Heaven in a Wildflower (12 page)

Moved by his stinging comment, Anjele said tremulously, “I wish things were different, Gator. I really do. If it were up to me, why, I’d be willing to tell the whole world we’re friends. I’d want you to come visit me, right out in the open, for everybody to see. I’m not like my family. I don’t even like slavery, and—” She shook her head briskly and threw up her hands to cry, “Oh, what difference does it make, anyway? We’ve got this summer, and that’s it. I’ll be married in a few months and will have to live in New Orleans, and if Claudia can find somebody who’ll have her, she’ll take over BelleClair and run it right into the ground once Daddy is gone. And you’ll stay in the swamps and keep working the fields till you’re an old man, and human beings will continue to be bought and sold like cattle.

“So why did we have to start talking like this?” she finished by demanding, tears she could not hold back streaming down her cheeks. “We were having a wonderful evening.”

Moonlight glinted in the golden-red threads of her hair as it cascaded over her shoulders, and her tears were tiny drops of silver on her cheeks. Brett brushed at them with gentle fingertips. “I guess it needed saying, Angel. I guess it was inside both of us, and we were trying to ignore it.

“But you don’t have to worry about me growing old in the fields.” He laughed. “I’ve got my reasons for hanging around here for a while, but then I’m striking out again.”

Though she knew it shouldn’t make any difference, because they’d never see each other again after this summer, anyway, Anjele was still struck by disappointment to think of him leaving. “But why? Where would you go? Gator, I was listening to you while you were talking tonight and telling me about the beauty of the bayou, but something else struck me, the pride and love I could hear in your voice. You love this land. Why would you want to leave it?”

He wasn’t about to confide he now had another reason besides escaping the cane fields—and she was it. Being with her, aware they were courting trouble with the intense feelings growing between them, was torture.

She was waiting for an answer he had no intention of giving, and he took her hand and reminded her, “It’s late. We’ve got to be getting back.”

But Anjele was not to be put off. “If we’re going to be friends, I’d like to know more about you, Gator. So tell me, why are you going to leave a place you obviously like?”

He shook his head and kept on walking, and Anjele, bewildered, could only join him, hating that a wonderful night should end so tensely.

When they reached the edge of the woods, the fields of cotton looked ghostly in the shimmering moonlight. Beyond stretched the land of the dancing, clattering sugarcane stalks. The river snaked in the distance, a black ribbon in the dark landscape. In the middle of it all and towering above like a grandiose castle was the mansion, pitch dark and frozen in sleep.

Stiffly, for she had become miffed by his silence, Anjele said, “You don’t have to walk me any farther.” Still, she was reluctant to leave him. The only other times she could remember being so enjoyable were those spent with her father. But her experiences with Gator were special in a different kind of way, because it was nice to have a man friend.

He was standing there, waiting for her to leave him, and despite her annoyance over his behavior, Anjele couldn’t bear the thought of parting without knowing if she’d see him again. “We’re having a barbecue on the front lawn tomorrow evening and lots of people are coming. I might not be able to get away till real late.”

His breezy response banished the hopeful smile from her face. “Well, I guess I need to get some rest anyway. We’re working pretty hard in the fields these days. It’s hard to get away.”

Anjele bit down on her lower lip and silently swore that if she started crying again, she’d throw herself in the river. It was time she started facing reality. He was obviously letting her know he didn’t want to risk seeing her again, and she couldn’t help wondering why either of them should bother anyway. What was the point? After all, it seemed ridiculous to take such chances for one summer of sunny memories to store up for a rainy day in the future.

Why, indeed, her heart screamed. She knew the answer, just as she was well aware of the risks involved. Without giving herself a chance to change her mind, she blurted out, “I’ve never had so much fun as I did tonight, Gator. When can we meet again?”

He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair, and looked away. He was trying to grasp his thoughts to express them in a way she’d understand without letting her know how goddamn much he cared, how dangerously close he was to crossing the line of no return.

