Night Music (5 page)

Lettice raised her eyebrows. “I’ve done nothing with her.”

“Your grandson!” Marsh snapped, trying to dispel the sudden notion that he was being a fool. “He’ll not do to Hilary what you did to me.”

Lettice looked away, then back at him. “That was a long time ago.”

“Sixty years,” he reminded her. “You weren’t there when I needed you the most.”

She adjusted the flowers in her basket. “I was young and too scared to go against my parents.”

“You didn’t love me enough to be poor and unaccepted.” He smiled grimly. “I found someone who did.”

She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I was sorry to hear of her passing.”

She sounded sincere. He gritted his teeth and nodded.

“What my grandson does,” she went on, “and what your granddaughter does is not my business. I don’t interfere. Neither should you.”

“I won’t, as long as you keep him away from her. Or I’ll come after you with everything I’ve got.”

“In a pig’s eye!” she snapped. “You leave those two alone, Marshall Rayburn.”

“I will if they’ll leave each other alone. You understand me, Lettice?”

He turned and stalked back to his car, not
waiting for an answer. The tires spun rubber, mirroring his fury as he drove away.

He was still tall and thin, Lettice thought as his car disappeared around the curve in the drive. Almost too thin, she decided. It had been a shock to see him get out of the car. Thank goodness she’d had a moment to compose herself before speaking.

He hated her.

She drew in a deep breath against the pain in her chest. A heart attack would be preferable to the ache she was suffering now. She should have learned to live with it. Usually she did. She had loved Marshall Rayburn as she had loved no other, and she’d told him the truth. She had been too afraid to go against her parents and her upbringing when his family lost everything in the Crash. Life had been full of rules and values and expectations then, to which one was supposed to adhere. Rebellion was not fashionable. If she had been older.… She often wondered about that.

No sooner did Marsh’s car disappear in one direction than another car came roaring up the drive. Devlin braked his Corvette to a screeching halt. The car door whipped open, and he got out. His expression was thunderous.

“Surprise, surprise,” Lettice said, smiling at her usually very absent grandson. “Did the sea finally spit you back out?”

“I want lunch, and then I’m going the hell home,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. “And I don’t want a lot of grief while I’m here.”

She raised her brows. “Then I suggest you go find the nearest Burger King.”

She walked across the driveway and around the
rear of his car, as far away from her glaring grandson as she could get. She wasn’t a fool.

“She shut the damn door right in my face,” he said suddenly.

Lettice turned around. “I see. You’d better come in for some lunch, then.”

“Thanks.” He strode past her and on into the house. The fury in him was so obvious, she wouldn’t be surprised if he started breathing fire.

Two angry men, she thought.

Her plans were moving along nicely.

Dev knocked on the door at the elegant Radnor town house. He almost couldn’t believe he was back here again. He had meant to go straight home after lunch with his grandmother. But stopping to leave a message was cheaper than calling, he told himself.

The door opened, and Hilary stood before him again. The severe white dress she was wearing made her look as polished as an objet d’art—and about as warm. Yet at second glance he realized the dress, as simple as it was, left no doubt that she possessed a body with curves to delight a man. Her stunned expression pleased him too. He needed a little control with her.

“My grandmother will be at some benefit for your grandfather’s hospital on Sunday,” he said, giving her no chance to recover her icy reserve. “An afternoon tea or something. Will he be there?”

She frowned. “I don’t know. He used to go, but lately—”

“Well, get him there,” Dev ordered.

Her lips thinned. “I don’t
get
anyone anywhere.”

“You’d better.” He grinned. “If the two of them
don’t get together, you and I are stuck playing Romeo and Juliet.”

“Heaven forbid,” she replied.

Irritation rose up in him at her ready agreement. He forced it back down beneath the surface. What the hell should he care, anyway? They had about as much in common as a pig and a snail.

“Maybe we’d better get some kind of plan together,” he began, stepping forward. “So that we know what we’re doing.”

She put her hand out, stopping him. “I can’t right now. I have an engagement shortly.”

He scowled. “Break it.”

“No!” she snapped, her eyes blazing and her cheeks darkening. “Get a life, Devlin.”

“Listen,” he said, glaring back at her, “I don’t have time to screw around over this, let alone waste time because
you’re
some social flitting butterfly. I have a charter to run.”

She waved her hand toward his car. “Then go run it! Nobody’s stopping you.”

She shut the door so fast, he had to jump out of the way or lose several toes. The solid-steel barrier was in his face. Again.

His blood boiled hot and the anger spilled over. He cursed fervently, spinning toward his car.

That was it. Ms. Prim was about to get a lesson she’d never forget.

And she’d never shut him out again either.

Three

“I don’t see why I have to go to to this.”

Hilary glanced over at her grandfather, noting his set jaw and crossed arms. She was a little surprised she’d actually gotten him this far. It had taken three days of continual arguing, pleading, and begging—on both sides. She pulled onto the grassy meadow at the Greenways Country Club, which had been set aside for parking, and said one last time, “It’s your hospital. I would think you’d want to support it.”

“I’ll send them a check,” he said, as she’d known he would.

“It’s for a good cause, the new pediatric surgery wing,” she replied automatically. “Which you
fought
for, before Grandmother died and you took to hiding from the world with this self-indulgent, maudlin garbage. She wouldn’t like it, you know.”

He frowned at her. “You’re becoming a guilt-riding hag, you know that?”

“Thank you. I love you too.” Hilary sighed to herself. Getting him there was about all she’d
gotten. On the other hand, she thought, brightening, that was the only thing required. “If it will make you any happier, just think of it as a prime opportunity for me to drum up business. There are a hundred clients here who are just waiting for me to walk in and save their dinner parties.”

