Sweet Pretender Read online

  "Are there?" she asked, not recognizing her own voice.

  "Aren't there?"

  This is it. The point of no return. His face flamed against hers and, spellbound, she waited for what seemed an eternity as his mouth—his wonderful mouth—opened slowly and enclosed hers in a paralyzing kiss that fulfilled all its promises and offered more. Was it only one kiss?

  He didn't raise his lips from hers, even when hers quivered and moved in response. Even when her tongue darted against his to meet its caress. But it felt as if it were two, three, four kisses—more—all swept into one ever-deepening one that raised havoc inside her. Had there been an explosion, she wouldn't have noticed it. She would have only supposed it had taken place in her own heart.

  When, with reluctance, he allowed his lips to leave hers, they stayed no more than an inch away, tantalizing her. "I'll get you home," he said. "You should get out of that dress."

  "Yes, I should," she agreed brokenly.

  He eased himself away, smoothing her arm, touching her hand and, at last, her fingertips until he stood. "I want to know everything about you, little one," he said. "Everything that makes you the person you are."

  "I don't think you'll find anything very extraordinary."

  "I already have. Come on." He reached for her. "Up you go."

  "You needn't carry me now. I can walk."

  He curled his hand into a fist and shook it at her. "Try it, and see what happens."

  "But—"

  Scooping her easily into his arms, he silenced her protest with a greedy kiss that set the core of her womanhood ablaze.

  "Your party…"

  "I won't be missed. Besides, there are more important considerations."

  "Such as?" She wound her arms around his neck and smiled dreamily, his strength making her feel weightless.

  "Such as…"

  "She's in here," Natalie screeched, sweeping through the door, with Brian close behind her.

  Brian filled the doorway, and judging by the jut of his jaw and the florid color in his face, his mood hadn't improved. It had been reinforced by a few tips of the bottle. He might have been a wrongfully used husband for the fury that lit his eyes. "What the hell is this?"

  "I'm going to drive Melissa home," Jeremy explained. "She shouldn't be walking on this ankle until we have it looked at by someone who knows what he's doing."

  "Isn't that stretching the responsibility of a host too far, York?" Brian's voice was a sneer.

  "Really, Jeremy!" Natalie added her protest.

  "They're right," Melissa said, coming to herself again. She wriggled against Jeremy's hold on her. How could she even have considered allowing him to desert his guests on her account? Besides, after everything that had passed between them she needed time alone to think. "I'll be fine. Put me down. Please."

  "I'll take her," Brian growled, stepping in. "After all, I brought her here. I think I'm capable of taking her home."

  Jeremy's eyes struck Melissa's with a look that somehow implied betrayal. "Of course," he said stiffly.

  Before she could say anything more, she was deposited in Brian's arms as if she were a package being returned to sender.

  Brian jerked his head toward the outside doors. "Can we leave this way?"

  "Follow the path to your left. It's dark, so watch your step. I'll have someone bring your car around."

  "Brian, dear," Natalie cooed. "I would use a bit of restraint and not, ah, bother Melissa tonight. She needs her rest. Be sure and tuck her in nice and snug, though. The poor little thing is always tripping over her own feet."

  "Aren't you coming?" he wanted to know.

  "Gracious, no. Don't worry about Jean and me. We'll get a ride home." She flashed Jeremy one of her most brilliant smiles and slipped an arm through his. "From someone."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Before Melissa could stop bristling inside over what had happened, they were home, and Brian had set a kettle on to boil. "Why did Natalie try so hard to make Jeremy believe there's something between you and me?" she demanded. "And why did you let her do it?"

  "I didn't expect you to fall for York's phony brand of charm."

  "What makes you think I've fallen for anything?"

  "Haven't you?"

  "I don't know."

  He slammed a hand against the wall. "That's what I mean."

  "I'm only trying to be honest." She settled on the couch, stretching her sore leg out to rest it, and closed her eyes. While she was being honest with Brian, she might as well be honest with herself.

