Boston Avant-Garde: Impetuous (9 page)

He lifted the lid and rested his fingers against the keys. From now on, he would have to be satisfied with a memory. The hammers struck the strings, deep tones ringing through the bar. The enharmonic patterns of his left hand balanced the sweet, underlying melody he carried through his right. Not in life but in music the balance of opposites was always achieved. Light and dark, one tempered the other, weaving complex configurations that defied the petty parameters of rules, of society, of everything.

A tingle slipped down his spine. He thought of her passion, her unbridled desire to experience everything all at once. The sweet demands of her body were in perfect opposition to her repression, but her budding confidence gave her the brass to reach out and take what she wanted.

His song built, tinged with the remembrance of softly yielding flesh, tongues entwined in an age-old dance, and desire that never seemed to be quenched. His eyes were closed, every fiber of his being focused on the expression of something he dared not let himself feel.

* * * *

Desiree wished it were possible to lose all her problems to the cool kiss of the water. There was something so utterly peaceful about swimming laps. The water in her ears drowned out any noise outside the pool’s gleaming borders. There was nothing but the sound of her heartbeat and the rushing of the water past her limbs.

Stopping midstroke in the center of the lane, she rolled over and floated on her back. The sky was brilliant overhead. No harbor gray, just deep blue studded with fluffy white clouds. A breeze brushed over her skin, raising gooseflesh. Bobbing right-side up, she drifted toward the shallow end.

“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself.”

She grabbed the rounded railing, surprised to see Jackson waiting for her at the top of the steps. He held her towel in one hand. She was reminded of the weird vibe she’d gotten from him beneath the portico. Until today she could’ve counted her conversations with Jackson Wilhelm on one hand.

She lunged for her towel, but he held it just out of reach. “Here, I’ll get it.”

There was something exaggerated about the way he draped the towel around her. His palms rested on her shoulders, fingers lightly stroking her skin. She drew the thick nap close around her breasts, feeling the urge to hide as much of her body as possible from his probing gaze.

“It looked earlier like you’d had a great time last night.”

“Harmon is an interesting conversationalist.”

One corner of his mouth twisted up in the parody of a smile. “I talked to my cousin this morning, Desiree. He certainly didn’t have as much fun as you apparently did.”

For all that she didn’t really know him, she’d never liked Jackson. With his lanky frame and spare build, he looked like a little boy trying to step into his father’s shoes, which was a fairly accurate description of his station in life. His blond hair and blue eyes were all the rage with the debutante crowd, but Desiree had recently discovered she preferred her men bald, muscular, and pierced.

“I had no idea you were the partying type, but I’m looking forward to spending some time with you tonight.” This time he didn’t bother to hide his frank perusal of her body. “Seven o’clock, and wear something sexy.”

Stumbling toward her deck chair, Desiree snatched up her makeshift swimsuit cover-up and walked away from the pool as fast as she could without breaking into a run. Tears burned hot tracks down her face. She jumped up the steps into the house, water dripping down her legs, and suddenly ran headfirst into something large, muscular, and male.

“Watch it, sweetheart. I prefer a little foreplay before you knock me to the ground and have your way with me.”

The sight of Joshua Breckenridge shouldn’t have been such a relief. He annoyed the hell out of her on a good day. Now he was a friendly face. “I’m so sorry, Josh. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Obviously.” He looked her up and down, taking in her disheveled appearance and lingering over her face.

“What are you doing here anyway?” She swiped at her teary eyes, trying to pull it together. You couldn’t sneak anything past Josh. The man was a brilliant attorney as well as a legendary womanizer. Although he and his partner Seth were happily involved in a serious long-term relationship with a friend of Talia’s from music school.

“Jackson had to sign some concessions on the prenup. Once he was done, your mother had a few items she wanted to discuss.” Josh glanced up, his gaze focusing over her shoulder.

She had a horrible feeling she knew exactly who’d followed her into the house.

Jackson sauntered up, casually flinging an arm around her shoulders. “I wondered where you’d run off to, Desiree.”

Her skin crawled. Looking for salvation in the spacious hallway, she found herself caught by Joshua’s keen blue gaze.

