Fairy Tale Weddings (18 page)

Pivoting, he walked over to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a stiff drink and downed it in two swallows. He wanted her. This soul-searching led to one thing and one thing only. He hungered to take Judy in his arms and kiss her until she felt a fraction of his desire. And when the moment came, she'd smile up at him with those incredible eyes and give him her very soul and ask nothing in return.

“Mr. McFarland?” Avery Anderson stepped into the office.

“Yes?” he snapped.

“I'm sorry to disturb you.”

McFarland shook his head, dismissing the apology. “What is it?”

Avery shifted his feet. “It's Ms. Lovin.”

“Yes. Is there a problem? Is she hurt?” He strove to keep his voice unemotional, although his heart was hammering anxiously against his ribs.

“No…no. Nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

Avery ran a finger inside his stiff white collar. “She's been on the island nearly a month now.”

“I'm aware of that.”

“I was wondering how much longer her family will be kept waiting before she's returned.”

“Have they been pestering you again?” Grim resolve tightened his features. Judy enjoyed the island; he could see no reason to rush her departure.

Avery gave one barely perceptible shake of his head and dropped his gaze. “No…”

“Then who's doing the asking?”

Avery squared his shoulders and slowly raised his eyes to his employer's. “I am, sir.”

“You?”

“That's right, Mr. McFarland.”

“How long Ms. Lovin stays or doesn't stay is none of your concern.” His tone was cold.

“But, sir…”

“That'll be all, Avery.”

He hesitated for a long moment before turning, white-lipped, and walking out of the room.

McFarland watched his assistant leave. Even his staff had been cast under her spell. Sam, who could be decidedly unpleasant, rushed to do her bidding. Princess had never been groomed more frequently or better. When asked about the extra attention he'd paid to the mare, Sam had actually blushed and claimed it was for Ms. Lovin.

The maids fought to serve her. The chef had somehow managed to learn her favorite dishes and cooked them to the exclusion of all else. Pleased by his efforts, Judy had personally gone to thank him and kissed the top of his shining bald head. The island children followed her the way they would a pied piper. Even Midnight had succumbed to her considerable charm. McFarland wiped a hand over his face. The entire island rushed to fulfill her every command. Why should
he
be exempt from yearning to please her?

“Avery!” he barked.

“Sir?” The other man hurried into the room.

“Cancel my afternoon commitments.”

“Excuse me?” Incredulous disbelief widened the other man's eyes.

“I said wipe out any commitments I have for the remainder of the day.”

Avery checked his watch. “Are you feeling ill, Mr. McFarland? Should I contact a doctor?”

“No. I'm going swimming.”

Avery's eyes narrowed. “Swimming?”

“In the ocean,” McFarland said, grinning.

“The one outside—the one here?”

“That's right.” Purposefully, he closed the folder on his desktop lest he be tempted to stay. “Avery, when was the last afternoon you had free?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Take this one off. That's an order.”

An instantaneous smile lit up the fastidious man's face. “Right away, Mr. McFarland.”

 

McFarland felt as young as springtime and as excited as a lover on Valentine's Day. He walked through the house
to his quarters and changed clothes. With a beach towel slung around his neck, he strolled down the front lawn and searched the outskirts of the beach. He found Judy lying in the shade of a tall palm tree. She wore a demure swimsuit and had kicked off her sandals. A large blanket was spread out on the grass; the picnic basket was open. He glanced inside and saw enough food to hold off a siege.

Judy lay on her back with her eyes closed. She knew she appeared tranquil, but her thoughts were spinning. She shouldn't be on St. Steven's. She should be asking when John intended to release her so she could go home to her family. Instead she was lazing on the beach feeling sorry for herself because she'd misjudged John McFarland. Her pride was hurt that he'd refused such a simple request. She liked being with John; the highlight of her day was spending time with him. She savored those minutes, and was keenly disappointed whenever he left her. The kiss they'd shared had changed everything; nothing could be the same anymore. They'd come to trust each other enough to be friends, but now they feared each other. The kiss hadn't satisfied their curiosity. Instead, it had left them yearning for more.

