by Gun Brooke
“That sounds intriguing. Will you ever be able to share the details?” Annelie shifted and allowed Carolyn to stack a few pillows behind her. “Sciatic pain,” she explained.
“I think once we’ve completed the conditions of the will and everything has gone the way Maeve stipulated, that shouldn’t be a problem. If that’s what Aeron wants.” Sylvie glanced at Aeron. “The will mostly concerns you.”
“Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to pry,” Annelie said quickly.
“Oh, God, I know that.” Aeron spoke quickly. “You two are my best friends.”
“I didn’t mean to imply—” Sylvie looked mortified. “I’m sorry.” She pulled away from Aeron and seemed to shrink into the corner of the couch.
“Hey, you’re looking out for Aeron. That’s a big plus in my book.” Carolyn smiled gently. “Apart from a very small group of people, Aeron hasn’t had too many people go the extra mile for her. When I ran into her in the woods between our properties, it was like a revelation. I had to bring up my siblings when I was very young, which I suppose gives me a protective streak. Aeron reminded me of my sister at that age—innocent and feeling rejected, albeit for very different reasons. Aeron let us in rather quickly, which was surprising, and after that she was simply family. A treasure. Annelie had met her mother, as they moved in some of the same circles at one point, in New York. This way we had some knowledge of Maeve DeForest before Aeron even told us. She did confide in us though, and I’m glad she did. She needed someone on her side. ”
“Please. I’m sitting right here, and I’m not a frail little flower who can’t make friends if I want to.” Aeron pouted deliberately and found it rather fun that she managed to make them all look at her with the same startled expression. “After all, I’m the one here who thinks up all the scary stuff, right? That must mean I’m the toughest among us.”
“Oh, you—” Annelie took one of the pillows and threw it at Aeron, who caught it and hugged it to her.
“But, all jokes aside,” Aeron said, “you have a point. I don’t let people in easily, and that has its reasons. It’s nice to have friends that have your back. I hope you know I have yours as well.”
“This is getting so emotional, I need more coffee.” Carolyn rose and caressed the back of Aeron’s head when she passed her. “We know, honey.”
Looking furtively at Sylvie, Aeron was relieved to see she’d relaxed, at least marginally. What the hell had they said that made Sylvie react that way? Something had triggered her response, and Aeron was certain she’d never seen Sylvie look so forlorn.
“You okay?” Aeron mouthed as Annelie was busy retrieving the pillow from her and getting comfortable again.
Sylvie nodded briefly. “Yes, of course.” The automatic reply didn’t convince Aeron, but the fact that Sylvie slowly became less rigid did.
Carolyn took longer than they expected, but when she returned she had a young girl of about eleven or twelve years old with her. “Look who I found sneaking in through the back door.”
“Sneaking in?” Piper snorted. “You’re the one who says ‘If I see any of those clothes you wear at the stables anywhere near the foyer…’ and that’s why I come in through the mudroom.” She grinned at Carolyn. “And yes. I showered and placed the clothes in the washing machine. I didn’t start it though. I can never remember how much detergent to put in. And remember when I forgot to—”
“Piper, we have friends visiting,” Annelie said mildly. “This is Aeron’s good friend Sylvie Thorn. She’s from Sweden but lives in Manhattan. Sylvie, this is my little sister, Piper.”
“Hello. I hear we share a love for horses.” Sylvie extended her hand and Piper took it politely.
“You love horses too? That’s brilliant! Do you have a horse in the US? Do you ride in Central Park? Can I—what?” Piper stopped talking as Carolyn placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Why don’t you save all those questions for dinner? Aeron and Sylvie are joining us, and you and Sylvie can discuss such things then. Right now, I need help setting the table.”
“Sure thing. What are we having?” Piper waved at the other three as she followed Carolyn into the kitchen.
“Piper can eat anytime, not that you can see it. I think all her physical activities burn all the food.” Annelie smiled, but with sadness in her eyes. “In the beginning I worried she might eat this much because she sometimes went hungry when her mother couldn’t pay for groceries. She did her best, I know that, but…” She grimaced and shifted again.
“Her poor mother,” Aeron said. “Such torment not to be able to put enough food on the table.”
