Finding Forever (7 page)

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Authors: Melody Anne

BOOK: Finding Forever
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Chapter Thirteen

I
forgot to tell
you about the fundraiser that will be held here at the end of the week,” Frederick announced at the midday meal. “Of course it’s formal, with all that implies, and there will be music and entertainment.”

“What’s a fundraiser?” Ally asked.

“It’s something that raises money for those who aren’t as fortunate as you are, darling,” Whitney told her niece. “Or for good causes of other sorts.”

“Yes, and sometimes for politicians, but that’s another matter entirely,” Frederick joked. “And if you go to the right fundraisers, they’re also a lot of fun,” Frederick told her. “You get to dance and dress up in a very pretty gown.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun! Are you going to dress up too, Auntie?”

Whitney was at a loss for words. She had nothing to wear to such a fancy event, and even if she had, she wouldn’t know what to do there. The biggest fundraiser she’d been to so far in her life was a school carnival where she accepted tickets at a game for children.

The school had raised about $20,000 that night, and it had seemed amazing at the time. But she somehow doubted that the event Frederick was speaking of would net less than seven figures. And she’d most likely trip on her own two feet as she entered the room. No. It was lucky that someone as lowly as she was on the social totem pole would never be invited.

“Of course your aunt will go.” Liam had interrupted, and what he’d said made Ally smile broadly.

Whitney wasn’t smiling; in fact, she sent him a menacing look. If she and Liam found themselves alone again, she’d certainly give him a piece of her mind. He needed to learn he couldn’t speak for her. The whole situation was absurd.
Quite
absurd. She’d tell him that in her best imitation of a cultured accent.

“Dancing and fancy clothes don’t sound all that fun,” Brayden said with a sneer, though Whitney could see that he was intrigued. Appearing too interested in anything wasn’t what
cool
boys did.

“You will have a wonderful time, Brayden, if you allow yourself to,” Frederick told him. Brayden looked at him skeptically, but his grandfather went on. “Just give it a try. If you hate it, you can ‘sneak’ away early.”

That seemed to do the trick. Brayden’s frown disappeared.

“You both should get back to your school lessons for the day, though. Since the fundraiser is coming up, we’ve added dance to your lessons,” Liam told them.

Brayden groaned, and Ally squealed with delight.

“I don’t need any extra lessons. I think we do more schoolwork here than we do at our actual school,” Brayden said with a pitiful sigh.

“That’s an evident exaggeration,” Liam told him with a semblance of a smile. “Besides, don’t you think it’s always wise to introduce yourself to new pursuits, ones that your father and I engaged in when we were your age?”

“Pursuits? What do you mean by that?” Brayden asked, suspicion clear in his tone.

“Do I get to do them too?” Ally asked, not caring what the word
pursuit
meant — just making sure she was doing anything that her brother was doing.

“Of course you do, Ally. And, Brayden, you’ll enjoy the new activities,” Liam said. And then his lips twitched.

“The look on your face doesn’t exactly give me confidence, Uncle Liam.” Brayden turned toward Whitney with a look of panic.

She wanted to rescue him, but she had to be practical. She couldn’t interfere in the small stuff, because then she would only seem petty. Besides, she happened to agree that dance was a good thing to learn. Brayden would appreciate it later in life, when the girls all wanted to dance with him. Granted, he wouldn’t want that for a few years, maybe four or five, but it would happen all too soon.

“Brayden, you’ll go to your piano lesson before dance, so you get some time to brood about it,” Frederick said with obvious amusement. “Ally, you’re up for dance right after lunch.”

“We still get to do the sword fighting, right?” Brayden asked.

“Yes, you will still study
fencing
,” Liam replied.

“I’m finished eating now,” Ally said, excited to start the new lessons. The young girl was always up for trying new things.

She was so much like her mother, Whitney thought, and the longing in her heart to see her Maxine again made it hurt terribly.

“But we’re only here about another week or two, Liam,” Whitney reminded him. “Should you really start new lessons of that sort when they’ll not get to follow through on them?”

The room went quiet as all heads turned her way.

“Things change, Whitney. Maybe you’ll decide to extend your vacation,” he told her.

