Second Chances (12 page)

Feeling a blush creeping up her neck, Maya choose to hide behind a cheeky smile. “Well, I’ll say I’m the best remedy you ever tried.”

Arthur laughed and stretched his legs on the bed, settling comfortably on the cushions with his arms folded under his head.

“Who is self-flattering now? We have at least two hours before our presence is required. So if you don’t mind, I’ll take a nap. Wake me up at six, will you?”

The sweet moment was gone. The young man was back to his obnoxious ways, and apparently, he had decided the bed was his. Maya wondered if she could find Colin and Gavin. If their room had two beds, maybe she could convince them to lend her one for the night.

Arthur called her back at the door.

“Maya, you didn’t tell me what color your dress is?”

***

White. She was a dream in white and gold. Arthur lost his footing, half-falling on the bed when he backed up as she walked out of the bathroom. The delicate snowy fabric ran along her curves to attract his eyes to perfect…perfectly inappropriate places. He swallowed more air than saliva and coughed.

Startled by the sound, Maya turned toward him, her eyebrows quirked in an expression of surprise. The small pearls in her hair caught the light and scintillated, as the silken curls flowed freely over one creamy bare attractive shoulder. And her mouth…Her mouth was a brilliant, inviting red. The craving twisting his stomach was unspeakable.

He was probably gawping like a goldfish, for her eyes shone with pleasure. Arthur slowly relaxed his grip on the coverlet, and looked for a compliment. He had to say something, before she realized…For all his eloquence, the only words he found were desperately simple.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

Then she blushed, and a full dictionary invaded his head: beautiful, enchanting, mesmerizing, breathtaking, radiant, ravishing…

The more adjectives he found, the more agitated he felt. Arthur stood and turned his back on her, busying himself with his bow-tie and tux jacket. Surely, in the ballroom with his father and their friends around, he would find back his composure. He had to.

Chapter 18

If the peacock attitude was Arthur’s way of helping with her growing nerves, it was absolutely…ineffective. Her stomach was so tight its wild looping was reverberating up to her throat.

Maya forced her fingers to unclench from Arthur’s sleeve. He looked already too pleased with himself to give him the additional satisfaction of posing as her champion. A part of her wanted to wring his neck. That was the sensible part; he WAS insufferable, treating her like some shiny foil. Another part tried to remind her of the fascination on his face when she stepped out of the bathroom, as if she could find some help in the image. Unfortunately, that part didn’t speak loud enough. He didn’t seem fascinated now; only vain.

She grasped his forearm again when the ballroom doors opened to let them in. Arthur circled her waist to whisper, steadying her AND preventing any possible retreat, “Quit the rabbit look, Maya, and smile. My father is watching.”

The kiss on her hair felt like a mark. Robert was watching, as well as several guests she didn’t recognize. Maya searched frantically for a friendly face; Tristan or Colin, but neither was in her line of sight. Panic chased all coherent thoughts from her head. Robert was watching, and Arthur was guiding (pushing) her straight to him. Her stomach jumped again; her godfather’s stare was anything but welcoming.

For an instant, she feared her knees would buckle. Arthur pressed his thumb just below her hip and the intimacy of the touch instantly provoked her. Maya turned to lash out at him, and in doing so she noticed Isobel who was just one step behind Robert, encouragingly smiling at her. She calmed down; she had no choice, they were already facing her doom.

“Good evening, Father; Regis. Isobel, you’re lovely, as usual.”

Arthur pecked the offered cheek quickly and was about to present Maya when Robert stepped forward, grabbing her elbow.

“Regis, my ward, Maya Finnegan.”

The cold introduction, added to the steel grip, sent goose bumps down her spine. Isobel’s father took her hand and kissed her knuckles gallantly.

“My dear, Abigail used to wear white at the Ball, and you’re reviving her memory exquisitely.”

Robert let go of her and she sensed Arthur stiffened imperceptibly.

“Abigail used to…Oh Lord. And he had said nothing!”

Maya bowed her head silently, desperately wishing for someone to rescue her. Obviously, it would not be her official escort, who was carefully avoiding her eyes.