“Piper told us her mother would give her what food they had and go without, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. It’s unfortunately not that uncommon. Kids go hungry all over the country.”
“Even in Sweden, though a lot less than here, I believe. I come from a very privileged background and can’t fathom going without food.” Sylvie spoke quietly. “I also have a loving mother, which no one should take for granted.” She glanced at Aeron.
“My mother wasn’t mature enough to have a child, but I’m still glad she had me, for obvious reasons. I never lacked for food.” Only for attention, some sign that she mattered and that Maeve truly loved her.
“I grew up with a single mother.” Annelie’s smile was tender. “We weren’t well off by any stretch of the imagination, but I was always well fed and clothed. She passed away when I was a teenager, and our neighbor took me in. My father wasn’t in the picture. Later he was busy abandoning Piper like he abandoned me.”
“That’s hard on a kid.” Aeron regarded Annelie with affection. “I wish I knew who my father was. Or is, as I assume he’s still alive.”
“Any news at all on that front?” Annelie asked.
“Not really. I’m debating whether to let a private investigator look for him, but I’m not sure yet. I mean, yes, I want to know, but not at any cost.”
Sylvie tilted her head. “How do you mean?”
“He most likely has his life all sorted out. I have no idea on what terms he and Maeve parted. Perhaps she ended up hating him. Or he might have thought she was trying to trap him.”
“Whoa. Those are quite some assumptions. He might not even know about you. What if he would love to get to know you? That’s a possibility as well.” Annelie sat up, made a face, and sank back against the cushions with a soft moan. “Damn this darn sciatic nerve, or whatever it is that hurts.”
“You’re pale,” Aeron said, concerned now. “Do you need anything?”
“She needs to lie down.” Carolyn stood in the doorway, her blue-gray eyes dark as she regarded her wife. “All those hours at the desk. Why can’t you be normal and take your laptop to bed like everyone else?”
“Sorry. I will, I will.” Annelie stood slowly. “I’m not even showing yet, and this darn back of mine is already giving me problems.” She kissed the top of Carolyn’s head. “Forgive me. I’m going to have to lie down now instead. I don’t think my back can handle the dining-room chairs.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll save you dinner and bring it to the bedroom. Piper and I’ll entertain our guests.”
“If you’d rather we leave…” Aeron said, but stopped talking when Carolyn looked mildly panicked.
“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re going to come to the dining room and have dinner with Piper and me. There’ll be far too much food left otherwise.”
“All right.” Walking over to Annelie, Aeron kissed her cheek gently. “Go rest. We’ll catch up more later. We’re leaving for Manhattan tomorrow at noon, but I’ll be back home here before you know it. You’ll be tired of me.”
“Never going to happen. We intend to stay here another month and then we’ll go back to Manhattan while Carolyn’s on location there. If all goes according to plan, it’ll coincide with Piper’s fall semester.”
“Darling. Go—lie—down.” Carolyn frowned slightly but mellowed when Annelie did as told.
&nbs
p; As they went to have dinner, Aeron looked at the couple most of America adored. Carolyn had never been more popular in the entertainment business, and Annelie’s companies grew exponentially every year. Piper was clearly thriving. A forbidden question—if she would ever meet the one who’d end up being to her what these two were to each other—poked through her defenses. She glanced in Sylvie’s direction to see if she was taken with the obvious love and respect permeating the air in this house. She hadn’t expected to see Sylvie standing by the window, her profile as if chiseled in granite. She was thinking of something somber, for sure. “Sylvie?” Sylvie didn’t seem to have heard her. “Sylvie?”
“Yes?” Turning so quickly she startled Aeron, Sylvie pulled her arms down from where she’d crossed them over her chest.
“Dinner.” Clearly, something had struck a chord with Sylvie, but if it was the child, the couple, the horse, or all the talk about parents, she had no way of knowing.
“Of course.” Sylvie gave what Aeron now recognized as her professional smile—lots of teeth and a guarded expression in her eyes. “I’m starving.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sylvie couldn’t sleep. Several of the topics from earlier in the day still haunted her, especially the talk about parents. Mothers who loved and sacrificed. Mothers who didn’t. Fathers who were absent. Or in her case, a father who cast far too long a shadow on her life. Sylvie hadn’t broached the topic of Daniel, as she couldn’t bring herself to even mention him. When they had their dinner with Carolyn and Piper, they’d spoken about more pleasant things, such as horses, sports, and traveling. None of the other three had been to Sweden or any of the other Scandinavian countries, and Piper had a lot of questions. So many, in fact, that Carolyn had to intervene.
