Beauty and the Wolf / Their Miracle Twins (6 page)

Frankie forgot that a roomful of people danced and laughed only feet away from where she stood, locked in Eli’s arms, concealed behind the column. The world faded away, narrowing to hold only Eli.

When at last he lifted his head, she was breathless. If she hadn’t been supported against his solid strength, she knew she would have wobbled, her knees weak.

Eli’s hooded gaze searched hers, his breath coming too fast. His fingertips moved reflexively against the bare skin of her back above the low-cut gown as if unable to keep from stroking, and a muscle ticked along the line of his jaw. Whatever he saw in her eyes had his lips curving upward in a slow, sensual half smile that made Frankie yearn for the feel of his mouth on hers again. Then he wrapped her closer and swept her out from behind the column, back into the crowd, the music a slow swirl of sound around them. Frankie let him guide her, her feet automatically moving to the rhythm as she struggled to clear her head.

She was every bit as shaken now as she’d been by that first kiss all those months ago at her birthday party. No
question about it, she thought with faint dismay, when she’d felt the earth move during that first kiss, it hadn’t been the result of drinking too much champagne on an empty stomach.

Because it had just happened again.

Harry and Cornelia, with half the dance floor now separating them from Eli and Frankie, were each trying to digest and interpret what they’d just seen.

“I haven’t purposely spied on any of my daughters since they were teenagers,” Cornelia told Harry. “I feel guilty.”

“We didn’t spy on them on purpose,” Harry protested. “We just happened to be dancing near them when he pulled her behind that column. It’s not as if we were using binoculars.”

Cornelia leaned back against his arm and looked up at him. “Even you can’t believe that excuse, Harry,” she admonished him, shaking her head. “You know very well you asked me to dance solely to keep an eye on Frankie and Eli.”

“All right,” he admitted. “It’s true. But in my defense, I’m having a hard time believing she’s suddenly interested in Eli. They’ve known each other for years, and I’ve never seen a hint of anything romantic between them.”

“Maybe that’s precisely why,” Cornelia pointed out. “Sometimes two people can be too close and not realize they’re perfect for each other.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Harry scoffed, dismissing the concept. “If a man and a woman are thrown
together often enough, sooner or later they’ll realize they’re attracted. Probably happen sooner rather than later,” he added.

“Perhaps,” Cornelia conceded. “But some people are
so
obtuse, they wouldn’t see the perfect partner if they tripped over them.”

Her voice held an underlying snap, but Harry didn’t notice.

“Well, I still think Nicholas would make the perfect man for Frankie.”

Cornelia’s eyes widened, then narrowed over Harry’s face. “Please tell me you’re not matchmaking again, Harry.”

Her voice held an ominous tone. Harry winced. “Now, Cornelia,” he said persuasively, “what makes you think I’d do that?”

Cornelia wasn’t entirely convinced but let the subject drop as the orchestra left the bandstand for a break and they returned to their table.

Three hours later, after dinner followed by more champagne and dancing, Eli handed Frankie into the back of the limousine once more.

The car moved smoothly away from the hotel portico. Outside the tinted windows, the glow of downtown Seattle’s neon signs, bright car headlights and red taillights blurred into rivers of moving color in the rain.

Frankie sighed and relaxed, turning her head against the buttery soft leather seat to look at Eli. “I think we were a success tonight. Harry was clearly surprised to
see you with me, although I’m not sure he’s convinced yet that we’re a couple. What do you think?”

“I suspect it’s going to take more than one appearance to make Harry believe we’re involved. He needs to be convinced you’re crazy about me and unlikely to be interested in someone else if he’s going to stop trying to hook you up with Nicholas.” Eli’s half smile was wry. “Harry’s like a dog with a bone. Once he gets an idea in his head, it takes major evidence to get him to change his mind. He’s stubborn.”

“Then we’ll just have to be even more determined—and outlast him. Are you up for that?”

Eli shrugged, his eyes glinting at the challenge. “I told you when we first talked about this that I didn’t expect Harry to be easily convinced.” He shrugged. “Tonight was just the opening salvo in a campaign—but in the end, we’ll win.”