“We can’t do that. We told the school they’d be back after their Christmas break. They already missed two weeks of classes for this trip.”

“And they are getting their lessons while here. Plus,” he added, “there are excellent schools here.” He sent her a look she couldn’t quite interpret, but most certainly frightened her. Her main fear was coming to life — the fear that the children would be taken away from her.

Instead of facing that problem head on right now, she decided to agree with Frederick and Liam.

“I don’t see a problem with having the children do more lessons. They might discover a new hobby that they can pursue when we get back home.” But she did shoot a warning look Liam’s way when she said this.

“Good. Now that it’s that settled, we have a very busy day ahead of us. Let’s get started.” Liam rose from the table and walked out of the room.

“Let me show you to the ballroom,” Darcy said, and Whitney gave her maid a grateful smile. She would enjoy watching her beautiful little girl swirl around on the dance floor.

She hadn’t seen the ballroom before, and when they went in, she couldn’t help but feel the delight that flowed through her. The room was large enough to hold at least a thousand people in it — okay, maybe that was a gross exaggeration — and the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling were so sparkly that she wondered if diamonds were mixed in with the crystals. It was a room she would love to dance around, but instead she sat in a chair off to one corner. She was trying her best to be a quiet observer, but as Ally went on in the lesson, her aunt had to struggle not to clap with pride at how quickly her talented niece picked up on what the dancing master was teaching her.

Whitney wanted to learn the dance herself, so she finally rose and began imitating the steps she saw. Though she lacked a partner, she felt that she wasn’t doing too badly.

“May I cut in?” Liam asked.

She blushed instantly. She’d been caught, darn it all.

“I don’t want to take you away from whatever you were doing before,” Whitney told him. Touching him again would most certainly prove harmful to her health.

“There’s nothing I would rather do right now than dance with you.”

And she found herself accepting the hand he was holding out. “I guess I could use some help.”

“I consider dancing an important art. It teaches many valuable lessons for journeys you will take throughout your life.”

She knew there was a double meaning there, but she didn’t know how to address it, so she tried to make a joke instead. “I’m going to warn you that I’ve never danced in such a formal fashion before, and I can’t be responsible for your toes.”

“I appreciate the warning, Whitney, but I have the feeling you’ll do just fine. Now put this hand on my shoulder and use your other one to take my hand like this.”

The usual tremors racked her body. She tried to ignore them — unsuccessfully.

“I’m really not a musical kind of person.”

“Upbringing plays a big part in that, I believe. I took lessons in playing several instruments. My favorite was probably the violin.”

“You play the violin?” she asked, and her resistance to him faded a bit more as he swept her across the floor, his eyes focused on her, his body making light contact with hers.

“I’m hardly an expert, but … yes,” he said with a slight growl as he pulled her tightly against him for just a moment before pushing back and turning her in a slow spin. “Now focus a little more so my toes will survive.”

“I have a feeling that you’re not telling the full truth. I can’t imagine you taking up any new task without mastering it,” she said.

He only smiled at her.

They circled the dance floor for the next half hour, and Whitney was surprised to find herself making fewer and fewer mistakes as she learned first a simple dance and then a more complicated one, and without any harm to his feet.

“Many things have changed around here since your arrival,” Liam told her.

Did he consider this good or bad? She had to wonder.

“I hope I haven’t been causing too much trouble,” she finally murmured.

“Trouble is exactly what you’re causing,” he said. “I’m thinking that we might never let you leave.” He spun her in a fast circle, taking her breath away.

“I don’t think you’d be allowed to lock me away, either in an attic or in one of your dungeons,” she said once her head also stopped spinning.

“Don’t be too hasty. You know what ‘they’ say about assumptions.”

“I wouldn’t do well locked away from the rest of the world. How would I ever be able to dance then, especially since I’m getting so good at it?” she said. Their banter was making her let down her guard even further.

“That would be a true tragedy — you’re obviously so good at dancing around subjects.”

“You’re a
very
good teacher,” she told him.

He pulled her a bit closer, and those butterflies in her stomach flew off in a flurry.

“I couldn’t teach someone who was unwilling to learn,” he said, and it took her a moment to remember what they were talking about.