  After tonight she wouldn't even try to shrug off the overpowering physical attraction she felt for Jeremy. It was numbing and complete and would probably only grow stronger, given the chance. But no matter what Brian told her to the contrary, she was confident, for a time at least, that Jeremy had been sincere. There had been a few shining moments when their souls had touched. Those moments had been independent of what might have been termed as "chemistry."

  "Would you like me to pour you a bath?" Brian asked, somewhat subdued.

  The cuckoo clock sounded, and she waited until the little wooden bird was silent before answering. Brian hadn't meant to hurt her. What good would there be in punishing him now?

  "That would be nice," she managed, trying to erase from her mind's eye the picture of Jeremy's face when Natalie had told Brian to "tuck her in nice and snug."

  "I like the water scalding."

  Obviously relieved, Brian knelt beside the couch. "Listen, York will hurt you if you let him. Do you think he would have behaved differently if his wife were alive?"

  "What are you suggesting?"

  "I told you he and Natalie were once in love. That he left her to marry Kathryn Havelock."

  "That was years ago."

  "But I didn't tell you that his marriage didn't end his affair with Natalie. When she came here for a visit, it was on again. They met, discreetly of course, whenever the opportunity presented itself."

  "I don't believe you. You obviously detest Jeremy, and I get the feeling you'd say anything to turn me against him."

  "To the Yorks, people like you, me and Nat are to be tolerated, used and thrown away," he went on, too wound up by the events of the evening to listen to Melissa's objections. "We're commoners. Our feelings don't count."

  "There's a big hole in your theory," she interrupted. "Natalie shouldn't be included on your list. Her marriage made her a wealthy woman, didn't it?"

  He snorted. "You don't understand these people at all, do you, kitten? With the Yorks and their kind, money is important, but it takes second place. They have disdain for the newly rich. The 'parvenu,' as they call them. A woman like Nat who marries wealth, or Mr. X who manages to accumulate it with sweat, tears and a lot of luck is an upstart. A pretender. A person has to be at least third generation to have social standing and be accepted in the circle of blue bloods."

  Melissa was suddenly too tired to argue with him. "Could you pour that bath now?" she asked with a weary sigh.

  "I'm sorry if it hurts you to hear this," Brian said, somewhat calmer now. "But do you seriously believe Natalie was the only one York played around with all those years? Or for that matter, that you were the only woman he held in his arms tonight?"

  She wouldn't listen to him anymore. It hurt too much. She'd close out his voice as she had done when she was a child and an adult scolded too much. Shutting her eyes, she tried to imagine herself sinking deeper and deeper into the cushions.

  Undoubtedly Brian realized he had gone too far. He stopped talking at once. Then she heard him start up the stairs to fix her tub.

  After her bath, sleep didn't come at once, but when it did, mercifully, it lasted through the night. In the morning she woke with a start when she heard someone tiptoeing beside her bed.

  "Oh Missy, did I wake you?" Her sister clasped her hands together and brought them to her mouth. "They told me what happened. How's your poor foot?"

  "It's still there."

  The girl floppe
d on the bed, just missing Melissa's sore ankle, tucked her legs under her and began humming tunelessly. "There's trouble brewing. Natalie thinks you did what you did on purpose."

  "That isn't headline news."

  "She's mad at me, too."

  "Why? Did you take a minute and a quarter to play the 'Minute Waltz'?"

  "Nothing so catastrophic. No. It's Todd. She wants me to stay away from him. She thinks I'll slip up and spill her game plan."

  Melissa threw back the covers and eased herself up gingerly. She could walk, though it might be wise to get some bandages and bind her foot for support. Then, Natalie or no, it was down to the kitchen for something to eat. She was starving. With all the lovely food at the party, she hadn't had a bite.

  "Don't you think Natalie has a valid point?" she asked her sister. "What if you really got to like Todd? With you posing as Jean, where would you be?"

  "Exactly where I am now." Arlene heaved a sigh that came from the soles of her feet. "I already like him more than I've ever liked anybody. He's, well, I can't explain how he makes me feel."

