Sweet Pretender Read online

  "You're wrong." He cut her off almost angrily.

  "I know that now. But I was never one to turn down a dare."

  "I wasn't referring to your tree climbing."

  "No?" A layer of cool air tickled her arms.

  "No." Cupping a hand beneath her chin, he lifted it, tracing his thumb across her lower lip.

  "What did you mean then?" She swallowed hard. "I was wrong?"

  "I meant that common sense hasn't got a bloody thing to do with love."

  Without conscious thought, she caught his hand and pressed it to her lips. His jaw slackened in surprise— though his surprise couldn't have been any stronger than her own. His eyes found hers and softened beautifully—magnificently—and she was treated to a glimpse of the Jeremy within. Their thoughts met, joined and grew stronger. He was remembering the taste of her, as she was remembering the taste of him. They were also sharing the same craving to enjoy the taste again.

  This was the moment, she thought, and the wrestling began inside of her. No. Not here. Not now. Not with him.

  "Oh hell," he groaned. "Do you know what you're doing?"

  Yes, she answered without speaking. Oh, yes.

  "This is madness," he said.

  Yes. Sweet, sweet madness.

  He rose, drawing her up with him, catching the blanket at the same time and, between feathery kisses, led her closer to the water.

  "This is madness," he repeated, giving her another chance to protest, yet obviously aching for fear she might.

  I know, she said again.

  A mazelike path through thick-growing shrubbery brought them to a still-wilder spot, such as Rousseau might have created. Or did it only seem so because she was with Jeremy? They lay down again in the long shaggy grasses, and he moved over her.

  "What's the use?" he muttered, catching her ear-lobe lightly between his lips. She found her voice and emitted a cry of pleasure, giving in to her desire to twist her fingers through the crisp tangle of his hair. How she'd longed to do it, almost from the first moment she'd seen him in Eli's cabin. Even later when she'd told herself she despised him.

  A fusillade of kisses fell hotly on her forehead, her cheeks and down her neck. Luxuriating in an extended sigh, she allowed her head to fall back, wanting the feel of his mouth here—there—everywhere.

  His eyes were glorious mirrors, reflecting her beauty as he saw it, reflecting a discovery that came only at those rare times when two people knew without reservation that their innermost longings were shared completely and honestly. Deliberately, he disciplined his ardor, wanting her to experience all that a woman can experience, lingering over the kiss her rushing senses demanded. Slowly, much too slowly, he dragged his lips back and forth across hers, then tasted with the tip of his tongue, allowing the sensation to fill them completely before imprisoning them.

  They lay thigh to thigh, mouth to mouth, their hearts competing in hammering urgency, her body attempting to mold itself to his. And the marvelous certainty of his arousal filled her with joy.

  With magnified senses she became aware of everything around them. She would remember the encouraging whisper of the trees, the gurgling of their own personal brook and the flutter of bird wings. She would recall later exactly how it felt when he caught up handfuls of the ebony hair, which spread like a pillow around her head. And how he'd buried his face in the freshly shampooed fragrance of it.

  This delicious moment would be hers always, to cherish, to keep locked in her heart, to take out at times when she was alone and needed to know the wonder of him again.

  She hardly noticed that he had unfastened her shirt, so deftly had he managed it, until it fell open. A fleeting thought struck her that he could only have done it if he were much practised. She forced the thought away. The past didn't matter. It wouldn't be allowed to intrude on their future.

  One of his hands applied gentle pressure through the fabric of her bra and her breath caught in her throat. Someone could come along. She knew she should protest. Of course, she didn't. He might come to his senses and stop. Instead she voiced her quickening appetite with a moan of pleasure.

  Freshly aroused, he slid a finger under the lacy edge, along the desire-scorched flesh, to discover the tight, rosy nipple. Then his hungry mouth set to work.

  A shrill voice and then another invaded their special hidden place and allowed reality to rush in. Over the circle of greenery that hid them, children were calling to each other and laughing. "Hey! Neat-oh! Water. Let's take off our shoes."