But the music stopped playing, and it was time for Ally to have her piano lesson. Whitney’s moment with Liam was broken, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Then she gave him a look that had him gazing back at her suspiciously. “What are you up to, Ms. Steele?” he asked warily.

“How about I teach you a few of
my
dance moves?”

“I suspect that’s not something I want to learn.”

“Oh, my goodness, let down your hair for a few moments and allow yourself to have some fun.” Whitney walked over to the mp3 player and switched the music to one of her nephew’s hip-hop songs. She turned back toward Liam and chuckled quietly to herself over the horrified look on his face.

“You can do this. It’s very easy, really. You just move your hips to the beat,” she told him, and she started swaying her body in a way that had a new light shining in his eyes.

He looked at her for a moment longer before he joined her in what wouldn’t count as the greatest attempt at hip-hop dancing known to man, or woman.

A few songs later, though, they were both laughing and sweaty, and she was having more fun than she’d experienced since the moment she had lost her sister. Then he grabbed her hands and swung her under his arm, and they did a blend of waltz and hip-hop, neither of them aware of the rest of the world.

When he tripped and fell to the floor, Whitney couldn’t keep the laughter from spilling out. Snooty Liam Felton was filled with surprises, and she was beginning to succumb to his spell.

As the song ended, a throat clearing alerted them they were no longer alone. They both turned to find Alexandra, that starchy aristocrap … oops, aristocrat … Whitney had met several days ago, standing next to the door with a look of horror on her face.

“What are you two doing?”

“That is none of your concern,” Liam said. He stood up, and ice filled his eyes as he began straightening his clothing.

“Considering that you have kept me waiting, I believe it
is
my concern,” she snapped, sending a fiery look Whitney’s way.

“Waiting? For what?”

“We have a meeting,” she reminded him.

“I’ve scheduled nothing with you,” he told her, his voice growing slightly more fierce.

“Maybe if you weren’t playing with the commoners, you would remember what’s important,” she said.

Whitney didn’t know what to say or think about that statement. But she didn’t have to respond. Fury ignited in Liam’s eyes, making Whitney wish she was anywhere but where she was right at that moment.

“You will leave now, Alexandra,” Liam told her in a voice Whitney had never heard him use before. It made her decide, right then and there, that she never wanted to be on his bad side. Did she want to be on any of his sides?

With a final outraged glance sent Whitney’s way, Alexandria turned and swept from the room, grace in every step she took. Sophisticated women like her never did any stomping.

“I apologize for that,” Liam said to Whitney. “I allowed the time to get away from me.” He left the gigantic ballroom and followed Alexandra.

For just a small moment in time Whitney had forgotten that she had decisions to make, forgotten that she shouldn’t flirt with this man — particularly
this
man — and that she shouldn’t enjoy his company, that it was selfish to feel anything other than concern for her sister’s children.

She couldn’t allow such a memory lapse again — after all, she was nothing more than a commoner.

Chapter Fourteen

W
hitney was engrossed
in a book when Liam interrupted her later that afternoon.

“Let’s go for another walk,” he said. When she looked up, her cheeks were flushed and she seemed … embarrassed.

“What did you say, Liam?”

“I’m feeling cooped up. I want to get out of the house for a while.”

“I thought you had plans with Alexandra.”

Liam studied her as she said that, and it was apparent that his ex-girlfriend had embarrassed Whitney. That’s not what he wanted.

“That was all in her head. She and I broke up over six months ago. Apparently she’s having a difficult time accepting that fact.” He didn’t need to add anything more to that statement. Women he’d dated in the past were none of anyone’s business.

As Whitney slammed her book shut and tucked it beside her in the chair, he decided he’d really like to know what had her so hot and bothered. Or at least bothered.
Hot
wasn’t in his usual vocabulary, though it was starting to show up.

“I guess I could stretch my muscles. It seems I’ve lost track of time,” she said. “But let me run upstairs first. I’m not dressed for this chilly weather.” She almost scampered from the room.

Liam walked over and picked up her forgotten book. He opened the pages to the one she had marked and began reading. He felt his body tighten at the words on the page and suddenly understood her flushed cheeks.

He closed the book and put it back down. It wouldn’t do him any good to read about throbbing arousals and swollen buds in some cheesy paperback right before spending time alone with this compelling woman. He already wanted Whitney far too much, even though he knew the situation was impossible.

