Blue Mist of Morning (21 page)

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Authors: Donna Vitek

BOOK: Blue Mist of Morning
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Watching the straight, implacable line of his back as he
strode out of the room, Anne raised trembling fingers to her temples.
Her gaze sought the window, and she looked out at the blue mist of
morning, veiling the rolling mountains, shimmering through the tears
that suddenly blurred her vision. Closing her eyes, she turned her face
into the pillow and wrapped her arms around her waist. Without Ty in
the bed close to her, the chill of the room permeated the covers. She
shivered, feeling as if she would never be warm again. If only he could
understand that making a decision wasn't as simple for her as it might
have been. If she had even a small hope that he might begin to love her
someday, she would surrender to him happily. But knowing about his
involvement with Millicent Beaumont changed everything.

Chapter Twelve

The following Tuesday evening there was a knock on Ty's
front door just as Anne started down the stairs. Before she could make
a move to answer it, however, Ty left the study and went to the door
himself. Anne halted halfway down the stairs, then smiled when she
recognized Mike's voice. Hoping he had come to see Jenny, she descended
one more step, but her smile faded abruptly when Ty spoke.

"Sorry, Mike, but Anne's busy," he announced flatly. "She
can't see you now. Call her later or see her at the office tomorrow.
Goodnight."

"Wait, Ty," Anne called, running lightly down the
remaining steps and across the hall. Intending to tell him Mike was
probably there to see Jenny, she touched his arm imploringly. "Let him
in, please. He's…"

"No," he muttered, his jaw clenched. Then to her
astonishment, and despite Mike's nearly comical befuddlement, he
closed the door firmly in the young man's face.

Anne stared incredulously at the thunderous expression
that darkened Ty's features. "I warned you, Anne," he said too quietly.
"You won't go out with Mike while I'm paying you to be here."

All Anne's pent-up resentment and pain erupted. Angry
color blazed in her cheeks as she clenched her hands into fists at her
sides. He cared nothing about her, yet he controlled her entire
existence. She could tolerate his attitude no longer. "Then I think
it's time I left your house," she said bitingly. "You can't tell me
whom I can or can't go out with. I won't have it. I'm moving back to my
own apartment, where I can run my own life. I'm plenty tired of your
running it for me."

"You're not leaving," he informed her with infuriating
calm, though his blue eyes glittered ominously. "Jenny still needs you."

"Since you're so interested in Jenny's welfare, let me
tell you something. She's up in her room right now, crying. That's what
I was coming to tell you," Anne declared tautly. "I think I know now
why she's been acting so foolishly. She just told me she had an
argument with your father the day he died. She wanted to spend the
summer in Europe with a friend, but he refused to let her go, since she
was only sixteen. So she told him that he was a terrible father. Then
he was killed before she could apologize to him. She feels horribly
guilty."

"She told you that?" Ty exclaimed. "You mean that's what's
been bothering her all this time?"

"I told her she shouldn't feel so guilty," Anne murmured,
her anger dissolving to mere weariness of the spirit. "I tried to
explain that all parents know children say things they don't really
mean. But I couldn't convince her."

"I wish she'd told me all this long ago," Ty muttered, his
voice strained. "I talked to Dad after she did that day, and he was
laughing about the argument they'd had. Goodness, she was only sixteen.
Of course, he wasn't upset when she called him a terrible father! He
knew she didn't mean it."

As Ty raked his fingers through his hair, Anne longed to
touch him comfortingly. Yet, knowing she had no right to do so, she
said instead, "Go tell her, Ty. She'll be so relieved to know your
father wasn't angry with her that day. I think it'll make all the
difference in her attitude."

"Yes," he murmured absently, removing his loosened tie
completely. "Yes, I'll go up and tell her now."

As he started to walk away, Anne took one step after him,
an oppressive heaviness squeezing her chest. "She will be all right
now, Ty, I'm sure of it," she called softly after him. "You know, she
told me that phone call the other night was from Mike Bennett, not
Kirt. She hasn't seen him since we got back from St. Croix." When he
stopped at the foot of the stairs to look back at her, she tried to
force a semblance of a smile. "So when she knows the truth about your
father, you won't need me here any longer after all. Please, let me
move back to my apartment."

