“She’s a terrible flyer,” he said. “Sat with a plastic bag at the ready the entire time.”
Brynna smiled, hearing the amused disgust in his voice. “Definitely not your kind of woman.”
“Definitely not.”
Did he still think Brynna was his kind of woman? she wondered. “Is your mother wearing a path in the carpet waiting for me?”
“No, I made her sit and watch a movie.”
She never knew when he was joking. “Which one?”
“Monsters, Inc. She loves it.”
Brynna couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at the image of Estelle watching one of the kids’ DVDs. “You’re putting me on, right?”
“Serious as a heart attack. She was making me nuts, so I sat her down with a bowl of popcorn.”
“Sounds like babysitting to me.”
“You’ve got that right.” Obviously he wasn’t saying more because his mother could hear him.
“Tell her I’m almost there. My bag is packed. Did you remember to pack a suit?”
“Yup.”
“Okay, well, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“The plane’s fueled and ready, we can take off any time.”
“Bye.” Brynna dropped the phone into her bag, wondering what the next several hours held in store.
Estelle was indeed ready, and Brynna barely had time to change and freshen up before they were on their way to the airfield. “I have guests coming, and a dozen last-minute arrangements to check on,” she said.
“You said this was a small dinner party, didn’t you?” Brynna asked, knowing the senior Holmeses had a cook and a housekeeper and that Estelle used a party planner regularly.
“Yes, dear, but one must stay on top of the help at all times. I’m a stickler for details and everything must be just so before the guests arrive.”
They reached the airfield and Dev parked. A Queensland heeler and a black lab darted from the hangar and greeted them with tails wagging and tongues licking.
Estelle drew up both hands against her chest and cringed. “Good gracious! Where did those creatures come from?”
“They adopted Lee Henderson, the guy who owns the airfield, a while back,” Dev explained.
Brynna knelt to stroke the dogs’ heads and scratch behind their ears. “What’s your name, boy?” she asked the heeler.
“That’s Spice,” Dev told her, giving the black lab the attention she was seeking. “She’s Sugar.”
Brynna laughed. “Cute. Sugar and Spice.”
“Are we going to get on the plane or stand in the sun all afternoon?” Estelle asked, her voice a disdainful accusation.
Dev opened the door, situated the folding stairs and helped his mother aboard. Once they were all seated, he started the engines, ran through his preflight check and handed the women headsets.
“Will you be showing another film?” Estelle asked.
Brynna laughed aloud at her dry humor, and even Dev put a grin on his face. The dimple in his cheek made her heart flutter foolishly. “I heard you liked Monsters, Inc.,” she said to Estelle.
Estelle lifted one brow in the same manner that Dev used so often. Her expression was haughty, however, where his was flirtatious, as she asked, “Is that what he told you?”
How had Dev become so calm and easygoing with a mother like Estelle? He hadn’t really spent that much time around her, Brynna remembered, adding another revealing link to the chain of explanation regarding how his upbringing had shaped him.
Brynna napped as best as she could with the engine noise and motion of the aircraft. She was exhausted from a near-sleepless night and a busy morning. In a state of half-consciousness, she again saw Dev standing in their darkened bedroom, heard his familiar voice using a tone she didn’t recognize: I forgive you.
No preamble, no explanation, just the words. The fact. He forgave her. She’d made him so angry, he’d thrown his wedding ring into the lake. But he’d for given her.
She looked over at him through slitted lashes. He wore his sunglasses and headset, his buoyant yet pre occupied expression one she’d seen only when he was piloting a plane. An occasional glance at the dials and gadgets on the dash showed diligent watchfulness.
This was where he loved to be, what he loved to do. She had sometimes felt jealous of the pursuit, as though flying was a threat to her the way another woman would have been.
Had he sometimes felt that way about her hours at the hospital—at the clinic? If he had, he’d never let on.
I forgive you. Coming from him in the wee hours of the morning. Had he contemplated those words all night? Had he lain awake as she had?
Just then, Dev glanced her way and caught her studying him. She couldn’t see his eyes because of the aviator glasses, but she felt his gaze on her face, her breasts…she knew how he looked at her…with appreciation and desire. She wished she could see his eyes, know for sure what lay within their green depths. Her body tingled instinctively at the thought of him looking at her that way.
If they were alone—if this was a few weeks ago, she would have reached over and removed his glasses to see the look in his eyes. She would have leaned toward him for a kiss…suggestively touched his thigh through the denim of his jeans, making promises for later.
Dev looked away and Brynna experienced the loss. How dismal to think of never feeling his arms around her again, never lying cuddled naked and entwined, never sharing fiery kisses or tender caresses, never hearing his utterances of praise and appreciation…the loss was so great, she experienced heartbreaking grief all over again.
She hadn’t thought this through, hadn’t realized the enormity of what she’d done in asking him to move out of their home. Every day that passed without him showed her the bleakness of her future without him.
She had believed that she’d done the best thing—that knowing he couldn’t commit to a family was more painful than losing him altogether. Had she been wrong?
Some time later, the sound of Dev radioing ahead and getting clearance at the airstrip broke into her thoughts. Seattle was overcast, but not rainy, and the weather when they got off the plane was fair.
