Love Is Patient and A Heart's Refuge (6 page)

“You’ve got this tough exterior,” he said. “Yet I get a feeling that’s due to hurt layered beneath.”

Lisa’s heart wanted to believe that what she would say mattered to him. Her yearnings for family had often included someone exactly like Dylan. But she knew the reality of the situation. She needed him to find out the truth about her brother. She couldn’t afford to let him into her life. Couldn’t open the tiniest crack to him.

Yet, yet…

“Everyone has some hurt in their life,” she conceded quietly, giving him the few crumbs she dared. Then she dared a little more. “I know you have.”

Dylan rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “What do you mean?”

Lisa had gotten too far to quit now. “Your father. You. Ted. Today I saw a family that has solidity. Harmony. Except for a few harsh notes.”

He turned back to her and gave her a careful smile. “And you care because…?” He angled his head to one side.

“Because I don’t have a family,” she said quietly, her defenses worn down by the ceremony she had just witnessed. By Dylan’s nearness. “Because I would give all I
have for even a small part of what you have in your family.”

“That’s important to you?”

“What is rare becomes precious.” Lisa stopped the words flowing out of the lonely place.

“I think people in your life have let you down, too.” He caught her hand, tugging on it.

She couldn’t allow this to happen, she warned herself. She couldn’t start allowing him in. Because what would she have when they went their separate ways? What she had before. Only Gabe.

“Actually, there have been a lot of people in my life. A superb and varied cast.” She pulled away from him with a light laugh. “Too bad I haven’t quite figured out the plot.” With a twist of her wrist she had the door open and she was outside. Two quick breaths and equilibrium was restored.

She closed her eyes, pressed her lips together as she pulled into herself and the secret place she retreated to when her life was being taken apart by psychiatrists and social workers.

Take care of yourself. Take care of Gabe, she repeated as she mentally wrapped her layers of protection around herself.

You and me against the world.

The photographs took longer than the hour Dylan had promised and Lisa had to endure the subtle torment of seeing Dylan under selected lighting posing with his family, his sister. With each flash of the photographer’s bulb, each new pose, she found herself watching him more and more.

It’s just the tuxedo, she thought. It gave him a distinguished air that showed her a man who was at ease with himself no matter the circumstances. A man who could smile away the teasing of his family, who could give as good as he got without any rancor or anger.

Finally the last pose was held, the last photo snapped. Lisa slipped on her sandals and stood, brushing her dress down in anticipation of leaving.

“Wait a minute.” Chelsea motioned to Lisa and her heart sank. Surely Chelsea didn’t want her in the family picture? “I think Dylan and Lisa should get their picture taken. We’ve never had one of Dylan and a girlfriend.” Chelsea caught Dylan by the arm, bringing him to the center of the studio with a swish of her taffeta dress. “C’mon, Lisa.”

Lisa held back, her eyes darting to Dylan, pleading with him silently. They couldn’t do this. It was a farce.

Dylan tried to talk his way out of it, but soon the other sisters joined the chorus. He turned to Lisa and with a shrug held out his hand to her.

She had no choice but to join him.

“That looks great,” the photographer enthused. “The colors of that dress with the tux. Superb.” He walked over to them and pushed them closer together. “Put your hand on her shoulder, the other on her waist.” Dylan obliged and Lisa fought the urge to push it off. She felt exposed, standing here with him in the circle of light, surrounded by his family.

“Okay…Lisa, is it?”

Lisa felt Dylan’s hand squeeze her shoulder and she looked up, realizing she hadn’t paid attention.

“Lisa, put your opposite hand on Dylan’s hand at your waist. Now lean back, just a bit. Dylan, you come forward.”

Lisa could feel Dylan’s breath teasing the hair at her temple, could feel the heaviness of his hands on her shoulder and waist.

“Smile for the camera, Lisa,” Dylan whispered in her ear.

“This is silly,” she whispered back.

“Just play along,” he replied, the hand at her waist squeezing her lightly. “We don’t need to keep the pictures.” He caught her fingers through his and pulled her ever so gently closer.

“That’s great,” the photographer said. “Just great.”

