Hideaway
Page 18
Parris placed her fingertips over his mouth. “You have it all planned out, don’t you?
“Because I’m methodical and practical, Parris. I have to think of Regina’s future. Every child a Cole brings forth into this world is provided for, and a plan is put into place for them the moment the infant draws their first breath. It’s always been and always will be that way.”
Parris lay motionless, reflecting that if she married Martin it would make her a Cole and afford her all of the privileges which would give her the protection she needed for herself and Regina.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll stay with you.”
Martin felt lightheaded with relief. “Does that mean you will marry me?” he asked slowly.
She nodded, biting down on her lower lip. There was a moment of strained silence before she said, “Yes.”
Martin moved over her body, supporting his weight on his elbows as he cradled her face between his hands. His gaze made a slow journey over every inch of her face.
“When?” he asked.
Parris stared back at him, registering the leashed tension in his body and the apprehension in his gaze. “Soon.”
He flashed his dimpled smile as tiny lines fanned out around his eyes. “How about New Year’s Eve?”
She shrugged a delicate shoulder. “It sounds good to me.”
She savored the pressure of Martin’s body as he pressed her down to the mattress, his mouth busily exploring her neck and shoulders.
“Everything will be different this time,” he murmured.
“I don’t want it to be different, Martin,” Parris gasped as the heat from his mouth seared her breast. “I want it to be better than before.”
He heard the sound before she did and he sprang from her body, sliding down on his pillow and pulling the sheet up over his chest. Regina stood in the doorway, staring at her parents.
“I knocked,” Regina said quickly, staring at the two pairs of eyes watching her.
Parris recovered quickly, gesturing. “Come here, angel.” She patted the space between her and Martin.
Regina raced across the bedroom and crawled onto the bed. She lay atop the sheet between her parents.
Martin pulled her unbound ponytail and kissed her forehead. “Merry Christmas, cupcake.”
Regina kissed his stubbled cheek. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.” Turning to Parris, she kissed her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Mommy.” She held up her left arm and peered at the watch on her wrist.
“Daddy, did you know that as of today December twenty-fifth that Mars is in conjunction with the sun, over 225 million miles away from the earth?”
Martin shifted his sweeping eyebrows. “Does your watch tell you that?”
Regina compressed her lips in a gesture of annoyance. “Don’t be silly, Daddy. The watch can’t tell me that. I just know that,” she said smugly.
Martin looked embarrassed. “What does the watch tell you?”
Regina stared at her mother’s Christmas gift to her. “It can tell you all of the phases of the moon at any time of the month. It can also tell you what time it is in any part of the world at any time. My watch tells me the day, date and of course the time.”
He was impressed. “Tell me more about the planets.”
“Mercury will begin the new year at the edge of the morning twilight, and dives deeper toward the sun as the month passes. Near the end of January it will be an evening star. Venus starts the new year as a brilliant evening star.”
Martin stared at his daughter, his mouth gaping slightly. “Good gravy, where did you learn all of this stuff about the stars and planets?”
“Mommy took me to the planetarium in New York City. She bought me some books and I did a lot of reading.”
“You like astronomy?”
Regina rested her head on his pillow. “I like science. I’m not sure what I want to be when I grow up.”
“You can be whatever you want to be,” Martin reassured her.
“It’s been a good Christmas,” Regina said, smiling.
“It’s going to be a better new year because we’re all going to be together,” Martin stated, smiling at his daughter.
“Really?”
Parris pressed her head to Regina’s and told her that she and Martin were getting married. Regina didn’t seem as excited about her parents’ upcoming nuptials as she was about living in Florida. It had taken less than twenty-four hours for her forget about returning to New York to inform her classmates that she had learned to swim in the ocean while vacationing in Jamaica.
“Who do you think you are coming here?”
“I am whomever the hell you want me to be, old man.”
Samuel felt an uncontrollable rage he could never explain whenever he encountered Joshua Kirkland. There was something about the younger man that reminded him too much of himself when he was Joshua’s age. They were both so much alike it was frightening. However, it still could not explain his hatred for the arrogant human being who dared to defy him again and again.
The blood rushed to Samuel’s face, as a tic tortured his left eye. He could barely tolerate Joshua’s presence, but M.J. could not. Why of all days did he have to show up?
“You picked a bad time to come visiting. We’re having a private family gathering, and you’re not welcome.”
Joshua’s feral grin should’ve been a warning as his left hand moved with startling speed, applying deadly pressure to Samuel Cole’s exposed throat, thumb and forefinger tightening against the vital area. He achieved his desired reaction as the large man slumped weakly against his body in pain.
“I’ve been invited to a wedding, Sammy,” Joshua whispered savagely. He supported the older man’s massive bulk. “Not you or anyone else will keep me from attending.” He released Samuel’s throat. “Stay the hell away from me or so help me I’ll make M.J. a widow.”
Samuel, gasping, tried filling his lungs with much needed oxygen while Joshua brushed past him to take the staircase leading to Martin’s apartment. The maid who had answered the door stood watching in horror. When she had opened the door she silently admired the tall, slender, well-dressed man, never thinking he would try to murder her employer.
