Wicked Forest (18 page)

cosmopolitan on the rocks." He laughed.

"You're enjoying this too much," I said with suspicion. "Is it because of me or because you're getting sweet revenge?"

"Mostly because of you." he replied, "but I won't deny I'll enjoy the sweet revenge."

"That's just great, Thatcher. How am I ever supposed to get along with your family if you rub me in their faces like so much hot pepper?"

"Oh, they'll get over it and take you in with as much sincerity as they are capable of showing." he replied. "Besides. Willow, you're marrying me, not my whole family."

"You know that's not realistic. Thatcher. Let's make a pact right now and promise to try never to fool each other." I told him.

He nodded. "Okay," he said softly. "You're right. I won't gloat. Once my family understands I am serious and we are for real, things will change. That's realistic." he assured me. "Speaking of which, we should think about a wedding date."

"I'm starting college soon," I said "I've met with my advisor and I have my schedule. The semester ends in early June."

"Good. So let's use that as a plan. Why don't we think of a late June wedding? I want to make a honeymoon reservation for us in Eze village in southern France, at a place called the Château de la Chevre d'Or, It's like being in a storybook world. but I've got to do it well in advance."

My heart began to thump at the thought of planning it all. There was so much to do.

"Maybe it's all happening too fast." I said.

"We're moving back into the main house in May, and—"

You could always postpone that," Thatcher said quickly.

"No," I practically shouted. That would be all that Linden needed to hear. I thought. It would confirm all his dreads, "I've promised my mother and Linden, and they are looking forward to it now.

Thatcher. I'd much rather postpone our wedding a few months," I told him firmly.

"I understand," he said. "Well. I don't think it will present any serious problems anyway. We have plenty of time to do everything."

"We could always just elope," I said, and he laughed,

"We could, but we'd have to have a real wedding anyway."

―Why‖

"Why.? This is Palm Beach, Willow, Get used to it. You're a part of Palm Beach society now. That will be confirmed and stamped in tomorrow's papers."

"Is that all it takes?" I asked.

"All? You heard Suzy Q. You've corralled the most eligible stallion on the beach. Get ready. Your phone's going to ring off the hook, too."

―Why?‖

"Invitations," he said. "Everyone is going to want a piece of you. You'll see. We're both going to be the most sought-after guests of honor.'

"Is that good?"

"It's good for me and my career, and what's good for me. Willow, will be good for you," he replied.

I sat back wondering if I'd really and truly understood what I was getting into when I agreed to marry Thatcher. I looked at him, smiling and happy, a handsome and accomplished young man whose love for me was apparently so overwhelming, he couldn't tolerate the thought of any delays.

"Don't look so worried," he said, and reached out to take my hand. "I'll always protect you from the sharks that swim on shore. What good is having a husband who's an attorney if he can't do that?"

"I'm not worried for myself." I said. He nodded with understanding.

"We'll take care of everyone now. Willow, you and I. We'll bring the glitter of joy back to Java del Mar, where it belongs, where it should be forever and ever" He smiled. "Did I tell you how sexy you look in that dress tonight?"

Not enough," I said, and he laughed,

"Hey, the night is just beginning," he told me, and turned onto the road that would take us to our beach-house rendezvous.

His pager rang as we entered. He looked at it and nodded. "Your mother?" I asked.

"I'm surprised it took this long. Must have been a jam up on the phone lines or something."

"Are you going to call her?"

"No, not tonight. We're closing the door on all that out there. In here, it's just you and me," he said, and pulled me to him to kiss me. "I couldn't think of anything else if I tried, Not with you in my arms looking like you do." He kissed me again, then scooped me up and carried me, laughing, to the bedroom.

"What's left for the honeymoon?" I asked as he began to undress.

He paused and smiled.

"Wait until we're there on that mountain looking down at the sea. Then you'll know that every day we're together will be better than the day before.

This," he said, kneeling beside the bed, just the coming attractions."

