Building Dreams

by Ginna Gray

  Molly gurgled and flashed a toothless grin.

  Checking her appearance in the hall mirror, Tess groaned. Her blouse was askew from Molly's twisting and their recent play session had left her hair a mess. She ran her fingers through the tangled strands and straightened her blouse as best she could, retucking the tail and patting the crumpled collar point that had fallen victim to her daughter's fat little fist. She rubbed ineffectually at the damp blotch of drool on the shoulder of the garment before giving up with an exasperated hiss. "Oh, who cares, anyway."

  Molly bounced and crowed her agreement.

  Hitching the baby a little higher, Tess set her jaw, stepped to the door and snatched it open. She stared coldly at the tall, blond man. "Hello, Charles."

  An ingratiating smile lit her brother-in-law's handsome face, but his eyes were wary. "Tess. How nice to see you again."

  "Really? I'm sorry I can't say the same."

  He flushed and had the grace to look chagrined. "I can understand that. You have every right to be angry and upset. My parents handled this situation pooriy. They realize that now. That's why I'm here."

  "Situation? Molly is not a situation, Charles. She's a person." Instinctively, Tess's arm tightened around her child and her chin came up a notch higher. Molly took exception to the confining hold and let loose a shrill whine.

  Charles Benson's gaze dropped to the infant for the first time. "So. You had a girl. She's lovely, Tess."

  "What do you want, Charles?"

  "I'd like to talk to you."

  Her icy demeanor did not thaw by so much as a d^ree. "I don't think so."

  "Please. Just hear me out, Tess. Give me a chance to set things right. That's all I ask."

  She tried to steel herself against him, but the earnest plea and the contrition in his eyes tugged at her. Tess thought of the warmth and closeness the McCalls and Blaines shared. The Bensons might never offer her daughter that kind of familial comfort and love, but they were the only family Molly had. Tess knew, only too well, how dreadful it felt to be all alone.

  She sighed. She supposed she owed it to Molly to at least listen to what he had to say. "All right, I guess you can come in," she said, and stepped back, motioning him inside.

  "Well... actually..." His gaze flickered uncomfortably to Molly, whose fretting was increasing in volume and intensity. "It would be better if we could go somewhere, just the two of us. Perhaps I could take you to dinner tonight. Somewhere nice and quiet where we could relax and talk with no interruptions."

  "I don't know—"

  "Please, Tess. This is important."

  "Well... maybe I could get my neighbor to baby-sit."

  "Splendid." Charles brightened at once, his smile full of urbane charm. "I'll pick you up at seven."

  ❧

  The minute Ryan and Charles set eyes on one another, Tess could feel the hostility between the two men. During

  her introduction they shook hands and muttered curt hel-los but the antipathy in their eyes and body language spoke volumes. They bristled like two savage male animals, cir-chng in on one another for the kill.

  Fearing they would come to blows, Tess hustled her brother-in-law out as quickly as she could.

  "Do you really think that man is a proper baby-sitter for Molly?" he questioned the minute they left her apartment. "He seems a trifle rough around the edges if you ask me."

  As annoyed as Tess was with Ryan, she was not about to let anyone, especially an elitist snob like Charles Benson, criticize him.

  "But then, I didn't ask you, did I, Charles? However, just to set the record straight, let me assure you that Ryan McCall is a decent, kind man. There is no one in the world I trust more."

  No fool, Charles read the warning loud and clear and adroitly changed the subject.

  After that, the tension eased and Tess began to actually enjoy herself. Though Charles lived in Boston, he came to Houston often enough on business to know all the best places to dine. He took her to Tony's, an exquisite French restaurant on South Post Oak Lane, where the ambience was elegant, the service excellent and the food superb.

  The conversation over dinner was pleasant but general. Charles turned out to be a sophisticated and entertaining companion. He possessed a quick intelhgence and a smooth wit, and by the time coffee was served, Tess was pleasantly relaxed. It was then that Charles finally broached the subject they had come there to discuss.

