Tomorrow Will Be Too Late (19 page)

As if on cue, the road turned in
to
a gentle curve, the view that greeted them silencing her momentarily. The red brick, elegant Georgian stood nestled among blooming magnolia trees, the dramatic outdoor lighting bathing the elegantly trimmed hedges of ligustrum and boxwood
in golden glow
. A brick
-
paved path led to the large black door,
the white portico with classic columns inviting
one
to step inside. Lush bushes of blooming hydrangeas in white, pink
,
and magenta added a much
-
needed splash of color, the large globes of the profuse blooms glowing in the light of the lanterns lining the manicured lawn.
Metal fence and a two-winged, elaborate gate allowed a glimpse of the driveway on the side of the house, the attached garage hidden under the canopy of blooming crabapples. A riot of crimson petals added drama to the already perfect scenery, making her think of a movie set from the thirties.

‘Here we are
.
’
H
e pressed a small remote button and the wrought
-
iron gate swung open noiselessly
to let
them in. ‘Welcome to my kingdom, Kate.’ His eyes went to her face, some expression she couldn’t really read coming and going through his handsome features.

The car rolled to a stop on the driveway, the silence that fell after he turned of
f
the ignition broken by the sound of rolling thunder, a storm brewing
over Puget Sound. The leaves on the trees rustled in the rising wind, the dry, anxious sound matching the storm raging inside her frame. She watched him exit the car and come over to open her door, his old
-
fashioned politeness perfectly fitting in
the
turn
-
of
-
the
-
century surroundings.

‘Just
in
time
.
’
He
watched her step out, her hands almost automatically pulling down the hem of her dress. If he found her belated modesty odd, he didn’t show it, his polite smile never once wavering as they walked up the paved path to the door.

The first droplets of rain splattered against the stones, multiplying rapidly as the thunder rolled again, this time much closer.
A cool breeze brought in more moisture, the faint salty taste of the ocean mixed into the fine mist. Kate shivered and regretted not
wearing
anything warmer than her sleeveless dress and a finely spun
shawl that
offered little protection.

His nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons on his security panel, the green light replacing the red one almost instantly. The intricately art nouveau
-
style doorknob gave way under the pressure of his palm, the door swinging open and letting her get her first look
at
the interior.

The large, black
-
and
-
white
-
tiled foyer tied beautifully with the
Old World
beauty of the place. Illuminated by a low
-
hanging chandelier
,
it seemed made for entertaining, Kate thought as she stepped forward, her high heels clicking against the
tiles
. She let her eyes travel over the walls hung with numerous pictures and a large gilded mirror, the ambience of the room prevalent in each and every detail.
A s
weet, intoxicating fragrance infiltrated the air,
vaguely familiar and yet
difficult to
recognize.

‘My aunt’s night jasmine,’ Justin explained wryly, pointing to the large,
elaborate
urns filled with manicured miniature trees, dark glossy leaves studded with countless
star
-
shaped
, white blooms. ‘
She
loved her flowers
,
and quite frankly
,
I didn’t have the heart to sort them out yet. Still, they started blooming about a week ago
,
and by now I am more and more certain some of my friends should be blessed with green gifts before I lose my sense of smell.’

‘They’re gorgeous
.
’
She
walked to the blooms, her eyes delighted at the delicate beauty
of the snow white, five
-
petal
stars. ‘I’ve never seen them
get
that big in
doors
, though.’

‘Well,
Aunt
Rose had a rather well
-
developed green thumb.’ He was much closer now, the heady scent of the flowers and the subtle
,
yet unmistakable
,
fragrance of his skin making her head spin.
His hand came to rest on her shoulder, the subtle pressure making it impossible to breathe freely. ‘How about
the
drink I promised you before?’

He wasn’t wasting any time, Kate thought almost
resentfully
, not quite sure what she was expecting. A guided tour of the house, maybe? There was not much of a point in doing so, she had to admit. The relationship was meant to last only so long
,
and therefore he didn’t need to ease her into his personal affairs at all. It had no place in their arrangement, and she knew it
perfectly well. Still, it would feel nice to see more than his bedroom and the bathroom.

‘Sure
.
’
She hoped nothing
in her face betrayed her disappointment as she turned back to him
with
a
non-committal
smile. ‘
Scotch with ice sounds great right now.’

She hated
S
cotch, she thought as he led her to a large family room, the marble floor replaced by warm, honey
-
colored wooden mosaic and oriental rugs dividing the large space into smaller, more intimate areas. She had never understood the appeal of strong alcohol, neither her stomach nor her head ready to deal with its taste and effects.
But it definitely eased the tension, taking off the edge that suddenly threatened her previous bravado. They were here, in his house, completely alone and about to make love. That was what she
had
offered and what he expected to happen, she thought as she allowed him to guide her to the cream
-
colored sofa, her legs
as
weak
as if they were
made of jelly.