“Actually, Jackson, Desiree was trying to find me before I left. We’ve got some business to discuss. Isn’t that right?” He held out an arm, and she gratefully stepped away from Jackson.

“Thanks so much for making time to talk to me, Josh. I know you’ve got a lot on your schedule.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all.”

From the corner of her eye, Desiree watched Jackson shrug before walking in the opposite direction. When they left the hall for the foyer, she nearly melted with relief.

“Okay. I think we’re safely out of range.” Josh shifted the document folder under his arm. “I’m going to say this because I think you’ve already figured it out for yourself, but—”

“My sister’s future husband is the biggest asshole on earth.”

“Well, to be fair, probably not the biggest. I’ve met some serious assholes in my time, but he ranks up there near the top. I’d just never considered him dangerous until now.”

“Dangerous?” The web of tangled emotions inside her chest began to tighten like a noose.

“If I were you, I’d be using the buddy system where he was concerned.”

A headache started throbbing behind her left eye. “Don’t let myself get caught alone with Jackson, right.”

He touched her shoulder, probably afraid she would bite his head off if he offered any comfort. “Desiree, are you all right?”

She wanted to shout that she was not all right. She hadn’t been all right since Nicolai had called her a cab. Which was just stupid, because calling a cab was hardly a big deal, but somehow it had taken on a whole new significance with him. She’d wanted to stay. He’d told her to just be there, and then he’d told her to leave. She wished she understood why he’d had such a sudden change of heart.

“I think you should call Erik and tell him what’s going on,” Josh said.

“I would, but Talia hasn’t been feeling well. I don’t want to bother him for nothing.”

“Talia will be fine. She’s almost through the first trimester, so all this nausea should stop. At least I think it should. That’s what Leslie thinks anyway.” He frowned. “Thank God Leslie will have both Seth and me if she ever has to go through this whole pregnancy thing. I have a feeling I’ll be useless. I can’t stand to see her under the weather.”

Something he said jarred Desiree’s brain, bringing her out of her funk like being dumped in ice water. “Wait. Did you just say pregnant?”

“Yes.” He had the look of someone who’d just made a major faux pas. “I’m guessing your brother hadn’t gotten around to mentioning that just yet?”

It felt like she’d had the wind knocked out of her. “Yes. I mean, no, he hadn’t.”

“Shit, sorry. Look, just call him, all right?”

“I will. Thank you. My room is just up the stairs. I appreciate your intervention, really.” She’d never wanted to excuse herself from a conversation so badly before in her life.

“No problem. Glad I could help.”

* * * *

Showered, rested, and sorting through correspondence e-mails, Desiree began to wonder if she was overreacting to the whole thing. Jackson Wilhelm had never been anything but painfully polite in public. Surely she and Joshua had just misread the entire situation. Or, more likely, she’d misread Jackson’s intentions, and Joshua had been reacting to her discomfort. A few rude comments didn’t make him a rapist. At least at the end of the day, he’d be Selena’s sexist pig to deal with.

Except that an overreaction on her part didn’t explain Joshua’s pointed assessment of Jackson’s character. Of course, even Josh had mentioned he’d considered Jackson harmless up until now. Regardless, Desiree was going to keep an eye on Jackson Wilhelm. The same instinct that told her Nicolai was a good guy said Jackson had bad written all over him. Then there was the whole thing with her brother and Talia expecting their first child.

“This is the latest batch of mail.” Jackie carefully put a basket overflowing with expensive custom-ordered cards and envelopes on the desktop.

Desiree tried to focus on the task at hand. “I think I’ve got the e-mail list straightened out. I’ve responded to the affirmatives and forwarded you two separate lists of ones to add to the calendar and those that need a form letter for decline.”

“I’ll get right on that.”

“Thanks, and just so you’re aware, my mother met someone this last week who’s apparently her next Mr. Right Now. So prepare yourself.”

Jackie puffed her cheeks out and pushed her wire-rimmed glasses back into place. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll try to come up with a weekend contingency plan.”

