All the Pretty Poses (6 page)

“Mr. Spencer, I assure you—”

“I don’t trust that you can assure me of
anything,
Mr. Bingham,”
my father snaps.

I look at Tanny’s pale face again and it
spurs me into action.

“Mr. Bingham, will that be all the need you
have of me or Mrs. Tannenbaum? If so, I think we’d both like to get
on with our plans for the day.” The least I can do is spare Tanny
any more of this unpleasantness. “Please forward copies of the will
to my attorney. You have his information already, I believe.”

When I glance back at Tanny, she’s watching
me with watery, grateful eyes. I smile at her and she gives me a
subtle, regal nod of acknowledgment.

“Yes, I do. And yes, this is the only part
that pertains to either of you. It’s my understanding that Malcolm
has already given to Mrs. Tannenbaum any of his possessions that he
wanted her to have. Is that accurate, Mrs. Tannenbaum?”

“Yes, it is,” comes her quiet reply.

No one in the room argues. Whatever Malcolm
saw fit to give Tanny is still probably less than she deserves for
staying with him all these years. Even my cold, hard father knows
that.

“In that case, I think we’ll be on our way.”
I stand and walk to Tanny’s chair, pulling it back as she comes to
her feet. “Gentleman.” I give the room a glancing nod and then I
escort Tanny out the door.

Once we’ve left the study and all the tension
there behind us, I turn to Tanny. “Do you know who this Mary
Elizabeth is? Did Malcolm ever mention her?”

Tanny raises her face to mine and I notice
how ashen she is. “Harrison, would you mind if I went to lie down?
I believe I might have a migraine coming on. Just the stress of the
last few days…”

She lays a shaking hand on my arm and starts
to walk off, even before I can reply. Bending, I sweep her into my
arms. “I’ll carry you,” I tell her simply, walking the short
distance down the hall to her room at the back of the house,
nearest Malcolm’s.

It looks just like it did when I was last
here all those years ago. Antique furnishings covered in faded
rose-and-cream colored fabrics, a fresh flower arrangement sitting
on the dresser and a book lying on the night table right beside her
reading glasses. Everything in this room is elegant, womanly and
one hundred percent Tanny.

Gently, I deposit her on the bed and then
move to the windows behind it, drawing the blinds shut. Before I
leave, I bend to kiss Tanny’s cool cheek.

“Rest. You have my number if you need
anything. I’ll come and stay for a few weeks when I get back into
the country. But if something happens and you need me before then,
call. Okay?”

She nods.

“Promise me.”

Her smile is small. “I promise.”

“I’ll get all this straightened out. Don’t
worry over it.”

Her smile deepens. “I won’t worry. You go on.
Have a good time with Kennedy.”

“So she
is
coming?” I feel relieved.
Tanny was a bit vague earlier.

“Yes, I believe she’s coming.”

“I’ll take good care of her, Tanny.”

She reaches up to pinch my chin. “You’d
better, young man.”

I laugh. “God forbid I suffer the wrath of
Tanny.”

“Just so long as you know,” she says with a
grin before she waves me out the door. “Now, you go on. Have a safe
trip. And have fun.”

I don’t tell her how much fun I plan to have.
I only smile as I pull the door shut behind me.

CHAPTER TEN- Kennedy

I shouldn’t have waited until the last minute
to pack. I guess I was hoping for a sign that I’m doing the right
thing. But I didn’t get one, so I’ve been left to muddle through
the decision-making process the best that I can. In the end, I go
with my gut. All my other gauges lie in direct contradiction to one
another. My head says I’m strong and I can do this. My heart says
I’m crazy to risk being around Reese again. Those two still haven’t
reached an agreement, so that’s why I had to consult another
faculty—my gut. And it says that I can do this, that I need to go
for the dream. This could be my only chance to chase it with any
hope of catching it.

But my gut can’t tell me what to pack. I
mean, Reese has told me virtually nothing about this cruise. I
throw a variety of clothes into my suitcase, along with my
toiletries and a couple of swimsuits just in case. I stand staring
at it for at least five minutes as I rack my brain for other things
I might need. Giving up when I can think of nothing but the way it
felt to have Reese touch my face again, I decide it might be
prudent to just
ask
. But rather than calling, I take the
coward’s way out and I text Reese instead.