Marsh grinned. “I wondered why you were so insistent on coming.”

“And now you know.”

He straightened his tie. “Then shall we indulge ourselves at this afternoon tea in the park?”

She grabbed her white gauze picture hat from the backseat and set it carefully on her head. “It’s showtime.”

Her grandfather chuckled. “Nobody would ever guess what the real Hilary beneath that facade is like.”

Hilary wondered, as she often had in the past few months, if the “real Hilary” was still there. She seemed to get lost a little too often in the course of business. Then she thought of how Devlin Kitteridge, seemingly without effort, got right past her well-constructed facade. With effort, she forced his image away and reminded herself of one advantage to this day. Devlin Kitteridge wouldn’t be there.

She and her grandfather got out of her car and strolled toward the large tent that dominated the back lawn of the country club.

“This reminds me of times long past,” Marsh said, squinting against the bright August sunlight. “The women in filmy tea gowns and the men in white flannels. At least the day is breezy, not that humid muck we usually get in August.”

“See? It’s not so bad.” She tucked her hand
around her grandfather’s elbow, smiling to herself as she did. He was in for a big surprise.

“Hello, darling. You look beautiful.” The unexpected words were followed by Devlin ducking his head beneath the brim of her hat and kissing her on the cheek.

Hilary gaped at him as he straightened. Beelzebub couldn’t have appeared this fast. He looked impeccable in a blue blazer and white flannels. “What are you doing here?” she asked ungraciously when she finally found her voice.

He raised his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you forgot I was coming.” He turned to her grandfather and held out his hand, flawlessly covering the older man’s temper tantrum of the other day. “I believe we missed being introduced last time. I’m Devlin Kitteridge.”

Hilary gaped again. This was the same Devlin of “watch ’em puke” fame?

Marsh’s lips had tightened to a thin line. Grudgingly he took Devlin’s hand and shook it. “I know who you are. You look like your … grandfather.”

Devlin nodded. “Others have said that.”

“I see some people I should talk with,” Marsh said to Hilary. “Will you excuse me?”

Hilary racked her brain for a protest. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with this changeling. Maybe this was really Miles filling in for his brother. That would explain a lot.

“Of course,” Devlin said. To her, he added, “Would you like some champagne, darling?”

Her grandfather stomped away at the endearment. Off to a great start, Hilary thought worriedly. Remembering their “business opportunity” conversation in the car, she figured her grandfather thought she was a liar of the first water.

“Get with the program, woman,” Devlin muttered to her as he pulled her in the opposite direction. His hand was like an iron band around her upper arm. “If we’re to be believable, you’ve got to act the part.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded, pulling up short. At least, she thought ruefully, she now knew she was with the “real Devlin.” “What program? What
are
you doing here?”

He made a face. “Playing this stupid matchmaking business to the hilt. What did you think?”

“That you weren’t coming.” She glanced around at the crowd. Devlin had hauled her to the outer edges of it. “Where’s your grandmother? If I got him out for nothing—”

“She’s here, don’t worry.” He looked around. “Somewhere. Of course I was coming. I even wanted to talk to you about it when I stopped by your house the other day.”

She frowned, remembering that conversation clearly. She ought to; she’d actually managed to get away with her control intact. “You said if I got him here, we wouldn’t have to act … interested in each other anymore.”

“Eventually. Obviously your grandfather doesn’t like us together, so obviously hell come out to try to stop us. Just as obviously my grandmother wants us together. And just as obviously shell come out to see that we are. Don’t you have a brain?”

She smiled sweetly. “Yes, and it’s well used too.”

“Could have fooled me.” He grimaced. “Let’s leave the barb trading to a minimum, okay? If we don’t act interested in each other, we’ll never convince my grandmother or your grandfather that something’s going on.”

She gazed at his handsome, rugged face with its cynical expression. His expensive clothes accentuated the lines of his lean body almost as well as his faded jeans did. Thinking of his body made her all too aware of the few inches separating them. His cologne mingled with his natural, musky scent, enticing her senses. He was extremely attractive … and extremely dangerous.

“I suppose I could force myself to fake it,” she said, her squeaking voice betraying her agitation.

He took her hand and pulled her against him so abruptly, she couldn’t even gasp for breath. Every inch of him was pressed intimately to every inch of her. Her body heated instantly, and so did her face at the thought of people seeing them like this.

“By the time I get through, Hilary Rayburn, you won’t even know what
force
means.”

“Get real, Devlin,” she said, trying to ignore the quick pounding of her heart. “Your track record so far consists only of Neanderthal tactics. You can’t even do it now without a little macho indulgence. Will you let me go?”

He stared at her, then smiled a slow, leisurely smile. The air seemed to whoosh out of her already-constricted lungs. But he let her go.

“You could use a little macho indulgence,” he said, courteously holding out his arm to her.

She tucked her hand around his elbow, then leaned close to him. “What I could use,” she murmured, “you don’t have.”

The fingers of his other hand wrapped warmly around hers as they began to stroll together. She felt the touch shudder through her.

“If you think that,” he replied, tilting his head down to hers, “then you’re about to be surprised … darling.”

She eased away from him as much as she could. “Don’t flatter yourself. And call me darling or anything resembling that word again and you’ll be looking at your back teeth. Understand?”

He chuckled. “I think I’m beginning to like you, Hilary.”

She smiled, feeling strangely exhilarated. “Heaven forbid.”

He patted her hand. “Come on. Let’s go steal some champagne.”

Marsh watched his granddaughter lean forward and whisper something intimate to Devlin Kitteridge. He hadn’t missed their short embrace a moment earlier either. They were oblivious to everything around them. The attraction between the young couple was so tangible, he could almost reach out and touch it.