"No, Anne. Don't start packing yet," he replied
tonelessly. "Jenny's been through a traumatic year and she may need you
here to talk to for quite some time."

"But Ty! I…"

"You're staying," he interrupted bluntly, stony blue eyes
raking over her. "Resign yourself to it. Besides, Sue needs the extra
money I pay you, doesn't she?"

Anne winced, appalled he'd so callously remind her of her
financial problems. Squaring her shoulders, she met his eyes directly.
"Don't worry about Sue. I'll take care of her money needs…
somehow."

"Not by moonlighting as a waitress again. Or by taking any
other kind of second job," he countered, his expression hard,
unyielding. "Don't try that if you want to keep your job as my
secretary."

"Are you threatening to fire me again?" she exclaimed, her
voice choked with a sudden knot of unshed tears. "If you are,
I'll…"

"You'll what? What can you do?" he countered mockingly.
"You can't help Sue at all if you don't have your job, so it looks as
if you'll have to stay here as long as I want you to."

"You really are ruthless, aren't you?" she whispered, her
face paling. "I don't understand… why you're doing this to
me."

"We'll talk about that later. Right now, I want to make
Jenny understand she's had no reason to feel guilty," Ty replied
blandly, lifting one foot onto the first stair. Then he paused, his
enigmatic gaze drifting lazily over Anne once more. "Oh, and by the
way, we'll be driving to Charlottesville on business Thursday evening.
And we'll be staying overnight."

Too stunned by his cruelty, Anne couldn't even nod in
acknowledgement. Her eyes overflowed with tears as he took the stairs,
two at a time, on his way up to comfort Jenny. So, he thought it was
back to business as usual. Wounded deeply by his cool aloofness, Anne
pressed her fingers to her lips. It could never be business as usual
for her again, especially if she had to remain in his house, so close
to him, yet worlds apart.

Darkness was falling around the Mercedes Thursday evening
when Anne suddenly realized that Ty seemed to be taking a strange route
to Charlottesville. She glanced curiously at him out of the corner of
her eye, but said nothing, supposing he knew what he was doing. A half
hour later, however, when he turned the Mercedes onto the winding
parkway that they usually traveled to reach his mountain house, she
felt compelled to say something. "Isn't this sort of a roundabout way
to get to Charlottesville?" she asked somewhat hesitantly. "I've never
gone there this way before."

"There's been a change of plan," he answered flatly,
expertly maneuvering the Mercedes around the sharp curves with one lean
hand on the steering wheel. "We aren't going to Charlottesville. We're
going up to the house."

"Oh, I see," Anne murmured, though she really didn't. "I'm
surprised Mrs. Morehead's willing to come up here to discuss her
investments. I thought she hated to leave Charlottesville and that's
why we were going to see her."

Taking his eyes from the road for a brief instant, Ty gave
her a bland look. "As I said, there's been a change of plan."

Since he was obviously disinclined to offer any further
explanation, Anne didn't press him for one. Instead, she gazed out her
window at the dark bowl of the Shenandoah Valley, where tiny lights in
tiny houses glowed warm and cozy in the night.

Ty said nothing, even after he had parked the car in front
of the mountain house. As he took their suitcases from the back seat
and Goldie bounded ecstatically around his feet, a sudden realization
made Anne speak up. "Oh dear," she sighed. "What are we going to feed
Mrs. Morehead while she's here? Remember, Ellie left the refrigerator
bare."

"I brought some groceries," he answered flatly, indicating
she should precede him up the veranda steps. "They're in the trunk.
I'll come get them after I get this luggage inside."

A minute or so later, while he went back for the supplies,
Anne carried her suitcase upstairs and set about unpacking her things.
She took a sharp breath as Ty suddenly appeared in the doorway, dark
and lean and overwhelmingly masculine in a dove gray suit.

As she gave him a rather shy smile, he unbuttoned his vest
and removed his wine-colored tie. "You might as well not unpack in
here," he announced abruptly. "I'll take your bag into my room because
you'll be sleeping there tonight."

The low, lazy cadence of his voice seemed almost
provocative. Anne's heart began a frantic beat, but she chided herself
for simply having an over-active imagination. Lifting her delicately
arched brows questioningly, she looked at him. "I don't understand
exactly what you mean. If you're going to give your room to someone,
shouldn't it be to Mrs. Morehead?"

