees with his and eased his erection inside her. She gasped once, and then moaned and writhed in an ancient rhythm that needed no prompting or tutoring.
* * *
The impact of their lovemaking matched and surpassed the ferocity of the ice storm lashing the countryside with its fury as Mya ascended to heights of passion she had never experienced before. She sought to possess Giles as he did the same with her. Her sighs from experiencing multiple orgasms had not faded completely when Giles reversed their positions. Burying her face against the column of his strong neck, she kissed him under his ear at the same time he growled deep in his throat and caught the tender flesh at the base of her throat between his teeth, leaving a visible imprint of his claim. She savored the lingering pulsing of his hardness inside her.
Her fist pounded the pillow beneath his head. “Why did you wait so long?”
Giles frowned up at her. “Wait for what?”
“To make love to me.”
“I can’t believe you’d say that,” he drawled. “If you’d given me the slightest hint that you wanted me to make love to you, I would’ve had you on your back a long time ago.”
She smiled. “I suppose that means we’ll just have to make up for lost time.”
Giles winked at her. “You’ve got that right, sweets.”
* * *
Two weeks before they were scheduled to fly to New York for the Christmas week Mya felt as if her fairy-tale world had suddenly imploded.
The fear and uneasiness she’d managed to push to the recesses of her mind had suddenly had resurfaced. The man with whom she had fallen love, made love with every chance they got, and looked forward to sharing her daughter and their future with had deceived her.
She had just put Lily down for her nap and walked into her office only to overhear Giles on his cell. The door was slight ajar and she heard Giles talking to someone. Her step faltered when she heard him mention Lily’s name. Her heart stopped, and then started up again when he said, “Her name should be listed as Lily Hope Lawson-Wainwright. Yes, Wainwright.”
Mya didn’t wait to hear anymore. She made her way down the staircase to the kitchen at the same time she tried to slow the runaway beating of her heart. What she’d suspected all along had become a reality. Giles had wined and dined, wooed, courted and proposed marriage because it was the only way he could claim his daughter. She glared at him when he walked into the kitchen.
“Hi, sweets. I thought you’d be upstairs writing.”
“I don’t feel very much like writing. Not after overhearing your conversation.”
An expression of confusion settled into his handsome features. “What are you talking about?”
“Lily Hope Lawson-Wainwright,” she spat out. “How dare you go behind my back and—”
“Stop it, Mya!” Giles said, interrupting her. “It’s not what you think.”
“It’s not what I think but what I overheard.”
“Why were you eavesdropping?”
Mya’s temper flared. “Eavesdropping? In my own home?”
He managed to appear contrite. “Maybe I used the wrong word.”
“You’re damn right you did.” Giles moved closer at the same time she slipped off the stool, putting more distance between them. “Don’t touch me.” She held up a hand. “And please don’t say anything because right about now I’m ready to lose it.”
A muscle twitched in Giles’s jaw. “Suit yourself.” Turning on his heel he walked out of the kitchen.
Mya closed her eyes, willing the tears welling up behind her lids not to fall. How could she have been so blind? The silent voice had nagged at her not to trust Giles, but unfortunately she had ignored it when time and again Giles made decisions without first consulting her. She was not his employee or soldiers under command where he issued orders and expected them to be followed without question. It had been a while since she had to remind Giles that legally he had no claim on Lily, and it was apparent that he had forgotten that fact.
Chapter Thirteen
“I can’t believe we had to wait until New Year’s Eve to meet you for the first time.”
Mya smiled at Giles’s cousin’s wife. She never would’ve guess that Aziza Fleming-Wainwright was the mother of a three-month-old. A black off-the-shoulder gown clung to the curves of her tall, slender body. “I don’t know, but every time Giles and I plan to come to New York it’s as if the weather conspires against us. First, an ice storm for Thanksgiving and then a blizzard with nearly two feet of snow for Christmas.”
Temperatures in the northeast had gone from below freezing to mid-fifties and within days mounds of snow had begun to melt.
What she did not say was her relationship with Giles had gone from frosty to icy. They had become polite strangers living under the same roof, while Lily continued to thrive. She was walking, holding on to objects to keep her balance and had begun calling Giles ‘Da-da.’
* * *
When Mya arrived earlier that afternoon she’d found the suites in the four-story, gray-stone mansion spanning a half block on Fifth Avenue filled with several generations of Wainwrights, and she hadn’t seen Lily once Amanda discovered her granddaughter was in the nursery with the other young children.
There was a soft knock on the door before it opened and a young woman wearing a black backless gown with a full skirt swept into the room. Her chemically straightened hair was styled in a loose, curling ponytail. Mya knew without introductions that she was Ciara Dennison, Brandt’s fiancée. During their first visit to New York Giles had pulled up several family photographs on his computer and given her an overview of each person. Mya had teased him about the two, very pretty African-American women definitely adding a bit of color to the overwhelming number of Wainwright blonds.
The diamond ring on Ciara’s left hand caught the light when she held out her arms to Mya. “All of the guys were whispering about how beautiful you are, and I just had to come and see if they were blowing smoke,” she said with a wide grin. “Girlfriend, you are stun-ning!” She drew out the word in two distinct syllables. “I’m Ciara.”
Mya pressed her cheek to Ciara’s. “And I’m Mya.”
Aziza rested her hands at her waist. “I’m certain when people hear your names, they probably think of the two female singers.”
Mya laughed. “I’d starve to death if I had to sing for a living.”
Ciara patted her hair. “I’d probably do a little better than you because I can carry a tune.”
Her clear brown eyes sparkled like newly minted pennies. “It looks as if we sister-girls are batting a thousand when it comes to scooping up these fine-ass Wainwright men.”
“I second that,” Aziza drawled.
Mya had to agree with the attorney and psychiatric nurse. Even if their men weren’t Wainwrights, Jordan, Brandt and Giles were the heroes women fantasized about when reading romance novels. “Excuse me, but I have to see Giles about something.” Lifting the skirt of her chocolate-brown strapless gown, she walked out of the suite.
Turning on her heel, she made her way down the wide carpeted hallway to the curving staircase leading to the great hall. The mansion was decorated for the season: live pine boughs lined the fireplace mantel as a fire blazed behind a decorative screen. Lighted electric candles were in every window, and the gaily decorated, twelve-foot Norwegian spruce towered under the brightly lit chandelier suspended from a twenty-foot ceiling. Many of the more fragile glass ornaments on the tree were purported to be at least two hundred years old.
The ball was in full swing with formally dressed men and women eating and drinking, and many couples were dancing to a live band. Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned to find a young man with brilliant green eyes in a deeply tanned face smiling at her. “May I have this dance?”
Mya returned his smile. “Of course.”
“Who are you here with, beautiful?” he whispered in her ear as he spun her around the marble floor.
“Giles Wainwright.”
“It’s just my luck you would be connected to the folks hosting this shindig.”
The song ended and Mya barely had time to catch her breath when she found herself dancing with another man. This one held her too tight as he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her chest. When she pleaded thirst, he led her to the bar and waited until she asked the bartender for a club soda with a twist of lime.
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