“Maybe she just wants to talk to you but she doesn’t want to say so. You know, the way girls do.”
“Not really.”
She turned to look at him. And realized he was being truthful. He’d missed out on all the silly things young girls do to get the attention of guys, because at that time he’d been fighting just to stay alive.
“It’s just a dumb thing. You call a man and if he answers, you pretend you were calling to talk to someone else at the house, but in reality you try to keep him on the line talking to you.”
He looked flabbergasted. “So…you did that?”
She blushed and ducked her head, her hair swinging forward. “I didn’t have a lot of time for girl stuff, but Rita probably did. She probably called just to talk to you.”
“Maybe, but when I spoke with her, she mostly wanted to talk about you. She wanted to know if you were making any more glasswork.”
“Why?”
He smiled. “Because it’s pretty and it’s very you. Unique.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Think about it.”
She thought about it now. And dismissed it. She wasn’t interested in talking to Rita. Rita would just say things about Lucas that she already knew. Tough stuff. Painful stuff.
Later when she was working with the ladies on the plans for the open house, one of them looked at her. “What are you going to do for Lucas?” the woman asked. “You know, like a ‘going away’ card. He’ll be leaving and you won’t. At least not right away.”
Genevieve wondered if she could manage a card or think of the right things to say.
As for staying here, she loved this place, but she really did have to think about getting a job. She didn’t want to be here when Lucas returned from his trip. It wouldn’t be fair to him. She needed to get out.
But what could she do? Where could she go?
She looked at the want ads, spoke to Teresa. Finally she picked up the phone and took a deep breath. “Hello, Rita,” she said.
And then, five minutes later… “I want to be able to tell him that I’m leaving,” she continued. “Make a clean break. No loose ends. Something he can count on. Nothing messy. Totally controlled. Just the way he likes it, you know?”
“I know, babe,” Rita said. “Come over. We’ll talk. I’ll get you out of there. And I’ll help you.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I DON’T WANT TO HAVE another lesson, and you don’t need one, anyway,” Lucas said. “This is the last day. Tonight’s the open house and tomorrow I fly to France. You’ll be here next week and the week after?”
“Yes. By then Della will be totally in control of the situation. She’s almost there now. And I have some…possibilities for afterward.” She didn’t know why she said that when everything was still very much up in the air and she had no details. But he liked things in their place and she didn’t want him to worry about her.
He was studying her, with those intense dark eyes. She knew he wouldn’t ask what the possibilities were. Lucas had been her biggest cheerleader on her path to independence. He wouldn’t pry.
“So, no lesson?” She got up to leave.
He reached out and took her hand. “I was hoping you could go somewhere with me today.”
“Of course. Where?”
“I’m not big on surprises, but I think I’d like this to be a surprise. I want your first impression. We’ll be gone most of the day. I’ll let Della know in case she runs into any problems with any last-minute open house preparations.”
“Most of the day?”
“It’s pretty far away. Will you mind?”
Mind snatching every last drop of her time with Lucas? “I won’t mind,” she said. “The preparations are in order. There’s not much left to do.”
He touched her arm, gently, and she walked with him to the car, his skin brushing hers. The thought of spending the day with Lucas filled her with longing, because she loved him. It filled her with fear, because she was afraid she still might slip and let him know. And she was also experiencing a sense of impending doom. He didn’t like surprises. That could be a problem tonight.
Lucas didn’t know why he was doing this. Why had he bought this place? Why was he taking Genevieve there on a day when she probably had a ton of things she wanted to do and was just too polite to say so?
They had been driving for an hour, making small talk about Angie’s House, about his business, about France. He noticed that whenever he tried to bring the topic back to her and what she would be doing, she gave some vague sprightly answer, then turned the conversation to him.
She didn’t want him to know anything of her future. He had to respect that. She’d told him so many times that she needed her independence and would not want to rely on a man. Intruding, trying to pry or push himself into her plans would be wrong.
Not knowing what the future held for her was making him crazy. That was half the reason for this outing. He was going slowly insane thinking about leaving Genevieve and he had to have a day of just…
“I bought it last week,” he said, shunting his thoughts aside and indicating the long, low house that stretched over the land and nearly kissed the lake behind it. “Fox Lake is a little far away from the city, but I thought…this might be the next Angie’s House. I know you’ve been worried about the women who are on the waiting list. I didn’t want to wait to see how the first one works out. If there’s a need, I’d like to try to fill it. What do you think?”
They exited the car and she walked down the slope of the land to the house and then to the lake beyond. “I think it’s perfectly beautiful here. The next group of women are going to be very lucky. You certainly know what women want.”
He laughed. She knew that that wasn’t so. In fact, he realized now that he’d been holding his breath, hoping she liked the place. This could have gone so wrong. Not everyone liked water or long commutes that ended far away from a true city.
“Come inside,” he said, taking her hand. “I’d like your expert opinion.”
She followed him through the house. “I love the window seats!” she said, dropping her purse and running to sit on the cushioned seat overlooking the lake. “And the huge sunroom that looks out on the gardens. The double fireplace and the deck, the pier, the water. Everything. I love it all.” Her eyes were bright, her smile was electric. She was practically bouncing with excitement. “Lucas, this is so perfect. The next group of ladies are going to love this so much.”