  "Tess, I want you to know that my parents feel simply terrible about the way they responded when they learned of the baby. It's just that... well... they had not fully recovered from losing Tom and when your announcement came lout of the blue like that..." He shrugged and spread his hands. "It caught them so completely off-guard they responded with a knee-jerk reaction.

  "Now that they've had time to think things over, they realize how wrong they were. They asked me to convey their sincere apology, and to assure you that they're delighted to have a granddaughter. I talked to them after I saw you this afternoon and told them about Molly. They were thrilled, Tess."

  "I see." Tess's smile was non-committal. She doubted that Harold and Enid Benson's sudden acceptance of Molly had as much to do with cooler thinking and an attack of conscience as the shocking discovery that Tess wasn't interested in their money.

  "They're hoping that you will forgive them." Charles reached across the table and took her hands between his. He looked deep into her eyes, his expression at once persuasive and pleading. "Do you think you could do that, Tess? It would mean so much to them."

  She hesitated. His parents had insulted her on a deep, personal level. That was not easy to forgive. Still, Tess knew it was the only way they would ever mend the rift between them. She sighed. "I suppose I can try—for Molly's sake."

  "That's great." Charles gave her hand a squeeze and his eyes grew warm. "They'll be so happy. Mom and Dad want to see Molly, become a part of her life."

  "That might be a bit difficult. But I suppose that we could come for a visit now and then when she's a little older."

  "Actually.. .we were thinking—hoping, at any rate—of something more than just a visit."

  Tess was instantly on guard, but when she started to withdraw her hands from his he held them fast. "Tess, we would like for you and Molly to move to Boston. That way we can take care of you. As Tom's family, we feel a moral obligation to look after his wife and child, now that he's gone."

  So... that was it. Her instincts had told her there was more to this evening than met the eye.

  Her smile was polite but this time she firmly withdrew her hands from his grasp. "I appreciate the offer, Charles, but-"

  "Please, Tess, don't give me your final answer just yet. This is a very important decision. Give yourself time to think about it. Consider all the advantages there would be— for Molly and yourself. At least promise me you'll do that much."

  It was a reasonable request. Tess knew that time would not change her mind, but it seemed churlish to refuse outright. "All right, I'll think about it."

  "Great. I'm glad. You know ... Mother and Dad, of course, are anxious to get to know their granddaughter." His gaze trailed over her hair, her neck and shoulders, then moved to her lips and lingered there. A slight smile tipped up the corners of his mouth, and his voice dropped to a husky pitch. "I, on the other hand, have my own reasons for hoping you will make the move."

  Tess would have to be a fool not to know that Charles found her attractive. The warm gleam in his eyes and his fulsome compliments had made that obvious all evening.

  Nor was she totally immune to him. Charles was handsome and charming, after all. And it had been a long time since any man had shown that kind of interest in her. Ryan certainly did not. He desired her, but he resented doing so. In her brother-in-law's gaze there was only admiration and pleasurable anticipation, and she had to admit, she was flattered.

  However, Tess knew that nothing would ever come of it. No matter how good Charles was for her ego, he was not Ryan, and it seemed her he
art would accept no other.

  For that reason she merely smiled and let the remark pass without comment. Disappointment flickered in Charles's eyes, but he wisely did not pursue the subject.

  A short while later outside her apartment door, he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and left her with a reminder that he would be back in a month or so and they would talk again.

  ❧

  She found Ryan watching the news on television.

  "Hi," she called from the entry. After hanging her coat in the closet she walked into the living room and smiled when he looked up.

  His expression was set, but his eyes raked slowly over her, from the top of her swinging pageboy, down over the simple black sheath dress all the way to the black pumps on her feet. The silent inspection set off a fluttering in her stomach but Tess ignored it and settled into the Queen Anne chair.

  "Ahh, that feels wonderful," she groaned, slipping off the high heel shoes, and wriggUng her toes. "I hope Molly didn't give you any trouble.''

  "None. She's sleeping like an angel." He punched a button on the remote and the TV screen went blank. "So? How did the talk go?"