She sensed he was upset and took a step closer. Gently, she reached to touch his shoulder and whispered, “If you’re really afraid of getting in trouble, I understand, and I’m sorry if I’ve been a pest, and—”

“To hell with it.” Brett swore. “I’ll be here tomorrow night.” He reached for her, unable to hold back any longer.

Anjele felt a jolt slamming throughout her body as his mouth moved on hers to possessively and thoroughly explore and savor. The wonder of it all was overwhelming, staggering, and she swayed against him.

Though her experience in kissing was scant, nothing could compare to this, the wild pounding of her heart, the overwhelming need to part her lips beneath his sweet assault and accept his tongue seeking entrance. Unfamiliar sensations began to wrap about her like a spider’s silken web as heated passion aroused to intoxicate.

His mouth was increasingly demanding, tongue seeking and tasting as he pulled her yet closer against him. He felt the swell of her breasts pressed to his chest, felt her trembling in his arms. His fingers moved from her face and with a will of their own, boldly traveled downward to cup each breast in turn.

Moaning beneath the luscious, sensual assault, Anjele clung to him in that breathless moment when time stood still. It was only when she felt his swollen manhood that she came out of the pleasured stupor.

Brett realized that in another instant, there would be no turning back, not on his part, anyway, because the lion of desire was hungrily screaming to be fed. He released her so abruptly, she stumbled backwards. “This time,” he declared raggedly, “I’m not going to say I was wrong.”

She could see his devil-may-care grin in the moonlight, and boldly matched it with one of her own. “This time,” she murmured, “I don’t want you to.”

Chapter Seven

Claudia looked in the mirror and liked what she saw—a young woman undeniably beautiful. Golden hair in ringlets cascading about a flawless face. Wide, dusty blue eyes fringed with incredibly long, silky lashes. Flawless ivory skin. A lush, curvaceous body beneath the elegant costume she wore.

The earbobs, borrowed from her adoptive mother, were shimmering pearls to match the crusted neckline of the lavender silk gown. She had opted not to wear a necklace, having no intention of detracting from the cleavage she was so proud of, well defined in the plunging bodice.

Claudia smiled at her reflection. There was no way Stephen Pardee could resist her charms this night. For the past three weeks, she’d been leading up to this time, spending every possible moment with him. At every function, she was at his side. Speculation had begun, she knew, that a romance was budding, but if all went according to plan, there would be no more wondering. She intended to wind up his visit with a formal engagement party. The fact that she didn’t love him and never would gave no cause for concern, for she’d reached the conclusion that if she couldn’t have Raymond, she would just forget about love and concentrate instead on manipulating her adoptive father into leaving control of the plantation to her and not to Anjele. And it didn’t matter that a woman’s land and money were the property of her husband. Claudia planned to control Stephen, who would grovel at her feet in gratitude for such a beauteous wife, and of course he would have no qualms about leaving Atlanta to enjoy a life of luxury as her husband.

Secretly she was already grooming herself to take over after Twyla and Elton were dead. She pored through the journals and ledgers every chance she got. Once she understood the operations, competent overseers were all she’d need.

She figured on having two children, with luck boys, spaced two years apart. Having to do
that
with Stephen in order to make those babies was not something she looked forward to, but of course there would be handsome paramours at her beck and call for the real pleasures of the flesh. She knew about
that
,
too, having had a few secret trysts now and then.

It still galled, however, to think how she had to marry someone like Stephen to get what was rightfully hers. If Twyla and Elton Sinclair had really and truly thought of her as their daughter, which they should have everyone believe, then they would have kept their original covenant with Ida and Vinson Duval for their firstborn children of the opposite sex to marry each other.

“And here I am,” she said aloud to the scowling face in the mirror, “theoretically, their firstborn.”

