Texas Rose (15 page)

Making herself more comfortable against her pillows, Beth tucked the sheet more securely around her ample breasts.

“Oh, don't look so shocked, Rose. You'd think you were the parent and I was the child.” Her smile spread to take in Matt. “Remember, my dears, life is to be savored, every last bite.” She turned toward the young man beside her who looked incredibly at ease, given the situation. “I think you know Bryce.”

“Your student,” Rose concluded, for the moment forgetting all about what had brought her into Beth's room in the first place. She knew all the stories about Beth's wild and so-called wicked youth, but she'd just assumed that it was all behind her. If she thought of Beth being in the company of men, she naturally assumed that they would be closer to her aunt's age, not her own.

Beth held up a finger. “Former student, actually. Bryce officially last took my class over a year ago.” She turned toward him. “Didn't you, dear?”

“But I saw him here the other night,” Rose protested. “With the others.”

Beth waved away the protest and the worry line she saw forming across Rose's forehead. No matter
what she said, the girl was very much Archy's daughter, Beth thought.

“That's unofficial. He graduated last June, but found that I had a profound influence on him.” Beth patted Bryce's hand. “Wasn't that the way you worded it, dear?”

“Profound,” Bryce agreed. It was obvious that he thought of Beth as more than his match and was as comfortable with the arrangement as Rose was uncomfortable. He looked at Matt. “Your aunt's the youngest woman I know.” Bryce's look shifted to Rose. “No offense.”

“None taken,” she murmured.

Rose felt a laugh bubbling within her throat. Why shouldn't Beth have someone in her life? From everything she'd learned about her aunt and seen firsthand since she'd arrived, Bryce probably had trouble keeping up with the woman.

This was wonderful. Her life was finally in order. Matt was going to stick by her, not because he had to but because he wanted to. She'd finally found someone to love her and to love back, and it appeared that Beth had done the same, too.

Like Queen Victoria holding court in her bedchamber, Beth made herself comfortable against the head-board. She smiled benevolently at the young couple in front of her.

“So I take it you've both come to your senses and decided to stop all this foolish behavior. Am I right?”
She didn't wait for an answer; she could tell by the looks on their faces. “It's about time.” Beth looked from one to the other. “There's more?”

Rose nodded, pressing her lips together to rein in her exuberance. She wanted to shout the announcement from the top of the tallest building in New York. Beth's bedroom was going to have to do.

“We're getting married.”

“Hallelujah!” Beth clapped her hands together enthusiastically. “This calls for a celebration. Matt, be a dear and hand me my robe.” She extended her hand, indicating the electric-blue kimono on the back of her vanity chair. “Can't exactly pour champagne au naturel now, can we?”

Rose had no trouble visualizing that and knew it was something that her aunt was more than capable of. Before Matt could reach for the robe, Rose got it for her. Then she hooked her arm through Matt's and turned him toward the opposite wall as Beth donned the robe.

The woman, Matt thought, was clearly a pistol. He grinned and whispered to Rose, “Maybe we can persuade your aunt to come to Mission Creek for a visit. I'm sure your father would love having her and Bryce around for a few weeks.”

That would certainly bring out the fireworks, Rose thought. She knew exactly how her father would react to her aunt arriving with a man young enough to be
her son. Archy Wainwright had been born old and judgmental.

Rose grinned. “It'd certainly take the heat off the two of us for a while.”

Oblivious to where he was, aware only of her, Matt slipped his arms around Rose, nuzzling her. “I
never
want the heat off us.”

Coming up behind them, Beth placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “So, shall we go look for that special bottle of champagne, dears?”

Rose turned around and looked at her aunt quizzically. “Special bottle?”

“Yes. I have a rare old bottle I've been saving for an occasion such as this.” Leading the procession, Beth swept out of her bedroom. “I put it on ice the evening you turned up on our doorstep, Matthew.”

Mystified, Matt asked, “Why?”

She spared him a knowing glance. “Because I knew that this was going to have a happy ending. The Carson boys are nothing if not determined.”

Stubborn jackasses was the way her father described them, Rose thought. But her aunt sounded as if she was speaking from firsthand knowledge.

Rose looked at her aunt. “How would you know?”

Beth inclined her head, her eyes indicating the young man who was bringing up the rear. “Now is not the time to go into details, my dear. I'll save that story for another time,” she promised, then raised her
voice. “Come along, Bryce. You can make the toast.”

Obligingly, Bryce moved up to the head of the line beside Beth. Rose caught a whiff of cologne as he passed her and it jarred something in the back of her mind. Her eyes widened as she remembered the mugger near the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Her mouth fell open as her eyes shifted from Bryce and met Beth's.

Very slowly, Beth smiled.

Rose could only shake her head.