  There was a sharp knock at the door. "Jean, are you in there?" It was Natalie.

  "Yes, I am." Arlene crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

  "Don't dawdle if you want to go to practice. I've umpteen things to do."

  "Practice?" Melissa asked after Natalie had moved away from the door.

  "The custodian at the auditorium is going to unlock the doors for me so I can practice on that piano for my performance at the big doings Friday night."

  "That's nice of him."

  "Very nice. Except that I'm not going to practice. That's why I came in here to see you."

  "Why do I have the feeling that I should sit down again before I hear this?"

  "I want a simple favor."

  Todd, she explained, was coming at eleven. As far as Natalie was concerned, he would be taking Melissa for a drive. Arlene would allow Natalie to drive her to the auditorium. She'd pretend to go in. But when Natalie's car was out of sight, quick as a rabbit, she'd go to where Todd and Melissa would be waiting—after she explained to the custodian that there'd been a change in plans.

  "Think again, baby."

  "You can't mean you won't do it for me."

  "I can, and I do."

  "You're afraid of Natalie." The girl's voice was sullen.

  "You know better than that. She couldn't despise me more than she does already."

  "Then do it for me."

  "I can't."

  Arlene sprang off the bed and faced her, and Melissa felt a stab of regret. Even in her pink, shorty nightgown, her sister suddenly looked like a woman. Were people right when they accused her of hating to see her grow up?

  "I've always told you everything," Arlene said, "and I'm telling you that Todd means a lot to me. I'm also telling you that I have plans. I wouldn't throw away my talent—yes, I know I have talent—by marrying foolishly. For that matter, Todd has something besides sawdust in his head. We only want to be together. I'd hate myself forever if I turned my back on him."

  And you'd hate me, too, Melissa added silently. "Where do you plan to go?" she asked.

  "To Mystic. It's a little seafaring village not far from here. Todd says it's straight out of the history books. There's a mariner's museum there and scads of old ships."

  "And suddenly you're crazy about ships? What am I supposed to do with myself all day?"

  "Take a sketch pad. You could draw some fantastic sea gull pictures."

  "Sea gulls. For how many hours?"

  "I'd do it for you. Oh, don't you see? Everyone's against Todd and me."

  "By everybody, you mean Natalie."

  "And her pompous pal, Jeremy. Last night she sent me back here with some friends of hers that were coming this way. I forget what inane excuse she gave for staying at the party. She'd be right home, she said. Hah! I heard Jeremy and her drive up at about four-thirty this morning. They sat in his car for another hour after that. I can't understand how she dragged herself out of bed this early."

  Melissa shook the glass paperweight and tried to sound offhand as she watched the snow swirl down on the tiny cottage below. "What makes you think Todd's brother is against you?"

  "By the way he looks at me. The way he interrogates me. Honestly, he makes me feel as if I'm applying for membership in some exclusive country club or some-thing. And I heard him make Natalie promise to keep Todd and me apart."

  "Are you sure?"

  "He said he didn't want us spending any more time together. Todd might lose his head over me, he told her. Then he'd have to step in."

  Purposefully, Melissa set the paperweight down before she was tempted to throw it. Had Brian spoken the truth about Jeremy's irrational prejudices? Did Jeremy actually believe that her sister's pedigree—or Natalie's daughter's for that matter—wasn't good enough to allow her to associate with a York? "We'd better not waste any more time, if we're going to pull this off," she said. "What will I wear?"

  "I already took your white pants out and pressed your blue-and-white-striped shirt. Just the right outfit for your strolling-young-artist look. Oh, your foot's all right, isn't it? You can stroll."

  Melissa had to laugh. "Yes. My foot's much better. You were pretty certain I'd agree, weren't you?"

  With her sister's help, she'd just managed to get dressed when Todd drove up.

  Natalie, who'd heard the car door slam, sprang to the window as the girls came downstairs. "What is he doing here? I told Jean in no uncertain terms—"

  "He's here for me," Melissa said.

  The woman's jaw sagged. "If you can't get one York, you'll try for another. Is that it?"