Frankie stared at him, arrested. “You sound like a character out of the
Godfather
movies. I suppose next you’ll be telling me we need to go to the mattresses.”

He laughed out loud. “We might reach that point, knowing Harry.”

“I know,” Frankie murmured, distracted by the flash of his smile in the shadowy interior of the limo. “I confess, when I came up with this plan, I thought we could be seen together a couple of times and Harry would abandon his matchmaking schemes. I should have known he wouldn’t give up so easily.”

“Not to worry.” Eli picked up her hand, threading her fingers through his before resting their joined hands on
his thigh. “We’re partners, right? The two of us together are a match for Harry.”

The car slowed, pulling to the curb and stopping. Eli glanced out the window. “We’re home.” Before their driver could exit to open their door, Eli stepped out and opened an umbrella as he turned to lend Frankie a hand.

Rain pattered on the umbrella, but beneath it Frankie was warm and dry, tucked into the curve of Eli’s side, his hand at her waist. They hurried up the sidewalk to the shelter of the condo building’s wide overhang. The lobby was empty and quiet when they entered, the elevator and third-floor hallway equally hushed.

Frankie unlocked her door and turned, her shoulder brushing against Eli’s black tux jacket. “I’ll call you as soon as I talk to Mom and find out where we might run into Harry again,” she told him.

“Sounds good.” He leaned in and brushed a kiss against her mouth. “Good night,” he murmured, his blue eyes darkened between half-lowered lashes.

“Good night,” Frankie managed to respond before slipping inside and closing the door. She leaned back against the panels, hearing the sound of the elevator’s ping announcing its arrival, then silence. She hurried across her living room and peered out through the blinds at the street below. Short moments later, Eli moved across the sidewalk and ducked into the waiting limo. Then the car pulled away from the curb and disappeared around the corner at the end of her street.

She left the window and moved slowly into her
bedroom, stripping off her coat and hanging it away in the closet before unzipping her gown and stepping out of it.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Eli as she finished undressing, removing her bracelet. To her relief, the necklace clasp opened easily, and she tucked it and the bracelet into her jewelry box. But when she took off the matching earrings, she discovered one of them was missing. Despite searching the carpet and shaking out the green gown and evening coat, she didn’t find the one-of-a-kind heirloom. With sinking heart, she added the single earring to the lacquered jewelry box and closed the lid.

I can’t imagine how I’ll find a jeweler to create a matching earring,
she thought as she slipped into pink flannel pajama bottoms and a cotton tank top.

The troubling loss of her earring was soon set aside as she returned to thoughts of Eli. So far, her plan to erase unrealistic romantic notions left over from her teenage years was failing miserably. Eli Wolf was even more charming than she’d expected.

And kissing him could prove to be addictive,
she thought as she settled under the comforter and turned out the lamp.

She still believed her plan to make Harry cease his matchmaking by convincing him she was madly in love with Eli would work.

But she wasn’t nearly as positive that spending more time with Eli would cure her of her high school crush. In fact, she suspected it just might do the opposite.

O
n Sunday afternoon following the fundraiser for the Children’s Hospital, Frankie drove to her mother’s house. She was sure Cornelia would question her about Eli, but her mother didn’t raise the subject as they chatted about the success of the event while brewing a pot of tea in the kitchen. While Frankie loaded a tray with the Wedgwood teapot and cups, Cornelia carried napkins and a plate of shortbread biscuits out to the front porch just as a white pickup with a Wolf Construction logo on the doors pulled to a stop at the curb.

“Frankie,” Cornelia called, peering out a tall window as the driver stepped out of the pickup. “Isn’t that Eli? Were you expecting him?”

Frankie stepped out onto the porch, carrying the tea
tray. She set the heavy silver tray on the low table in front of her mother and looked out the window.

There was no mistaking the tall, broad-shouldered man strolling up the walk—and no denying the swift surge of pleased surprise the sight of him elicited in Frankie.

“It
is
Eli—but I have no idea why he’s here.”

