Finding Grace: A Novel (22 page)

She cleared her throat a little, composing
herself, and then she looked up at him.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you turn up
like a bad penny?"

"I should be asking you that question," he
replied. "You're the one who keeps turning up everywhere I go. I'm
telling you, this obsession you have with me has got to stop."

She just shook her head. Despite her
attempts to stifle it, a little laugh escaped her. But she’d never
been good at silly conversation. And this time was no
different.

"So where is your other half? I saw her
leave the party, and she didn’t look too happy."

He came around the bench, sitting down
beside her. She moved over slightly to maintain a safe distance. He
gave her an odd look for it, but said nothing of it. He looked out
ahead of him, watching the boats on the water.

"She stayed at home. She and I had a
disagreement, and I decided to take a walk."

"And you ended up here?"

He shrugged. "Let’s not talk about her.”

Her eyes grew a little larger. "Who should
we talk about then?"

He turned towards her, looking at her with
eyes that were warm and soft. "You.”

She felt her heart skip a beat, and she had
to tear her eyes away from him before she melted into a puddle. She
looked out at the boats on the water, trying her best just to keep
her senses.

"Why talk about me? You won’t find much
that’s interesting.”

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," he replied.
“Since I met you, I have to admit you’ve made me very curious. Tell
me some things, if you will, and satisfy my need to know."

Wringing her hands, she spoke nervously.
"What kind of things?"

"Well, for one thing, you never did answer
my question. Why are you here, when the rest of your family is at
home?"

It was the second time he had asked her of
it. And something in his voice told her he truly wanted to
know…that he wasn't just asking for the sake of asking.

Over several minutes she told him her tale.
He let her speak with little interruption, only occasionally giving
his opinion, and when he did speak it was with a kind of warmth and
concern. She was discovering an aspect of him that was very
alluring…one she would never have expected.

He was an excellent listener.

It was the first time in so very long that
anyone had asked her questions, or showed a genuine interest in
her. She found herself feeling quite warm and comfortable with
him…and the barriers around her heart soon began to fall away. When
she finished speaking, he shook his head in disbelief.

"Remarkable, the way people can be to one
another. If I had a daughter, I can't imagine ever forcing her into
anything as serious as marriage. And as for your friend
Charlie…it’s a shame that your rock missed his head."

She laughed a little. Strange as it seemed,
she found herself wanting to please and amuse him. Still, she was
wary of him, managing to remember that he belonged to another. They
could never grow close, even if they wanted to.

But she did not voice her thought. It was
enough to feel it lingering in her heart. With a deep breath and a
sigh, she looked at him and smiled.

"You know, you can be quite nice when you
want to be.

He scoffed…but wore a little smirk. "You
just caught me on an off day.”

Up in the sky, the fireworks began to pop
and shine. The colors burst forth in all of their fiery splendor,
but she only looked up at them for a moment. She felt his eyes
watching her, and when she looked back at him, he was watching her
with those burning eyes of his…and she found she could not look
away from him.

That smoldering fire in his eyes held her
captive…and a moment later his fingers brushed her cheek, sending a
tremor down her spine. Her eyes closed on their own, for she knew
by some deep instinct what would come next. And then his lips
brushed hers, soft and warm. Her whole being seemed to burn…her
head felt light and dizzy, and she had to take in a breath when he
separated from her for a moment. Then he kissed her a second time,
and she felt a weakness that threatened to take over her entire
frame. Then another feeling came over her…one of fear and shame,
and almost of their own will her hands came up and pushed at his
shoulders.

"No, I can’t!" She made to rise quickly and
leave. But he grasped her wrist, holding it firmly.

"Don't go yet. I promise I won't kiss you
again."

"I'm sorry, I can't stay.” She managed to
free her wrist, and fled from him before he could detain her
again.

It did not matter to her
that her lips still burned from his kiss. It did not matter that
she wanted to go back and be with him…to feel the fire that he had
let loose within her. He was not hers to have. He belonged to
another. And more importantly, she would not be lured like a moth
to a flame.
I won’t be his next
Victoria
, she thought.
A heart can only handle so much damage, and I won’t let him
have mine to break.

Chapter 11

“
Hide and
Seek
”

He knew he should have left right then. But
the thought was a weak flicker in the back of his mind. Instead he
rose from the bench and went after her. Just as she reached the
doorway of the auditorium he caught her by the arm, and the
strength with which she fought him was stunning.

"Let go!" she cried, trying to wrestle her
arm free.

"Stop squirming and be still," he said, but
she kept on. She tried to pry his fingers off, and when that didn’t
work she dug her nails into his flesh, causing him to yelp in pain
and release her for a moment. But her dash was short, for he caught
hold of her again, this time by both arms. The look on her face was
positively wild.

“
Good God, woman. Will you
control yourself? It’s not like I was trying to attack you. For
crying out loud, it was just a kiss.”

“
It shouldn’t have even gone
that far!” With a great effort she wrenched herself away, dashing
behind a pillar to hide.

But this time, he didn’t make a lunge to
pull her back. He let her go willingly, if it would be the only way
to calm her. Leaning against the opposite side of the stone column,
he sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. Then, in the
silence that lingered between them, a little smirk came to his face
as he thought about what had just happened.

She looked incredible when she was riled up.
And kissing her had been unbelievable, even as brief and simple as
it had been. Just the touch of her lips on his had lit a fire
inside of him.

He almost laughed at himself, thinking that
the idea of being “On Fire” sounded like some stupid depiction in a
love novel. But he knew blazing chemistry when he felt it.