Lights flashed and Lisa started.

“Just a couple more.” More flashes.

They were posed again, this time face-to-face.

“Look at each other with a big smile,” they were encouraged.

Lisa didn’t want to look up into his eyes again. Didn’t want to feel herself slowly being drawn into his personality, himself.

Love at first sight was only for fairy tales and people who couldn’t think for themselves.

Everything is just a game, she reminded herself as she lifted her chin. And you know the rules. She had to act like a loving escort. Had to treat him as if he was special. He was technically her boss, after all.

But as Dylan looked down at her, she found herself wondering how she was going to manage to treat this whole thing like a game for six more days.

Dylan took a quick gulp of punch, looking around at the hall where the reception was being held. Fountains and gorgeous tall centerpieces, flowers and netting decorated the elegant room. All around him people laughed and joked. In the middle of the dance floor couples moved to the rhythm of the music.

He’d done his duty dance with the bridesmaid, his sisters, his mother and a few aunts. He’d caught up with some uncles and a few cousins who had waylaid him a couple of times.

And thanks to his duties, he still hadn’t had a chance to dance with Lisa. She was supposed to be with him, yet it seemed that she had danced with everyone but him.

As Dylan watched, the young man she was dancing with caught her hand and pulled her close to tell her something. Lisa listened, then pulled back, laughing.

Dylan knew he had nothing to be jealous of. Lisa was just here for his convenience. He would be foolish to deny Lisa a good time, but he didn’t think she needed to be having that much fun.

Especially when he didn’t feel as if he was. Her words in the car about his family had found a home. He knew he had to fix what was wrong in his relationships, but how could he when his misgivings about Ted had been proven beyond a doubt? The fact that he was here trying to untangle the mess created under Ted’s leadership should prove to his father conclusively that he had made a mistake.

Yet Alex said nothing. Did nothing.

And spending this much time with his family un
derscored the distance between him and his father. He was surrounded by family and friends, yet he felt completely alone.

He didn’t have to be. Amber and Erika had been wonderfully prudent, though they had each taken along a couple of friends. Not once in the course of the evening, however, had they approached him or introduced him to any of their girlfriends. Not once had he been forced to dance with a giddy young girl whose breathless conversation was sprinkled with
like
s and
you know
s.

Lisa’s presence was doing exactly what he had hoped it would. The wedding he had been dreading was turning out just fine. So why wasn’t he feeling happier?

“Hey, Dylan.” His father’s brother, Anton Matheson, caught him by the arm, turning him around. “How are you, boy?”

Dylan grinned at his uncle and allowed himself to be drawn into a hearty hug. Anton was shorter than Dylan by a head, but he exuded a force of will that made him seem a foot taller. Anton pulled away, his dark eyes piercing Dylan’s. “So how are you really?”

The shift in his uncle’s tone moved the conversation from a casual give-and-take to the shakier territory of emotions.

“It was a lovely ceremony.”

Anton nodded, the overhead lights glinting off his shiny forehead. “I heard you’re quitting. Leaving the company?”

“It’s time to move on. I’m not going anywhere.”

Anton’s slow smile disappeared into the wiry brush of his mustache. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure your father is even more so.”

Annoyance twitched through him. “Truthfully, Uncle Anton, I think this makes things a whole lot easier for my father. He can keep Ted in charge without any guilt.”

“I think your father is struggling with his own regrets.”

Dylan tugged at his tie, feeling suddenly restricted by it. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t heard much from him.”

Anton nodded, brushing his index finger over his mustache. “Pride is a strong Matheson trait. You might have to make the first move.”

“I have.” Dylan tossed down the last of his punch, stifling his annoyance. His uncle didn’t need to be treated to a display of family disunity.

Anton caught Dylan’s angry gaze, a soft smile playing around his lips. “Your father does care about you.”

Dylan put his cup down and leaned forward. “Uncle Anton, I really appreciate that you’re trying to do this, but I’ve given all I can as far as my father is concerned. I’ve come to help the company. Not him. And if my father is really concerned about our relationship, then I would say it’s up to him to do something about it.”

Dylan felt the anger leave him as he spoke.