  "Civilization," Jeremy murmured and drew a shuddering breath as he held Melissa close briefly before moving away. "What am I going to do about you?"

  Whatever you like, her heart sang as her fingers fumbled with her shirt buttons.

  Five minutes more. If only she had five minutes more to savor her newfound contentment. The orderly side of her would have delighted in clearing away the clutter to make room in her memory for this shining moment. Wanting it to be safe, where she could recall it again easily and clearly, at will.

  Her heart was full. But even as she accepted and cherished the precious gift of love she and Jeremy were able to give to each other now, one thing still bothered her. Where did Natalie fit into the picture?

  Out of jealousy, Brian must have lied about the present relationship between his sister and Jeremy, and the past didn't matter. But Melissa herself had seen the two huddled in the garden, carrying on a conversation that sounded rather intimate.

  And what about all the hours they'd spent together after the dance? Her sister had said they'd sat in the car until well after four o'clock in the morning. There had to be an explanation.

  Of course, Jeremy would tell her in his own time. Ideally she should wait until he did. But to make the afternoon a perfect one for her, she had to know now.

  It wouldn't be an easy subject to broach. She didn't want to sound like a possessive lover. It might even seem to Jeremy that she'd been spying on him.

  "They'll be waiting for us," he said, looking at his watch.

  Let them wait, was her first thought. They'd understand and applaud. This wasn't a moment to be easily discarded. "What about our lunch?" Melissa asked dreamily.

  "Nibble as we go, if you're hungry," he said.

  They arrived a little more than half an hour later than the time they'd agreed to meet, but there was no sign of the other couple. Jeremy behaved like a caged lion. He glared at his watch as if it were somehow responsible, checked it with the clock on the side of a building, stalked back and forth and glared at his watch again.

  "They probably lost track of the time," Melissa suggested, wanting to soothe his agitation. "It's easy to do when you're having a good time." Isn't it, Jeremy? she added silently.

  He shook his head and frowned. "It isn't like Todd. He's completely reliable."

  The emphasis on he and Todd meant he blamed her sister for the lapse in his brother's reliability. "They'll be here. Why don't we sit on the bench and have something to eat? Maybe they arrived on schedule, saw we weren't here and went away again."

  He turned on her. "What else do you see in your crystal ball?"

  She blinked. Was this the same man who'd held her in his arms and kissed her only a short while ago? He was doing it again. Changing from Jekyll to Hyde. And it hurt.

  "Mr. York? Are you Mr. York?" A pretzel vender was wheeling his cart toward them and calling out.

  Jeremy whirled to face the man. "Yes?"

  "Got a message for you, sir. Let me see." The man pushed back his cap and stared at the sky as though the message he had to deliver were written in the clouds.

  "What is it?" From the expression on Jeremy's face, Melissa wouldn't have been surprised if he had grabbed the vender by the collar and shaken the message out of him.

  "This young fella and his gal was here waiting for you. But a car full of their friends came along, they said, and they decided to ride on home with them. You shouldn't wait. I was supposed to tell you—you can take the car."
/>   "Are you certain?"

  The man cocked his head to one side and winked at Melissa playfully. "Would I lie to you? Do you want to buy a pretzel?"

  "No!" Jeremy snarled.

  "Nice and hot. Works up a healthy thirst for a cold beer."

  "No, thank you," Melissa said quickly, hoping Jeremy wouldn't make a scene.

  "Dammit!" He started toward the parking lot with Melissa hurrying as best she could to keep up with him.

  "There's no reason to worry," she said. "I told you before—"

  "You told me, did you?" he mocked. "You told me that your friend would have more sense. You've told me a great many things. Now tell me, when did you plan, all this?"

  "But I—"

  "Obviously it was all arranged. Don't try and tell me otherwise. Your ankle conveniently bothered you because I got in the way. I had to stay behind and look after you."

  "And I lured you off on that picnic."

  "In a way. Yes."

  "And I tried to take advantage of you." Tears stung her eyes, and she had to squeeze her hands against her sides to keep from slapping him.