If only she would stop acting like a child
and admit that she felt it too.

She’d been stirred, he had no doubt. He
turned slightly, so that his voice would travel and fall directly
on her ear. His tone was soft, deep and sensual.

"Did you really hate it so much?"

There was a long pause, but he knew she was
listening. He knew she was still there. He could feel her presence.
But the reply she gave him was one he wasn’t ready for.

“
I’m not your pet, Henry
Shaw. You have one of those at home. If you want someone to play
with you can go home to her. Maybe she’s ready to crawl into your
bed, but you won’t get that from me.”

He was stunned. By the outright boldness of
her statement…by what she was implying. She was accusing him of
entrapment…of seduction. She thought his only intention was to get
her into his bed. Such an accusation felt like a slap in the
face.

Because he knew it was pretty much the
truth.

Suddenly it felt like someone was thrusting
a mirror in his hands, demanding that he take a look at himself.
But the last thing on earth he wanted was to search his soul…and he
fled from the source of conflict…from her.

Voices were nagging him as he went. Two
strange, small voices seemed to whisper in his ears…like the
proverbial devil and angel perched upon either of his
shoulders.

Have you given a damn about any of the women
you’ve slept with?

No, but they didn’t care about me either, so
what the hell difference does it make?

You would have slept with Grace Langdon, if
you’d had the chance. Don’t lie to yourself.

God, it was true. Suddenly he found himself
grappling with shame, which was a feeling he hadn’t known in so
long that it scared him. If she hadn’t stopped him, he would have
taken advantage of her and not given it a second thought. He’d done
that to other women without his conscience being pricked. So why
was he now feeling like such a toad? And the answer came to him
instantly.

The other women weren’t innocent girls. Not
that they were trash he’d picked up off the street, but they’d
warmed a few beds besides his.

But Grace Langdon was pure and untouched. It
was quite possible she’d never even been kissed until just now. And
he’d been ready to take out all of his passion on her innocent
little body. Lord, he really was a shameless snake.

He was still at war with himself when he
came up the front steps of the house. When he came in, he saw right
away the figure lying over on the sofa. He knew what that implied,
and he had to say he did not blame her for it. If it had been
himself, he would not have wanted to share the bed either. He went
over and sat down in the chair beside her, and he spoke to her in a
low, quiet voice.

"Victoria, are you awake?"

She turned her back to him, pulled the
blanket closer around her neck. Her answer was sharp.

“
Get away from
me.”

He ran a frustrated hand over his face,
sighing.

God, I wish I was better at
this,
he thought.
If we were both men, we would settle this with our fists, and
then go have a few drinks and be done with it.

“
Look,” he said. “You may be
pissed at me, and that’s your right. But we’ve still got a business
to run, so we might as well just call a truce right here and
now.”

“
To hell with your truce. To
hell with you, you selfish bastard.”

He let out a defeated sigh. "Fine. Would you
rather go upstairs and sleep, and leave me here on the sofa?"

"No," she spat viciously. "Just leave me
alone."

He sighed again, and left her there.

Going up the stairs, he was
suddenly so very tired. Not tired from exertion, but tired from all
that had happened in just the last few hours. Since the end of his
marriage, he’d made it a point to live a simple life. But lately,
he found his life was full of complications. And he
hated
complications.

In the bedroom, he removed all of his
clothing quickly, for it felt like he was being smothered by the
restraints of them. He kicked the garments aside, not bothering to
get near the clothes hamper. There were more important things on
his mind tonight than tidiness. He slipped into his pajama pants,
and felt some relief, being free of the confinement that clothing
could sometimes bring.

What was he to do now? He couldn't just get
rid of Victoria. Much as he would have liked to simply end their
relationship, he knew it wasn't that simple. It may have been a
shallow fact, but Victoria was more than his mistress. She was the
main attraction of his show. It was she who the people paid to see,
and if he lost her, his business would surely be in turmoil. She
could just up and go if she wanted to, and some other eager
businessman would be glad to take her in and make a fortune off of
her. He could not let that happen.

The other problem was the
one he’d left back at the pier, and his mood was growing darker by
the moment as he thought of her. Naïve, decent little woman that
she was. And that made him even more frustrated, and he cursed to
himself,
Damn her and her
decency
. If she was like other women he’d
known, he wouldn’t be in this lousy state of mind. He might have
been in a warm bed with a warm body. But no, she was an untainted
little country blossom who was making him feel things he hadn’t
felt in years. God almighty she was a nuisance. At first it had all
been fun and games with her, teasing and provoking her for his own
enjoyment. But then she had to go and weave her spell, and now here
he was feeling guilty about how he had treated her. The girl had
been nothing but trouble since the first day he'd met her. All he
wanted to do now was forget about her and salvage what was left of
his peaceful life.

He let out a breath as he
went to the bed and fell down on it, and he closed his eyes and
rested his face against the cool of his pillow. After a time he
began to relax, and before he fell asleep he found himself
thinking,
I hope she can’t sleep. I hope
all she can think about is me. It would serve her right, the little
witch.

* * * * *

She slept fitfully that night, trying to
forget what had happened and failing miserably. All she could think
about was the feel of his lips on hers, the wonderful warmth and
sweetness of his mouth. Even his taste and scent. Lord in heaven,
she would never have imagined that such a sensation existed, but it
was there still, burning on her lips. It was as if he’d branded her
with his kiss, and now it was haunting her, thrilling her, and
frustrating her so badly that it made her want to cry. Flopping her
head back on her pillow, she brought her hands up to her face in
frustration. And words suddenly flowed into her head.