  "Fine. Charles apologized profusely, said his parents were sorry and wanted to be friends and get to know Molly. So for her sake I accepted," she said, giving him an expurgated version.

  "And that's all there was to it?"

  "Well...not exactly. Charles and his parents want Molly and me to move to Boston."

  Five full seconds of silence ticked by. "I see," he said finally in a voice like steel.

  "I'm not going to, of course."

  "Did you tell him that?"

  "Yes... well ... I did agree to think about it. But only to pacify him," she tacked on hastily when something flared in Ryan's eyes. "It seemed easier than arguing. The next time he comes to town I'll tell him my decision is definitely no."

  "And you think he's going to just accept that?"

  "Why wouldn't he?"

  "Because the man wants you, dammit." Tess could not control the blush that swept over her face, and Ryan's eyes narrowed. "But then, I see that you already knew that didn't you?"

  "No! At least, not until tonight. And anyway, why are you angry with me? I'm not responsible for Charles's feelings."

  "If you didn't want the man panting after you, then why the hell did you wear that damned dress."

  "What?" Flabbergasted, Tess looked down at the simple black sheath. "What's wrong with this dress?"

  "Nothing, if you're trying to raise a man's blood pressure. And it sure worked on good old Charlie, didn't it. When he walked in and saw you in that little number, his eyes nearly popped right out of his head."

  Tess was both hurt and resentful. It had been over a year since she'd had an opportunity to dress up and go out to dinner in a nice restaurant. She had worked hard at trimming down and firming up since Molly had been born and it felt good to know that she looked nice. The dress was form fitting but it had long sleeves and a simple scooped neckline. It was elegant and classy and she felt feminine and attractive wearing it, but it certainly was not a blatant come-on, as Ryan had implied.

  Her chin jutted, but before she could give voice to the angry reply forming on her tongue, Ryan went on.

  "Was that what you were hoping for? That you'd catch Charles's attention? What's the deal, Tess? Does he resemble Tom? You can't have your dead husband back so you'll settle for his brother? Is that it?"

  She gasped and shot to her feet. "That's a rotten thing to say!"

  Ryan sprang up as well, bounding off the sofa like an uncoiling spring. "What's the matter, did I hit too close to the truth?"

  "Certainly not! Just because you don't like my dress and you and Charles clashed for some idiotic, macho reason that totally escapes me, that's no reason for you to insult me. I am not—in any way, shape or form—interested in my brother-in-law. Nor did I do anything to encourage him, and I resent your nasty accusations!"

  In her stockinged feet Tess was barely five foot three, a good foot shorter than Ryan, but the disparity in their sizes in no way intimidated her. She stood with her feet spread, hands on her hips, brown eyes flashing—one hundred and five pounds of quivering, indignant woman.

  "You sure as hell didn't do anything to discourage him. That guy's as slick as snake oil, with his smooth smile and his manicured nails and his custom-tailored silk shirt!" Ryan shouted, waving his arms. "I'll bet he's never done a hard day's work in his life. And dammit! I never said I didn't like your dress!"

  By the time he'd finished, Tess was so worked up she barely heard the last. "I don't have to take this!" She whirled, stomped into the entry and jerked the door open. Jutting her chin, she stabbed him with a cold look. "I think you'd better leave."

  Ryan closed the distance between them in four long strides. "I'll leave all right. But first..." He slapped the door with the flat of his palm and slammed it shut, jerking it right out of her hands. At the same time he hooked her waist with his other arm, hauled her against his chest and fastened his mouth on hers.

  It was like setting spark to tinder. The banked coals of desire that for months had glowed and crackled just below the surface ignited into flame at the first touch of their lips. All the anger and frustration that had been building inside Ryan instantly fueled the rough kiss into a roaring inferno.

  After her initial start of surprise, Tess caught fire as well. Making a desperate sound, she went up on tiptoe, locked her arms around his neck and kissed him back with equal intensity and heat. For several seconds they clutched one another, straining to get closer, their mouths hot and hard and hungry.

