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Authors: Gwynne Forster

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #African American, #Contemporary, #General

Once in a Lifetime (17 page)

BOOK: Once in a Lifetime
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She looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. “By all means. A man should be fortified at all times.” She patted his flat belly. “Not bad.”

Hot little needles shimmered through his veins. “Woman, are you flirting with me?”

She leaned against the doorjamb and examined her nails. “Who, me? Would I do such a thing?”

He grabbed her and locked her to his body. “You bet you would.”

She looked up at him, her eyes projecting the epitome of innocence, relaxed, offering neither defense nor apology.

“Aw, sweetheart, you get to me. Let’s move out of here and find something to eat, before we start something.”

The sound he heard was more a giggle than a laugh. “Not to worry. Our little chaperon is the perfect libido-suppressor.”

“Yeah. But don’t forget she’s my friend. If I tell her to go to sleep, she’ll do it.”

She tweaked his nose. “And if I promise her black-cherry ice cream, she’ll stay awake for hours waiting for it.”

“And if I get my hands on you,” he growled, “you’ll beg her to sleep.”

His woman walked back into her room, turned and winked at him. “Do what you have to do.”

The primate in him roared into action, and he had to stifle the urge to grab her and sink himself as deeply into her as he could get. He told himself to cool down. “Woman, you know precisely how to strip my gears. Meet you downstairs in five minutes.”

 

“I have to tell Miss Irene good-bye,” Tara said, as they were leaving the house.

He wanted to encourage the child’s good manners, so he took her hand and walked back to the service area, where he knew he’d find Irene.

“Bye, Miss Irene,” she said and turned to him. “Are we coming back?” Assured that they would, she smiled. “Tell me when you want to make cookies. Mr. Henry taught me how to make noels. Bye.”

“What a delightful child,” Irene said. “We’ll make some tomorrow afternoon, if that’s all right with your mother.”

“Okay,” Tara said. “Bye now.” She took his hand. “Come on. I’m hungry.” He didn’t laugh, but he couldn’t help thinking how feminine she was. She’d detained him, and now she protested that she was hungry. Lord, he loved her!

After lunch, they ambled to the tourist attractions where it was as if all the craftspeople in the region brought their wares for sale. He noticed Tara’s fascination with a little polar bear and asked her if she’d like to have it.

Though his question brought an expression of glee to her little face, she looked up at her mother for permission. It hit him then that he wanted that little girl for his own, wanted the right to guide her life. He waited for Alexis’s response.

“You must thank him, darling.”

Her squeals were all the thanks he needed, but she wrapped her arms around his knee. “Thanks, Mr. Telford.” He handed her the bear, and she looked up at him. “Now Biscuit will have someone to play with. I love you, Mr. Telford.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

They strolled along the shore drive beside the ocean, holding hands. He understood the contentment that enveloped him. They’d finished the school with weeks to spare and, he hoped, restored confidence in Harrington, Inc. And though he had vacationed in Cape May for each of the last seven years, he hadn’t previously experienced there the peace and inner joy that he felt now. Alexis and Tara gave his life a new meaning. Walking between them, he squeezed their fingers. When they reached the next bench, he sat down, put his arms around them, stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles and let the sun drench his face. Finally, after his struggles to get his brothers through school, finish his own education and rebuild the business that had cost his beloved father his life—though the memory of that girl from long-ago college days stayed with him—he knew what happiness was.

Chapter 9

A
fter dinner, with Tara asleep and the day spent, Alexis stood with Telford on the balcony off her room and looked out at the dark waters of the Atlantic Ocean. In the glow of moonlight, the waves danced ferociously as if at war with each other, and she said as much to Telford.

His arm slipped around her waist and tugged gently. “I was thinking that the waves were vying for the moon’s affection. What do you make of that?”

He’s here with me because he wants to be. Maybe I’ll be sorry, but I want to be alive. He’ll help me to achieve what I’ve missed. I know he’s different from Jack. I love him, and I’m going to trust him. Lord, please don’t let it sour. I’m going for it.