A soft protest sounded from her throat. She was falling in love with John. She didn't want to love him, nor did he want her love. He would hurt her and send her away when he tired of her. It would embarrass him—and her—if he ever guessed how she felt.

“You knew I'd come, didn't you?” McFarland said, standing over her.

Judy's eyes shot open, blinked at the bright sunlight and closed again. Shielding her eyes with one hand, she leaned
on one elbow and looked at him again. “John.” She sat upright.

He didn't seem pleased to be there, but she was too happy to care.

“Sit down.” She patted the blanket beside her. “And no, I didn't know you were coming, but I'm so glad you did.”

He joined her, looping an arm around his bent knee. He stared into the rolling blue surf as he spoke. “I left McDonnell Douglas on the line so I could fulfill this wager.”

“They'll call you tomorrow.”

“You hope.”

“I know,” she said, hiding a smile. “Now don't be angry with me. You're the one who suggested we make things interesting.”

“Why can't you be like every other woman and ask for diamonds?”

“Because some things are worth more than jewels.”

“What's the problem? Do you have so many that more don't interest you?” His face was hard and unyielding, but his anger was directed more at himself than at Judy.

“My mother left me three or four lovely pieces.” She slowly trailed her finger in the sand. “But I seldom wear jewelry.” He wouldn't understand and she couldn't explain that being with him was worth more to her than rubies and pearls.

A strained silence followed. “I shouldn't have snapped at you,” he eventually said.

She turned to face him and was caught once again by his tortured gaze. Her breath stalled in her lungs. Not knowing what drove her, she brought her hand to his face, yearning to wipe away the pain. John's eyes closed as her
fingers lightly brushed his cheek. He took her hand, then raised his eyes to hers, kissing the inside of her hand.

The sensation of his lips against her palm made Judy gasp.

“I shouldn't do this,” he said and groaned, directing her face to his. He kissed her cheek, her temple, her eyes.

They broke apart momentarily, and when he reached for her again, Judy met him halfway. This time the kiss was much deeper, and when he lifted his head they were both dazed and more than a little shocked. The kiss was better, far better, than either had anticipated.

McFarland rose to his knees, pulling Judy with him. Her look of innocent desire stabbed at his conscience. He hadn't meant to kiss her; he feared hurting her more than he feared losing his wealth. But the soft, feminine feel of her was irresistible. And in the end, he kissed her again and again until his heart thundered and roared. He lost himself in her sweetness as years of loneliness melted away.

John's kisses made Judy feel light-headed. The finest wine couldn't produce a sensation as potent as this. She trembled in his arms and her gaze met his.

He dragged his eyes away from her.

“Let's swim,” he said abruptly.

Judy nodded and he helped her to her feet.

The turquoise water wasn't far, and they stepped into the rolling surf together. The cool spray against her heated flesh took Judy's breath away.

John dove into an oncoming wave and Judy followed him. He broke the surface several feet from her, turned and waited for her to swim to him.

“Have you ever body surfed?” He shouted to be heard above the sound of the churning sea.

“No, but I'd like to.”

“Good.” He reached out and clasped her waist. “We'll take this wave together.”

With no option, Judy closed her eyes and was thrust into the swelling wall of water. Her hold on John tightened as they were cast under the surface by a giant surge of unleashed power.

Judy threw back her head and laughed once the wave washed them onto the beach. “That was wonderful.” She wrapped her arms around John's neck.

“You're slippery,” McFarland said, using the excuse to draw her closer. He held her firmly against him, his fingers brushing the wet strands of hair from her face. Her pulse went wild at his touch.

His eyes darkened just before his mouth descended on hers. Judy gave herself to the kiss, responding with all the love in her heart. The water took them again, and when they emerged from the wave, Judy was breathless and weak.