“Even that painting over the fireplace?”
She looked up. He held his breath. It had taken him some time to locate it, but he’d finally found the sister painting to the one she had donated to Angie’s House.
“You found it.” She barely breathed the words. “I love it. I love all of it. How did you find anything so perfect?”
“Maybe I just asked myself ‘What would Genevieve like?’ Your enthusiasm was my incentive. You make things easy. You’ve made these past few weeks easy.”
“It’s my job,” she said, blushing in that pretty way she had. “Anyone would be excited about this place.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. You’re unique. You’re going to be difficult to forget.” He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t ever forget her, but if he took it that far, she might know how he really felt. His Gen was an intuitive lady. And he didn’t want her to feel sorry that she couldn’t love him. Most of all he didn’t want her to feel sorry for him.
It was time to lighten things up. If this was their last day together, he didn’t want to spend it regretting what he couldn’t have. She was here. Now. His for a few hours. It would have to be enough.
A hundred years of Genevieve would never be enough. But he was a man who was used to living on less than he wanted.
“Do you swim?” he asked.
“A little, but…” She looked down at the black slacks and royal-blue blouse she was wearing.
“That’s not a problem. First room on the right. There’s a suit and a cove
r-up. Della raided your closet.” He hoped she wouldn’t mind that he had presumed to leave some things here for her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to come,” he said. “I wanted to be ready.”
Genevieve disappeared into the bedroom. He heard a shriek. “Did you tell Della what to pick?”
Uh-oh. “I’ve never looked in your closet. Is it something you don’t like?”
“Well…” She walked out of the room. The plum-colored suit was cut in a deep V and had scooped out sides. It fit her curves to perfection. A low-slung lavender sarong rode her pretty hips. “This was one that Teresa talked me into buying once and I’ve never worn it. It always seemed too revealing for someone like me.” The suit was revealing, but it also looked as if the designer had had Gen in mind when he made it. “You’re beautiful. You’ll be the belle of the lake.” But with her fair skin, he wouldn’t want to keep her out long.
Ten minutes later, they were cruising the lake with the wind in their faces. Genevieve’s coppery curls blew back from her face and whipped around her pretty cheeks. “This is wonderful!” she yelled. “I’ve never spent much time in a boat.”
“Then you should spend more. Take some time to enjoy the wind in your hair.” But there wouldn’t be time for more.
When they returned to shore, she challenged him to a race, rushing into the water and swimming to a pier not far from the shore. She turned and waited as he pulled up beside her. “Did you let me win?” she asked, playfully punching him on the arm.
“Gen, do I look stupid? What man would let you win, knowing that you would probably punch him on the arm? Anyway, you cheated. You dove in without telling me that we were racing.”
“I cheated? Me. I never cheat.” Then she blushed prettily, because of course, she had. “Well, maybe I did this time. I was overexcited.”
He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think of Genevieve overexcited.
“Lucas?”
He opened his eyes.
She smiled at him. “Fair warning. I’ll race you.”
Then, because she was obviously trying to be so darn fair, she let him start first. He won. Then she won the next one, shrieking with delight.
Finally, they fell on the shore beneath the shade of some trees and let the breeze dry them off. She lay back on her elbows and smiled up at him as he rose to his feet and held out his hand, pulling her up beside him.
“I like your house, Lucas,” she said.
“Thank you. But it’s not really mine. I’m donating it.”
She gave a tight nod. “Oh, yes, you live in hotels. I guess that makes sense given your work schedule and all the traveling you do.”
It made sense, but for today he wished he had a home. Here. With Genevieve.
“Time to go?” she asked as he led her back toward the house.
“Almost. I wanted to show you the orchard. In the spring this will be a mass of flowers. The former owner told me that he used to have weddings and picnics in among the trees. I thought the women might like that. And away from the city, they could have pets if they wanted them.”
Genevieve was facing away from him, but when she turned back around, her eyes were misty with unshed tears. “You think of everything, don’t you?” she asked. “You live in a hotel but you try to make sure that the women of Angie’s House have orchards and blossoms and puppies.”
“Don’t cry, Gen. It’s an extremely nice hotel. All of them are.”
She laughed then. “I’m sure they’re all the best hotels imaginable. I don’t know why I’m being so maudlin. I just…this is so beautiful, Lucas. Thank you very much for sharing it with me.”
And that was when he broke. “Gen, don’t be polite. Don’t share platitudes with me. I’m going, Gen. Tomorrow.”
“I know. I’m going to miss you like crazy. And…”
“And…”
She moaned. “And if I don’t do this, I’m going to regret it forever.” She walked into his arms then, she lifted her lips, rose on her pretty pink toes, and his quiet little artist kissed him like he’d never been kissed before.
“Gen,” he groaned. “Don’t do this to me.” But even as he said the words, he had gathered a fistful of her beautiful hair and urged her closer to him. They were knee to knee now, hip to hip, and he was going slowly, maddeningly insane.