“Just make sure your plan has enough room for a supposed villa in Tuscany.” The poor woman had been their personal secretary for almost six years. Mother liked her for her efficiency, but also because, with her mouse-brown hair and dark eyes, she was plain. Jackie’s predecessor had been caught sleeping with husband number three.

Plowing through the wedding invitations, engagement announcements, birth and christening announcements, and graduation notices was tedious work. Desiree was glad. Anything that kept her from thinking about the ramifications of her brother expecting the first baby in the next generation of Aasens was a welcome distraction. There was still a little part of her that wanted to stomp its foot like a petulant child. She was the oldest. It was supposed to have been her getting all the attention, walking down the aisle, expecting the first grandchild. Except she’d have been miserable had she taken that path.

So it was back to the towering pile of cards. She could still remember the first time she’d opened a piece of thick stationary with its embossed letterhead and custom-ordered script. She’d thought it was as beautiful as it was fascinating. In the ten years since, she’d begun to hate the sight of cream-colored cards and envelopes. If she ever got pushed into marriage, her invitations were going to be something totally out of the ordinary, like purple and green.

Yes, because Mardi Gras is so urban chic these days.

“You’d better leave that for tomorrow, Desiree.” Jackie looked up at the clock. “Don’t you have to get ready for the charity auction?”

“I suppose I do.” She put the basket aside and stood up, resolute.

All this drama with Jackson was probably just his asinine version of wedding jitters. That was all it was. Her sister’s fiancé was going to behave himself and act like a gentleman. This was the man her baby sister was going to marry. He might be boring, but he loved her sister, and that was what really mattered.

“Watching the door isn’t going to make her walk through it, Nicolai.”

Nicolai tore his gaze away from the front door and forced himself to focus on the drink order he’d been trying to put together for what seemed like an eternity. Damn Flynn and his nosy habits. He was only looking for her so he’d be able to duck into the back when she walked in. He figured it’d be better that way. Like quitting any addiction, cold turkey was about the only way that worked. Not that he was addicted to Desiree.

Item number one on the twelve-step program? Denial.

“I’d like to buy you a drink, Nicky.” Erik slid onto the bar stool in front of him.

Guilt closed in until Nicolai could hardly draw breath. Step number eight: make amends to those you’ve hurt by your actions. Erik had always believed in him, even back when he didn’t deserve a pot to piss in.

“C’mon, I’m celebrating!”

Nicolai found his voice. “What’s the occasion? I thought your sister’s wedding wasn’t for a few more days.”

“Talia’s pregnant!”

A wave of honest joy had Nicolai smiling so wide he thought his face might crack. Erik and Talia deserved whatever joy life could send their way. “Hear, hear! Flynn!”

“What’s up, Nicky?” Flynn glanced from him to Erik as if trying to sense the mood.

“Talia’s expecting. Crack open the good stuff, and let’s have a toast to a guy about to get a crash course in diapers and baby puke!”

“Wow, you’ve really got a beautiful way of putting things.” Erik leaned over and slugged him in the arm.

Flynn popped the cork on a bottle of Bollinger they kept on hand for special occasions. He poured three frothy glasses of the stuff, and they each grabbed one up, lifting them high.

“To the next generation of Aasens,” Nicolai began.

Erik laughed out loud. “May they not be born with silver spoons stuck up their asses.”

“Amen.” Flynn lifted his glass and downed the contents in one go.

Erik’s words gave Nicolai a jolt. He knew his friend loved his sisters no matter what he said about them in fun. Nicolai didn’t know the youngest Aasen sibling, but after meeting Desiree, he knew the current generation was pretty amazing for a bunch of old money kids from Brookline.

Flynn hustled off to pour some shots, leaving Erik and Nicolai alone at the end of the bar. Nicolai ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his champagne glass. The overhead lights caught on the glass, refracting into tiny shards of brightness that peppered the surface of the bar. There were so many ways this could go. There was no reason he needed to tell Erik what had happened between him and Desiree. Except it wasn’t in him to withhold that kind of information.

“What’s eating you, Nicolai?”

He looked up and met his friend’s green gaze. Green just like his sister’s.

“You ready to get your bar back?”