Forster, Suzanne (27 page)

BOOK: Forster, Suzanne
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She would have turned to him now, except that she'd decided she loved having him behind her, too, pressing into her, one hand caressing her hips and derriere, the other nestling around to cup her breasts. His hands belonged exactly where they were, fondling her intimately. They were as familiar as someone else's hands... As familiar as... ?

Somewhere in the deep switch centers of her brain, the place where sensory information was processed and routed to its ultimate destination, a tiny little alarm sounded. She knew these hands. She could feel their palpable warmth on her skin, she could almost discern their detail. His male cologne was familiar, also... it had the rich, spiced heaviness of Brandy. She loved that cologne... it was...?

Brandy was Rob's scent.

The relay station went into full alert. The switchboard automatically began to reprocess the data and reroute its circuitry. She wasn't in the stable, her brain was telling her. She was in bed. Her bed. This man who was cupping her breasts and touching her quivering flanks. This man who wanted to ride her was... not Jack.

"Baby, it's me. Gus! We've got to talk. "

Gus roused herself, all neurons firing now and hitting their targets. It was Rob! She opened her eyes to a room flooded with moonlight, Brandy cologne and feverish, undissipated heat.

"It's you? Rob?" She rolled over in a rush. In her haste she sideswiped him with her elbow, bumping his nose. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

Even in the moonlight she could see his features narrow and grow suspicious. That was Rob's one flaw, she'd always thought. He harbored a jealous streak. Still, it was a relief to have him back. Apparently he'd impetuously crawled into bed with her, fully dressed, and she loved the way his jaw muscle danced when he was tense. His deep brown eyes, dark hair, and cleft chin gave him a boyish look that had always appealed to her, except when he was angry, like now, and then the charm seemed more immature than boyish.

"Of course it's me," he said. "Who did you think it was?"

When she didn't answer immediately, he began to glower. "Are you sleeping with that guy, Gus? Did you have sex with him in Mexico?"

"No, of course not!" It was the truth, she told herself. She and Jack hadn't slept together, not in Mexico. "Let's not talk about sex, okay? We have more important things to discuss. "

He propped himself up, rested his head against his fist, and gazed at her searchingly. "Right, like getting the marriage annulled—"

Gus grabbed for the coverlet he'd pulled off her, suddenly uncomfortable about her nakedness. "Don't worry about the marriage right now, " she countered. "I don't even think it's legal. I've got something else in mind. "

"Gus, if he touches you, I'll kill him. I swear, I'll kill him. In fact, that's a damn good idea, why
don't
I kill him?"

"I've already thought of that, and I've come up with something, a plan—"

"A plan to kill him? You'd do it yourself? No, that's much too dangerous. "

"It's not what you're thinking, " she assured him, shrewdly deciding not to reveal what she had in mind. "I'm just going to get to know my new husband a little better, spend some time with him, that's all. "

"No sex? No murder? I don't want you doing either of those things without me. "

She laughed softly, feeling almost giddy at the craziness of her situation. She was in bed with her fiancé, talking about killing her husband, who was sleeping on the other side of the house in the guest room. "I wouldn't dream of doing either without you, okay, Rob? Now let me get some sleep,
please.
It's late, and I've got a big day tomorrow. "

Suddenly it hit her that she hadn't told him the news. "I almost forgot!" she gasped out. "They're giving me the money. Ward made the announcement tonight, in front of Lake and Lily and everyone. I've got the startup money for my magazine. "

A surge of joy made her light-headed, and she dropped back on the pillows, staring up at the frills and flounces of her cabbage rose canopy bed. Rob was one of the few people who could appreciate what the funding truly meant. He'd been operating as her business partner for the magazine, and he knew the tens of millions that were involved in a national launch of the scope they were planning. She wanted to reach people with this magazine. She wanted to touch them.

"Jesus, Gus—" He seemed too stunned to assimilate the information. "That's fabulous. That means our brainchild worked. It if weren't for Culhane, it would have worked perfectly. Let's celebrate, " he said, pulling her into his arms.

