not at the age where you get wiser yet. You have to go through other stages first, like the ones where you dream too big, then have your hopes crushed and get scared.”
“What are you scared of?” She seemed so self-contained, in her neat domestic world, it was hard to imagine her being afraid of anything.
She shrugged, then hugged herself for a second. “Life not working out the way I hope it will. I think we’re both in the phase of life where you start to realize it’s now or never for a lot of things.”
“You sound like my mom. She thinks if I don’t have children this calendar year the Drummonds will vanish from the face of the earth and we’ll both grow old and wizened alone together.”
“I guess that’s what she’s scared of. I don’t suppose you ever grow wise enough to stop worrying about some things. What are you afraid of?”
She fixed her steady blue gaze on him, expecting nothing less than the truth.
“Failure.” He responded with honesty. “For all my success in business, I haven’t succeeded where it matters most.”
She looked at him, her eyes filled with understanding. “You want to have a family, and you’re worried you never will.”
“At this point I’m pretty sure I never will.” She was so easy to talk to. He didn’t feel the need to put on an impenetrable facade with her. “I’ve already tried twice and I know when to admit failure. If my marriage prospects were a publicly traded company I’d be dumping the stock.” A smile crept to his mouth, despite his dismal confession. “Wouldn’t you?”
“No.” She hesitated, and a smile danced in her eyes. “But I’d be looking at how to enhance my business strategy for an increased chance of success. Perhaps a new approach to management, with more carefully selected principals.”
He laughed. “You mean I need better taste in women.”
She shrugged. Moonlight sparkled off her smooth skin. “Worth a try, at least.”
Was Annie the right woman for him? The question hung in the still night air. No doubt she was wondering the same. No one sensible would recommend that a man of his background and position look for love with an “uneducated housekeeper”—but Annie was so much more than the sum of those two dismal words. What she lacked in formal education she’d obviously made up for with reading widely and observing closely. His previous marriages had proved that choosing a highly educated and ambitious mate was not necessarily a recipe for success.
“Where are we headed?”
Her question startled him. “I don’t know. I only know that I enjoy your company immensely. And I think you’re the sweetest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
She stared for a moment, than laughed softly. “I appreciate your frank answer, but I meant, where are we rowing to? The lights from the party are totally out of sight.”
“Don’t worry. I know the Sound like the back of my hand. Rather better, in fact. Who really knows the back of their hand, anyway?” He smiled mysteriously.
“You still haven’t answered my question.” She tried to look stern, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Some people would be very nervous about being sailed off with in the dark with no idea where they’re going.”
“Are you nervous?”
“A little.”
He wanted to reach out and reassure her, but couldn’t take his hands off the oars. “We’re going to the private dock of a friend of mine. I keep a boat there, in fact. It’s just around this next headland.” He gestured out into the darkness. You couldn’t see anything now but dark, shimmering water and the broad cloak of stars over their heads, but he knew the curve of the coast like the face of an old friend.
At last the wooded shore beckoned, and he steered the boat into the familiar sheltered cove, where broad stone steps joined the water to the vast lawn of his friend’s Victorian summer house. The house itself was shrouded in darkness, but moonlight illuminated the stone terraces with their sheltered seating areas. He docked the boat and tied it to one of the big, cast iron mooring rings. Annie giggled as he helped her to her feet so she could make a bold leap out of the boat, with her skirts gathered in one hand.
She glanced around. “I feel like we’ve landed at the Taj Mahal.”
“I think that’s what the architect intended. My friend’s great-great-grandfather imported tea from India and wanted to recreate the pavilions of Assam here on Long Island.” He led her through a stone archway to a row of cushioned seats that lined one side of the terrace.
“This should be more comfortable than the boat.” He helped her sit down on the plush cushions. An ornately painted pavilion sheltered them from the moonlight, which filtered through the trees around them.
“I’m slightly worried that you brought me here to take advantage of me.” She raised a slim brow.
“I brought you here so we could be alone together. That doesn’t seem to be possible even in my own house right now.”
“I think it’s sweet the way you’re taking care of your mom. They always say you can tell everything you need to know about a man by the way he treats his mother.”
“Then maybe I’m not quite so dastardly as legend would have you believe.”
She paused and looked at him. “I already know you’re kind and thoughtful.”
He laughed. “Maybe not as much as you think. It’s possible that you have good reason to be worried for your virtue. Any man would be hard-pressed to resist the temptation of being alone in the dark with you.”
In the privacy of the pavilion he let his hungry gaze roam over her, drinking in her soft skin, her gentle eyes, her lush, full mouth. Even her throat looked beautiful, and he fought the urge to kiss the curve of her neck, which sloped down to her pert, high breasts encased so enticingly in the silvery silk.
“As a woman, I have to admit I’m fighting my primal instincts to keep my hands off you, too.” A mischievous smile danced in her eyes. “You look very hot in a tux.”
He chuckled. “I can’t encourage you to fight your instincts. I’m sure it’s far healthier to indulge them.”
“So you think I should give in to the urge to loosen your tie and collar?”
“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” A slow smile crept across his mouth. “But there’s only one way to find out.”
His muscles tightened as she reached up and tugged at one side of his silk bow tie. He could smell the subtle scent of her skin. He loved that she never wore perfume, and why would she? Her natural aroma was as intoxicating as the finest fragrance.
Her fingertips brushed his skin as she unbuttoned his collar, and sent a shiver of rich desire rolling through him. This really wasn’t a good idea. He’d regretted sleeping with her the first time. It felt fantastic while they were writhing around on the bed together, but only moments later he was gripped by an agony of regret.
Why?
Right