  "Congratulations. It worked." He threw the car door open. "Get in."

  She took a step backward. "I don't intend to ride with you."

  "Get in."

  "I'll call someone to come for me."

  "And if Hendricks isn't there, you'll hitchhike back to Sandgate?"

  "I'd rather do that than suffer your insults."

  With a muttered curse, he clamped his fingers painfully around her wrist as he had done at the restaurant. "You'll suffer more than my insults if you don't get in the car. Do I have to pick you up and throw you in?"

  Trembling with fury, she teetered on the edge of indecision. Should she call his bluff? Surely he knew if he tried manhandling her in a public parking lot it might make the newspapers, as big as the York name was in these parts.

  "You wouldn't dare."

  "Is that your answer?"

  "If I do get in," she told him, "it's only because I don't want to make Brian drive all the way here to get me."

  "I don't give a damn for your reasons."

  Their silence was grim this time, with Jeremy hunched over the steering wheel like a determined racing-car driver. Melissa reached for the knob of the radio, but he caught her hand and threw it back into her lap.

  "I'm in no mood for music."

  "I am."

  "Then whistle."

  It couldn't be happening, she told herself. But it was. A door had opened unexpectedly and allowed her a glimpse of the wonder that might have been. Then it had closed. The only logical explanation was that Jeremy had been pretending. The closeness she had felt in his arms was like a dream. His kiss, his touch, his murmured words of endearment had seemed beautiful. Now everything was sordid and ugly.

  "My father left the decision making for the company with me," he said suddenly as if in answer to a question she'd asked. "I have a free rein."

  "Good for you. But what are you talking about?"

  "So if Jean believes that she'll be a wealthy woman if she marries Todd, she's mistaken. They can't marry. Perhaps you should tell her that."

  "You tell her. Let her loathe you as I do."

  As Jeremy screeched to a stop in front of the house, the curtains moved. The door flew open and Natalie, her hands pressed to her temples in what had become a characteristic pose, stood in the doorway watching. Melissa's sister stood behind her.

  "So they didn't elope after all," Melissa snapped, infuriated by Jeremy's obvious relief. She let herself out of the car and slammed the door. "Your tantrum was all for nothing."

  "Hold on a minute," he called, sprinting after her. "There's something that needs to be said."

  "True. But my careful upbringing prevents me from saying it."

  "Maybe you weren't part of a plan." He caught her arm and turned her toward him as she started up the stairs.

  "Maybe I wasn't."

  "If so, I apologize."

  "If so? Your apology sounds like a business contract with its tacked-on qualifier. I find it unacceptable. Let me go."

  "Melissa…"

  She tried to shake herself loose from his grasp. "Take your despicable hands off me or I'll scream so loud every illustrious head will pop out of every royal window in your precious village."

  "I wish with all my heart I hadn't allowed you to come with us. You don't even try to fit in," Natalie scolded as Melissa passed her. She touched a fluttery hand to Jeremy's shoulder, pantomiming her need for his strength in her hour of trial. "I'm sorry about all of this, dear. The girl constantly wheedles my daughter into doing things she would never do otherwise. She keeps everyone in an uproar, just to satisfy some twisted need she has for excitement."

  Melissa might have screamed if she hadn't felt so drained. Her hurt foot throbbed, and every inch of her ached. In her room, she sat on the bed, eased off her shoes and lay back with her eyes closed. She couldn't hear Natalie anymore, but she was sure the woman would rave on and on, banking on Melissa's reluctance to betray her sister's part in the charade.

  The worst of it was that Jeremy would listen.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Melissa's thoughts were so chaotic she didn't expect to drop off to sleep, but she must have. She was dragged back into consciousness by a tattoo of knocks she ignored.

  "It's Brian. I'm coming in." He was a cutout of black construction paper in the half-light, The bed creaked as he sat down beside her. "How do you feel?"

  "Fantastic," she muttered. "I never felt better."

  He groped for her hand and pressed his lips to each of her fingertips in turn. But as he bent to kiss her she turned her face away.