“What the hell are you looking at?” Samuel shouted at the startled woman. “Get out of here!”
M.J. walked into the entry just in time to hear her husband shouting. “What’s going on, Sammy?”
Samuel shot his wife an angry glare. “Martin invited him.”
“You’re not making sense, Sammy.”
M.J.’s soft voice grated on Samuel’s taut nerve endings. “That Kirkland bastard.”
Her thin nostrils flared in rage. “How could he, Sammy? It’s not enough that Martin’s marrying that woman, but he also has to have that…that…” M.J. was unable to come up with an appropriate description. Her slender manicured hands curled into fists, her dark eyes narrowing. “The sooner this is over, the better.”
Her heels mirrored her anger as they clattered noisily on the marble flooring as she stalked away from her frowning husband.
The sun shone brightly for Martin and Parris’s wedding, yet for Samuel and Marguerite Cole the day had become as gloomy as a dark, storm-swept sky.
It was her wedding day and Parris hadn’t begun to change out of her jeans and blouse and into her dress. She heard footsteps and turned to find a pair of pale green eyes watching her. She took in the suntanned face, bleached hair and the lithe body in an expertly tailored dark suit.
“Hello, Joshua.” She was surprised at her calm greeting when her heart was racing erratically. A week’s absence had made him more attractive, and disturbing, than she’d remembered.
He inclined his blond head. “Parris.”
She gestured to him. “Come in. Please sit down.”
Joshua folded his lean body down onto a plush armchair, crossing one leg over the other. “How do you feel?”
Parris moved over and sat down on a matching chair. “Great.” Her brown eyes
sparkled. “Do you think I’ll make a presentable bride?”
Joshua nodded. “Your tan looks terrific,” he remarked. “How’s Regina?”
Parris stared at the denim fabric covering her knees. “She’s like Martin. Everyone loves her.” Her head came up and she met Joshua’s gaze. “I hardly get a chance to be with my own daughter. If she’s not visiting with an aunt or uncle, it’s her grandparents and cousins.”
Joshua reached over, holding her hands gently within his. “Don’t worry too much. Having a family is still new to her. You’ll never lose her.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” She smiled when his lips parted in a warm smile for the first time.
“I know I’m right.” Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “I’ll let you get dressed for your big day.”
Parris was shocked by his show of affection. He didn’t appear as frightening as he had before.
“Martin’s in the library,” she called out when Joshua stood up to leave.
She left the chair and moved over to the bed, staring at her reflection in the mirrored doors of the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling closets. Her hair and face had been done earlier that morning when M.J. offered the services of her personal stylist. She was going to refuse then thought better of it because her soon-to-be mother-in-law had been overly polite and respectful whenever they encountered each other over the past week. A frenzy of activities had kept the two women apart from each other except at times whenever they shared an occasional evening meal.
Regina had been equally entertained, spending several days at Juliana’s and Nancy’s homes. She attended a recording session with David at a Miami studio, bubbling effusively when Regina realized her uncle was a popular musician.
She and Martin had discussed Regina’s education, deciding to enroll her in a private school in West Palm Beach until they moved to their permanent residence.
Parris favored Fort Lauderdale and Martin barely acknowledged her recommendation with a shrug of his broad shoulders. This attitude was evident whenever she asked for his opinion, and she stopped asking.
It was as if they’d reversed roles. Now he was the private person. She saw what she didn’t see three weeks ago. The ten-year separation had changed Martin when she found herself waiting for bits and pieces of information to filter down to reveal his plan for their future. The open, spontaneous man was now cautious, even secretive.
She had agreed to leave New York, her home, her job and all that had been familiar for the past ten years for her daughter’s emotional well-being. She had become the martyr while Martin had become a stranger.
Martin had become the nervous bridegroom while she’d managed to forestall the attack of jitters she experienced twelve years ago. She couldn’t help but parallel this wedding day to the one when she married Owen. His moods had vacillated from depression to euphoria and she blamed it on nerves, for the both of them.
Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them back before they stained her carefully made-up face. What no one knew was that her honeymoon never began because Owen had been unable to consummate his marriage. He tried day after day, then gave up all pretense, falling asleep beside her tense body.
She had accidentally stumbled upon the reason for Owen’s impotency when she awakened late one night and saw him in the bathroom, bent over her dressing table, inhaling several lines of white powder on the formica top. Suddenly everything was clear to her. Her husband was addicted to cocaine. She now knew the cause of his mood swings, his lack of appetite and his impotency.
She confronted him and he stared at her with a silly smile on his face. He lied, saying it was his first time trying it and she wanted to scream at him for thinking she was that naive. She issued an ultimatum: go into treatment. She gave him exactly thirty days to sign himself into a drug abuse program or she was going to annul their marriage.
The lies and the excuses continued until she began packing. Then she issued her last ultimatum: give her a divorce or she was going to his superiors at the West Palm Beach Police Department. Her freedom for her silence. Owen finally agreed, her lips sealed with his secret.