Me: What do I need to pack? I don’t know
where we’re going or what I’ll need, work-wise.

As I’m waiting for his response, Bozey, my
calico-colored Maine Coon cat, weaves a warm figure eight around my
legs as if to remind me not to forget about making arrangements for
him. I reach down to scoop him up and he drapes bonelessly over my
arm.

“I could never forget about you, Bozey.” I
nuzzle his nose with mine. He twitches his ears, letting me know
that I’m pushing the personal space boundaries, but otherwise he
tolerates it pretty well. He’s a very good cat and I already feel
guilty about leaving him. “Clive will take good care of you,” I
tell him, referring to my elderly neighbor who loves Bozey almost
as much as I do. Bozey loves him, too.

I give Bozey an extra nuzzle for good measure
just as the bleep of my phone alerts me to an incoming text. It’s
Reese. His response is not terribly surprising.

For a man.

A
ladies’
man.

Reese: As far as I’m concerned you don’t
have to pack any clothes. Consider clothing optional any time
you’re in my company.

I can easily picture his gorgeous grin and
the devilish light in his aqua eyes, and some small part of me
melts a little. Just a little.

I steel myself against it, against
him
. As I will continue to do for the next several weeks
until I can put Reese behind me. Again. Maybe for good this
time.

Me: Warm weather? Cold weather? Do I need to
bring clothes to dance in? And will you have uniforms for the
service staff?

I’m trying to keep it professional, whether
that’s the way he wants it or not. Tough shit.

Reese: Warm weather. Bring what you want to
wear. Your work clothing is taken care of.

In my head, my response is brusque, yet
professional.

Me: That’s what I wanted to know. Thank
you.

Even when his is not.

Reese: Of course. I’m happy to answer all
your questions and take care of ALL your needs.

I debate for a moment whether I should
respond, but then I do, unable to resist another opportunity to set
him straight on where this is and is
not
going.

Me: You won’t be getting anywhere near my
needs.

When I read his reply, I can almost
hear
the sexy dripping from his tone.

Reese: Then I suppose I’ll just have to
bring your needs to me.

Ignoring the little chill that spreads down
my arms, I decide the prudent thing, at this point, would be to
quit while I’m ahead.
Telling
Reese is obviously not enough.
I’ll have to trust that
showing
him will be.

CHAPTER ELEVEN- Reese

As I walk to the door of unit seven in the
small, brick townhouse complex, I notice the curtain flutter in the
window of the adjacent unit. When I glance to my right, I see an
older man’s face staring back at me from one corner of the glass. I
nod politely. He nods in return. He watches me until I reach the
stoop in front of Kennedy’s door, a step that effectively removes
me from his line of sight.

Another man bewitched by Kennedy
, I
think with a wry smile. She’s probably got more than her fair share
of admirers. And I can’t blame a single one of them.

I knock on the door and step back to lean
against one of the thick white columns that holds up her porch. I
hear some bumping and thumping before the door flies open to reveal
an out-of-breath Kennedy.

“I thought you were sending a car or
something?” she pants, blowing a few strands of silky hair out of
one eye.

I turn to look back at my sleek black car
parked in one of the two spots directly in front of her unit. “Last
time I checked, that’s what I arrived in.”

“But I thought…I mean, it sounded like… Oh,
never mind,” she stammers, waving a hand dismissively as she
reaches just inside the door for an enormous suitcase. With a
grunt, she hefts it over the threshold and lets it drop like a
cement block onto the stoop. “I’m almost ready. Hang on.”

With that, she disappears inside again. The
door is still open, so I can see her as she darts around her living
room, straightening the pillows on the olive green couch and
picking up a speck of something from the red rug beneath it. She
stops and looks around, likely going over some kind of mental
checklist. When she’s satisfied, she tosses whatever was in her
hand into the trash can, bends to scratch her cat behind his ears
and tells him he’s a good boy, and that she’ll miss him.