"Sounds more like a movie than a marriage."

"Our marriage will always be a romance.

Willow," he promised, and kissed me on the tip of my nose as he rose slowly to lie down beside me and make love to me.

I once overheard my adoptive mother tell one of her closer friends that when you made love with your eyes closed all the time, you were trying to forget the man you were with and replace him with either some fantasy or someone you wished you were with. Her friend said if that was true, she hadn't made love with her husband for years. They both laughed, and then my adoptive mother shocked me by saying she'd never made love to her husband: "Even on our honeymoon. I replaced him behind my eyelids."

Their laughter felt like bee stings.

If my adoptive mother was right and was at least to be trusted when it came to something like making love. I had nothing to fear about my feelings for Thatcher.

Yes, his kisses and his caresses closed my eyes, and his hot breath on my neck made me tingle with pleasure and anticipation. but I loved looking at him.

He was truly a handsome man, and when I watched him soaking in pleasure, he would open his eyes, too, and look into mine and smile and say, "You're so beautiful. Willow. You're so fresh and special."

If something were to happen and we were not together forever and ever, and if I was with someone else. I thought, I would most likely close my eyes all the time and behind my lids see Thatcher Eaton.

Such was the magic that jolted between us. We were like two sticks rubbed together to spark a flame that grew so hot and bright, it threatened to consume us in ourselves. Afterward, both of us needed a few minutes to catch our breath, to cool down our bodies and come back to earth. Still embracing me, he held me against his body and breathed normally. I had my back to him.

"Tell me about Kirby Scott now, Thatcher.

What was he like? What did he say about my mother and Linden?"

Thatcher slipped his arm out from under me and turned onto his back to look up at the ceiling. I spun around to face him and propped myself up on my elbow.

"I will say this," he began, "there is something to be said for the life of a rake. Never really warning-

about anything, living the free life without responsibility or conscience, has kept him looking remarkably young. What aging there is in his face just distinguishes him, When I first set eyes on him. I thought this must be a different Kirby Scott, The man I was looking to meet had to be in his early sixties at least. I mean, he was married to your grandmother.

"Then I remembered he was about five years younger. Maybe he was even younger than that, but lied about his age. Who knows? The reality was, I could understand how he continues to charm and beguile women years and years younger than he is.

He is presently the escort of Jill Littleton, Hunter Littleton's widow. Hunter was CEO of Mars Industries, the company that specializes in constructing airport malls. I did some work for her two years ago, and that's how I arranged to have the face-to-face with Kirby."

"But what was he like?" I pursued, impatient.

He was a cocky, confident son of a bitch. He had some idea about why I wanted to see him, but that didn't shake him a bit, at least so I could see. He wore a blue sports jacket, white pants, and Italian loafers without socks. He flaunts his gold in a thick necklace and a gold bracelet that looks like it could be used as the anchor of a battleship. He had a pinky ring with an emerald the size of a Ping-Pong ball."

"I'm happy you noticed all of his jewelry, Thatcher, but what was he like?"

Thatcher laughed.

"Hey, I can't help being impressed with all that, especially on a thief. That's all he really is, a glamorized thief.

He was crafty and oh, so polite and refined. He tried to show his concern about Grace. How was she?

He wished he could visit her and see Linden, but he didn't think it would do either of them any good. The way he spoke about those days, he has either convinced himself or perfected the fabrication that he was young and innocent and impressionable.

According to him. Jackie Lee took advantage of him, used him, and then, as if he were something disposable, threw him aside to have extramarital flings.

"Frustrated and alone, he claims, he was vulnerable to Grace's young charm. She worshiped and admired him so much it made his head spin, and he gave in to temptation. Yadda. yadda..." Thatcher added, waving his hand in the air.

"I got into the business about my mother, and that's when his disposition and confidence took a nosedive. His lips actually began to tremble with his denials: If I was seeking to start some sort of lawsuit...

on and on, until he produced some hard evidence that I could follow up and, as I told you. confirm,

"We returned to talking about Grace and Jackie Lee. He claimed Grace was always quite an introverted girl, had few friends and hardly socialized.

