Pillow Talk (15 page)

"That many?"

He shook his head in an attempt to clear the image of her naked before the fire. "Left alone to run a company, I do fairly well, but I do have trouble with women and children." He kept his tone light.

"You're afraid you'll screw up the kids and—" She stopped, blushing.

He put his arm back around her shoulders and pulled her to him. "And I have a way of falling for women I shouldn't."

He kissed her again. This time there was nothing tentative or fleeting about the meeting of their mouths.

He drew her lips in to taste them. He parted them to mark her. He plunged his tongue in to claim her.

And she answered him, taste for greedy taste.

Her breasts pushed against his chest and even through her heavy robe he felt the rounded weight of her flesh and the eager invitation in the way her hand curled around the back of his neck.

With a hungry groan, he reached without seeing for the glass she held. Without letting go of her mouth, he swayed their bodies to the edge of the loveseat, abandoned the crystal to the low table and moved them as one till she lay beneath him on the loveseat.

If he didn't taste more of her, he'd explode. He parted the lapels of her robe. To his surprise, she wore a ratty t-shirt under the elegant robe. But it suited her so much better than the silk camisole she'd been modeling when he'd burst in on her at the Hotel Maurepas.

Parker ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him he shouldn't be reaching for the sash. But she wasn't pushing him away.

Instead, now both hands were lifted to the back of his head. She drew him downward into another kiss that consumed the rest of what little caution remained to rule his actions.

Meg tangled her fingers in Parker's hair. She should have taken her hot milk straight back upstairs and avoided this man because now she wanted more than a few kisses on the couch. Which meant, of course, she ought to sit up, cup her hands primly back around the bowl of her brandy snifter, and quit kissing him back.

Surely he'd come to his senses soon, she thought even as he pulled back slightly and tugged at the knot in her sash. His breath was
coming quickly. The firelight softened the lines of his face. As he worked on the knot, she moved one hand from the back of his head and traced the line of his nose.

He smiled at her, and said, "I broke it when I was a child."

"It's beautiful," Meg said. "I hope it didn't hurt too much."

Parker's smile faded and he let go of her sash. "Jules hurt worse."

Meg dropped her hands, reminded of how outrageous her behavior was. Parker gazed down at her, obviously unwilling to let her go, but struggling with himself.

If she'd loved Jules of course she wouldn't be on the couch with Parker. Meg opened her mouth to speak, then slowly thought better of it. If she told him the truth, he'd be off the loveseat faster than a flea jumping onto a dog.

"We shouldn't be here," Parker said, still not moving.

"No." Meg touched her lips with the tip of her tongue, wondering how she'd gotten herself into such an awkward situation. Here was a man she genuinely wanted. And couldn't have.

"Do that again and I'll forget myself," Parker said in a low voice that sounded a lot like a growl to Meg.

So she did.

He pounced on her. Her body pinned beneath his, he said into her ear, "So help me
God, I can't stop myself. I need you tonight."

She nodded her head, the long day's growth of beard chafing her ever so slightly as she moved against the side of his face.

He kissed her lips, her eyes, her throat, and she felt the urgent desire of his body as he pressed against her on the couch. Would it be so wrong to give herself to a man who wanted her? Who needed her, if only for one night?

Suddenly he lifted his body from hers and Meg almost cried out in loss as he strode across the room. But he paused only to shut the doors to the library and turn the key in the lock.

Standing above the loveseat, he looked down at her, hunger in his eyes.

Watching him, Meg shrugged out of her robe. Her UNLV t-shirt skimmed her thighs.

Parker reached over and trailed a hand up her calf, alongside her knee and a slow inch at
a
time up her inner thigh.

Meg caught her breath.

Park
er knelt beside the loveseat. "I
should wait, you know, but I'm not going to unless you tell me to."

"Wait?"

"Until a proper time has passed. Until after the company affairs and Jules's estate are settled. Until after you've had a chance to grieve and come to yo
ur senses and save yourself
a mistake."

"No mistake," Meg said.

Parker didn't smile.

Meg stifled a sigh, realizing Parker was right, for more reasons than he knew. "When will those things be settled? After the company
vote?"

He'd lifted his hand back to her thigh. He stilled it and said, "Company vote?"

Meg could have bitten her tongue in half. "Oh, you know, t
he one that was supposed to
be this week."