“I’ll stop,” she said. “I will.”
But she didn’t. She swept her hand down his body, making his breath catch, making him crazy for her.
“Don’t stop. Kiss me again.” And thank the stars and the apple trees, she kissed him. Slowly. Wonderfully. She made him her own.
Time seemed to stand still. For this woman, time would. She was a miracle and had been a miracle since the moment he’d met her.
“Lucas?” she whispered.
“Tell me.” He curved his palm around her jaw, urging her to look at him.
“Don’t make me ask,” she pleaded, and those big green eyes slayed him. He could barely think straight. He wanted her like parched earth wants water. He had to have her, but…
“You might feel differently tomorrow. I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.
She gave him one solitary kiss, one kiss that wasn’t nearly enough. “You can’t protect me, Lucas. I’m my own woman. And tomorrow is tomorrow. Today is all we can have.”
He led her to the sunroom and there on the deep carpeting of the empty room, with blue sky overhead and the chirping of birds outside, he undressed her. He shed his suit and joined her there.
Then, he kissed her…deeply. He loved her…the way he’d wanted to for ages. And when she came to him, she did so with clear eyes, as solemn as a whisper.
“I’m never going to forget you, Lucas McDowell. You changed my life.” She placed her palms on his chest and rose to meet him. “Love me today.”
He would love her forever, but she would never know. “Any time you ever need anything, Gen. Any help, any anything. Whenever. Wherever. You let me know,” he said.
“I will,” she whispered. “I will. I need you now.” And then she was his. Gen gave him today. And all that she was. The sun had never shone so brightly. Nor would it ever again.
As they drove home, heading toward the end of their time together, he knew that she would never call him, never let him know anything, despite what she had said. His Gen was too much her own woman.
And none of his.
Except in the secret recesses of his heart.
Hours later, Genevieve stood in the foyer of Angie’s House and tried not to think about the perfection and the wonder of this afternoon or the staggering pain she felt when it had ended. Right now, she had a job to do.
The Angie’s House open house was to be the culminating event of everything she’d done since she’d arrived here. It was the big show, the time when the project could shine for the masses, get some much deserved press and make an impression that could impact all future projects.
It was important that everything should go just right and that there should be no mishaps. So Genevieve was happy that she had prepared everything well in advance, scripted the entire evening and double-checked every detail with Della.
Nothing could go wrong.
Except for the unscripted part, the surprise part, the part she was petrified was going to embarrass Lucas. He’d never been a man who craved the spotlight. He’d told her just today that he wasn’t fond of surprises.
And yet…
He’d surprised her today. He kissed me. He did more, and he gave me a day I would never forget.
But now she was lost. Wanting to be in Lucas’s arms had been torture. Actually being in is arms, having him make love to her and knowing that her time with him was over…Genevieve’s heart was slowly shattering. Her mind was like a sieve. Nothing was sticking. Nothing mattered.
Except it did. This was his night, and in pain or not, she had better get her act together. She would never forgive herself if she messed up any of tonight.
“Ready?” Lucas asked,
as they opened the door and let their guests in.
“Yes. This is finally it, the day we’ve worked for.”
“Then let’s do it.” He brushed his knuckle across her cheek. “Let’s officially open the first Angie’s House.”
She nodded. “Let’s light a birthday candle for Angie’s daughter.”
At that, he held her gaze for a moment. And then they were torn apart by duty, the press, their guests.
Lucas stepped up to a podium they had placed there. A towering, impressive figure in formal black and white, he held the visitors’ rapt attention as he gave a brief all-business, all-Lucas intro to the concept of Angie’s House. Then Della and the new residents—all of them had opted to participate—came out and greeted everyone, including their new neighbors. They beamed when they were greeted by a round of applause. It was probably the first time some of them had ever received this kind of adulation.
“I feel like a star,” one woman told Genevieve.
“You are a star, Lucy,” Genevieve whispered. She felt tears come to her eyes when Lucy gave her a hug and when she looked up, she found Lucas looking directly at her. He looked proud, intense, the best part of her world. He looked like…everything she wanted and could never have. Somehow she managed to smile back and keep her head high.
“And here’s the woman who made so much of Angie’s House happen,” Lucas said, catching Genevieve by surprise. She stood and smiled at the crowd, acknowledging the applause.
When all the introductions were over, there were thank-yous to all the sponsors. There was food and talk, mingling and videos and tours of the house.
Then Genevieve gave a nod to the women of Angie’s House. “We have one more item on the agenda tonight. Our new residents have something they’d like to share with all of you, but particularly with Lucas, the man who envisioned a place where women who had faced tough times could be given safety, encouragement, nurturing and a home where they could shine and receive a new life.
“These eight women you met earlier are very incredible ladies and they—the women of Angie’s House—wanted to do something special to thank Lucas, something personal and unique. With that in mind, they’ve—no, we’ve—prepared something to tell him what Angie’s House has meant to those of us who have been blessed to call this special place our home. So…without further ado, if you’ll please turn your attention to the windows, we’d like to present an Angie’s House art show.”
Riches to Rags Bride Page 14