But the truth was, Claudia angrily brooded, her so-called mother was nothing but a hypocrite. How she liked to boast of loving both her daughters so equally she could never remember which one was adopted. And no matter how Twyla privately bent over backwards to keep from showing favoritism to Anjele, Claudia didn’t care. She hated Anjele, because it wasn’t right for her to be the one to marry Raymond.

But what also concerned her was the possibility of Anjele having a baby right away, particularly a boy. Elton might decide to leave BelleClair in trust to his grandchild.

She couldn’t let that happen, and it was her fervid plan to beat Anjele to the cradle, confident that her baby, growing up at BelleClair, would naturally be closer to Twyla and Elton than one Anjele would be raising in New Orleans. And ultimately there would be no way they would do anything that would mean, upon their deaths, that she and Stephen and their offspring would be forced to move out.

Otherwise, she supposed, she’d wind up with nothing, so her only hope was to marry Stephen.

True, she’d thought of looking to the eligible young men in her social circle, but most of them were already set to inherit farms and plantations of their own. To marry one of them would require moving in with
their
families, and, no doubt, force her to be as subservient as their slaves. Besides, the few she had dallied with were so domineering they couldn’t bear the thought of a wife who’d dare stand on her own two feet and not take their every word as gospel. Accordingly, word had spread of her independence, and invisible weeds had quickly sprouted in the courting path to her doorstep.

Stephen Pardee had been the answer to her dilemma, but Claudia was frankly puzzled over his lack of enthusiasm. She’d let it be known in subtle ways that she was his for the taking, but obviously he was not used to being around girls and didn’t know how to react. At times she suspected he was actually avoiding her but credited that to shyness. Still, he came out of his shell whenever Anjele was around, and the two of them chatted and laughed like old friends—which was infuriating. Well, it was all going to change. After tonight, he’d be fluttering around her like butterflies on daisies.

With a pinch to her cheeks for rosiness, she hurried downstairs to where guests were already gathered on the terrace for yet another of her mother’s sumptuous buffets. Eating was Delilah Pardee’s favorite pastime, as evidenced by her huge size, and as long as food was around, she was happy.

Tables covered in white linen offered an array of spit-roasted turkey and crab-stuffed flounder and dozens of other delicacies. Claudia spotted Delilah, greedily sucking pralines. Asked if she’d seen Stephen, Delilah, mouth full, could only point to the lawn beyond.

Claudia hurried to find him, for it was the opportunity she’d been waiting for, to catch him alone in the moonlight, and—she stopped short.

He was in the moonlight, all right, but he wasn’t alone. He was grinning down at Anjele, happy as a child on Christmas morning.

Claudia stalked right over and made no pretense of hiding her jealousy. “Well,” she began in a furious huff as they both stared at her curiously, expectantly. “It’s a damn good thing Raymond will be back in another week, before you get desperate and start chasing after the bucks in the field.”

Anjele blanched and glanced quickly at Stephen to see his eyes bulging with disbelief.

Hands on her hips, Claudia snapped, “So what are you standing here for? You aren’t getting Stephen!”

If it hadn’t been for Stephen, Anjele would have already been in retreat. She had been even more careful to avoid arguments with Claudia since her mother’s threat to send her to live with the Duvals. But she could not allow this kind of humiliation. She met Claudia’s icy glare with one of her own. “Apologize, Claudia. You know you’re wrong to say such things.”

With a haughty toss of golden ringlets, Claudia laughed. “I’ll do no such thing. What other reason would you have for being out here in the dark with him, if you weren’t throwing yourself at him like a strumpet?”

Anjele resisted the impulse to slap her, grateful that Stephen suddenly came alive to intervene.

“You’ve gone too far, Claudia. You’ve no right to talk to Anjele that way. We weren’t doing anything wrong, but the fact that we’re out here together is none of your business, anyway.”

Claudia gasped. She hadn’t expected him to come to Anjele’s defense.

He held out his arm to Anjele and managed a reassuring smile as he led her back to the party.