by Janet Dailey
"That's funny — I thought I just did," he countered with a laughing glint in his eye.
"You know what I mean," she retorted impatiently.
"But do you know what I mean?" His voice was wistfully soft and enigmatic.
Its tug on her heartstrings was more than she could bear. Agitatedly she rose from her chair, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.
"There isn't any point to this conversation," she insisted. "Everything has been said. Our little interlude, affair, whatever you want to call it, is over. You are free to go your way and I'm free to go mine."
"Is that the way you want it?" Cole sounded skeptical.
Lacey knew she had to convince him somehow that it was what she wanted, even though she knew with all her heart that it wasn't.
"Yes, that is the way I want it," she repeated stiffly. "So I don't see what there is for us to discuss."
In a fluid move, Cole was behind her, his hands settling lightly on her shoulders to turn her to face him. Lacey could find no strength to resist his undemanding touch.
"The point to this conversation is that I miss you," he said quietly. He ran his gaze over her face, and she caught her breath at the fires smoldering in his eyes. "It's been pure and simple misery since you left. You're not there in the mornings anymore to wake me up when I sleep through the alarm. No coffee, no orange juice made. I never minded before coming home to an empty house, but I do now after having you there to greet me. And in the evenings, I can't get any work done without you sitting quietly in a nearby chair."
"You make me sound as if I've become a habit." There was a painful lump in her throat, choking her.
"A very pleasurable habit that I don't want to give up," Cole responded, stroking a hand over her cheek into the silken brown of her hair.
"What are you suggesting, Cole?" Tears were misting her eyes when she met his look, doubt stealing pleasure from his words. "That we should resume our arrangement of living together, throwing out the ground rules?"
"And if I said yes, what would you say?" That glowing look in his eyes was tugging at her heart.
Lacey struggled with her pride. "I would say, thanks but no thanks. I'm not interested in taking on a lover at the present time." Just for a moment she weakened to ask, "That is what you're suggesting, isn't it?"
"In a sense, yes." His slow smile was disarming. "I want to marry you, Lacey. I want you to be my wife."
"Oh!" The tiny word escaped in an indrawn breath of surprise as she melted slightly against him. "Are you serious? What about Monica?"
"Monica?" A curious frown creased his forehead. "Why should she have anything to do with it?"
"I don't know." She was confused and uncertain about the conclusion she had previously drawn. "You dined with her all last week, didn't you?"
"At her parents' home, yes, and she was at the table, but it was her father I was meeting, not Monica," Cole explained in amusement. "Who told you I was there? Vic, I suppose."
"Yes," Lacey nodded, and sighed when his arm tightened around her waist. "He said that ever since you broke your engagement with Monica, you had continued to go on seeing her."
"And you believed him," he concluded.
"I believed him. You were there at the hotel with her, having lunch. He said your relationship with her had been an on-again, off-again affair and that I had met you during one of the off-again times. It seemed logical," Lacey said, trying to defend the erroneous conclusion she had reached.
"I should have known he would make mischief of some sort," he concluded, bending his head to brush his mouth over the warmth of her skin, teasingly near her lips. Her lashes fluttered in tempo with her heart. "I have business dealings with Carter Hamilton, her father. That's the only reason I was there."
Her hands slipped nearer to the collar of his shirt. "I didn't know," she whispered. "I thought — at the hotel, you looked so happy with her. Not like the other time when you were …"
"Rude, is that the word you're looking for?" Cole finished, mockingly. "That Sunday at the beach house, Monica arrived uninvited. I saw no reason to be polite to a woman who wasn't welcome in my home. And if you had the impression I was happy to be with her at the hotel, I'm a better actor than I realized. Regardless of how it looked, I was merely being polite to the daughter of a business associate, even if she's an ugly old crow."
"Monica's beautiful," Lacey protested.
"That, my love, is in the eye of the beholder," he corrected, drawing his head back to look at her. "When are you going to stop talking so I can kiss you?"
"Now."
Her hands slid around his neck as she raised herself on tiptoes to meet his descending mouth. Joy spilled over, lighting every corner of her world.
The taste of his mouth possessively covering hers was like a sweet wine that went to her head, and Lacey felt drunk with the rapture of love returned. When the kiss ended on a reluctant note, she rested her head on his shoulder, deliriously happy in a quiet kind of way.
"You haven't said you'll marry me yet." His voice was a husky tremor.
"Haven't I?" she returned with faint surprise. Tipping her head back, she smiled at his soberly rapt expression. "I will."
"Do you have any objection to a quick elopement?"