Gus felt herself stiffen as his hand slid down to her hip. and he drew her against him. When men wanted to celebrate, it always meant sex, but she couldn't do that. She wasn't sure why. She just couldn't. "Not tonight, I—"

"Have a headache?"

She sighed deeply and turned serious. "Rob, it was always your idea to keep our romantic relationship a secret, not mine. You're the one who felt it might damage your credibility as a publicist—and as my manager. We can't let people find out about us now. That would be a disaster. "

She went on at length, convincing him that they had to be completely circumspect or everything they'd worked so hard to accomplish would be lost. "If something goes wrong now, if I'm f-found out—" The hoarseness that crept into her voice, the hesitation, spoke for itself apparently. He was one of the few people she'd ever told about her incident with the snakes and the resulting stammer, and now, hearing it seemed to defuse him.

He nodded reluctantly and released her. "You're right, of course. We'll have to be very careful until this is resolved. "

Moments later when he'd gone and Gus was alone once more, she threw off the bedcovers and flattened herself against the sheets, pressing her naked limbs to their coolness and staring at the ceiling. She had lied to Rob, about so many things, the least of which was the fact that she wasn't tired at all. She was wide awake and thinking about tomorrow, but it wasn't murder on her mind, it was... riding. Riding wild horses.

"You know what they're doing, don't you? They're out there having sex on my horses!"

Lily Featherstone banged down the sterling silver coffee urn without having poured herself any coffee. She left the bone china cup and saucer rattling on the mahogany sideboard as she advanced on the dining room window and peered out.

The pale, sun-misted light of early morning crept over the rolling, wooded hills of the estate grounds and flooded the mullioned panes of the bay window, bathing her in a brightness that made her eyes teary. But Lily had no interest in the beauty of nature this morning. She was scathingly angry at her stepsister for sneaking off to ride without permission. According to Daniel, the stable hand, Gus and that primitive male friend of hers had left on Sapphire, Lily's own mount, and one of the other dozen horses they kept for guests to ride.

Husband, Lily corrected. Gus had married some lowlife security person whom no one had ever heard of! Her sigh held genuine distress. "What's happening to this family?" she asked plaintively.

"They're not having sex on the horses, I can assure you of that."

Lily swung on her brother, furious with him for being so cavalier about the latest disaster Gus had brought down on their heads. Their younger stepsister had been a constant source of humiliation since the day she and her mother arrived, with their cheap Kmart clothes packed in cardboard boxes and their drugstore cosmetics. Why couldn't the trashy woman have taken Gus with her when she ran off?

"How could you possibly think that?" she asked Lake. She tweaked the collar of her crisp white cotton blouse, unhappy with the way the placket was lying. "Did you see the way those two were looking at each other? I thought they were going to strip off in the drawing room and have at it right there. "

"Would have been an improvement on the pianist."

Lake's wry smile did little to mollify Lily. Her twin brother was still sitting at the dining room table, an unfinished plate of scrambled eggs and one of Frances's apple-bran muffins in front of him. They were alike in so many ways, including their disinterest in food before noon. Lily could barely stand the smell of cooked eggs. But there was a child in the house, as Gus so often reminded them, and children's growing bodies had to be nourished. What disturbed Lily was Lake's stubborn insistence on underestimating Gus. He persisted in seeing her as a rather charming nuisance as opposed to what she actually was—an insidious threat to the Featherstone family and everything they represented.

"How can you say they're not having sex?" she wanted to know. "I'm quite sure they're having it on the horses,
with
the horses, and every other way they can think of. "

Lake's expression was infuriatingly tolerant of his sister's pique. "They're not even sleeping together, Lily. They don't share a bedroom. "

She made an impatient gesture and began to fuss with her blouse again. The Liz Claiborne slacks and matching vest she'd picked for her day of running errands were wrong, simply wrong. The western cut did nothing for her at all. With a growing sense of frustration, she scrutinized her reflection in the huge antique mirror that ran the length of the wall behind Lake. At thirty-seven she was already beginning to look droopy and pinched. Sad, she thought. She really looked quite sad. Time, like
everything
else in their lives, had clearly picked Lake to favor. It didn't seem to matter that they were twins. He looked ten years younger.

