Holly Read online

  Her hand was on the newel post (solid mahogany), but her feet weren’t moving. Below her, she could hear laughter and the clink of glassware.

  There was business she had to take care of now, she thought, business that couldn’t wait, and that was Nick Taggert. Grimacing, cursing him for ruining her first night in the wonderful old house, she tiptoed down the stairs. Since her heels were so high, that wasn’t easy, but she managed to do it. “If my arches fall because of you, Nick Taggert…” she muttered.

  Downstairs, she paused and glanced into the sitting room and saw everyone smiling at Lorrie. Even her father was smiling and this warmed Holly. Her father never smiled at Taylor’s fiancé.

  “Better and better,” Holly murmured. Everyone liked the man she liked. The only problem now was Nick Taggert. All she had to do was get rid of him and all obstacles would be out of her way. By the end of the summer—no, she thought—by Christmas she planned to be mistress of Belle Chere.

  And married to Lorrie, she added.

  By the time she got outside, her temper was at the boiling point. She was not going to allow some redneck who she’d had a brief fling with ruin her life!

  She ran across the lawn to the van, but Nick wasn’t there. “Nick!” she hissed. She could see inside the house, saw her family still laughing and Lorrie pouring drinks from a pitcher. If Holly weren’t running around outside with the mosquitoes, she could have been inside sipping something cold and lethal, and inspecting the condition of the ceiling molding.

  Angrily, she hiked her dress up to her knees and ran down the path to the dairy. No Nick. However, the dairy looked to be in good condition.

  Hissing “Nick” now and then, she hurried to the icehouse. Empty. She went across the lawn to the old office. It was locked and looked as though the roof needed work.

  There was no one there. Sweat coated her body.

  I should go inside now, she thought, gently wiping her face, trying not to mess up her makeup. I can talk to the man tomorrow. I can—

  She broke off because she saw a shadow move through the parterres—the big, boxed-in gardens that had once been so beautiful. In the middle of the first two had been marble fountains. Maybe she should just glance at them and see if the fountains were all right.

  Hiking up her skirt again, but walking sedately so she didn’t sweat more, she went down the crunchy gravel path toward the garden.

  Nick was standing by a marble fountain of a little boy. Holly knew there were two fountains, one on each side, and they were of two little boys, brothers, who’d both died in a boating accident in 1821. Their bereaved parents had the fountains carved in Italy and sent to Belle Chere.

  Holly walked toward Nick, ready to have it out with him, but something happened as she looked at him. The moonlight fell over him, turning his dark hair a silvery blue. Shadows were cast over his broad shoulders and down his long legs.

  Her step quickened and when it did, the sweat began to trickle down between her breasts.

  When Nick turned and saw her, Holly began to run. When Nick smiled at her, she ran faster. When he opened his arms to her, she leaped over the boxwood hedge and when she nearly fell, he caught her.

  His lips were on hers in a second and in the next she was backed up against the fountain, her skirt around her waist. Deftly, Nick unsnapped the crotch of her teddy, her pantyhose tore—and he was in her.

  She threw a leg around his hip, his hands were on her bottom, and he drove into her. She felt as though she were starving and only this man could feed her. She clawed at him as she pulled him closer and closer, as she rose to meet his every thrust in a frenzy of need and desire.

  When he came, she was with him, and she collapsed against him. Nick pulled her up until both her legs were around his hips and he held her to him.

  Holly buried her face in his sweaty neck and hugged him with both arms and both legs. And this hugging was almost more intimate than what they’d just done.

  Oh, heavens, but she’d missed him, she thought. She hated to think that, to know that, but she had missed him.

  “You can’t stay here,” she whispered into his neck.

  “Sssh,” he said, then put his hand on her hair. “What the—Ow! I think your hair just cut my hand.”

  “Very funny,” she said, but she laughed—and when she did, he came out of her.

  “Uh-oh,” Nick said, kissing her neck. “Why don’t we go—”

  That sobered her. She got off his body and tried to regain her dignity—which was impossible under the circumstances. Her hose were torn and she could feel them starting to move down. Her teddy was unsnapped and it was inching upward. Also, she realized that this was the second time they’d had unprotected sex. The first time was in her car and now tonight.

  Standing in front of him, pressed up against a marble fountain of a tragically killed child, it was all too much for Holly. “You have to leave here,” she said, close to tears. “You can’t stay. I have plans for my life that don’t include you.”

  Once he’d fastened his trousers, Nick stepped back and gestured toward the house. “You’re free. I haven’t interfered and I won’t. Your life is your own.”

  She took a breath. “Why are you here?”

  “For the job, of course.”

  She put both hands over her face, tried to calm herself, then looked back at him. They both knew he was lying. He’d come there for her. “Okay, so I’m attracted to you. We’ve proven that. But then, so are lots of women attracted to you. Taylor is going crazy over you.”

  “Too skinny. Too aggressive,” he said. “I like my women—”

  When he reached out to her, she stepped back. “Nick! I am not your woman and never will be. Look, I can get you another job. You can work for someone a lot better tempered than my father. You’ll make more money. You’ll—”

  “No thanks,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “I like it here and your dad’s okay. He spent about an hour today explaining what really happened at the Bay of Pigs invasion. Interesting man.”

  Holly opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t. She’d thought that she could get her father to fire him, but if Nick was listening to and enjoying her father’s stories, there was no hope Nick would be discharged.

  “Italy!” Holly said. “How’d you like to work there? Sunshine and olives.”

  “Nope.”

  She leaned back against the fountain. “Why are you doing this to me? You must have gone to a lot of trouble to find out my father needed help. Why?”

  Nick looked up at the moon for a moment, then back at her. “Curiosity maybe. I wanted to find out some things.”

  “Please tell me you aren’t in love with me.”

  “I don’t think so.” He looked at her breasts. “Lust, yeah, but not love.”

  Part of Holly didn’t like that. But then, didn’t every woman want every man to declare love for her?

  She straightened her shoulders and smoothed her skirt. She’d need privacy to fix the mess her undergarments were in. “This won’t happen again. This was—” She couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “So this guy’s already asked you to marry him?”

  “Of course not. Tonight’s the first time I’ve seen him.”

  “Then what’s the problem? Your sister’s planning her wedding, but she’s been hanging around the tool shed and making me propositions that you wouldn’t believe. She—”

  “Careful!” Holly said. “I won’t listen to any disparagement of my sister.”

  “The point is that you’re not going with anybody, you’re not engaged or married, and you’re an adult, so why not fool around with the lawnmower boy? Maybe I could give you some pointers about how to reel ol’ Lorrie and his mansion in.”

  In spite of her common sense, Holly was intrigued by this statement. “Such as?”

  Nick shrugged. “Men talk. I could share what I hear with you.”

  “No offense, but I doubt if Lorrie is going to tell his most intimate secrets to s