"None." She shook her head. She lifted a hand to let her fingertips trace the forceful line of his jaw. "Why did you let me leave last Thursday? You acted as if you were glad to see me go."
"I was." He caught her hand, lightly kissing the tips of her fingers. "It was sheer torture lying in bed at nights with you in the next room. If you'd stayed those last two nights, I knew I would throw those stupid ground rules out the window. When you decided to leave, I never expected you'd disappear. It turned out to be worse not knowing where you were or who you were with."
"I stayed at a girl friend's," Lacey said in answer to his unspoken question.
"While I went quietly out of my mind," Cole added wryly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"You should be," he declared with mock gruffness.
"I wasn't having an easy time of it, either, this weekend," Lacey reminded him. "I kept imagining you with Monica and wondering when I would read about your engagement in the newspapers."
"There has never been any reason for you to be jealous of Monica," Cole assured her.
"I know that … now." But she hoped she would never have to live through another weekend like that again.
The remembered pain must have been reflected in her eyes, because Cole's dark gaze became suddenly very intense. "Never forget that I love you, Lacey." He kissed her hard and fiercely, as if to drive out the painful memory so there would be room only for his love.
The interoffice door opened and Mike walked through, halting at the sight of the embracing pair. "Sorry. It was so quiet out here I thought you'd gone, Whitfield," he apologized, and started to retreat.
"There's no need to leave, Mike," said Cole. "Lacey and I were just going."
"What?" Mike frowned and Lacey stared at Cole in confusion and surprise.
"I'll have someone over to replace her in half an hour," Cole continued. "She's going to have a lot to do in the next few days. And after we're married, if she wants to be anyone's secretary, I'd rather have her be mine."
"But …" Lacey didn't know what protest she was about to make since she didn't really object to Cole's plan.
"In the meantime," Cole interrupted, "there's something I want to show her."
She forgot all about Mike and how he would get along without a secretary.
"What?" Her curiosity was aroused.
"Get your purse and I'll show you." He smiled mysteriously.
"Congratulations," Mike offered as Cole hurried Lacey out the door.
As Cole was helping her into his car, Lacey repeated her question, "What are you going to show me?"
"You'll see," was all he would say.
"Give me a hint at least," she persisted.
But his only response was
an enigmatic smile as he pulled out of the parking lot into the street.
Within a short time, she realized they were driving toward Virginia Beach, crossing the Chesapeake Bay bridge-tunnel into Norfolk. When they turned onto a side road she recognized, she became thoroughly confused. It led to her cousin Margo's house.
"Why are we going to the beach house?" She frowned.
Cole reached for her hand and held it warmly in his. "Patience."
At the house, he parked the car in the driveway and turned to face her, smiling. "Would the future Mrs. Whitfield like to see her new home?"
"What?" She gave him an incredulous look and he chuckled softly.
"When Margo and Bob came back from their cruise, he told me that they were moving to Florida near his parents as soon as he could make all the arrangements here." He reached in his pocket and handed her a key. "I bought the house for us. After all the frustrating nights I'd spent here with you, I decided it was fitting that this should be our home where I can spend a million satisfying evenings with you."
"You've bought it?" Lacey stared at the key in the palm of her hand, not certain that she had really understood him.
"You did like the house, didn't you?" Cole tipped his head to the side, studying her closely, a ring of uncertainty in his voice.
"I love the house!" she declared vigorously. "I just can't believe it's really mine — ours," she corrected herself quickly.
"Believe it, honey."
A sound, somewhere between a laugh and a cry, came from her throat as she threw her arms around his neck, happiness and love bubbling from her like an eternal fountain. Cole removed the need to express herself with words. Deeds were much more enjoyable.
Her arms were locked around Cole's neck when he finally lifted his mouth from her lips. "Would it be improper to prematurely carry my bride over the threshold?"
"Why worry about whether it's proper or not?" Lacey questioned in an amused voice. "You've already carried me into your bedroom."
"So I have." He grinned and swept her up into the cradle of his arms.
The key to the front door was still clutched in her fingers. Lacey was certain Cole was going to drop her before she was able to insert it in the lock and open the door. Laughing, he carried her into the house and up the stairs, kissing her soundly as he set her on her feet. Lacey glanced around, catching back the sob in her throat.
"What's the matter?" Cole frowned Curiously.
"I'm afraid this is all a dream and I'm going to wake up," she murmured. He pinched her arm. "Ouch!"
"It isn't a dream, I'm still here and you still have the key to our house in your hand," he told her, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I can't believe it," Lacey insisted with a shake of her head, adding a quick, "but don't pinch me again. That hurt."