He couldn’t be with a woman like her, not for long, at least. She was too naïve, too innocent, not to mention the aunt of the children that he and his father had decided would be much better off raised here, by their father’s relatives. With them, the kids would have unlimited opportunities for advancement. For him to even consider a fling with a woman of her sort was ridiculous. And yet he still found himself wanting her with a passion that bordered on obsession.

He flicked the book away and, after striding purposefully over to the drinks cabinet, poured himself a shot of scotch. That was better. The liquid made a fiery path down his throat and helped ease the tension in his stomach. At least it softened the longing until Whitney came back into the room.

“Sorry I took so long,” she said as she came to stand beside him. “I had a hard time finding my boots.”

“You took hardly any time at all,” he told her. If she’d taken longer, he might have gotten his libido under control, dammit.

“So what is this all about, Liam? Is it about the children?” she asked as they stepped through the doors into the cold late afternoon air. A few snow flurries were falling around them, but not enough to force them back inside.

He didn’t answer. He’d never felt so terrible before about doing what he knew to be right. It was the best for everyone concerned. So why in the world was he feeling any guilt at all? Was a woman like this going to make him a better person somehow?

No. That was ridiculous. What was wrong with who he was? He was powerful, determined, and successful in all he attempted. Should he change who he was or what he was about? Absurd. Absurd in the extreme.

Whitney seemed to stiffen as she walked beside him. Perhaps she knew what was to come. But instead of pressing him, she backed away and changed the subject. “It’s so beautiful today. Every time I look out the windows here or step through the front doors, I’m reminded of a ‘Winter Wonderland.’ We get snow in Oregon, but not much at all where I live.”

“Being with you and the children is an entirely new experience for my father and me. I hate to say it, but for a long time, we’d rarely noticed the beauty around us. The children are somehow altering the way we see things, giving us a new and fresh perspective.”

She smiled up at him, light shining in her eyes, and he couldn’t help but touch her. He placed her arm through his and took her on a path that led them to a cave, one he’d always enjoyed playing in as a child. Well, to be honest, a cave he’d enjoyed playing in until he’d realized that playtime was unproductive.

The two of them walked in silence while he thought about his life, thought about what was to come. There was so much he needed to say to this woman, and yet he was reluctant to do anything right then except hold on to her arm and attempt to see things through her eyes.

When Whitney gasped a few minutes later as a herd of deer passed by, his cold heart leapt a bit in his chest.

“Surely you see deer in Oregon,” he said with a scoffing sort of laugh.

“Oh, yes, of course I do. But these bucks are huge and so close.” And she also laughed, but in a different way, as the deer looked at them fearlessly.

“There’s no hunting allowed in this area,” Liam told her. “The animals aren’t afraid of humans. And they definitely reproduce.”

“I’m not against hunting, at least when it’s done for food or for other good reasons, but I just couldn’t be the one to pull the trigger,” Whitney said. “Deer are just too majestic — and then, of course, there’s Bambi. And his poor mother.”

“We should have brought some hay in our pockets, Whitney. They most likely would have wandered over and taken it from you.” As soon as the sentence was out, Liam was questioning who in the hell he was. He didn’t make statements like that, didn’t stroll down paths and feed hay to wild animals.

“That would have been amazing.”

“Next time we’ll remember.” He gave up. His mouth obviously had a mind of its own right now. But even he knew what it really wanted to be doing.

“I don’t know if there will be a next time. I’m leaving soon,” she said, and gave a sad sigh.

Those words didn’t make Liam happy, but why should he care? He shouldn’t. That was the short answer. She hadn’t said, “We’re leaving soon,” so maybe she understood what was going to happen with the children.

But because he was in some sort of internal turmoil — he didn’t want to analyze it — he used a bit more force than necessary when he tugged on her arm. He wanted to show her his cave.

“I’m taking you to a place that has very special meaning to me,” he said as they reached the end of the trail.

“Oh, Liam, this is spectacular,” she said as she gazed at what seemed like a giant cavern.

“Beware,” he told her.

“Why?”