Justin
moved to th
e sideboard
, the massive, dark
-
wood piece of furniture refreshingly simple and modern. Kate watched him pour her and himself a rather generous helping
of Scotch
, the amber
-
colored liquid glistening in the beautifully cut crystal glasses. It seeped
among
the ice cubes, rivulets of gold against their diamond
-
like transparent beauty. It looked much better than it tasted, she had to think, her hand eager to take
the
glass he offered.

He sat on the other sofa, the space between them divided by a simple coffee table, a stainless steel cube. Plain and geometric,
it held a woven, silver basket filled with peaches
.
She watched him take a sip of his drink, his lips eagerly reaching for the rim of his glass. If she
hadn’t known
any better
,
she’d think he was nervous, the slight tremble of his fingers catching her attention. But it couldn’t really be, she scolded herself instantly, her imagination running away with her once again.
She was talking about
Justin McBryndon, for God’s sake! He didn’t get nervous or
uneasy, and most certainly not over something like that. She had made it extremely easy on him,
hadn
’t she?

She wanted him to sit next to her. It all seemed so much easier when he was nearby. To her great annoyance
,
it seemed that the alcoho
l had the exact opposite
effect from what she was counting on. Instead of providing the blissful veil of intoxication, she felt more and more sober with each cautious little sip she took. With
it
came the realization of how harebrained her plan really was. How impossible and
insane she really was thinking she could go ahead with it, throwing away everything she believed in in her greedy pursuit of happiness.

‘Would you like me to make
a
fire?’ His question saved her from the
downward
spiral of
self-loathing
,
and she nodded, eager to distract herself from her gloomy thoughts. The house felt a bit on the cool side, she thought as
goose bumps
formed
on the sensitive skin of her arms and neck. It wasn’t uncomfortably cold
,
by any means, but
using
the large, stone fireplace that created the focal point of the space
made perfect sense
. Justin seemed to think so, his relief almost palpable as he added some logs to the wide opening, arranging them in a neat pile and starting the
fire
. The orange
flames
flickered over the thick wood
like
a small, wild animal searching for a spot to hide.

‘I’m not around
during the day
,
so the
thermostat
is set for a lower temperature,’ he explained
,
and she had to smile, remem
bering his ecological fervor. Of
course it was set on
energy-
saving mode
;
she wouldn’t have expected anything else
.
She
wanted to say
so
but restrained herself, afraid to sound cynical
.

‘
Why did you prefer it for tonight
,
then? Wouldn’t it be better to stay at your apartment downtown?’
s
he
asked, too curious to stop herself in time. The question kind of slipped out on its own, before she
had
the chance to think it
through
.

‘I’d rather be somewhere more private.’ He didn’t mind her questioning, she realized as she watched him get up from his knees and come back to the sofas. Only this time he chose to sit next to her, the space between them no more than a foot. ‘You see, I don’t bring women to my flat downtown
;
it’s my number one rule. Never have and never will.’ He must have noticed her doubts, because he smiled a quick, wry smile before he continued. ‘
That’
s my place for work, Kate.
I do stay there from time to time overnight, but usually prefer to come back here.
Especially with so much interest in my private life in recent years. The last thing I want is some overzealous journalist using this opportunity to write another sordid story about my apparently decadent lifestyle. It’s been done before, as you may remember?’

She did, of course. He used to be a popular target of the tabloid press, his good looks, money
,
and lack of interest
in
sharing his private life
an irresistible magnet for aspiring
writers
in town.

‘Well, it
i
s
very
nice here,’ she said awkwardly, very aware of his strong, muscular thigh only inches from her legs.

She glanced at the coffee table, the pink
-
orange peaches distracting her from the tension that thickened between
them
with each breath she took. Leaning forward, she took one
of the fragrant
, velvety fruits. It kept her hands busy and allowed her to hide her face, offering a momentarily
reprise
.
S
he understood perfectly what he meant with his explanation. His sex life and affairs with women were private, left for the reclusive safety of those thick, stately walls
.
With her not
-
so
-
subtle offer
,
she fell into the same category, most probably adding
to his already impressive statistics.

Biting into the peach
was
a mistake. She realized it almost instantly, the ripe fruit bursting with juice that
trickled down her chin and made its way to her throat and to the valley of her cleavage. It happened too fast for her to do anything but gasp as the cool, sticky liquid spread over her skin.