Estelle’s driver was waiting for them with a black Lincoln Towncar, and within minutes they were headed for the Holmes estate.
“You’ll stay in Devlin’s former room, of course,” Estelle told them as they entered the enormous marble-floored foyer. “I think you’ll like what I’ve done with it. I’ve made a few changes suitable for a married couple.”
Ignoring Dev’s eyes, Brynna managed a smile and proceeded ahead of him up the stairs. He stood aside with their bags while she entered the room. “A few changes,” she said. The room was completely transformed. A polished, antique brass sleigh bed, piled high with a gold-and-jewel-toned comforter and pillows, was draped at the corners by gauzy curtains hung from the ceiling. Brynna walked over to the full-size fur throw at the foot of the bed and stroked the luxurious mink. “Is it real?”
“Probably acrylic, look at the back.”
She turned over one edge. “Fake.”
“Faux,” he corrected. “Sacrificing animals for profit is politically incorrect.”
“Of course.” The furniture pieces, including a huge armoire, were distressed black with antique brass hardware and designed with hand-painted birds and foliage.
“You’d never know I’d ever been here, would you?” he said drily.
“It makes a nice guest room.” She fingered the gauzy material draped from the ceiling.
“It would make nice decor for a sultan’s tent,” he commented.
Brynna chuckled and kicked off her sandals, feet sinking into plush tobacco-colored carpet.
He examined two pedestal boxes with leopard-skin designs and scrolled brass lids. “She didn’t pick this stuff out herself.”
Brynna opened her overnight bag and placed items on the bathroom vanity beside a bronze sculpture of a near-naked maiden dressed in copper leaves. “Whoever picked it out has…un
usual taste.”
“And a fat bank account—now.”
Dev had hung his suit and her dress in the closet and placed the rest of their items in one of the huge bureaus when she joined him again.
Their eyes met.
They were alone. With an enormous, lushly appointed bed four feet away.
Chapter Eighteen
Brynna pointedly ignored the bed.
I forgive you.
The image of him coming into their bedroom and waking her to say those words was impressed on her mind for all time. She hadn’t acknowledged him, and they hadn’t spoken of it again…they hadn’t been alone. Until now.
I forgive you.
How much of an internal struggle had it taken to force him up those stairs and into that room with those words on his mind?
He had never said he didn’t love her. Had never said he didn’t want her. It had been his actions that had spoken to her more plainly than any words could have. She hadn’t come first. Her pregnancy had been an inconvenience.
Had she been too hurt to listen to what he was really saying?
“We have time for a little sightseeing or a drive before we have to get ready for dinner,” he said, obviously ready to get them out of this room.
“I’d like to take a walk,” she suggested. “See the Sound, maybe take a ferry.”
“Can do,” he agreed.
They changed into shorts and cotton shirts, and Dev backed a red convertible sports car out of the multicar garage and headed for Puget Sound. The sun had broken through the clouds and warmed Brynna as well as lifting her spirits. The landscape was green and lush in contrast to the dry browns of drought-stricken Montana, the air blue and clear, reminding her of the fire threatening her hometown.
Up ahead the docks and the Sound came into view, accompanied by the sounds of gulls and air horns.
“Do we have time for a ferry ride?” she asked Dev. “It was just a suggestion.”
“It’s only about thirty-five minutes to Bainbridge Island. We’ll stroll a bit and then come back. We have plenty of time.”
He found a parking place, bought them each a cappuccino from a small shop, and they boarded the ferry. Dev paid and led her up an escalator to the sun deck. Minutes later, they were sailing. Brynna sipped the delicious sweet brew and enjoyed the sun on her face, the throb of the engine and the sound of the lapping water. Gulls swooped and cawed, some dipped toward the shoreline while others followed the ferry.
The incredible skyline took her breath away. Lush vegetation lined the shore as far as the eye could see. “I feel like I’ve stepped into a postcard,” she said.
“If I had a camera, I’d make you a postcard,” he told her, leaning against the back of the bench and studying her. The wind blew a tress of hair into the corner of her mouth and he leaned toward her to drag it away. She studied him, surprised at the touch, but still couldn’t see his eyes. Her cheek tingled where his finger had grazed.
Dev had never seen anything as beautiful as Brynna, her honey-blond hair shining in the sunlight, her skin glowing from the warmth of the afternoon. The day was as near-perfect as he could expect, flying with her, taking a drive, sailing across Puget Sound on a ferry…although a couple of things could have made the day better. They could have made the flight alone… They could have ripped off their clothes and set that sultan’s bed on fire…
He studied her from behind the covert safety of his sunglasses, appreciating the soft curves of her breasts beneath her thin shirt, noticing her sleek thighs in those sexy white shorts. His perusal coming back to her face, he imagined the remembered pleasures of those full pink lips. More than anything, he wanted to touch her…even just a simple caress of her cheek or her hand…but he no longer felt free to do so, and the loss was another torture to endure.
She returned the examination with a question in her expression, and, taking him by surprise, she leaned forward, removed his sunglasses, then sat back and continued her perusal.
“I like to know when you’re looking at me,” she said.