Salvation came from Isobel, dearest Isobel, who pulled her aside with an admiring squeal.

“Maya, you’re stunning! Isn’t she stunning? Tristan, tell her she’s stunning!”

Her cousin, who had miraculously appeared out of nowhere, took both her hands into his to take a proper look at her and beamed.

“You look absolutely ravishing.”

Someone whistled, Tex-Avery wolf style and Colin’s laugher echoed behind her, “Down, Gavin.”

The praise from her friends helped her forget the mute disgust in her godfather’s icy gaze and Arthur’s unnerving demeanor. She accepted a flute of champagne, and the bubbles danced in her empty overturned stomach, making her dizzy. Maya welcomed the feeling, relaxing a little in the smiles and the cheerful company.

“May I?”

The mellow cocoon around her solidified and exploded into pieces when Robert took her wrist to lead her to the dance floor. The orchestra started a famous waltz, and Maya abruptly realized they were to open the ball.

Her stomach back-flipped dangerously. Robert seized her waist before she could find an excuse to flee and started to dance.

They whirled alone to the magical music during a measure or two, before other couples joined them, Isobel and Tristan in the lead. She wanted to watch them dance together, but Robert’s massive frame was blocking her view.

“Wearing white doesn’t make you the lady of this house. You are my son’s guest. Nothing more.”

“And nothing less, father.”

The interruption managed to look polite and be a warning at the same time. Her heart fluttered as Arthur replaced his father to carry on with the dance, relieved to be rid of a man who apparently detested her, and exasperated to be so pleased that her savior was his dutiful son.

Maya concentrated on her steps. For once, she was grateful her cavalier was so tall. Her godfather’s disowning had left her too vulnerable to look at Arthur in the eye and keep a straight face. Suddenly, she wanted to cry.

The waltz ended and another one began. Arthur changed his hold on her to bring her closer, her nose nearly brushing his shoulder. Whiffs of musky aftershave grazed her nostrils, and she took in the comforting scent.

“Don’t be sad, Edana. You’re welcome here; always will be.”

Maya looked up and met serious blue eyes.

“Thank you.”

The need to be hugged by him tingled on her skin, and she moved back a little, slightly embarrassed. Arthur accepted her retreat with his customary smirk, instantly infuriating her.

“You may want to work on your repartees, though. They’re a bit…late; and short.”

She would have kicked him if she could have done so without disgracing herself. Left with no other choice, Maya scowled and her companion burst out laughing.

“No pouting; it’ll ruin the outfit. Let’s go, I’m famished and Colin is probably plundering the buffet already.”

The young woman gladly got away from him. Of course Arthur couldn’t show consideration or gentleness for more than fifty seconds. She clasped her skirt and pirouetted to join their friends on the other side of the room, perfectly poised. At least this disastrous interlude had settled her nerves completely.

***

The party in full swing was intoxicating. Maya enjoyed dancing with Colin and Gavin, who knew little about ballroom dancing but put so much enthusiasm into their tryouts her head was spinning. Tristan escorted her for most of the complicated quadrilles; they made such a cute couple, even Isobel didn’t complain (much).

Arthur waltzed with her a few times, but he spent most of his time fulfilling his duties alongside his father. However, the more the evening went on, the more he seemed unwilling to leave the happy little group they formed, and whenever he managed to come back, his eyes seemed a little darker each time.

Around midnight, Maya was on a quest for some non-alcoholic beverage to beat the champagne’s effects, which were making the floor reel alarmingly, when the tired acceptance reached her ears.

“Yes, of course.”

The defeat in Arthur’s voice sounded so heartfelt she forgot instantly about her water and walked to the proud figures standing nearby. Robert frowned in response to her brilliant smile while she linked her fingers with Arthur’s.

“Dance with me…”

He didn’t resist, not even looking back to excuse himself, and she towed him to the dance floor. When he took her in his arms, the gesture held some resemblance of a “Thank you”.

Maybe it was the later hour, maybe it was the champagne, but Maya found his following tease more funny than irritating.

“You missed me…”

“Of course not. You always leave too much of an impression for that.”

“A compliment, Maya? I’m flattered.”

