Beauty and the Bachelor(34)

     



 

"Hello, Caroline," he greeted, ignoring the heat in the brunette's scrutiny. "How are you?"

Her red-painted lips turned down in a pout he might have once found sexy  but that now annoyed him. "You can ask me that after you've become a  married man?" She ran a crimson fingernail down the lapel of his tuxedo  jacket. "I will be the first to admit, I didn't believe you would  actually go through with the marriage. But when you settle your mind on  something, you always get it, don't you, Lucas?" she murmured, glancing  up at him through the thick fringe of her lashes. "I remember how it  felt to be on the receiving end of that … determination."

Clearly she was into revising history. From what he recalled-and  honestly, it wasn't much-she hadn't been difficult to pursue or catch.  Gently but firmly removing her hand from him, he drawled, "And I don't  remember you being this tenacious-or hard of hearing. I'm married."

Anger brightened her gaze for a moment before she covered the  quicksilver emotion with another catlike smile. It was a wonder feathers  weren't poking out between her perfect teeth.

"Happily married, though?" she purred, setting off a warning tingle. One  of the reasons he'd ended their short association was due to her  manipulations. She didn't say or do anything without purpose. "I heard  the honeymoon might be over before it even started. More so since your  wife was seen with Tyler Reinhold only a week ago." She named the  restaurant where Sydney had met her mother at for lunch. "A cozy lunch?  Maybe reconciliation was the day's special?"

He arched an eyebrow, feigning disinterest when inside his stomach  clenched, twisted. Anger and the grime-coated stain of suspicion spread  inside his chest. "Spreading gossip, Caroline?" He tsked. "Business must  be slow."

Her tinkled laughter grated over his nerves like a rusty blade. "Not at  all. I'm never too busy to be concerned. Oh, hello, Sydney," she cooed  as his wife appeared at his side, her hand resting on the inside of his  elbow. "Belated congratulations on your marriage."

"Thank you," Sydney said, her tone cool.

"I was delighted you two could come tonight. Though I must admit I was  surprised to see you." A perplexed frown appeared between Caroline's  brows, an expert mimicry of concern. "A friend of mine told me you'd  already RSVP'd to the reception the Reinholds are holding after  tonight's ballet."

If he hadn't been so in tune to Sydney, he would've missed the subtle  stiffening of her body. Maybe he imagined it, but that insidious  suspicion hissed in his head that he hadn't. He wanted to tilt her head  back so he could study her expression, her eyes. Reassure himself that  his wife wasn't hiding something from him.

That she hadn't lied to him.

"That's the thing with gossip," Sydney pointed out, icicles dripping  from each word. "More often than not, it's unreliable. Or untrue. Which  is why I try not to indulge in such inane and childish pastimes."  Surprise slackened Caroline's sharp features at the polite but  dagger-sharp put-down. Her mouth curled into an ugly snarl, but before  she could utter a word, Sydney turned to him and smiled the Blake smile.  "George Gamble mentioned how much he would love to speak with you."

"I'm all yours and his," he murmured. Pride roared through him like a  lion, fierce, loud. Leaving Caroline fuming behind them, he escorted  Sydney across the room. As he entered into a surprisingly interesting  and engaging conversation with Anita Gamble's husband, he maintained an  arm around his wife.

For the rest of the evening, he tried to expel Caroline's catty remarks  from his head. But when he and Sydney returned home a couple of hours  later, the comments continued to loiter like ghosts refusing to go into  the light. But even if he somehow managed to dismiss Caroline's sly  innuendos, he couldn't erase the doubt they'd planted. No shovel or plow  could uproot that.

"Lucas."

He eased her coat from her shoulders, his fingertips brushing her bare shoulders. "Yes?"

"Do you want to talk about what Caroline said tonight?"

His jaw clenched, and he turned and hung their coats in the hall closet  before returning to her in the living room. Slipping his hands in the  front pockets of his pants, he studied her. The hint of nervousness  under cool composure. The flash of wariness in her eyes. And the  suspicion stretched its poisonous tentacles a little further.

"Is there something to talk about, Sydney?"         

     



 

She shook her head, and the gold and caramel caught the light of the single lamp.