McFarland's chest heaved. He'd thought he could escape his need for her in the water, but it hadn't worked out that way. “You feel even better like this….”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. How was he ever going to let her go? “Judy?”

She wound her arms around his neck and smiled shyly. Maybe he'd admit that he loved her. No, she told herself. It was a fanciful dream. Earning John's love would take more than a few playful moments in the surf. He had to learn to trust.

“Listen,” he said in a low voice, “I have to tell you something.”

She raised her head, afraid that he was going to send her away.

“I'm leaving.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “When?”

“In the morning.”

“How long?”

“A few days,” he said, and continued to brush the wet strands from her face, although they'd long since been smoothed into place. “Four, possibly five.”

Perhaps he'd decided to send her away. Her eyes must have revealed her distress.

“Will you wait here for me, Beauty?”

She nodded, overcome with relief.

“Good,” he whispered, and greedily sought her mouth once again.

Not until he kissed her did she realize he hadn't called her Judy.

J
ohn left just after dawn the next morning. Judy was awake and at the sound of muted voices, reached for her robe and rushed down the winding stairs. By the time she arrived, John was already gone, but she could see his Jeep in the distance. She stood on the huge porch, leaning dejectedly against the marble column. She would've liked to have wished him well.

“Morning, Ms. Lovin.”

Judy straightened and turned toward Avery Anderson.

“Good morning. I see John got off without a hitch.”

“Mr. McFarland should only be away a few days.”

“Four, possibly five.” She quoted what John had told her, staring after the disappearing vehicle. “It won't be so bad.”

“He's instructed me to see to your every wish.”

She smiled. If she were to have a craving for pastrami from her favorite New York deli, Judy didn't doubt that speedy arrangements would be made.

“He doesn't go away often,” Avery went on to explain
as he straightened his bow tie. “He wouldn't now if it wasn't necessary.”

Judy nodded. John hadn't wanted to leave her. She'd seen the regret in his eyes.

“Some say he's a recluse,” Avery commented thoughtfully, studying Judy.

“No,” she countered. “Not in the true sense of the word, but he does care about his privacy.”

“He does,” the older man agreed.

They turned to go back inside, walking through the wide doors and parting at the foot of the stairs.

Four or five days wouldn't seem long, Judy told herself as she dressed. The time would fly. She glanced at her watch; already fifteen minutes had passed.

Slumping onto the edge of the bed, Judy released a long, slow breath. She loved John and was only beginning to understand the consequences of blithely handing him her heart. Caring for him excited her, and it made her afraid. John wouldn't be an easy man to love; he knew so little about it. Judy had been surrounded by love. Her feelings for John gave him the power to hurt her and she wasn't convinced that telling him how she felt would be in her best interests—or his.

The first day passed without incident. The second was equally dull. Mealtimes were the worst. She sat at the end of the table and experienced such an overwhelming sense of loneliness that she scolded herself for being so dramatic.

Nothing seemed right without John. Not riding Princess around the island; not visiting the children; not writing letters to her family; not swimming.

She was lonely and bored, at odds with herself. One
man had toppled her world and a few days without him taxed the balance of her existence.

The night of the third day, Judy tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. She missed John dreadfully and was angry with herself for feeling at such a loss without him.

At midnight, she threw aside the blankets and silently crept down the stairs for a glass of milk, hoping that would help her sleep. John's office was on the opposite side of the house from the kitchen, and Judy carried her milk to the opulently paneled suite, turning on the lights. She slipped into his desk chair, tucking her bare feet beneath her. Briefly she closed her eyes and smiled, inhaling his scent. She could practically feel his presence, and that eased the ache of loneliness and despair.

 

Weary to the bone, McFarland entered the house and paused in the foyer, resisting the urge to climb the stairs and wake Judy. The thought of holding her sleepy head against his chest was almost more than he could resist.