She was content living through his experiences and would sit for hours and hours to hear him describe his travels, his adventures. He made himself sound like Othello charming Desdemona with tales of battle and journeys to exotic lands.

"Of course. according to him, he never realized how attached to him she was becoming. She was a very beautiful young woman, and when she enticed him, he weakened. Once he realized what he had done, he says, he made the decision himself to leave Joya del Mar,

"I told him if he continued to spread such a fantastic tale, especially now. I would indeed take him to court. He surprised me by 'mowing all about you and confidently declared that your existence and Grace's affair at some clinic demonstrated the truth of what he was saying and had been claiming as a defense. In other words. he wasn't a bit frightened of me when it came to that and. instead. suddenly showed great interest in you."

"In me?" "He was intrigued and began asking all sorts of questions."

"Like what?"

"Just questions." Thatcher replied quickly. "I told him if he should so much as come within ten yards of you. I would personally put him in a permanent coma. I wanted to leap over the table at that point and choke him. but Jill came out and I had to be civilized. My eyes continued the hot threat. and I'm sure he understood I was serious.

"Anyway. I followed up on his information, leading me to the wonderful conclusion that he is by no stretch of the imagination my father. After having met him and seen what a shrewd, conniving, and unfortunately charming rogue he can be. I was happy to disprove what my sister and my mother were trying to convince me to believe. It made me even angrier, and I told my sister off like I have never told her. By the time I was finished. she was crying over the phone."

"I hope they weren't crocodile tears," I said. and he laughed.

"Amway. for now it might be better if you didn't tell Grace and especially Linden that Kirby is in Palm Beach, I'm sure he won't be here long. Jill has her own luxury ship and was already talking about going over to Barbados." Thatcher said.

I agreed.

Afterward. when we returned to Joya del Mar, he walked me down to the beach house. We kissed and said good night. He told me that as soon as he returned from Miami, he would call and we would begin to plan our wedding.

"I want Grace to do as much as she wants," he said, "but let's keep the pressure off her. too."

"Will your mother want anything to do with it?"

I wondered aloud.

"You can be sure she will," he assured me. "It's a Palm Beach high event. She won't be able to ignore it. In fact. I'll make this prediction right now: We'll have our hands full keeping her from taking over the entire affair."

"Don't worry. I'll see she doesn't do that." He laughed.

"Don't underestimate the tenacity of a Palm Beach socialite when the opportunity to ring bells, direct spotlights, and impress the town comes up." he warned,

"I should think our wedding will be more special," I said.

"That's the point. So will she. You'll see," he said with a chuckle. He kissed me again, and returned to the main house.

When I stepped onto our loggia. I almost didn't see Linden sitting in the corner in the shadows. He didn't acknowledge me.

He sat so still. I was afraid he had wandered out in his sleep again and was actually asleep in the chair.

"Linden?"

Slowly, he turned, but he didn't speak.

"Why are you out here so late? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said with remarkable alertness.

"Sometimes, I like to stare out at the sta. Most people think it looks the same all the time, but they don't see the changes in the water, the movement of starlight and moonlight and even the fish. You can tell the future by studying the sea at night."

"How?"

"It takes practice. You learn by watching how far away the darkness stays, where it is. It comes from the horizon," he said, nodding toward it. "It's coming closer and closer. That's not good."

"Linden, you must not dwell on dark and sad things." I told him.

He gazed at me. I couldn't see his eyes, but I knew they were unmoving, intense.

"One way or another, he's going to remain in that house." he said. "Thatcher is going to remain.

That's a good reason why he proposed to you."

-Really, Linden. I don't think Thatcher's purpose is to keep living in Joya del Mar. Surely there are homes just as beautiful, if not more beautiful.

here.‖

He turned away.

"We're all going to be happy together. Linden.