As Sylvie and Aeron walked home in the light of Aeron’s large flashlight, they hardly spoke. The silence was quite comfortable, and Sylvie inhaled the sweet, fresh scent of the woods. Then, an echoing snap originating from the woods on Sylvie’s side made her gasp and move closer to Aeron, grasping for her hand. “What was that?”
“Some animal stepping on a dry twig.” Aeron sounded completely calm.
“Are you sure?” Feeling ridiculous for being such a city slicker, Sylvie still held Aeron’s hand
“Pretty sure.”
“I don’t like ‘pretty sure.’ I like certainties.” This was very true, and if Aeron used her keen mind, she’d figure this out.
“I’m fairly certain, though I don’t mind you holding my hand. Trust me, I’d hold yours if we were passing some dark alleyway in New York.” Aeron squeezed Sylvie’s hand, but the laughter in her voice was obvious.
“You think I’m a silly coward,” Sylvie muttered. “I can tell.”
“I don’t think any such thing. You’re not a wilderness kind of person. You’re bound to hear all kinds of sounds I don’t pay attention to any longer. Like when an old houses develops its own sound pattern, and you get used to it and don’t think it’s haunted anymore.”
“What do you mean? Your house? Did you used to think it was haunted?” Now this was beginning to really sound like…like too much.
“No, I mean in general. Didn’t you listen to my house when you went to bed last night?” Aeron’s hand left Sylvie’s and began caressing up and down her lower arm.
“I fell asleep instantly, so, no.” She chuckled. “And honestly, I don’t believe in ghosts and I’m not afraid of them.”
“Well, now, how could you be afraid of them if you don’t believe in them?” Laughing, Aeron took hold of Sylvie’s hand again. “Me, on the other hand, I’m on the fence about it. I think there’s a lot we don’t know and can’t explain. You know, intuition, people who are sensitive to moods, unexplainable events.”
“I agree this world we live in has many unexplainable things and events. I’ve even stumbled upon a few. As for intuition, I’m a firm believer in following your gut instinct when you’ve learned to listen to it at the right time. Usually doesn’t fail me in business anyway.”
“When does your intuition fail?”
“Can’t you guess?”
Aeron was quiet for a moment. “Eh, at first I was going to say ‘when you fall in love,’ but that didn’t feel right. So I listen to my intuition and it’s not that hard. I think yours fails you whenever your father is in the picture.”
“Correct. See? We’re both right.”
Stopping in the middle of the path, Aeron looked up at Sylvie, who could barely see the outline of Aeron’s face in the faint light of the downturned flashlight. “I like being right.” Aeron drew a deep breath. “What’s more, I like being here with you.”
“Likewise.” Forcing herself to breathe evenly, Sylvie held on to Aeron’s hand.
Aeron wrapped her free arm around Sylvie’s neck. “May I kiss you?” she whispered, her lips a fraction of an inch from Sylvie’s. “I’ve wanted to for days now. It’s all I can think about right now.”
“Yes…Sure.” Was she dreaming? Sylvie could hardly speak. The next moment, Aeron’s lips pressed against hers. This was no dream. No dream had ever felt this real, this strong. Aeron’s lips, full and firm, yet impossibly soft, claimed hers. Drowning instantly in wave after wave of arousal, Sylvie greedily drew in her breath through her nose. Parting her lips—she couldn’t stop herself if she tried—she slid the tip of her tongue across Aeron’s upper lip, tracing her Cupid’s bow.
Aeron whimpered and sank into Sylvie. She parted her lips, reciprocating the kiss without hesitation. “Oh, my,” she said, moaning. “I just had…to…” She kissed Sylvie again, who in turn pulled Aeron tight against her. Aeron smelled so good, and her fresh scent of wildflowers and something fruity blended with the crisp forest night. Sylvie pushed her hands under Aeron’s light windbreaker. The T-shirt she wore underneath was yet another barrier, and though Sylvie ached to touch Aeron’s naked skin, she harnessed any such premature notions. Instead, she escalated the kiss further, asking for entrance to Aeron’s mouth.