The business meetings hadn't gone well and in part he blamed himself. Negotiations had come to an impasse and, in his impatience to return to the island, he'd asked that the meeting be adjourned while both parties considered the lengthy proposals. He would've stayed in Dallas if he'd felt it would do any good, but he figured it was probably better to return to St. Steven's rather than buckle under to United Petroleum's unreasonable demands.

He paused, rubbed a hand over his face and smiled. He didn't need to wake Judy to feel her presence in his home. He had only to shut his eyes to see her bouncing down the stairs with a vitality that rivaled life itself. Her laughter was like sparkling water; her smile could blot out the sun.

His heart constricted with emotion. He would surprise her first thing in the morning. Until then he'd have to be content.

With that in mind, he headed toward his rooms, until a light in his office attracted his attention. It wasn't like Avery to work this late unless there was a major problem. Frowning, McFarland decided to check.

One step into his office and he stopped cold. Judy was curled up in the chair behind his desk, sound asleep. She was the picture of innocence with her head to one side, the thick coffee-colored hair falling over her cheek. She wore a plain nightgown beneath an equally unfeminine robe. Neither did much to reveal the womanly curves beneath. However, McFarland had never experienced a stronger stab of desire. It cut through him, sharp and intense, and trapped the breath in his lungs.

Had it been any other woman, he would've kissed her awake, then carried her into his room and satisfied his yearning. He couldn't do that with Judy; her innocence prevented him.

He hesitated, debating how he should wake her. His impulse, despite everything, was to bend over and kiss her, but he knew that would never satisfy him and the potency of his desire would only shock her. Shaking her or calling her name might frighten her.

Of her own accord, Judy stirred and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back and yawning loudly. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. When she opened her eyes, she discovered John standing on the other side of the desk. She blinked. At first she was convinced he wasn't real but the embodiment of her deepest desires. When she realized he was actually there, she leaped from the chair, nearly tripping on the hem of her nightgown.

“John.” She brought her hand to her chest. “I'm so sorry…I don't know what came over me to come into your office. It must've startled you to find me here. I…I apologize.”

“My home is yours. No apology is necessary,” he said softly as his gaze fell on the empty glass.

“I couldn't sleep.” She shook back her hair, still flustered and more than a little embarrassed. “When did you get in?”

He felt a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. She looked like a guilty child with her hand in the cookie jar. “A few minutes ago.”

She clasped her hands and smiled brightly. “Welcome home.”

“It's good to be here.”

Judy tightened her hands to restrain the urge to run into his arms, hold on to him and beg him never to leave her again. Her heart continued to pound, but she didn't know if it was from being caught in his office or just the sight of him.

“Did anything happen while I was away?” he asked, reaching for his mail and idly flipping through it.

“Nothing important.” She stood across from him, drinking in his presence as though he might disappear at any moment. “Are you hungry? I'd be happy to fix you something.” She prayed he was famished, so she'd have an excuse to stay with him longer.

“Don't go to any trouble.”

“I won't. Will a sandwich do?” She smiled, inordinately pleased to be able to do this one small thing for him.

“A sandwich would be fine.”

He followed her into the kitchen and pulled a stool up to the stainless-steel table while Judy opened the refrigerator to take out the necessary ingredients.

“How was the trip?” she asked, liberally slathering two slices of bread with mayonnaise before placing turkey and tomato on them.

McFarland had never discussed business matters with anyone outside his office. The temptation to do it now was strong, but he didn't. “Everything went as expected,” he said matter-of-factly, which was only half true.

Judy cut the sandwich in half, set it on a plate and handed it to him. She poured them each a glass of milk, then sat on a stool across from him.

Elbows braced on the table, she cupped her face in her hands and studied him while he ate. Her brow creased with concern. “You look exhausted.”

“I am. I didn't make it to bed last night.”

“The meetings didn't go well, did they?”