  Then as though by mysterious design, everything changed.

  The conflagration settled into a steady, consuming blaze. Hands that had grasped and clutched began to stroke. Taut bodies grew languid. Dueling tongues touched and tasted. Lips softened, rubbed, clung. Miraculously, the turbulent kiss turned to one of melting sweetness that suspended time and made them ache.

  Finally, their lips parted. Breathing heavily, their thunderous heartbeats roaring in their ears, they drew back and stared at one another, their faces slack with shock and confusion.

  After several taut seconds, Ryan snatched open the door and slammed out.

  Tess didn't move. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. Perhaps... perhaps she was being a fool. Perhaps she ought to honestly consider the Bensons' proposal. She obviously had no future with Ryan.

  ❧

  Ryan pounded on Reilly's door with his balled fist. He waited only a second, then pounded again. On the other side of the oak panel, the sounds reverberated through the darkened town house like thunder.

  "All right. All right, already," Reilly grumbled. "I'm coming!" He jerked the door open, and grimaced wryly.

  "Jeez, Hoss. What're you trying to do, knock my door do-"

  "I'm got to talk to you." Ryan brushed past him and strode inside.

  "Uh...look man, can this wait? I mean...well the truth is.. .you've kinda caught me at a bad time. You see—" Reilly glanced toward the living room, which was lit only by the glow of the crackling blaze in the fireplace, but when his gaze returned to Ryan he frowned. "Damn, Hoss. What's wrong? You look like hell."

  "That's what I-"

  "Reilly, honey? Did you get rid of whoever was at the door?" a feminine voice called.

  "Who the—" Ryan's head whipped toward the sound, then back to his twin. Belatedly, he noticed Reilly's mussed hair and the lipstick smudges around his mouth. He was shoeless, and his shirt was unbuttoned and pulled partway out of his jeans.

  Ryan grimaced. "Damn. I'm sorry, man. I didn't realize you weren't alone. I'll go."

  He started for the door, but Reilly stepped in front of him.

  "No, don't. I don't know what's buggin' you, Hoss, but I can see it's important. Look, just give me a few minutes. I'll send Sheila home in a cab, then we can talk."

  "I don't know-"

  "I do."

  "R
eilly? Where are you, sugar?"

  Reilly turned his brother toward the back of the town house, giving him a little shove. "Go on back to the kitchen. I'll be right there."

  For what seemed like an hour, but in reality was no more than fifteen minutes, Ryan paced back and forth across the small kitchen. He heard the voices from the front of the house. The woman's was raised and strident, screeching obscenities and insults. Mingled in between now and then came Reilly's placating murmur. Something crashed, shattering against the marble floor of the entry. At once, the voices increased in volume.

  Ryan grimaced. He felt bad about the situation. But dammit! He had to talk to Reilly!

  Without conscious thought, he had headed straight for his brother's place the instant he left Tess. He and Reilly might not have quite the telepathic link like that which existed between their twin cousins, Erin and Elise, but there was stiU a powerful connection between them. At the first hint of trouble or crisis, each instinctively sought the other.

  Finally the front door slammed. Seconds later, Reilly strolled into the kitchen. He shot Ryan a sheepish look. "Sorry about that."

  "No, man, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

  Reilly stopped him with an upraised hand. "Hey, don't sweat it, Hoss. To tell you the truth. Sheila wasn't doing a lot for my blood pressure anyway, so you did me a favor. And what a temper! I had no idea the woman was such a shrew."

  Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out two beers. "You look like you could use a stiff drink, but this is all I've got," he said, handing one to Ryan.

  Leaning back against the counter, Reilly crossed his bare feet at the ankles and flipped back the tab on the can. He had pulled his shirt completely out of his jeans, and the wrinkled tail of the unbuttoned garment hung around his hips, leaving a wide strip of bare chest and belly visible. A halfhearted attempt had been made to wipe away the lipstick smudges but a few smears remained and his hair still stuck out at all angles.