Night Whispers Read online

  “Wait,” Courtney said, trying to forestall her departure. “Why did you learn martial arts?”

  “To make up for my lack of height,” Sloan said lightly as she shoved her chair back and stood up; then she smiled down at her youthful hostess and said, “Thank you for the most memorable meal I’ve ever had. And thank you for making me feel like a member of your family.”

  It registered on Sloan that Courtney actually seemed at a loss for words for the first time since she’d set eyes on Sloan, but she was distracted by Noah who stood up and said, “I’ll walk you home.”

  In silence, Courtney and Douglas studied the pair as they strolled side by side across the lawn.

  Propping her bare feet on Noah’s chair, Courtney crossed them at the ankles and wriggled her toes, studying the brownish red lacquer she’d applied to her toenails. “Well?” she said finally. “What do you think of Sloan now?”

  “I think she’s lovely and utterly delightful,” Douglas replied. “I also think,” he added mildly as he stirred a spoonful of sugar into his coffee, “that you went beyond reasonable bounds with some of your comments. In the past, you’ve always exercised a modicum of restraint in front of strangers, but this morning, you didn’t.”

  “I know,” Courtney cheerfully agreed. “I was great! Noah should double my allowance for what I accomplished today.”

  “What do you think you accomplished?”

  “It’s—like—so obvious! I made Sloan relax. She was uptight at first, and who could blame her? I mean, she doesn’t know anyone in Palm Beach; she doesn’t even know her own family. She’s lived in a small town her entire life, she doesn’t know how to flirt, and you can bet she’s never had any money.”

  “I’m certain Carter provided very well for her mother and her.”

  “Well, if you’d have been listening to the way she answered my questions, instead of staring at her big, beautiful-”

  “Courtney!”

  “—eyes. I was going to say ‘eyes,’ ” she said truthfully. “Anyway, if you’d have been listening instead of staring, you’d have found out that her mother works as a clerk in a boutique and Sloan went to a local college and worked part-time. Are you following me so far? Can you see where I’m going with all this?”

  “Not yet, but I’m trotting along in your wake, trying to keep up.”

  Courtney rolled her eyes at his obtuseness. “Considering all the stuff she revealed about herself, can you imagine how overwhelmed she must be by Noah? I mean, besides the fact that he’s tall, dark, gorgeous, and sexy, he is also rich and sophisticated. I went to a lot of trouble to make him seem more normal and approachable to her.”

  “Ah, I see,” Douglas said dryly. “I suppose that explains why you found it necessary to refer to his ex-wife as ‘The Wicked Witch from the West’ and to imply that his mistress has buckteeth?”

  “I never referred to Nicole as his mistress!” Courtney protested indignantly. “The word ‘mistress’ has an elitist sound to it that might have scared Sloan off. I referred to her as ‘Nicole.’ ”

  She leaned forward to inspect a possible chip in her pedicure and sighed dramatically. “Poor Sloan. Noah is going to turn on the charm. He’ll take her out on one of the yachts, lavish her with attention, dazzle her with a trinket, and he’ll lure her into bed. She’ll fall for him, just like women always do; then she’ll find out he’s as hard as nails and the only thing he really cares about is making money. He’ll get too involved in ‘business’ to bother with her; she’ll sulk; he’ll get bored; then he’ll dump her and break her heart. You know,” she concluded cheerfully, “if I weren’t his loyal, devoted sister, I’d warn Sloan that he’s really a complete bastard!”

  • • •

  The shy self-consciousness that Sloan thought she’d overcome at breakfast began to return as he walked beside her, but Noah eased it by asking her if she liked to go sailing and then telling her about the time Douglas and Courtney nearly capsized in a storm off the coast of Nassau.

  Two houses away from her father’s house, a group of youngsters were building a sand castle. The youngest, a chubby little toddler of about a year and a half was still unsteady on his feet and trying valiantly to keep up with two older boys as he ran to the surf with his pail. He careened past Sloan on his return trip, tripped, and fell, his water spilling on the sand.

  “Need some help?” Sloan asked, crouching down to his level. Still clutching the handle of his pail in his fist, he rolled onto his rump, looked at her, and burst into wails of dismay. Sloan swept him up—baby, pail, and sand—and hugged him to her, laughing. “Don’t cry, little one,” she soothed, patting his back while the nanny, whom Sloan had spoken to earlier that morning, started forward and then stopped. “Don’t cry. We’ll help you.”

  He quieted, rubbed a sandy fist in his eyes, and hiccuped. Sloan put him down and took his free hand in hers. “We’ll help you,” she promised again, and looked at Noah. “We will, won’t we?” she said.

  Noah looked down into those beseeching pansy-blue eyes of hers and then at the baby’s hopeful brown ones. Silently, he reached for the pail. Sloan smiled at him. The baby smiled at him. His brain captured the moment like a snapshot.

  He wanted her.

  24

  “Children are so much fun to be around,” Sloan said a few minutes later as they walked away from the sand castle that was still under construction, with ample water now.

  “You are fun to be around,” he corrected her with a shrug that struck Sloan as significant.

  “Thank you. Don’t you like children?”

  “You’re welcome, and no I don’t.”

  “Really?” The informality of their breakfast conversation caused Sloan to ask him a question that made her feel ill-mannered as soon as she asked it. “Is that why you’ve never had any children?”

  “I was already twenty-five when Courtney was born, and she’s cured me of any illusions I might have had about wanting a child or about a child wanting me for a parent.”

  “I didn’t mean to pry,” Sloan said sincerely. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  “You may ask me anything you’d like, and I will be as honest and direct as I can. I’d prefer it that way.”

  Since breakfast, Sloan had been mentally preparing to give flirting her best shot, but now he was asking for honesty and straightforwardness, and that was as alarming as it was impossible. “Okay,” she said lamely.

  “That was your opportunity to assure me that I can ask you anything, and that you will also be honest and direct.”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Sloan said warily, and he gave a shout of laughter.

  “Let’s try it out, shall we?” He put a detaining hand on her arm and stopped her behind the hedge that concealed her father’s fence at the beach.

  “You mean, right now?”

  “Right now.” With startling directness, he said, “I’d like to spend time with you while you’re here. Starting with tonight.”

  “I can’t,” Sloan replied, sounding absurdly panicked to her own ears.

  “Why not?”

  “There are three very important reasons,” she said, getting control of her voice. “They are Paris, Paul, and Carter.”

  “Paris told me last night that you’re not romantically involved with Paul. I am not romantically involved with Paris, and since none of us are romantically involved with Carter, I don’t see this as an obstacle.”

  “I meant that I need to spend time with them.”

  “We can work that out. Is there anything else in the way of our getting to know each other?”

  “Like what?” Sloan asked evasively, but he saw through her ploy in an instant.

  “Let’s not play games with each other. I’ve already played them all, and you wouldn’t enjoy them even if you knew how to play them.”

  Stalling for time, Sloan looked at the small seashell she’d picked up on the beach and pretended to examine it. He waited in silence u