His eyes narrowed and he lifted his hand from her leg. "You know about that?"

She nodded.

"What did Jules tell you?"

How much should she say? He told me you were a hard-headed obstinate son of a bitch bastard who refused to accept the best buy out offer in the history of corporate acquisitions and he'd do whatever it took to consummate that offer. "Something about a merger?"

Parker leaned back on his heels, still on the floor beside her but no longer touching her body, no longer looking at all like the same man who'd been kissing her senseless. He murmured, almost to himself, "All business, aren't you, Meg? Everything else is just pretend."

She shook her head but he was beyond paying attention to any protest.

Two lines had formed on his forehead between his eyes. "It seems odd to me that my brother told you about a proposed merger when he failed to mention, among other details, that he was the father of a ten-year-old or
t
hat he'd been married twice before."

"Really?" Jeez, but she'd blown it. Meg sat up and reached for the arms of her robe.

"You know what I think?" Parker rose and looked down at Meg from his full height.

"What?" She knew her voice sounded very, very tiny.

"I think my first suspicions about you were damned well founded. I think you and my brother were in cahoots and I intend to figure out just exactly what game the two of you were playing." He strode to the fireplace, his jaw working.

Facing the fire, he said, "Whatever it is, I'll
ca
tch you at it and put an end to it. And that will be that. But you know what I won't forgive you for?"

Meg held her breath, cursing herself, knowing what he woul
d say, feeling the pain of it i
n her own heart.

Parker swung back to face her, his eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and desire. "You made me like you."

He bent and gripped her by the shoulders. "I ought to take you now just to punish you, to punish myself, to get you out of my system."

She stared, wondering wildly if he'd really do that, even
as she sensed he would never t
ouch her out of anger. She couldn't say anything to proclaim
her innocence. She had none. Sic
k with regret, she whispered, "Parker, I'm so sorry."

He crushed her against him, bruising her mouth with his. She cried out as he devoured her with his tongue. Panting, wanting, hating herself for her deception, Meg struggled against him. This was not a kiss; this was a punishment.

He let go. She fell back against the loveseat. Staring down at her, he said, "Sorry won't do. Save your excuses for the lawyers."

Fourteen

V
ery early the next morning, Meg huddled in her
room, waiting until
it was time to leave for the a
irport. Over and over she replayed last night's encounter with Parke
r. Each time, her thoughts fol
lowed one of two forks.

Her fantasies wondered what would have happened had she not mentioned the buyout vote. And her fears crystallized around what he could and would do to her if he discovered the truth of her marriage.

She'd have to give back the ten thousand dollars but that was probably the right thing to do anyway. But could he have her sent to jail?

She chewed on the tip of her thumb. No matter what, he'd never forgive her. She'd never know the touch of his lips, the urgent demands of his hard male body pressing against hers.

Meg sighed and got up from the bed and
pa
ced to the window and back. She'd told
Grand
father Po
nthier she had to go home and c
heck on her children the day after the funeral.

What she hadn't told him was that she had no plans to return. Feeling a need to clear her conscience as much as possible, she decided to slip downstairs and let him know this. As the patriarch, he could break the news to the rest of the clan that Jules's widow had declined to join the family. Legal matters they could handle by FedEx.

A loud knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She smoothed her hands on the lap of the dark blue dress she'd worn on the flight from Vegas to New Orleans with Jules. Everything he and Teensy had purchased for her she'd left hanging in the closet.

The knock sounded again, much louder. "Yes?" A day ago she would have called come in. Today she held back. "Who is it?" Silly question; she knew who it was. Even his knock sounded angry and authoritative.

"Parker."

"Can you come back later?" Like maybe after I'm gone. She despised herself for chickening out, but she was afraid to face him.

Silence answered her.

She held her breath. Maybe he had gone away. Disappointment welled even as she strained for the sound of receding footsteps.

"It's about Gus."

She left the bed and moved to the door. She cracked it open.

He hadn't shaved and his eyes looked the way hers felt at the end of a long shift in the
smoky lobby b
ar of the Pinnacle Casino. The s
ame two buttons of last night's shirt were still unfastened.

Without lo
oking directly at her, Parker a
sked, "Have you seen Gus this morning?"

She shook her head, unwilling to trust her longue.