“I like to look at you.”
He gave her curvy body another lazy once-over, ending with his attention on her mouth. Her cheeks flushed with more color than the sun and wind could have caused in such a short time. Was she embarrassed…or excited? He had learned to recognize the signs of her arousal, and noted them now.
Her lips were parted, her cheeks blushing…and through the fabric of her shirt he identified the hardened peaks of her nipples. She saw him looking and blushed even redder. She was anything but immune to him, he thought, privately satisfied. They’d been hot for each other since the moment they’d met, and just sitting here looking at each other had them both aroused.
She handed him his sunglasses and changed positions on the bench, looking across the water and leaning forward, one palm on either side of the seat, as though she could hide her reaction. She couldn’t. He knew.
Dev slipped his dark glasses back on and turned his attention to the scenery. This was turning out to be a very promising day.
Arriving on Bainbridge Island, they strolled for awhile, stopping for ice-cream cones, then Dev bought fares and they boarded a ferry to return. He watched Brynna enjoy the treat, licking dollops of strawberry ice cream, and the sensual sight affected him physically.
He missed her. He missed seeing her fresh out of the shower, her hair wet and her skin pink and moist. He missed sleeping curled around her, her fine bottom tucked into his groin. He missed the way she laughed at his teasing, the way she smiled her sleepy thanks when he brought her a cup of tea in the evening. He missed making love to her. And that affected him emotionally.
She caught him looking at her. “What are you thinking?”
“I was thinking about that little sound you make.”
“What sound?”
“Sort of a catch in your throat, sort of a sob almost…you do it every time…”
She knew what he was talking about. She lowered the cone. Her gaze, now a sultry sienna, raked his features and focused on his mouth.
He smiled.
She swallowed.
He cheered silently. She wanted him as badly as she ever had. And he loved her so damned much he’d walk back to Montana if it would prove anything to her.
His grin widened. He was glad they’d come to Seattle. He had her all to himself for another day—well, aside from fifty ritzy party guests and his parents—and a lot could happen in a day…and a night. A lot.
Back at the house, Dev gave her privacy to shower and dress for the party by taking his clothing and shaving gear to another room. Once ready, he shrugged into his jacket and descended the stairs to survey the layout. At the bar, which had been set up outdoors near the lighted pool, he mixed two drinks and carried the glasses up.
Brynna had finished dressing and was fastening the strap on a white high-heeled sandal adorned with a fabric rose when he entered the room. Leaning forward with her knee bent, her foot propped on an ottoman, the entire length of her leg was exposed. He stared. She finished the task and straightened, the white dress disappointingly draping to cover her legs.
The clingy white garment sort of wrapped across itself in the front and looked to be barely held closed at her hip with a white satin rose like the ones on her shoes. Some sort of appliqué adorned the fabric at her hip, and ribbons hung from the flower.
The style gave the impression that the seductive thing would open at the least tug on those ribbons. His mouth went dry.
The dress was long, ankle-length, but when she walked across the room, the side opened to again reveal the long length of her leg, all the more enticing because he knew the hidden delights firsthand.
She stood before a mirror to adjust her gold earrings, but instead of looking at herself in the reflection, she stared at him. He’d chosen dark trousers and a matching jacket with a soft shirt that didn’t require a tie. He remembered the glasses in his hands and handed her one, their fingers brushing.
“Than
k you.”
“To all the sultans in Seattle,” he said, gesturing with his drink to the room in which they stood.
“May we be long gone before they discover their fur is faux,” she added, raising her glass in the toast.
He had started to take a drink and laughingly choked on the first sip. He reached into his breast pocket for a handkerchief.
Smiling, Brynna hurried to take the monogrammed handkerchief from his fingers and dab his chin, then the lapel of his jacket. She smelled like almond shampoo and woman and sultry carnal pleasure, and he could have taken her right then and there, so immediate was his arousal.
But it was too soon, and the night lay before them. He intended to enjoy it. And her.
“We could slip out back and walk in the gardens before we have to mingle with guests,” he said. “The bar’s out there.”
“And you know what a big drinker I am,” she replied.
Grinning, he ushered her to the door. He knew what had happened the last time she’d had a few too many drinks, and he hadn’t minded a bit.
She linked her arm through his and a buoyant expectation rippled through him. For the first time in weeks her eyes were twinkling and she wasn’t looking at him as though he’d intentionally ripped out her heart and left her bleeding to death.
The multilevel pool was lit from within, and strings of multicolored lights had been draped between poles that lined the perimeter of the flagstone-paved pool area. The pool had a waterfall, with a private heated basin surrounded by greenery on an upper level. “Want to sneak a swim later after everyone is gone?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she replied without committing.
Sounds of instruments warming up caught their attention. Brynna looked at him with a question.
Dev stepped to the French doors and spotted a tuxedoed string quartet.
“A small dinner party, huh?” Brynna said from beside him.
“You should see the really big shindigs,” he replied.
It wasn’t long before guests began arriving. Dev politely joined his parents to greet the guests and introduce Brynna. Every time he said “my wife” he avoided her eyes. She smiled and made small talk and received appreciative glances from all the men.
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