“To the kitchen, shall we?” Beth urged.

But as they were about to enter, the doorbell rang.

“Who could that be at this hour?” Rose asked.

Brightening, Beth changed direction and headed for the front door. “That's what I love about New Yorkers. They really do never sleep.” She raised her voice. “Who is it?”

“Justin Wainwright, Aunt Beth,” the deep male voice on the other side of the door announced. “I've come for Rose.”

R
ose stared at Matt, wide-eyed and stunned. “What is my brother doing here?”

Though there was no way he could have heard her, the answer to her question came through the door. “Let me in, Aunt Beth. I heard that Matt Carson was looking for her.”

Beth silently indicated to Bryce to usher Matt and Rose out onto the terrace and to close the curtains. While he did that, she stalled for time.

“Why would he do that?” she asked through the door.

“C'mon, Aunt Beth, just open the door and let me in.”

Beth glanced back toward Bryce, who nodded. With the prey safely hidden, she opened the door and threw her arms around her nephew in an enthusiastic embrace.

“Justin, it's been far too long. C'mon, give your aunt a little love.”

Dutifully, he hugged her, though clearly it was awkward for him. Like his father, Justin, Beth knew, wasn't given to demonstrative affection.

Justin stepped back and around. “Is Rose asleep?” He started toward the rear of the apartment.

“No, Rose isn't asleep. Rose is gone,” Beth informed him innocently.

Justin pivoted back on his heel. Though there was a stubborn core to Rose, his sister wasn't given to adventures. She wouldn't have just taken off like that.

“Rose is gone?” he echoed. “What do you mean? It's seven in the morning. Why isn't she in her bed?”

He strode down the hallway, opening doors.

Beth followed his progress with a growing anxiety she did her best to hide. She sincerely hoped that the two people on the balcony would connect the dots and figure out that she'd had Bryce place them there because of the immediate proximity to her neighbor's balcony. There was a small common wall that could easily be climbed. The Van Holdens were in Europe. She'd mentioned that just yesterday and now hoped one of them remembered.

“What the hell is this?” Justin's voice boomed when he took in the scene in Rose's room. The bed was a tangled heap of linens and pillows, while the floor was littered with discarded clothing—Rose's and a man's shirt.

Justin picked up the shirt with his fingertips. He held it aloft as if it were Exhibit A in a crime scene investigation. He looked at Beth.

“Now, Justin, Rose is a grown woman. Don't you think she's got a right to come and go as she pleases
with whomever she pleases without first checking in and running it by me?”

Disgusted, Justin tossed the shirt onto the bed. His face was dour as he said, “The last time she came and went as she pleased, she got herself in the family way. And talk is the baby belongs to that Carson bastard.”

The conversation had an incredible feel of déjà vu for Beth. She was suddenly in her father's house, listening to both her father and her brother Archy rave, airing their disapproval of the man she was seeing at the time, a wonderfully gifted Native American who didn't meet their standards.

She took umbrage for Matt just as the doorbell rang again. She waved Bryce off to the door.

“Be a dear, Bryce,” she requested, then turned to look at her nephew. “Matt Carson isn't a bastard, he's a perfectly nice young man.” Justin looked at her in astonishment. She fisted her hands at her waist. Nothing made her angrier than unwarranted prejudice. “Something you would find out if you ever sat down and talked to him.”

“Then he has been here?” Justin demanded.

“Where's my brother?”

At the sound of another angry voice, Beth and Justin turned to see Flynt Carson striding into the room. The latter spared a frosty glance and nod toward the young man, then took off his hat as he looked at Beth.

“Where's my brother?” he repeated, tagging on a “ma'am,” to the end of his inquiry.

It wasn't hard for Beth to figure out who this one belonged to. He had Matt's bone structure. If she wasn't careful, she was going to have an old-fashioned free-for-all right here in her apartment.

Beth placed a hand to her breast, looking toward Bryce. “Oh, my. If I knew I was going to have so many visitors, I would have arranged to have breakfast sent in.” Still stalling for time, she pretended not to know her latest visitor. “And you are?”

“Flynt Carson, ma'am. I've come looking for my little brother, Matt. Word has it that he's here.”

Beth spread her hands wide, the sleeves of her kimono all but dragging on the floor. “I'm afraid not. As I was telling my nephew, there's no one inside this apartment but Bryce, you boys and me.” She punctuated her declaration with an innocent look.

Justin scowled. “Then exactly where is Rose? C'mon, Aunt Beth, you've got to know.”

“Where's Matt?” Flynt pressed. Shouted, the questions overlapped one another.

With a sigh, Beth pretended to think. And then her eyes brightened as if the idea had just occurred to her. “You might try city hall.”