“Mmm. Yes,” Aeron whispered against Sylvie’s lips before meeting her tongue with her own. Sylvie whimpered, a telling sign from her, normally the one always in control. She gently met Aeron’s tongue, sliding it up and down, playing, dancing. She let go of Aeron’s hand and slid her freed hand into her amazing hair. The silky feel of it made her moan into Aeron’s mouth.
Aeron, trembling now, was clearly unable to restrain her hands as Sylvie did. She dropped the flashlight, leaving a pine tree well lit and themselves in darkness. Aeron slid her hands under Sylvie’s linen jacket and then beneath the golf shirt. Hot against Sylvie’s skin, they drew light circles, palms hot, fingertips cool.
Sylvie realized for the first time what the expression “drowned in her kiss” meant. Dizzy, out of breath, and unable to fight, she allowed the kiss to continue until her legs were about to give in. Pulling back, she inhaled deeply. She kept her arms around Aeron, not about to let go.
“I…I didn’t count on that,” Aeron said, her voice weak. “Damn.”
Chuckling, Sylvie pressed her lips against Aeron’s temple. “Me either.”
“Should we perhaps walk the last little bit to the cabin? I mean, while I still have any strength in my legs?”
Sylvie nodded, even if she wanted to kiss Aeron again, right then and there. “Good idea.”
After retrieving the flashlight, they walked the last stretch of the gravel road. Sylvie held her arm around Aeron’s shoulders, and now her mind began to kick in—questioning, calculating, and reassessing. What had happened? How had they gone from tentative friends with a common goal to this…this explosion of a kiss?
When they reached the house, Sylvie let go of Aeron’s shoulders. She waited in silence as Aeron unlocked the door and switched off the alarm. After resetting it, Aeron turned to Sylvie, and though it was impossible to judge her expression in the dimly lit room, Sylvie pulled back and pushed her hands into her jacket pockets.
“Sylvie?” Aeron took her gently by the elbows. “
What’s the matter?”
“Nothing at all. Just tired and ready for bed, really.” A lousy cop-out if there ever was one. Especially when you considered how much she was ready to take Aeron to bed this instant. Hell, she’d have her right there on the floor where they stood if it wasn’t so impossible. So much was against that, it was ridiculous. Maeve had entrusted her with Aeron in a sense. That was one thing. Sylvie had never felt so strongly about anyone before, and certainly not this fast. That was a warning sign of an imminently broken heart.
There were things about herself Sylvie wasn’t ready to share. Intellectually she knew she had nothing to be ashamed of, but emotionally, the wounds had closed but never healed. Her father’s contempt, to this day, pierced her soul, and it wouldn’t take much poking or prodding for it to hemorrhage. If she let Aeron any closer, she’d find out that Sylvie was virtually illiterate. “I should get some rest. Long day tomorrow.” Sylvie pulled back. She really wanted nothing more than Aeron’s hands all over her body, but if she allowed that, she stood to lose so much. Business, heart, pride…sanity. She needed to return them to being tentative friends. How the hell would she be able to backtrack into that?
“It’s only ten.” Aeron’s hands dropped from Sylvie’s arms as if she’d burned herself. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Not at all. I’m just tired. Don’t think I didn’t enjoy our kisses. I did. You’re a stunning young woman, but—”
“But now you’re going to tell me how you really feel.” Taking a step to the right, Aeron flipped a switch and the room was bathed in light from the ceiling lamp. “Go on.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she was suddenly the defiant woman from her mother’s funeral. Her green eyes sparkled, but not from joy or arousal.
“Aeron, please.” Sylvie’s stomach clenched into a tight knot. “You…I mean…” Hating how weak she sounded, Sylvie did what she always did when she felt cornered or lost. She turned into the ultimate business tycoon. “All right, if you insist. As lovely as kissing you was, we can’t jeopardize our agreement. You want to find out more about Maeve and perhaps uncover clues about the identity of your father. I want to keep my business intact and avoid the risk of a hostile overtake in the future. If we allow personal…preferences to guide us in the middle of this, we risk losing sight of our objectives.” She heard how callous and matter-of-fact she sounded, but it was all she knew how to do.