He jammed his hands in his pockets. "Any idea where he might be?"

"He's not in his room and no one else has seen him?'

Parker shook his head.

Meg wasn't inclined to become alarmed. Ponthier Place had so many rooms, so many places a ch
ild could lose himself in make-
believe. Why, he
r three kids would have built a
fortress in the library and turned the Great Parlor into a schoolroom or theater. "When did you check?"

"An hour ago." He glanced across the hall then back. "I was going to take him fishing. If he wanted to go."

This from the man who assumed he'd screw up the next generation. "That was sweet," Meg said.

His shoulders stiffened. "I wouldn't have bothered you but if he's not with you I think he may have run away. Or worse."

She opened the door so they stood fully facing one another. "Why do you think that?"

Parker beckoned with his finger. "Take a look and tell me what you think."

Meg followed him across the broad hall. Parker pushed open the door and stood back for Meg to precede him.

She knew at a
glance Parker was right. That
was no child under those blankets. A pile of pillows had been stuffed under the covers of the bed.

Parker yanked back the covers and that's exactly what lay beneath them.

She eased into the room. The hiking boots from WalMart no longer sat beside the bed.

Meg knocked softly on the closet where Gus had tucked himself away his first night out of school. No answer. She looked in. The package that had held his prized pocketknife sat empty on the floor.

Sorrow gripped Meg, a sadness tinged with fear for Gus's safety. For all his bravado, he was only ten. Teddy and Ellen's age. She scooped up the empty box and held it out to Parker.

"Don't touch anything," he said.

"Parker, you don't think someone's taken him!"

His mouth a grim line, Parker said, "With Jules dead, Gus is one hell of a rich kid."

Meg opened her mouth to state what she thought was an obvious point. Until she turned any inheritance back to the family, which she knew in her heart she would do, Gus wasn't the sole heir to Jules's wealth. Not unless she was really confused over the law.

And not unless Parker knew something she didn't know.

Wiser after last night's fiasco, she kept those thoughts to herself. "Perhaps he's gone outside to play. That woul
d explain the shoes, clothing, a
nd knife being gone."

He nodded. "Sensible, but I've already walked the grounds."

Meg felt her calm beginning to wilt at the edges as her concern mounted. She closed her eyes and tri
ed to remember what Teddy and E
llen had done the day after Ted's funeral, trying to use that be
havior as a clue towards what G
us might be doing.

Teddy had gone to the garage and spent three hours cleaning his father's golf clubs. Meg had checked on him every so often and seen him crying a few times. It broke her heart, but she left him
alone with his grief. When he f
inished, he came inside and buried his head in her lap. His dad had promised to teach him
to
play golf as soon as he was twelve, a promise that could never be fulfilled.

Meg had stroked his hair and vowed to herself that if he wanted them, she'd get him golf lessons, no matter the cost.

Meg pressed her fingers against her eyes, the memory of her son's grief too raw to bear. Slowly she opened her eyes, to find Parker looking at her, his expression a mix of curiosity, concern, and impatience.

"Let me think," she said.

Ellen had handled her grief very differently from Teddy. She'd blamed her dad for leaving them, even though Meg had tried her best to explain that an aneurysm wasn't something one got because of bad diet or poor health habits.

Anger and fury had fueled her daughter's reactions, emotions that had eased themselves from Ellen's system over the past year until at last she'd become more accepting of her loss. But as the bills had mounted and Meg and the kids had been forced to sell the only house Ellen had called home, her anger had kindled anew.

Meg suspected Gus had more in common with Ellen than with Teddy.

"Was there any place special Jules used to take Gus?" Meg asked.

Parker shook his head. "Nothing that comes right to mind. I wasn't around them much when they were together."

"Did they go fishing?"

"Gus always wanted to, but that was just one more thing Jules didn't do with him."

Feeling braver despite Parker's aloofness, she said softly, "That's why you were going to take him fishing today, isn't it?"

"Be that as it may, this isn't getting us anywhere."

Ooh, he wasn't defrosting at all. Meg said, "It might be. Gus may have taken off to someplace special, someplace he associated with his father.”

”You may be right, but I'm going to call in the police just in case.”

The police! Meg licked her lips. Parker probably wanted to turn her over for impersonating a Ponthier. She glanced around the room, seeking more clues. A corner of a book stuck out from beneath the bed. She retrieved it and read out loud,
"Huckleberry Finn."