Cornelia had renovated the porch of her beautifully restored Queen Anne home and enclosed the wide space with waist-high windows. Now it was an extension of the living room, a wide glassed-in entry room that ran the length of the front of the house. Lazily turning wooden fans were suspended from the high ceiling; the floor was painted a glossy gray, and area rugs dotted the gleaming wood boards. Chairs and sofas of white wicker with colorful pillows were grouped in comfortable seating areas down the length of the room. At the moment, Cornelia sat in an armchair, its soft cushions covered in bright cotton with a coral and green floral pattern. Frankie took a seat on the padded white wooden swing, within reach of the low wicker table where she’d set the tea tray.

Eli glanced up as he neared, his gaze meeting Frankie’s through the glass. He smiled, his stride quickening as he loped up the three shallow steps to the door.

“Come in, Eli,” Cornelia called.

“Hello, ladies.”

Frankie felt the room shrink as he stepped inside and closed the door, his presence seeming to suck up the oxygen. He wore faded jeans, black boots, and a
pale blue polo shirt under a worn brown bomber jacket. Raindrops glistened in his black hair as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung the damp leather over the back of a nearby rocking chair.

She drew a deep breath and patted the cushion beside her. “I didn’t expect to see you today—how did you know I was here?”

“I stopped by Justin and Lily’s place to deliver the plans for Ava’s rabbit hutch—which has turned into a rabbit-condo-castle,” he said with a wry grin. “Lily told me you’d mentioned spending the afternoon with your mom, so I thought I’d drop by on my way home.” He shoved one hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out a glittering jet and gold earring. “You lost this in the car last night. I thought you might be worried about it.”

“Oh, you found it! Thank goodness.” Frankie held out her cupped hand, and Eli dropped the earring into her palm.

He settled onto the swing, one arm stretched out along the seat back behind her.

“I was so upset—I was afraid I’d lost it forever.” Impulsively, she leaned sideways into Eli and kissed his cheek. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes smiled at her. “Feel free to lose jewelry in my car anytime. I like the way you say thank you.”

Frankie felt heat move up her cheeks and knew her face was no doubt pink. She shot a quick glance at her mother from beneath lowered lashes. An amused,
indulgent smile played about Cornelia’s lips. Apparently, her mother approved of Eli’s charm.

“I hope I don’t lose track of any more family heirlooms in the future, but if I do, it’s nice to know you’ll find them for me.” She patted his cheek with easy familiarity and shifted back, away from the hard curve of his body. Pretending she didn’t miss the sheer pleasure she felt in leaning against his warm strength, she leaned forward and picked up the Wedgwood teapot. “Mom and I are having Earl Grey—would you like a cup?”

She poured and handed Cornelia a delicate cup and saucer before glancing inquiringly at Eli.

“Tea?” He winced. “Honey, you know I don’t do tea.”

She couldn’t help laughing at his apologetic but pained expression. “I’m sure Mom has something else to drink.”

“Actually, I just had hot chocolate with Ava, so I’m good.”

“Did you drink it out of a mug or a thimble-sized toy china teacup?” Frankie asked, stirring sugar into her own tea before sitting back on the swing, cup in hand, one foot tucked beneath her so she could face Eli.

“Today we sat at the kitchen-island counter and had normal size mugs,” Eli told her. He shook his head. “Thank God. I can hardly pick up those tiny cups of hers. Not to mention, sitting at that little-girl table scares me. I’m constantly worrying the chair won’t hold me and I’ll break it.”

Frankie and Cornelia smiled with sympathy. Frankie
had a swift mental image of Eli’s tall, broad body perched on one of Ava’s child-sized chairs. The picture was endearing.

“Do you see a lot of Ava?” she asked, sipping her tea.

“Not as much as I’d like—Justin has to spend quite a bit of time on his ranch in Idaho.” He leaned forward, taking a shortbread biscuit from the plate on the tea tray. “But when they’re in Seattle, we get together fairly often.” He glanced at Frankie, the tiny smile lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m her honorary uncle, and apparently Ava thinks that requires certain duties.”

“One of which is having tea with her dolls?” Frankie guessed.

“Yeah, that’s one of them.” He pretended to shudder, but the fond smile barely curving his lips told her he didn’t really mind playing tea party with the little girl.

Rain pattered against the glass. Frankie sighed and eyed the wet world outside with gloom. “I think I’ll cancel tonight. The thought of standing around in the rain at a campus rally for world peace doesn’t appeal.”