But this day was different. She was marrying a man she loved. Joshua would be their witness and Regina her bridesmaid. Other than Brittany and Jon Grant, who’d relocated to the west coast, she had no other close friends or family members to invite.
Martin walked into the bedroom and Parris turned, smiling at him. “Tradition says it’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony,” she teased.
“Since when have we ever been traditional, darling? We’ve lived together, have a nine-year-old child and reside together under my parent’s roof without the benefit of marriage. All that in the face of tradition.” Extending his hand, he pulled her from the bed. He kissed the end of her nose. “If you ever get traditional on me, I’d go crazy with boredom.”
Parris pressed closer to his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. The smell of soap and after-shave clung to his smooth cheek. “I won’t change on you, Martin.”
Martin pulled back. He stared down into the clear brown eyes with just a hint of green in their depths. She wore his Christmas gift in her pierced ears. No jewel or amount of money could come close to the love he felt for her. His black eyes touched her glossy dark hair, curled, pinned up and festooned with delicate baby’s breath. His heated gaze added color to the soft plum blush on her high cheekbones.
“I love you, Parris. I love you more than life itself,” he admitted passionately. “Parris…” He hesitated. He couldn’t begin their life together knowing he owed it to her to reveal his political aspirations. “I’ve got to talk to you,” he continued.
She reached up, straightening the navy and silver striped tie under the collar of his stark-white shirt. “I have to get dressed. Everyone’s waiting for us.”
“They can’t have a wedding without the bride and groom, can they?” he questioned.
Parris registered the sharp retort. Suddenly she felt his tension. “What is it, Martin?”
He pulled her down to the bed beside him, holding her hands tightly. “I’m leaving the family business!”
Her eyes widened at this disclosure. “Why? Who’s going to succeed you?”
This time Martin did not hesitate. “I’ve been grooming David to take over…”
“But he’s a musician,” Parris interrupted.
“He’s a Cole, Parris. He’s inherited Sammy’s instinct for business whether he wants to admit it or exploit it. He’s learned more in three months than I ever did in five years of college.” There was a lethal calmness in the obsidian eyes. “I’m going into politics,” he declared.
“Politics?” An icy chill shook Parris, and she wanted to wrap her arms around her body. “Is that what you meant when you said you needed a wife?”
“No, Parris,” he started. “You don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand, Martin.” Her voice was low, filled with anger. “You don’t really love me. All those years…”
Martin released her, rising to his feet and towering over her bowed head. “What I feel now was what I felt ten years ago. I want you because I love you. And my wanting or needing you has nothing to do with Regina or politics.”
Parris stood up. “Well, Mr. Politician, it looks as if you’ve managed your first fait accompli. I don’t like being treated as if my feelings or opinions don’t matter. You completed this deal without letting your opponent know the terms that were to be negotiated.”
“You’re not my opponent, Parris.”
“Of course not, Martin,” she drawled. “I’m only the woman you need to marry. And because you need a wife, you’re going to get one. Let’s go and get his farce over with.”
The moustache hid Martin’s intense upper lip as it tightened. He didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly hadn’t been Parris’s apathetic attitude to becoming his wife.
“You don’t like it, so why the hell are you marrying me, Parris?”
�
��Because of Regina,” she said coldly. “And because I’m a fool for loving you, Martin Cole.”
She had declared her love for him but instinct told Martin that, just like Owen Lawson, his entrée into politics would serve as a wedge to keep them apart. He would have Parris the wife and not Parris the woman.
Chapter 23
Parris stood beside Martin, repeating her vows as the judge performed the private civil ceremony in the cooler, shaded magnificence of the loggia.
The setting was ethereal. Large baskets of white flowers in every variety crowded the travertine flooring and the bright orange rays of the setting sun reflecting off the lake threw a strange fiery glow on coral columns and exposed beams and any light-colored surface.
A dress of white organdy, with a large scalloped collar, exposed the smooth length of Parris’s long neck, meeting at a deep V at the hollow of her breasts, flamed like gold. Full sleeves with three inch cuffs, a two-tiered scalloped full skirt and a wide white sash emphasized the narrowness of her waist and created an aura of innocence and unabashed sensual femininity.
The taste of brandy on Martin’s lips was heady and pleasant when he gathered her to his chest, sealing their troth. Handing her bouquet of white roses and lilies to Regina, Parris leaned down to kiss her.
Regina stared up at her mother. “You look pretty, Mommy.”
Regina’s black hair was a curling mass falling down her back to her waist. Miniature white carnations on mother-of-pearl combs held the curls off her face.
Parris smiled. “Thank you. You look very beautiful too, angel.”
“I’ll see you later, Mommy.” Regina’s attention was diverted as she waved to a cousin who had called out to her. “Bye, Daddy.”
Samuel touched Parris’s arm. “Welcome to the family.” He pulled her into an embrace, kissing her cheek. His body was still hard, solid for a man who had recently celebrated his sixty-fifth birthday.
“Thank you, Sammy.”
Samuel’s gaze swept quickly over her face. “My son has exceptional taste in women.”