Parker had headed out of Gus's room but when he heard the title he turned back. "He might have gone to the river."

"The Mississippi?"

"That's the only one around here."

He sounded vaguely sarcastic but Meg decided to ignore that. "How would he get there?"

"Easily on the streetcar." A dark look crossed Parker's face. "Are you coming or staying?"

He was walking down the hall as he asked the question, not even waiting for her answer. Meg wheeled after him, thankful her dress shoes had such sensible heels.

Grandfather Ponthier was parked in the hallway near the door. "What's up with you two?"

Parker said, "We think Gus may have gone to the river."

"The river's a big stretch. You have any idea where?"

Parker stopped. He studied his hands then
glanced back at his grandfather. "I was going to check the levee off Carrollton and St. Charles."

"Where Horton used to take you fishing?"

Parker nodded.

Meg couldn't help but wonder at that. She'd expected to hear "Where your father used to take you?"

"And you figure that makes sense?"

Meg started as she realized Grandfather had barked the question at her. She nodded.

"I'm going after the car," Parker said. "I'll pull up in the drive in two minutes."

Meg nodded.

Grandfather said, "Weren't you due at the airport in about an hour?"

In her concern over Gus, she'd actually forgotten. She gasped. "I can't go now! But I'll lose my ticket."

"Tell you what," Grandfather said, "you run along and look for Gus and I'll call your little ones and let them know you've been delayed."

The horn honked.

Meg hesitate
d. She should call Mrs. Fennis
ton, but there wasn't time. She thought of Teddy or Ellen or Samantha running off alone to a dangerous river full of what had to be nasty and powerful currents.

"
J
ust leave it to me," Grandfather said. "I'll call 'em up and set things right."

The horn honked again and Meg ran to the door. "But you don't have the phone number."

He smiled. "Just tell me their babysitter's name. There's more than one way to leap a frog."

Meg called out Mrs. Fenniston's name and number, then raced out the door. She hoped the crusty old p
atriarch didn't scare Mrs. Fen
niston silly.

But then, one of the things she respected about Mrs. Fenniston was that nothing, but nothing, ever seemed to ruffle her.

Parker gunned the engine of his Porsche, roaring down the drive before Meg was barely settled in the seat beside him. He hated having her there beside him, yet he was damn grateful for her presence.

What if they were wrong and Gus hadn't ambled off to the river? What if he had been lured from the house in some bizarre child snatching? The house had a security alarm, but Parker knew it hadn't been set last night.

An oversight that was completely his fault. He'd been so upset with Meg, so supremely furious with
the scheming woman for sucker
ing him into believing she was some innocent, and even more upset with himself for forgetting his own code of honor and making a play for his dead brother's widow, that he'd been the one who hadn't set the alarm.

He'd been out on the porch for hours after Meg had fled the library, wrestling with his feelings about her, wondering how in the hell he could go from wanting her with every fibe
r
of his being to believing in his gut that she'd married his brother under very suspicious circumstances.

He wished she'd said nothing. He wished she'd kissed him and opened her arms and her body to him and said not a word about Jules and about business machinations she should have had absolutely no knowledge of. That thought reminded him that he needed to get a copy of her prenuptial agreement from her.

His lawyers would be wanting to take a look at it.

Jules always used the same one. Having been married twice before, Jules insisted his prospective spouse sign a prenuptial agreement he'd drafted himself. The tradition itself was a longstanding one; any Ponthier male asked his wife-to-be to sign a contract ensuring that the shares of Ponthier family stock bestowed upon marriage reverted to the company upon death or divorce.

Parker wanted Meg's copy of that agreement. He didn't want to do any business with her. The sooner she was out of his life the better off he would be.

Glancing over at her, sitting so silent in the low seat beside him, he wondered whether he knew what was best for either of them. He wondered whether Jules had married her just to double his voting shares in order to sell out the company to the international consortium that had been courting the Ponthier holdings
of sugar, commercial real estate, and hotels.

If he had, then Jules would have won the battle if he hadn't gotten himself killed. Married, he could
outvote Parker. Dead and with t
he standard prenuptial agreement in place, the shares reverted to the company, to be settled on Gus, but not until he was of legal age.