  Whistling through clenched teeth, he stood up. "I knew that bastard would hurt you. I'm going over and wipe up the floor with him."

  "Forget it. It wouldn't help." Brian was built like a football player, but Jeremy wasn't exactly a ninety-pound weakling. It was anybody's guess who would wipe up the floor with whom. Either way, the trouble would be laid at her doorstep.

  "It would help me," he insisted. "I feel partially responsible for your being here."

  "Remind me to take a poke at you when I get my strength back."

  He grinned and then looked very serious. "I think you should go back to Albany in the morning."

  "No."

  "Why not? I'll keep an eye on your sister for you. Then when this nightmare is over, we'll get together again, pretend none of this ever happened and start fresh. How about it? Can I help you pack?"

  Albany. Home. Rush-hour traffic. Shopping. Even Mr. Lowell and his speeches. It sounded too good to be true. It was. "I can't leave before the recital on Friday. Arlene would never forgive me."

  He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "When are you going to stop thinking about your sister and start thinking about—"

  "Brian, please!" She'd heard the argument too many times before.

  "Okay." He held up one hand, recognizing defeat. "I have another idea."

  She grimaced. "No more ideas."

  "We'll take that tour of the countryside in the morning. Stay out all day. We won't come back until Nat has already gone to whatever bash is on the agenda. You won't have to see hide nor hair of her."

  "If I steal you away from the day's activities, it'll only give her another thing to rage at me about."

  "We don't have to leave together. If you'd rather, we can meet somewhere." He dropped to his knees beside the bed. "How does it sound?"

  "I don't know." With tomorrow filled to the brim, she'd have only the fashion show the next day and the recital at night and she'd be free to go home. But then, there was Brian to be considered. He'd already gotten the wrong idea about how she felt about him.

  "If we keep it to just two good friends having a carefree day?" he asked, picking up on her train of thought.

  Grateful to him, she nodded. "The idea of staying clear of your sister for a whole day is irresistible."

  "Good. Let'
s say we meet on the beach below the Sea View restaurant at eight in the morning."

  "Make that ten, and you're on."

  "You look tense. I could give you a rubdown before I go." His eyes skimmed her slim length, and there was enough of a glint in them to remind Melissa that his feelings weren't brotherly.

  "I think I need sleep more than I need a massage. But thanks anyway."

  "I'm told I have the magic touch."

  "No, thanks."

  He slapped a hand against his thigh. "Guess I can't win 'em all."

  "Good night, Brian," she said softly, reaching up to cover the yawn she couldn't stifle.

  "I take it that's my exit cue?"

  "No offense meant."

  "None taken," he assured her, backing toward the door. "See you soon."

  She slept badly, opening her eyes every hour or so to find that it was still dark, until at last, mercifully, the first lemony rays of morning sun told her she could get up. She'd look in on Eli and Murphy before she met with Brian, she decided. If everything went as planned, she probably wouldn't have another chance.

  Hurriedly she washed, dressed and brushed her hair. It was stubborn and every which way, reflecting her erratic mood, but she managed to tame it enough to sleek it back with enameled clips. The cuckoo clock sounded, startling her as she crept down the stairs, but she didn't cry out. The floor didn't creak, and the door didn't slam. So far, so good.

  When she reached the shack, Eli threw open the door and ushered her in, as if he had been expecting her and she'd arrived unconscionably late. There was no time for niceties and little for explanations. Someone had just brought him a torn and bleeding yellow warbler taken from a cat, and the newcomer required his full attention. Melissa would have to see to the needs of the other patients as best she could.

  With rolled-up sleeves and the canvas coverall apron Eli provided, she set to work gratefully. It was good to feel useful and even better to be too busy to indulge in self-pity and wishful thinking.

  By the time Eli had sponged the wounds, applied salve and settled Tracy the warbler into a nest of leaves in a cardboard carton, Melissa had finished with the cages and refilled all the seed and water containers. The two were able to sit down with feelings of satisfaction and accomplishment to scalding cups of herbal tea and squares of shortbread.