She pulled a face, the effect spoiled with enough of a smile to make him laugh. Maya’s smile widened. She liked his laugh.

“Whatever. I forbid you to talk to your father or his associates for the rest of the night.”

“You did miss me. And what did you do to my frightened mouse-like date?”

“I drowned her in golden fizzling bubbles. Can you stop turning so fast?!”

“So you admit I’m turning your head…”

Before she could react to the flirting, Arthur suddenly bent her over his forearm in a dip so low her hair brushed the floor. Maya gave a little cry and when he pulled her up, she clutched to his shoulder, terrified and exhilarated.

“Do that again and you’ll sleep on the floor!”

Arthur instantly sobered, eyebrows up; his eyes lit with a mixture of surprise and, which was far more concerning, anticipation.

“You mean I’m not?”

Maya bit her lower lip; she had said that as a joke and hadn’t thought he’d take her at her word…She hesitated a little too long and Arthur spoke first, very softly.

“I promise you I…”

“I know.”

Maya was glad he pulled her closer so she could hide her flaming face in his chest. And she prayed he upheld whatever promise he had intended to make.

Chapter 19

A silken curl tickled his nose and Arthur instinctively tightened his grip around the warm body curled against him, pulling it closer. His companion sighed softly, and pressed further into him, fast asleep.

He jerked, fully awake, and instantly retrieved the arm that was circling her waist. The movement woke up the raven-haired woman by his side and Maya turned her head to him with a smile.

“Hi…Happy birthday…”

“Huh…Hello. Yeah, thanks.”

Maya giggled at the hesitation and grumpy tone. She felt good, rested, and agreeably warm even if he wasn’t shielding her from the cold anymore. She stretched luxuriously, delighted to see his dilated eyes trying to focus as far from her as possible. He looked so uncomfortable, she couldn’t help teasing him.

“At least you don’t snore.”

Normally he would have teased back and made some sneaky remark in order to annoy her or make her blush. Blame it on her clear green eyes and mesmerizing smile, Arthur just kept his mouth shut. Maya laughed again and leaned back into the pillows.

“Don’t be so cranky. There’s nothing wrong with sleeping together. I have shared a bed with Colin and Tristan countless times.”

“Colin is gay.”

“Tristan is not.”

Yeah. And the guy had incredible willpower, or a serious problem, if he had never made a move on her. Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he had a woman in his bed, and just slept. It had probably never happened. Or he had been ten at the time. Or sick. Or drunk. No, it had simply never happened.

The shape of Maya next to him was the source of the fever in his veins, propelled by the jumping of his heart. His little traitorous heart, which was probably trying to escape from his chest to reach her.

Temptation was praising her luscious mouth, so close, ready for him to take. His ego insinuated she would not resist if he rolled over her, purring that she might even welcome the assault. Arthur turned his back to her and buried his face in the pillows.

This was just some typical morning reaction; it had to be. The craving he had for her was just raging testosterone because her body was too close and half-naked. He didn’t want her; he could not want her. She was everything he didn’t need. She was too candid, too soft-hearted.

So lovely with her hair mussed and that dreamy puff in her eyes…So desirable when she was smiling that impossible smile of hers. He had sworn…Well technically he hadn’t promised anything but…He grunted in frustration.

Maya pushed away the covers and got up, apparently perfectly at ease with the situation. He caught a glimpse of her while her night-shift glided down her perfect legs, emerald against ivory. Her silhouette danced in the light when she opened the curtains.

Arthur grunted again. She had no idea how close he was to ravish her, no idea. He crushed the pillow on his face.

A few minutes later, he realized the room was silent, that she was not moving about anymore. Arthur allowed himself a glimpse above his shield. Maya was settled in an armchair near the window, her knees close to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She was looking at him with thoughtful eyes.

The green gaze was a little deeper than usual. What had he done to upset her this time? In addition to using her as a pillow half the night and nearly harassing her, that was? He took the pillow off his face and pushed up on one elbow. She offered the truth before he had the temerity to ask.

“I don’t have a present for your birthday.”

One or two possibilities crossed his mind, both of them extremely appealing; and equally inappropriate. Arthur fought to concentrate on something to say without humiliating himself.