I can’t help but notice the way her jeans
show off her long, slender legs and cup her round ass to
perfection. I know what that ass looks like. The glimpse I got of
it the night she danced is permanently etched onto my brain.

I feel a groan build somewhere deep in my
gut.

When she comes toward the door, I don’t move.
I stay leaning against the column as she locks the knob and the
deadbolt, jiggles the handle and then backs up to wave at her
neighbor, the guy I saw peeking through the curtains.

Finally she turns back to face me.
“Ready?”

Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are bright
and there’s a breathless quality to her voice that’s making it very
hard for me to keep my hands off her.

“Oh, I’m very ready,” I tell her as I
straighten, reaching out to remove a strand of hair that has
strayed into her lip gloss. “The question is: Are you?”

She watches me intently. She knows exactly
what I’m asking. I can tell by the way she finally tips up her chin
and meets my eyes so boldly. She surprises me by laughing. “Trust
me, you don’t need to be worrying about
me
.”

Her bravado is belied only by the dilation of
her pupils and the slight tremor to her lips. She wants to think
she has it all under control, that resisting me will be a piece of
cake. But, deep down, she knows there’s something between us. And
that it’s inevitable.

Making her admit it is going to be the fun
part.

CHAPTER TWELVE- Kennedy

I watch Reese discreetly from the corner of
my eye as he guides his powerful, expensive car back to the
highway. So many things are exactly as I remember them. The shade
of his eyes. The unruly wave to his hair when it gets too long. The
shape of his lips and the way he purses them when he’s
concentrating.

But, on the other hand, so many things have
changed. He’s older, harder, more worldly. He’s a stranger to me
now. But still, there’s something about him… Even
I
can feel
it. Something that tugs at me constantly.

Reese is still the handsomest man I’ve ever
seen. Dark, slightly wavy hair, piercing aqua eyes, long lashes.
His skin is smooth and tan, his nose straight, his cheekbones high.
His mouth is a perfectly-sculpted bow in the center of his square
jaw. God, he’s beautiful. Wealthy. Powerful. Charming. He was
irresistible as a young adult, but now…women don’t stand a chance.
The only reason I do is because we have history. Bad history. My
scars keep my focus where it needs to be.

Mostly.

His big hands rest on the steering wheel with
confident ease. I look away from them because they remind me of
things I’d rather not think about. Things that make my stomach feel
tight and achy.

When he reaches cruising speed on the
highway, he glances over at me, grinning slightly when he finds me
watching him.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he says
softly.

“I was just thinking how much you’ve
changed.”

“In fourteen years?” he laughs. “Yeah, I’ve
changed. But so have you.”

To this, I just nod, turning to look out my
window.

When I don’t move to continue the
conversation, Reese does. “How have you been, Kennedy? Fill me in
on your life for the last decade and a half.”

There is so much to say, yet nothing at all.
He missed it. Every bit of it. When he left. Therefore he has no
right to it. Not even to my memories of it.

“Not much to tell. I became a dancer. At one
of your clubs.”

He is unflappable. “How did you know you
wanted to dance?”

“I’ve always wanted to dance.”

“You never told me.”

“There were a lot of things I never told you,
Reese.”

“So tell me now.”

“Why? What’s the point?” I turn to look at
him. My voice is angry, which frustrates me. I don’t want him to
know he got a rise out of me. “I mean, we don’t need to do this.
I’ll be working for you. Everything you need to know about me is in
an employee file somewhere.”

“Nothing that I want to know about you is in
an employee file.”

“Then maybe you need to keep better
records.”

Much to my dismay, Reese laughs, sending a
little shiver of recognition down my spine. That sound…I always
loved that rich, deep sound.

“That’s great advice. I think I’ll start now.
So, how did you end up at my club?”

I sigh. Obviously this is not something he’s
going to let go of easily. “I met a girl who dances there. She told
me what it was like, that no one takes their clothes off. At least
not many of them, and that we can be creative with our routines as
long as they’re sexy. I liked the idea of being able to dance the
way I want to, to wear what I feel comfortable in. So, she put in a
good word with the manager, he let me audition and hired me on the
spot. End of story.”