"I promise not to damage the merchandise until I'm sure it's totally mine. Which reminds me, when we leave here, we'll drive to Richmond. Your parents might like to meet me before I marry their daughter."
"Good heavens!" she declared as she realized the truth of his words. "My parents have never even heard of you. I haven't written them or talked to them on the phone since I met you. What will they think?"
"They'll think that I swept you off your feet, the way every romantic lover should," he mocked.
She laughed. "Just wait until I tell Maryann."
"Who is Maryann?"
"My friend. My very best friend." Lacey made the definition a little more emphatic.
"The same one you stayed with this weekend?" Cole asked.
"Yes, the very same."
"I suppose she's the one you'll run to whenever we have an argument."
"More than likely," Lacey retorted.
"I want her name, address and telephone number so I'll know where to find you the next time you storm out of the house."
"Do you think there will be a next time?" She tipped her head to the side, finding it difficult to imagine that she could ever get that angry with him again.
"Probably," Cole sighed. "We're both pretty stubborn."
"You are more stubborn than I am," Lacey reminded him.
"You see?" He tweaked the tip of her nose. "You're already trying to start an argument."
"It seems to me a smart fellow like you might be able to figure out how to shut me up." Her brown eyes were bright with silent invitation.
"It will be very enjoyable trying," he declared before seeking her lips.
Cole waded from the water, a bronze-skinned sea god emerging from the ocean, and love tingled over Lacey's flesh at the sight of him walking toward her, the flashing white of his smile lighting her life.
An interlocking diamond solitaire ring and gold wedding band was on the third finger of her left hand, proof that she really was his wife. Yet often in the past few days, Lacey had been overcome with the urge to pinch herself to be reassured it wasn't just a beautiful dream. Every time she looked at Cole, touched him, she fell in love with him all over again.
Reaching her side, he dropped to his knees on the sand, droplets of salt water clinging to him. For a minute he simply studied her, stretched on the sand in her metallic blue gray swimsuit.
Instantly every nerve was alert, her senses quivering at the disturbing ardor in his look. He reached for her hand, pulling her into a sitting position, then kissing her with familiar ease.
"Happy?" he murmured, raking his fingers through her short brown hair and cupping the back of her head in his hand.
"Heavenly so, if there is such a thing," Lacey answered softly, a delicious warmth spreading through her limbs.
"Even though we have to set the alarm to get up in the morning?" Cole reminded her wryly.
"Are you dreading breaking in your new secretary?" she teased.
"I don't know." The creases along the corners of his mouth deepened attractively. "I've certainly enjoyed breaking in my new wife these past few days."
"Have you?" Her lips parted, inviting his kiss.
His dark blue gaze flicked to them for a tantalizing second, a fire smoldering to life in his eyes. Then he was straightening, pulling her to her feet along with him. The kiss he gave her held a promise of more to come in a more private place than the beach.
When he turned toward the house, an arm was curved around Lacey's waist to tuck her close to his side. A woman was walking to their right, intent upon the sand at her feet. The old-fashioned sunbonnet on her head instantly identified the woman to Cole and Lacey. He stopped.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Carlyle," he greeted her.
The woman glanced up, momentarily surprised. "Good afternoon." Her gaze took in the affectionate attitude of the pair. "I see the two of you here made up after your little spat." Despite the friendliness in her remark, there was evidence of disapproval in the tightness of her smile.
"We did," Cole admitted, adding with a dancing light in his eye, "And I took your advice, too." He held up Lacey's left hand, showing off the gold band encircling her ring finger. "I made an honest woman of her."
Immediately the woman's smile turned into a radiant beam. "I'm delighted for both of you, really I am. As much in love as the two of you are, you won't be sorry," she insisted.
"No, we won't be a bit sorry," Cole agreed, and smiled down at Lacey's upturned face.
Biography
* * *
Janet Dailey
Janet Dailey was born Janet Haradon in 1944 in Storm Lake, Iowa. She attended secretarial school in Omaha, Nebraska before meeting her husband, Bill. Bill and Janet worked together in construction and land development until they "retired" to travel throughout the United States, inspiring Janet to write the Americana series of romances.
In 1974, Janet Dailey was the first American author to write for Harlequin, her first novel was NO QUARTER ASKED. She has since gone on to write approximately 90 novels, 21 of which have appeared on The New York Times bestseller list. She has won many awards and accolades for her work, appearing widely on Radio and Television. Toda
y, there are over three-hundred million Janet Dailey books in print in 19 different languages, making her one of the most popular novelists in the world.