She leaned against him. “Anything personal in that statement? I mean, are you vying for anyone’s affection?” It was a leading question, and that was what she intended.

He put both hands on her waist and turned her to face him. “In a way, yes. But I’m after more than affection; I can get that
from Henry and my brothers. I’m after you. All of you. And I’m not going to resort to tricks to get what I want.”

Unprepared for that declaration, she gazed at him, tonguetied, but only momentarily. “Tricks? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean I’m not going to try seducing you into doing anything. You told me you needed me, and I haven’t kept my feelings for you a secret.”

“I’m a wounded bird, Telford.”

Holding her close and stroking her as though his hands would heal her, he whispered, “I know that, because you’ve told me in many ways. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she said, and buried her face against his chest.

With his index finger, he tipped her chin, urging her to look at his face. “I’m egalitarian. You know that. But when you lie in my arms, let me lead you.” His face softened, lights danced in his eyes and she could see that the thought fired up his emotions.

“When we get it perfect,” he went on, “you can have your way with me all you want. Trust me, I’ll be your willing victim.”

She’d think about the meaning of that later. Right now, she had to level with him. “I always felt used, be-because my interests were never considered.”

He sucked in his breath. “I halfway figured something like that. And there’s never been anyone else?”

Telling him about it wasn’t as painful as she’d thought it would be. She shook her head. “No one.”

“When you’re ready, you’ll come to me. Try to stop thinking about that phase of your life. Tara is a product of it, but she isn’t part of it. It’s over.”

“What makes you so sure I’ll come to you?”

“Because you have the courage to do anything you want to do. Don’t think I’m being noble; I am not. You’re very important to me. I want to show you a new world, and I want you to be sure you’re ready for it, because it will change our lives.”

He walked her to their connecting door. “We’d better say good night before I forget about my good intentions.”

His kiss on her cheek didn’t thrill her, but she hadn’t indicated she wanted more, and, indeed, from her perspective, the time wasn’t right. “I think I
do
understand. Good night.”
He’s leaving this up to me because he doesn’t want me to think he brought me here and is bearing all the expenses for the express purpose of getting me in bed.
As much as she wanted to kiss him, she didn’t think it prudent considering the conditions he’d just laid out, so she brushed the side of his face with her right hand, went into her room and closed the door.

 

However he looked at them, his days with Tara and Alexis could only be described as idyllic. They ate breakfast at the Bed and Board, roamed the tourist area and perused the numerous handicraft stalls, museums and gift shops until lunchtime. Then they rested, mostly for Tara’s sake, for an hour or two after lunch, after which they swam and frolicked in the ocean. He’d learned more about her in those six days than in the five months he’d known her.

“I can hardly imagine that three days from now I’ll attend the dedication of the Eagle Park High School,” he said, sitting with her on his balcony that evening. “It’s one of the most difficult jobs we’ve had, and definitely the one that put the most pressure on us.”

“I’m happy for all three of you. You can’t help being proud.”

“What I’m going to enjoy most is seeing Fentress Sparkman eat crow, and by damn, I’m going to wash his face with his lies. After screwing my father royally, he fed the rumor that Harrington, Incorporated, was undependable, that we overspent our bids, didn’t bring our buildings in on time and used substandard materials. The superintendent of buildings promised me he’d comment on each of those points.”

Her hand stroked his left forearm, but he didn’t pay too much attention. Indeed, he tried not to focus on it. She touched
him frequently the last couple of days, almost as if she had to have her hands on him. Whether she realized it or not, she was telling him something with her possessive little moves, and he’d be ready when she made good on her promises.

“Telford, honey, your hatred of Sparkman worries me. You’ve won the battle, restored your firm’s credibility and still you’re bitter. Honey, happiness and bitterness don’t go together.” She took both of his hands into her own, and her voice took on a pleading tone.

“You can’t love and hate at the same time. How can you be at peace and feel this way about another person?”

“It isn’t easy to love your enemy, especially one who attempted to rob you of your livelihood.”

“I know. But promise me you’ll try it my way. If he’s at that ceremony, seeing Harrington’s success will probably give him the toughest lesson he’s ever learned. You can afford to forget about him.”

