Chapter 7 #2
“Thought that would do it,” he murmured to himself.
“You’re a sadist,” she told him scathingly as she marched towards the brand new porch, ignoring the calls of birds and the scent of flowers blooming.
“And don’t think you’re going to get me out of this cabin for the week we’re here. I’m staying inside.”
“Yes ma’am.” Giving her a cheeky smile, he retrieved the key from beneath the flower pot and opened the door.
“A key under a flower pot.” She snorted.
“You really are a trusting soul.”
“And you’re too much of an urbanite. Welcome to my retreat.”
Dumping the cases at the foot of the stairs, he led the way into the kitchen.
“Millicent packed enough food to feed an army. I just have to get the basket from the trunk. Hungry?”
He knew she had barely picked at the food while they were at the ceremony.
“Yes. I’ll put the kettle on for some tea.”
“Good,” he said briskly and headed out again.
Plopping her hands on her hips, she turned in a circle and considered the room charming and cozy. There was a brand new electric stove tucked into one corner of the room.
A large bay window looked out over the river, and a dining table, simple and made of sturdy oak, was placed beneath the window.
Finding the kettle, she filled it with water and turned the knob before hunting through the cupboard for a box of tea.
All the while, she was trying to tell herself that being here with him like this did not smack of coziness and intimacy. They had to be somewhere for their “honeymoon” in order to fool his grandfather and that very nosy and suspicious lawyer.
But she did not like the fact that it all felt so real.
“Here we are. It’s starting to rain.”
He hefted the basket on the counter top.
“That looks heavy.”
“Millicent wanted to make sure we didn’t starve.” He searched her face as he opened the flap and started to take the stuff out.
“Wanna talk?”
“No.” She shook her head. Turning away, she found cups.
“I don’t know if you wanted tea.”
“I could use a cup.” He had to fight to tamp down the frustration and told himself that he had to be patient.
“There’re huge slices of cake in here.” He took out a container.
“And things to make sandwiches. Containers of soup, an entire thing of lasagna, and I have to tell you that the chef makes the best. Fruits, two kinds of pies and-”
“What type of pies?”
“Apple and pecan. Want a slice?”
“Apple. I should have made us coffee.”
She considered with a frown.
“Tea will do for now.” He started to put away the things when she turned off the stove.
“Honey in the tea?”
“Hmm.” He opened the fridge and dumped stuff in.
“I want to apologize for my grandfather,” he began. He had told himself he would leave it alone but changed his mind.
“There’s no need.”
“There’s every need. Dammit, Regina, I wish you would talk to me.”
“And say what exactly?” She put the steaming cup in front of him before sitting down.
“You already have the gist of it. He left us and never stayed in touch. Only with Dylan. Your grandfather has a right to delve into my life. You’re his flesh and blood.”
She blew on the liquid before taking a sip.
“He hurt you.”
She shrugged. “I’m over it.”
“Are you?”
“Yes! Would you please drop it? It’s not like we’re in a real marriage. We don’t have to bare our souls to each other or anything like that.”
Slamming the fridge door shut, he turned a furious gaze on her that had her jolting.
“That might be the case, but there’s no reason we cannot be friends. We’re stuck with each other, whether you like it or not. Wouldn’t it be better if we had some kind of relationship?”
Putting the cup down, she met his gaze. “As long as it doesn’t complicate things.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” he muttered.
“Suit yourself. I was just trying to make things easier.”
They both lapsed into an uneasy silence; the only sound was the rain pattering against the window pane.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said.
“You’re right. We have to make an effort to be civilized at least.”
She shook her head.
“But I don’t want to talk about my, er, my past. I can’t, at least, not right now. I hope you understand.”
“I’m trying to.” His expression softened.
“How about that pie?”
A smile touched her lips and had his heart warming. “I could use some pie.”
*****
He took her on a tour of the place. With the rain drumming on the roof and with fires blazing in the various fireplaces, he wove his way through the downstairs.
She realized to her surprise that the place was quite large. There was a study/library with floor-to-ceiling books, a small fireplace, desk and chair, and comfortable sofas, tucked beneath a large window overlooking the wooded area.
There was a small parlor with faded antique furnishings, a powder room, and a mud room that led out to the dock where a dinghy and a speedboat bobbed on the surface of the water.
Upstairs there were three bedrooms, charmingly decorated with bold colors. He gave her the largest room.
An old-fashioned, queen-sized bed with an iron headboard dominated the space.
“It has its own bathroom. I’m across the hall.”
“This used to be your parents’ room,” she observed, moving to the mantel where a framed photo of a man and a woman posed, laughing into the camera. The man had sandy brown hair and did not look at all like his son.
The woman had a quiet beauty about her that showed in the smile. The man had his arms wrapped around her from behind.
The woman’s strawberry blonde hair tumbled around a classically beautiful face.
“They looked happy.”
“They were.” He came over to stand next to her and picked up the photo.
“This was taken at their last visit here.” His thumb moved over the image slowly, the grief on his face, making her want to hold him.
“They were happiest here. The manor was a little oppressive. Here they could be themselves and didn’t have my grandfather to deal with.”
“Why didn’t they stay?”
He looked over at her and smiled sadly.
“I remember asking my dad that when he took me fishing one day. He said he had responsibilities. He was vice president of the company, and my mother was in charge of various charities. I had the feeling that they wished they could stay.”
Putting back the frame, he turned to face her.
“I-” Regina stepped back cautiously, cursing herself for her reaction to his nearness.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked her softly.
“Of course not! Why would I be?”
“That’s a damn good question.” His jade green eyes further unnerved her as he used them to study her face.
With her nerves stretched tight, she was about to make some excuse and walk into the bathroom when he moved. “I’ll get the fire going.”
He turned away from her and had to take several deep silent breaths to keep his rioting desire under control. Her scent filled his nostrils.
Right here in the room where his parents had always stayed, the air was filled with her, just her. She was enough to crowd out the memories of the people he loved the most.
Regina stepped back and, after watching him for a few minutes, walked hurriedly into the bathroom with its charming old-fashioned tub, wide lips, and a three-legged stool just at the side of it. She closed the door and had the insane urge to slide the lock in place.
Leaning against the door, she rapped her hand on her chest where her heart was beating madly. She could still smell his cologne, something elusive and earthy.
She could still feel his body heat.
She shouldn’t have come here. What the hell was she doing out in this isolated place with him?
Pressing a hand to her quivering stomach, she went to the sink and waited like a coward until she no longer heard movement in the room.
She couldn’t sleep. The bed was soft and the sheets scented.
He had told her that he rehired the couple who had always taken care of the place to do the cleaning. The white cotton sheets smelled of baby powder and lilac.
An odd combination, but she couldn’t shut down. He was right across the hall.
Was he tossing and turning as well?
When he had turned to face her, she had wondered if he was going to kiss her. And she had wanted him to.
Closing her eyes, she tried to settle. When it didn’t happen, she turned towards the window and just gazed at the full moon.
Across the hall, Craig was having the same problem. His body was heated, his blood racing.
Her scent was still in his nostrils. Propping up on the pillows, he eyed the shadowy room balefully.
What was she doing? he wondered. He knew she had avoided him by staying inside the bathroom.
Some demon inside him had made him almost stay to see what she would have done. But he didn’t want to push his luck.
Time enough for that. Starting tomorrow, he wasn’t going to tolerate the separation.
Oh hell no!