"When I had lunch with Mom, unknown to me, she had arranged for Tyler to  show up at the restaurant. She'd also accepted an invitation to his  parents' reception on my behalf. I didn't find out any of this until  that afternoon." She held out her hands, the palms up in supplication.  "I meant to tell you. There was-is-nothing to hide. But when I came  home … it slipped my mind. We started talking about her, and then you took  me down to your study. And I truly forgot to mention it. I had no  intention of going to the reception or seeing Tyler again."

He didn't reply. Couldn't. On the surface, her reasons seemed plausible.  But in the interim-in the days that had passed since that day-why  hadn't she said anything? His mind was quick to supply ugly reasons.  Such as her intent to meet with her ex again. After all, he'd been the  reason she couldn't bring herself to be intimate with Lucas on their  wedding night. Did she still love him?

An image of his father solidified in his mind. Devastated, defeated.  Because of his love for a woman who'd broken his heart and trust time  after time with infidelity after infidelity.

Staring into her lovely face, he wanted to believe her. But his own  experience had taught him the consequences of giving trust so freely, so  cavalierly.

"Say something," she whispered.

"Let's go to bed," he murmured, holding out his hand.

After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand in his and allowed him  to lead her up the stairs to the bedroom. Where he removed her dress,  slid his hands over her body, made her come apart with his fingers,  mouth, and cock. And after their breathing returned to a semblance of  normal, and the perspiration dried on their skin, started all over  again.

Because here, he thought as he buried himself in the hungry, grasping core of her, there were no lies.





Chapter Nineteen


"Thank you, James." Sydney smiled at the ever-attentive driver as he  helped her from the rear of the town car. Over the weeks, they'd  developed a rapport, as Lucas had hired another chauffer for himself,  leaving James to care for Sydney. She enjoyed his calming presence and  quietly funny wit. "I'm going to miss you next week," she said, stepping  onto the sidewalk outside the brownstone. "But have a wonderful time  with your daughter and grandchildren."

He dipped his head, walking her up to the steps. "I haven't seen them  since last summer, so I'm excited about going." He grinned, and it lit  up his face. "And San Diego in November isn't bad, either."

She laughed, pressing a light kiss on his cheek. "Well, have fun. But don't let them convince you to move there," she warned.

Waving good-bye, she mounted the stairs and entered the house. Silence  greeted her. Not that she had expected Lucas to be home. He hadn't  surprised her like that since the day she had lunch with her mother.  That didn't keep her from glancing toward the living room, though.

And didn't keep the emptiness and loneliness from knotting her stomach.

God, she should have an ulcer by now.

Since the night of the party a week ago, there'd been a distance between  her and Lucas that hadn't been there since their time in Seattle. One  inserted by him. He'd drawn behind this reserved civility that warned  her away. Even in the one place he'd never held back with her-their  bedroom-he'd become detached. It hurt. It confused her. It left her  doubting his attraction to her. Old insecurities had risen, and as a  defense, she'd drawn away from him, too, increasing the gulf. A gulf she  had no idea how to swim across.

She peeled her coat off, tired from sleepless nights as well as a long  day at the youth center. Although she thanked God for her time at the  center. There, she could forget about the sharp turn her relationship  with Lucas had taken. She could lose herself in work, but now, in the  resounding quiet, she had nothing to distract her. Sighing, she closed  the closet door, and as she headed back toward the foyer, her cell phone  vibrated in the pocket of her skirt. Her pulse tripped. How pathetic  did it make her that she hoped to hear her husband's voice? Not quite  you-hang-up-no-you-hang-up pathetic but definitely  I-want-to-sleep-in-your-shirt-so-I-can-have-your-scent-surround-me  pathetic.

Removing the phone, she glanced down at the screen.

Tyler.

God. She hit the reject button and pocketed the phone. Since she'd  missed his family's party last weekend, he'd called several times.  Encouraged by her mother, no doubt. Sydney snorted, disgusted. Shaking  her head, she picked up the mail and, as was her practice, sorted  through it. She removed the junk mail, left the one piece for her on the  end table, and carried the rest to Lucas's study.