“That isn’t so easy.”

“It will be if you concentrate on me.”

“I’ve spent the last six days trying to avoid that.”

“I would have thought you were smarter than that.”

“What did you expect me to do, break down your door and burst in there like a deer in the rutting season?”

She looked at him with sparkling eyes, and her shrug had an air of nonchalance. “Hmmm. I expect those deer get what they’re after.”

“Yeah. Every time.”

He’d never been slow to get a message, so he stood and took her hand. “Let’s check on Tara.”

 

They looked down on the sleeping child, and he spoke softly, yet his words were unmistakable. “I wish she were mine.” Her gasp let him know that she heard and understood him, but he looked at her steadily, unconcerned about the disclosure.

Her mind made up, she allowed herself a yawn. “I’m getting sleepy.”

He gazed at her, but she knew he couldn’t read her expres
sion, because she didn’t want him to. “I’ve got a bottle of Moët & Chandon cooling in my room.” He leaned against the wall, and his beautiful eyes sent her what could only be described as a challenge. “Interested?”

No tricks, huh?
“Maybe. Right now, I need a shower.”

A half smile rippled around his full bottom lip, and she knew he had her message. “Sure. Take all the time you need. See you later.”

She didn’t answer. As his slow, sexy gait took him through the connecting door to his room, she felt the first stirring of desire. She’d come prepared, and she didn’t doubt that he had, too. After finishing her ablutions, she dressed in the silk-satin rose gown that dipped to her hips in back, exposed her full bosom in a deep décolletage and barely topped her rose-colored silk mules—items she’d purchased in the hope of putting some spice in her marriage, but which she was never motivated to wear. She put big, silver hoops in her ears, let her hair down in a wild mass, put on the negligee that matched her gown, dabbed Fendi perfume in strategic places and headed toward the connecting door. Remembering past failures, she had a moment of uncertainty, but said a word of prayer and knocked.

 

He hadn’t misunderstood her; he was sure of that. If she’d wanted to go to bed alone, she’d have said good-night. He got the iced caviar, smoked-salmon sandwiches and pumpernickel squares out of his refrigerator and placed them on the little round bistro table in front of the picture window. After adding flatware, napkins and champagne glasses, he checked the espresso coffee urn and headed for the shower. He’d have to remember to give Irene a sizable tip; she’d provided just what he wanted.

What’s keeping her?
he wondered later, standing by the window in a white dress shirt, red tie and gray slacks. He’d dressed that way so that she wouldn’t think he’d tried to second-guess her. He dried his sweaty palms on the sides of his slacks and plowed his fingers through his silky curls. Finally,
when the tension became nearly unbearable, he opened the door and walked out on his balcony. But for the strong breeze whipping in from the ocean, he’d say the night was idyllic. Not one on which a man should be alone. He turned on the radio, didn’t like the program and flipped through the CDs Irene kept there.

He chose a Henry Mancini recording of instrumental love songs that included “I’m in the Mood for Love,” “Paradise,” “You Were Meant for Me,” Duke Ellington’s “Solitude” and similar titles, though none of them satisfied him. He realized he needed his violin. With that, he’d have no trouble communicating to her the mood in which he wanted to envelop her.

Where
was
she? Perhaps she really did mean “maybe.” He glanced at his watch and couldn’t help laughing at himself. Only thirty-two minutes had passed, and he was as strung up as if an hour had elapsed.
Get it together, man. You may be facing some heavy-duty work.
Not that that worried him. It wasn’t a task at which he’d ever failed. He looked at his watch again and laughed. Thirty-three minutes.

Gershwin’s “Love Walked In” filled the air, and almost simultaneously what sounded like a banging reached his ears.

“I never thought I was stupid,” he said aloud. “How the devil could I hear her from that balcony with the wind howling and the waves sloshing.” He dashed to the door and jerked it open.

“I thought you’d decided you made a mistake. Could you have been out on that balcony?”