  Pretending not to hear, Melissa threw open the door just as Todd raised a hand to knock. "Ready to go, Melissa?"

  "All ready."

  "Don't worry, Mrs. Kerr," Todd said solicitously. "I'll take real good care of her."

  Her sister had obviously filled him in on Natalie's explosive temper. It was all he could do to contain his mirth as they turned, arm in arm, and started down the steps. "Did Jean tell you how grateful we are that you're doing this?" he asked when they were out of earshot.

  "She told me." Melissa found it too disconcerting to look at him squarely. There was entirely too much Jeremy in his face for her to feel comfortable. Except that he wasn't Jeremy. Todd was down-to-earth and sincere.

  Or maybe all the Yorks had inherited acting ability along with their fortunes.

  "We'll have breakfast if you want," he suggested, pulling up in front of the Sea View, the rendezvous point.

  "I want. Everything happened so fast, I didn't have a chance to eat."

  Over tea and toast, he spoke of Arlene—Jean—with affection and talked of his plans for earning a place in the family company. He didn't want anything handed to him on a silver platter.

  "I won't say it hasn't made things a heck of a lot easier being an heir. I probably wouldn't have gotten anybody to listen to me if I weren't a York. But when they listen, I plan to have something worthwhile to say."

  He was in the middle of a story about a boyish prank he'd once played on his older brother, when suddenly he tapped Melissa's hand and looked past her, glassy-eyed. "Oh, oh. Speak of the devil."

  Melissa turned her head to see Jeremy approaching. He didn't look at all surprised to see her, and why should he? Natalie would have snatched up the phone and given him the latest news flash before their car had polled away from the curb. He had charged over in his trusty Mercedes to rescue his baby brother from the clutches of Mata Hari.

  "I noticed your car in front," he said to Todd, though his eyes speared Melissa. If he was attempting to sound light-hearted he missed the mark by more than a tad. "I thought you were supposed to be at a business meeting about the Emmet property."

  "Not until next week." Todd twisted his mouth to one side. "You know that. You set the meeting up."

  Jeremy snapped his fingers. "I forgot."

  "You forgot? That's hard t
o believe." He shook his head as if to gather his wits. "Melissa and I are planning to run over to Mystic. I thought I'd show her the museum."

  "I didn't expect to see you up and about this morning, Melissa. Your ankle," Jeremy said pointedly, as though she needed a reminder.

  "I told you it was nothing."

  "So you did."

  "Excuse me, you two." Todd touched a foot against one of Melissa's under the table. He would probably try to head her sister off and keep her hidden until Jeremy had gone. "I'll be right back."

  Jeremy nodded and squeezed into his brother's place in the booth. He summoned the waitress, ordered a cup of coffee and sat looking out the window toward the sea as he drank it. If theirs was a waiting game, he was prepared to play it. "Your friend does have a time keeping track of you, doesn't he?" he said, after the silence had been long enough for both of them to feel it.

  So now his anger would be turned on her, Melissa thought. Well, she wouldn't allow it to trouble her. When she'd started at the insurance company, she'd been a relief switchboard operator and had been railed at regularly by irate customers for everything from their being denied claims to the cost of their coverage. She could handle anything Jeremy dished out, as long as it helped to take the pressure off her sister.

  "I do what I like," she said. "I don't have to account to anyone."

  "So I notice." His smile bordered on a grimace. "Doesn't it get somewhat difficult at times, keeping your admirers apart?"

  She smiled, too. It was good to see the oh, so-cool Mr. York hot under the collar. "I have a good filing system."

  "Do you know what you're doing?" He spoke through tight lips. His expression didn't change, but the small vein at his temple pulsated.

  "Of course, I'm planning to enjoy what's left of my holiday."

  "At any cost. And how does Todd figure into those plans?"

  "Are you asking my intentions?" A teasing laugh hid the tremor in her voice. It wasn't as easy to continue the verbal sparring as she'd supposed it would be. Why didn't he just go away and leave her alone?