"What does that mean—they're not sleeping together?" she wanted to know. "Lots of married couples don't sleep together. That doesn't stop them from having sex in the bathroom sink. "

"And if they were?" He threw down his napkin and rose from the table, then picked up his cup and walked to the sideboard for more coffee. The dazzling white light from the window sheened his hair and stole what little color there was from his handsome, angular features. "Their sex lives are the least of it. We don't know who this man is. We don't know what he wants. "

"Yes, exactly, " she chimed in, relieved they agreed on that much. "I think we can assume money's a large part of the attraction, don't you?"

"For him? Probably, but I'm not convinced that's all there is to it. " He poured himself some coffee and joined her at the window, as if to help her spot the marauding couple.

"I suppose we could hire a detective, " Lily ventured. Lake said nothing for a moment. "I've already taken care of that. "

"You've hired a detective?"

"Not exactly."

Lily was astonished. Glancing at him, she wondered if she were imagining the grim set of his profile as he gazed at the hills of the Angeles Crest Forest in the distance. The sprawling state park bordered the northern border of the estate and conveniently provided Lily and her guests with myriad trails for riding. He
was
concerned, she realized. "Do you think Culhane is dangerous in some way?"

"Just being cautious, " he said with a quick shake of his head. His easy smile returned.

Lily had the distinct feeling he was keeping something from her, though that hardly seemed possible given their relationship. The rich aroma of his fresh, hot coffee drifted to her, and she reached for his cup with a smile, reassured when he relinquished it as if he'd read her intentions. They did understand each other. They'd always been able to communicate without words.

She sipped the coffee slowly, savoring the hint of cinnamon that Frances often added. "One of your security guards—Howard, I think it was—told me he caught two tabloid reporters trying to climb the walls yesterday. There's tremendous curiosity about Gus's mystery man, as they're calling him. I'm just afraid they'll come after us, the family, I mean, and try to find something scandalous to expose. "

"The Featherstone family secrets? Our own private can of nightcrawlers, you mean?" Lake tapped the windowpane as a sparrow landed on the sill in pursuit of the muffin crumbs that Frances sprinkled around after breakfast every morning.

He was in a mood today. Lily couldn't decide if he was being mysterious or obtuse. Nightcrawlers? The analogy was so apt it made her want to shudder! "How can you be so casual about something like that? It would be a
disaster
if the media began probing into our lives. You know that as well as I. "

He was suddenly contrite. "They're not interested in us, Lily, " he assured her. "It will take a few days, maybe even a few weeks, but the furor will die down. Something else even more sensational will distract them. "

"If Gus will let it die. You know how she is, Lake. And she's going to want all the publicity she can get for this magazine of hers. " Lily could hardly contain her scorn. "She's already taken it upon herself to announce that ridiculous foundation. Can a press conference be far off? I swear, if she does
one
more thing to embarrass us, if she uses Jillian's name again to further her glory-seeking, I'll—"

Lake stepped back from the window, took the cup from her hand, and set it down. With a knowing smile he turned her away from him and began to massage her neck and shoulders. "Everything's under control, Lily, " he crooned softly. "I'll take care of things. Haven't I always?"

That wasn't entirely true. Lily could have mentioned a failing or two, including the vast sums he spent on art— squandered, in her opinion. But the mere touch of his hands brought a sigh to her lips. Her body was tight, especially there, and the pressure felt wonderful. As he began to knead more deeply, she rolled her head back and caught a glimpse of someone standing in the arched doorway. A soft exclamation slipped through her lips. "Who's there?"

"Good morning to both of you. "

Lake's hands dropped away as Ward McHenry entered the room. "Ward, " he said, clearly startled. "I didn't hear you come in. "

McHenry looked a bit disconcerted himself. His ruddy features were rosier than ever, and his coppery hair seemed to be ablaze in the morning sunshine. He was carrying his suit jacket over his arm and his shirt collar was unbuttoned at the neck.

Lily moved quickly to get their guest some coffee and put an end to the awkwardness. "Oh, didn't I tell you, Lake?" she explained as she went to the sideboard. "I invited Ward to spend the night. It seemed silly for him to make the drive back to Malibu at that time of night. "

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