Anton nodded. “I know what you’re saying, Dylan. And you’re right. Now let’s talk about something pleasant. Maybe that lovely young woman you’re with. Tell me some more about her.”

Dylan glanced at the dance floor where Lisa was laughing at something her partner was saying.

“Her name is Lisa.”

Anton nodded, and Dylan could almost hear his smirk.

“She’s beautiful.”

Dylan didn’t have to echo that remark. But it made him uncomfortable to talk to his dear uncle about a relationship that was strictly for convenience.

It made him feel guilty. As if he was using Lisa.

Lisa and the man on the dance floor made another twirl, and thankfully the music came to an end.

“Well, here’s my chance to dance with her, Uncle Anton. I’ll catch you later.”

Anton waved him off. “Go. Enjoy yourself.”

Couples drifted off the dance floor as Dylan walked toward Lisa. With a surge of relief Dylan watched as Lisa shook her head, obviously declining another dance. Then, turning, she walked straight to him.

“Did you have a good time?”

“I’ve had more fun at the dentist,” she muttered, keeping her smile intact.

Dylan couldn’t help but laugh, surprised at the relief he felt at her annoyance. “He couldn’t have been that bad—you danced two dances with him.”

“He didn’t understand the meaning of the word
no.
” Lisa shook her head. “Maybe he’s dyslexic.”

“He’s my cousin.”

Lisa stopped, looked away and then back at him with a shrug. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Can’t pick your relatives.”

“Oh, the joys of splashing in the gene pool.”

Dylan laughed out loud as pleasure spiraled up in him, replacing his earlier melancholy.

The music changed tempo, the lights dimmed and
Dylan glanced at the dance floor. Couples were moving closer together. In the middle he saw his sister Chelsea with her new husband, her arms clasped around his neck. He saw his parents, Tiffany and her husband.

Everyone paired up. Belonging to someone.

“Can I have this dance?” he asked, looking back at Lisa.

“I’m not very good at slow dances,” she said with a light laugh.

“It’s not hard. Just follow my lead.”

“I’m not much good at doing that, either.”

“Try,” Dylan urged. He caught her hand and took a step toward the dance floor, smiling encouragement at Lisa.

With a laugh she finally gave in. Then they were on the floor, facing each other.

“Do we have to pretend to be a devoted couple?” Lisa asked with a touch of irony in her voice.

“No, but you can pretend you’re having a good time.” Dylan pushed down his disappointment at her response. He caught her hand in his, slipped his arm around her waist.

“I don’t know if I can rise to the occasion,” she said, flashing him a teasing grin. “But I can slide over to it.”

“Then you’d be dancing,” he replied, laughing, thankful once again for the equilibrium her sense of humor created.

However, when he pulled her closer, Dylan drew in a slow breath, feeling a release from the tension of the past few hours.

It was like coming home, he thought, turning slowly in time to the music. As if everything crazy in his life suddenly made sense with Lisa in his arms.

It was ridiculous to think that a girl he had just met could mean anything to him. And, even more, she was his employee. He blamed his feelings on the corny sentiments that single people often felt at weddings.

But the litany of practical phrases couldn’t explain the absolute rightness of having her in his arms.

He held her, beguiled by her touch, the faint scent of the shampoo in her hair. She wore no perfume, no other fragrance, yet he caught the fragile scent that he now recognized as peculiar to Lisa.

All too soon the dance was over, the lights came up and the moment drifted away with the last haunting notes of the music. Lisa didn’t look up at him as she slowly straightened. Her fingers trailed down the lapels of his coat. Had she felt it, too?

Dylan wanted to say something, to deepen the connection they had just experienced.

Then, finally, she glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Don’t look so somber, Dylan. Life is too serious to be taken seriously.” She tapped her fingers on his chest, then pulled away. Dylan scowled at her, disappointment spiraling tightly through him. How could she so casually dismiss what had just happened? Hadn’t she felt it, as well?

“I’m going to freshen up my lipstick,” she said, taking a step back. “Thanks for the dance.”

As she turned and walked away, annoyance twisted through him. Lately little satisfied him anymore.