"Mrs. Morehead isn't coming, Anne." Smiling at her baffled
expression, he removed his jacket as he added, "We weren't ever going
to Charlottesville to see her either. I only told you that so I could
bring you up here."

Anne's pulses hammered and as her legs went weak, she
reached out to grasp the bedpost for support. "What do you mean?" she
squeaked. "Why did you…"

"We have a great deal to talk about, and I decided we need
complete privacy," he said calmly, though a hint of a smile tugged at
the corners of his mouth. "But we can discuss everything later. Now,
I'm going down to put the eggs and milk into the refrigerator."

"Don't you dare leave!" Anne called impulsively as he
started to turn away from the door. But as he turned back to face her,
she modified her command. "I mean, you can't just walk away
after… after telling me we're going to be alone here and
that I'll… be sleeping in your bed. You have to explain."

"Oh, I intend to," he said softly, coming to her, taking
both her hands. "And the first thing we're going to discuss is your
plan to move back to your apartment."

"I plan to move back soon," she muttered, disappointment
causing sharp pain to radiate through her chest. "I thought I could do
it Monday evening, after work."

Darkening blue eyes searched her face. "Is that really
what you want to do, Anne?" he whispered, and when she was unable to
answer him, he shook his head. "No, I don't think you want to move out
of my house. So, you'll stay."

"How can I? Jenny won't even be there," Anne whispered
back weakly, too aware of his nearness. "I can't just live with you,
Ty, for no good reason."

"I thought maybe just being with me would be a good enough
reason. Wouldn't it be?"

Anne's wide gray eyes searched his face for some
indication that he was teasing, but when she saw that he seemed
perfectly serious, she asked stiffly, "Are you asking me to become your
mistress?"

A soft laugh came from deep in his throat. "Something like
that, yes. Now give me an answer. Will you live with me?"

"No!" she gasped. "I couldn't do that!"

"But why couldn't you?" he murmured coaxingly, drawing her
closer and lowering his dark head. Firm lips brushed her cheeks. "I
think you care about me, Anne, and I know you want me. You're a
passionate young woman, and I've known that since the first time I
kissed you. So why shouldn't we share something beautiful together?"

As his lean hands spanned her waist and his lips trailed
nearer her mouth, she could feel her resolve weakening. It took all the
self-control she could muster to shore it up again. But she did. She
shook her head emphatically, resentment and hurt darkening her gaze. "I
have some pride, Ty, even if I am merely a secretary," she muttered,
her voice strained. "I won't… I couldn't just live with you
for awhile. And I don't see how you can even ask me to. I'm sure
Millicent Beaumont wouldn't approve of such an arrangement."

He tensed. Lifting his head, he stared down at her
upturned face, the blue light that flared in his eyes piercing hers.
"What the devil are you talking about? What does Millicent have to do
with you and me?"

"Don't play games with me, Ty, please," Anne exclaimed
softly, unable to drag her pain-darkened gaze from his. "I know about
you and Millicent. Jenny told me you were planning to marry her once,
and now that she's left her husband, you and she…" Her words
broke off as he pulled her violently against him. Her chin quivered.
"Why are you doing this to me? Let me go, please, Ty."

"No, I'm not letting you go. Ever," he answered
relentlessly, capturing her chin in one hand. Yet, there was something
akin to tender indulgence in the gaze that drifted slowly over her
face. He shook his head incredulously. "Anne, if Millicent is the
reason you suddenly went all cold on me, then we've wasted the past few
weeks for nothing. Because I am not involved romantically with
Millicent Beaumont, and I haven't been for years."

"You can't expect me to believe that!" Anne exclaimed,
trying to free herself from his iron-hard grip, but failing completely.
"If you're not involved with her, then why have you been spending every
waking minute with her lately? Why? Answer me that!"

"Don't exaggerate, Anne," he chided gently, wrapping his
arms firmly around her slenderness. "I haven't been spending every
waking minute with Millicent and you know it. I
have
been trying to help her through a difficult time. Her husband's
pressing for a reconciliation, and she really wants to go back to him,
but her family's keeping her in a state of constant confusion. They
disapprove of Luke Beaumont and, in fact, never wanted her to marry
him. So they're pressuring her to divorce him now. She just needed
someone to talk to, and she chose me."

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