His breath lodged in his throat, his blood flew through his veins and he was sure she could hear the wild, half-crazed beating of his heart. “I uh… Hell, I don’ know.
Good Lord!
” Beautiful. Sexy. One-hundred-percent woman. And she was his!

She looked down at her feet, displaying her vulnerableness. “Can I come in?”

He supposed he shook himself to try to get his senses back.
At least he thought he did. “Yeah. Woman, you poleaxed me. Come in here.”

She walked in slowly, and he wanted to hold her, to put her at ease, but he couldn’t risk spoiling what he planned for them, and that meant he wasn’t going to rush her.

“You’re so…so beautiful, so—”

“Thanks. You’re a sight for sore eyes yourself. Where’s the bubbly?”

She appeared in command, but he knew her now and didn’t miss the slight tremor of her voice.
She’ll brazen it out,
he said to himself,
but I’m not going to let her sweat.
He reached for her, held out his hand and when she moved to him, he began to dance.

“Do you know the name of this tune?” When she shook her head, he told her, “‘Love Walked In.’ Funny thing; it started playing when you knocked on the door.”

He danced until they reached the little bistro table. “Have a seat,” he said with a gesture toward one of the white, wrought-iron bistro chairs.

“Telford, this is wonderful. All of it—the champagne, food, this table, the picture window, the moon and the ocean. I’ll remember this for—”

He stopped pouring the champagne and interrupted her. “I want you to remember this night for as long as you live. I will.”

She lowered her gaze until he clicked their glasses, and she had to look at him as they drank together.

“You’ve nothing to fear. If anything happens between us tonight or any other time—and God knows I want that—you’ll have to give me the signal.”

After selecting a sandwich and eating it, she put some cream cheese and caviar on a slice of bread and ate that. Then she twirled the glass in her fingers, took a sip of champagne and set the goblet on the table.

“Telford, what kind of signal are you looking for? I don’t ordinarily entertain men or let them entertain me in this getup.”

“I hope the hell not. I can hardly stand to look at you.”

She took another sip and let a smile crawl slowly across her face. “Turn out the lights, and you won’t have to.”

He threw his head back and enjoyed the best laugh he’d had in weeks. After draining his glass, he put the remainder of the food in the refrigerator and stood beside her.

“This is the most important step of my life, Alexis. I know it took me a long time to recognize my true feelings, but you’re what I’ve needed all my life. If you don’t feel the same way about me, let’s drop it right here. I don’t want a sample. I want a commitment.”

 

In spite of his strength and power, she saw his vulnerableness for the first time. She didn’t know how to deal with it in this man, but she loved him, and she had to make him know it.

Cupping his face with her hands, she said, “I didn’t want to get involved with you or with any other man, because I didn’t want to suffer what I went through with my ex-husband. And I know you didn’t want to start anything with me. But I’ve known greater love since I’ve lived in your home than I thought I’d ever have.” His frown didn’t deter her. “And you. Love begets love.”

He grabbed her wrist. “Are you telling me you love me?”

“To the far reaches of my soul. Don’t you know it?”

“I hoped. I—”

She reached up to him with open arms and stilled his moving lips. His big hands gripped her body and pulled her to him. She didn’t care about the strength of his hold, only that he held her as though he’d never let her go.

“Love me,” she said. “Just…just love me. For once in my life, let me know what it is to be loved.”

He lifted her, and she could feel the shudders plowing through him as he bent to her lips and rocked her with the force of his kiss. Gone were his once soft caresses, genteel kisses, tender brushes of her cheek, controlled thrusts of his tongue. He gripped her hips and fitted her to him, held her and plunged into her when she parted her lips. Wild, like a
suddenly unfettered animal, his left hand roamed over her back and his tongue danced a lover’s rhythm in her mouth, letting her feel the way he intended to love her. Hot little needles shimmied through her veins and her blood churned on its dash to the seat of her passion. When she undulated against him, he freed her left breast, took its aureole into his mouth and suckled her, sending hot flames of passion roaring through her body. She held his head to increase the pressure, and he moved into her, stroking, rocking.

BOOK: Once in a Lifetime
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