Her intuition surprised him; he hadn't thought he was that easy to read. “I didn't expect them to.”

“What happened?”

McFarland shrugged. “I made an offer, they rejected it and came back with a counteroffer.”

“And you rejected that?”

He paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. “Not exactly. Not yet, anyway,” he elaborated.

“But you will?”

Again he shrugged, and his eyes met hers. “I'm not sure.”

Judy continued to study John. He was physically exhausted, but his mental stress weighed far more heavily on him. As a young girl, she'd often watched her mother soothe away her father's tension. Georgia Lovin hadn't made suggestions; she'd had no expertise in business, but she possessed the ability to get her husband to relax and
talk out the problem. More often than not, he found the solution. Judy prayed she could do the same for John.

“You want this deal, don't you?” she asked him softly.

McFarland nodded. “I've been working on it for over a year. The offer I made United Petroleum is a fair one—it was more than fair. But I'm at a disadvantage.”

“Why?”

He set the glass down hard. “Because they know I want this.”

“I see.”

“Now that you mention it, I may have appeared too anxious to settle.” He couldn't deny his eagerness. He'd wanted to get those papers signed so he could get back to the island and Judy, his mission accomplished. He'd thought he'd been more subtle, but perhaps not. “Let me explain,” he said, taking a napkin and scribbling down a series of figures.

He spoke nonstop for fifteen minutes. Much of what he said was beyond Judy's comprehension, although she pretended to understand every bit of it. She nodded at the appropriate times, occasionally asking a question, and smiled when he finished.

“You're right,” he said with a wide grin. “Why didn't I think of that?”

Judy understood only some of what he was talking about, but it didn't seem to matter. The weariness was gone from his eyes. He stood and paced the kitchen.

“That's it,” he said, pausing in front of her. “Has anyone ever told you what a marvel you are?” His hands cradled her face and he kissed her soundly.

Judy's breath lodged in her chest. “What was that for?”

“To thank you.” He checked his watch. “It's late, but
I think I'll call my attorney and talk this latest strategy over with him.”

“John,” she protested. “It's one o'clock in the morning!”

“For the money I pay that man it shouldn't make any difference what time I call him.”

Before she could protest further, John was at the kitchen door. He opened it, paused and turned back. “Will you ride with me in the morning?”

She smiled and nodded eagerly, grateful that he'd asked.

In his office, McFarland emptied his briefcase and set the file for United Petroleum on his desk. It struck him then, sharply. He didn't know how, but Judy had gotten him to reveal the minute details of this buyout. He'd told her everything without any hesitation. He wasn't worried about what she'd do with the information; there
was
nothing she could do.

But he was shocked by the way she'd so completely gained his confidence—to the point that he cheerfully gave out industry secrets without a second thought. This woman had him tied in knots a sailor couldn't untangle, and every one of them was choking off his independence. Because she was making herself essential.

He paused as he analyzed the situation. McFarland didn't like the idea of a woman, any woman, controlling his life. Not one bit. Something had to be done to put an end to it.

 

At dawn Judy rushed to meet John at the stables. She'd slept well after leaving him. When the maid had come to wake her, she'd resisted climbing out of the warm bed, preferring to hold on to the memory of John's arms around her. It took her a moment to realize she'd been dreaming.

Midnight and Princess were saddled and waiting.

“Morning,” she called to Sam and smiled at John, who immediately swung onto Midnight's back.

The burly trainer waved. Judy stroked Princess's smooth neck before mounting. She noticed that John's look remained stoic.

“How'd you sleep?” she asked when they'd gone a few hundred feet. He was quiet, withdrawn and taciturn—nothing like the warm, gentle man he'd been when they'd parted.

“I didn't get to bed,” he answered crisply.

“Oh, John, again? You must be ready to fall out of the saddle.”

“No. After you left last night, I started to analyze the proposal and decided there were still things I wanted to change before I talked to Butterman.”