“My great-great-grandfather blocked this off at one time. The cave is rumored to have magical powers and was always a favorite place for all the Felton children to hide out or play in.”

“Magical powers?”

“I’m just telling you the story. I don’t in any way believe in such things,” he made sure to inform her. “I’m definitely not a romantic.”

And yet he was finding it difficult not to believe in magic. A break in the clouds let the sun shine directly down upon her, causing her hair to glow and her eyes to light up even more. Was she a Good Witch of the West? Or a reincarnation of Glinda? Yeah, sure.

“I’m relieved to hear you say that. The order of the world might change if superbusinessman Liam Felton believed in something so silly as magic.”

Though she was joking with him, her words stung just a bit. No, he didn’t believe in things that weren’t there. No. He couldn’t do that. So he decided to carry on with his story.

“Here’s the family tragedy. My great-great-grandfather’s oldest son came out here the night before his eighteenth birthday. He was to be made a partner in the company the next day. But he was never seen again.”

“How do you know he didn’t just run away?”

“About half a mile inside the cave, blood was found, along with his jacket and the satchel he carried his art supplies in. He loved painting more than anything else, or so I’ve been told.”

“Maybe that was all a setup. Maybe he just didn’t know how to tell his father what he really wanted out of life, and he went on to be an artist.”

“No. That’s ridiculous. It couldn’t have happened that way,” he told her, though his mind was reeling.

“I think the story is far more
romantic
that way.”

“This is the way we know the story. He was taken into another world but his spirit still resides here, to protect future generations of children from dying as tragically as he did.”

“That makes quite a touching ending to the story too, but I like my version better,” she told him as she stepped inside the cave. “He felt trapped, and he went off to pursue what he loved.”

Liam felt mesmerized by this woman and her odd perspective on things. What if she were right and his great-uncle had decided to run away and start over? If only there were any way to find out, but there wasn’t. Suddenly his words poured out.

“Vince and I never wanted this kind of life. We never wanted to work seven days a week and turn into the man our father used to be. We would come to this cave and plan on running away, living on the land, maybe even becoming cowboys. Anything seemed better than this.”

“I’m so sorry, Liam, for all the responsibility heaped on your shoulders.”

“I don’t need sympathy, Whitney. That was just a foolish thought from when we were younger.”

“It obviously matters to you if you’re telling me this now.”

“Just learning of my brother’s death is probably playing with the way I see things. I’m sure I’ll be back to my normal self in no time,” he told her.

“I rather like this guy who’s not so normal.”

She shivered.

“I’m sorry for keeping you out here for so long in this weather.”

“I’m okay, really,” she said. “I want to enjoy this peace and quiet for a few more moments.”

He looked down at her red nose and open expression, and he couldn’t help himself. He had to taste her lips again.

So he wrapped his arms around her waist and watched as awareness flashed through her eyes. He bent forward and finally their lips connected. He’d meant it to be short and sweet, just a simple touch, just something to ease the ache. But as soon as his mouth met hers, he lost control.

Her tongue was soft and wet against his lips. She darted it out, more like a question than a demand. He answered her in the only way he knew how, and oh how he enjoyed the contours of her mouth. He wished these thick layers of clothing weren’t between them, because he wanted to feel her skin, all of it, with no barriers. She clung to his shoulders as he cupped her backside and drew her against him.

He deepened the kiss, sliding farther inside the warm recesses of her mouth and moving his fingers desperately through the silky strands of her hair. He’d only wanted one simple kiss, to prove he was in control. He was being proven wrong.

She seemed to pull herself together much more quickly than he could have, and she started resisting. He didn’t get the message at first — their mouths remained locked together. But Whitney finally pulled free.

“Let go of me,” she said breathlessly. “Please. NOW.”

He looked into her flushed face and groaned. Her eyes were dilated in passion and she was breathing heavily. It would be so easy to seduce her into continuing, but he wasn’t about to force her. Still, he had to say something in his frustration.

“I don’t know why we keep stopping.”

“Because this can’t go anywhere. That shouldn’t have happened again,” she told him. She turned and, once more, ran away from him.

He wanted to chase her, but she was right. This couldn’t possibly go anywhere. It would be for the best if he forgot about her, forgot about this feeling inside him, and simply carried out his plans.

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