“City hall?” Flynt demanded. It was half question, half gasp. When he'd told Matt to stop moping around and go after the woman who'd dumped him, he'd had no idea that he was telling him to go after a Wain
wright. Damn it, why didn't the kid tell him? He would have never sent his brother after her if he'd known. Matt was always too closemouthed for anyone's good.

“Yes,” Beth said, happy the thought had come to her. It was going to be the quickest way to get the men out of her apartment. She gave the duo a significant look. “And you might just think about calling each other brother-in-law.”

The responses were quick and to the point.

“The hell we will.”

“Not in a million years.”

Beth folded her hands serenely, burying them beneath the sleeves of her kimono.

“I'd suggest that you boys seriously rethink those sentiments. There's a baby on the way that's part Wainwright, part Carson. Can't play tug-of-war with a baby. I'd say that baby is the best argument for mending that fence, or burying that hatchet or whatever silly metaphor you want to use for finally making things right between all of you again.”

Her lecture at an end, Beth looked expectantly from one handsome face to the other. What she'd told them she meant from the bottom of her heart, but after more than her share of husbands and lovers, she knew the way a man's mind worked. Say “black,” the response almost always will be “white.” At this point, she just wanted them to leave so she could retrieve the lovebirds from wherever they had flown.

Justin looked at Flynt, hope suddenly flashing through his veins. He clung to it. “Maybe they're not married yet.”

The thought sparked the two men into action and they turned as one toward the door.

“See you boys at Christmas,” Beth called after them as they hurried away.

Bryce walked up behind Beth and slipped his arms around her waist. He nuzzled against her. “When do you think they'll figure out that city hall isn't open yet?”

Beth laughed. “Hopefully not before they're halfway downtown.”

 

The sound of raised voices coming from inside the apartment had increased. Matt recognized the new one first.

“That's my brother,” he whispered to Rose. This couldn't be happening, he thought. “What the hell is Flynt doing here?”

“Probably looking for you,” Rose said. “Hoping to stop you from making a horrible mistake.”

He didn't want her talking like that, or thinking like that. Matt took her into his arms. “The only mistake I ever made was letting you go in the first place. I should have stood my ground and followed my heart.”

The voices were getting angrier. She knew what
her brother's temper was like when he was finally pushed to the limit. Not a pretty sight.

She indicated the wall. “Right now, I suggest we follow the yellow brick road before one of us winds up getting tarred and feathered.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I wouldn't let anything happen to you. Besides, I can handle my brother.”

“I was thinking of mine. He takes after my father when it comes to being reasonable.”

That said it all for Matt. “Then let's not give him a chance to catch us.”

After climbing over the common wall, Matt picked up Rose and lifted her over to the other side. He grabbed her hand and crossed to the terrace door.

He tugged on it. It was locked.

Rose bit her lower lip. “I think Aunt Beth said they were away on a trip. Now what?”

“Now we see if my bad boy days paid off.” He looked around for something small to use, then remembered the paper clip he had in his wallet. He'd put it on some scraps of business papers he wanted to hold together. Taking his wallet out, he pulled off the clip and straightened it to use on the lock.

After several moments the lock clicked and the door gave.

Rose could only shake her head. “You are a constant source of surprise to me.”

“Always a good thing in a marriage,” he assured her.

Slipping into the darkened living room, he closed the door behind them as silently as he could. “Sure hope your aunt's right about the people being away on vacation,” he whispered against Rose's ear.

“I think she said they were going to Europe. I think it's a safe bet that they won't be back in the next ten minutes.”

“Europe, huh?” His eyes slid over her as he suddenly recalled what she had on under her robe. “Well, then, what I've got in mind is going to take more than ten minutes.”

Her eyes widened, but her smile was pure seduction. “But our brothers are next door.”

He was already undoing the sash at her waist. “We won't ask them in.”

A thrill went over her as the sash came undone and her robe parted invitingly. “Matt, this is positively decadent.”

He was already coaxing the robe from her bare shoulders, kissing each as it became denuded. “It'll make a nice story to tell little whose-it-what's-it when he or she finally gets here.”

“You can't tell stories like that to our child.” She couldn't resist him any longer. “What will she think of us?”

Matt laughed against her hair, his hands caressing her, making her crazy. “He'll think that maybe his
parents aren't the stick-in-the-muds all kids think their parents are.”

“She.”

“He.” He nipped her mouth. “Hell, we'll get one of each.”

She was having trouble concentrating. “Doesn't always happen that way.”

He pressed a ring of small, flowering kisses along her jawline, working his way to her neck. “We'll keep working at it until it does.”

“Is this your way of keeping me barefoot and pregnant?” she asked thickly.

“Nope.” The robe floated to the floor as he embraced her. “Just naked.”

Rising up on her toes, she brought her mouth to his. “Sounds good to me.