Read Shannon's Daughter Online

Authors: Karen Welch

Shannon's Daughter (51 page)

Finally
laughing, she pulled him down beside her.
 
“Is that all you came for?”

“No,
but it seems like a good place to begin.”
 
He dipped his mouth to the tender spot beneath her ear.
 
In the next several minutes, he found himself
lulled by her soft sighs, every muscle in his body relaxing for the first time
in more than a day.

“Kendall?”
 
The sighs had ceased and Peg had gone stiff
beneath him.

“Problem?”
 
He tried to hide an expansive yawn by burying his face in the pillow.
 

“All
this talk about marriage and children, and I almost forgot about the
diaphragm.
 
I’ll be right back.”
 

As she
slipped off the bed and scurried to the bathroom, he stretched on his back,
sinking into the sheets, weariness warring with arousal.
 
When he closed his eyes a vision of Peg
standing over him, her fingers gently brushing at his hair, danced against his
lids.
 
He murmured in response to some
barely comprehended question and felt her wrap herself around him.
 
Not long after, fireworks, much like the
display they’d watched over the water at midnight, exploded in his head as he
floated to earth with Peg in his arms.
 

When he
opened his eyes again, the room was filled with light—not early morning
sunlight, but the harsh, sub-tropic glare of day—and Peg was standing over him
again.
 
“Hi,” he managed to push through
dry lips.
 

“Hi
yourself.
 
I was beginning to think you were going to
sleep until supper.”

Struggling
upright, he scrubbed a hand down his face, detecting more than the usual
morning stubble.
 
“What time is it?”

“Three
in the afternoon.”
 

“Good
heavens.
 
I must have been more exhausted
than I realized.”
 
Blinking, he tried to
orient himself.
 
“Have you been up long?”

“Since
nine.
 
I’ve been shopping.
 
I told everyone not to bother you.
 
Poor thing, you were out like a light as soon
as we were done last night.”

“Done?
 
You mean
we .
. ?”
 
He moved over to allow her to sit beside him
on the bed.
 

“Um-hm.
 
You were amazing, considering you were
nine-tenths asleep by the time I came back to bed.
 
I take it as a sign that you really missed me
these last few months.”

“Of
course I did.
 
I missed you in the past
few hours.”
 
Uncomfortably aware of his
need for a shower and shave, not to mention the gnawing hunger in his gut, he
resisted the urge to take her in his arms.

“That’s
nice.
 
Why don’t I order you something to
eat while you get cleaned up?
 
I put some
fresh clothes in the bathroom for you.
 
Dad’s out on a boat with some friends, so it’s just the two of us this
evening.”
 
She nuzzled his shoulder, one
hand drifting across his chest.
 
“What
would you like to do?”

“Seriously?
 
I’d like to do what we did last night, but this time I’d like to be
awake.”

“I’ll
think about it.”
 
Nudging him in the
ribs, she yanked the sheet off his lap.
 
“Go shower!
 
I want to show you
what I bought.”

Struggling
to his feet, he pulled the sheet after him and wrapped it around his
waist.
 
Not that he minded Peg’s eyes on
him, but the drapes had been drawn to reveal a floor to ceiling view of the
broad sunlit terrace and swimming pool beyond.
 
He felt exposed and not a little disoriented by the glare off the
sparkling water and the swaying palm trees.
 
“Right.
 
But food first, fashion show later, please.
 
I’m starving!”

Promptly
picking up the phone, she pressed the intercom, shooing him toward the
bathroom.
 
As he turned on the water, he
heard her speaking to someone, presumably in the kitchen.
 
On the marble vanity were his shaving kit and
underwear, while hanging on a hook behind the door he spotted shirt and trousers,
their travel creases already pressed out.
 

“Taking
care of me, are you?” he called as he stepped into the tiled shower and closed
the door.

“Of
course.
 
I asked Adamson to move your things in here
with mine.
 
He was only slightly
scandalized.”
 
Leaning in the open
doorway, she crossed her arms and appraised him with a warm gleam in her eyes.

“I can
imagine.
 
Although he
always seemed to approve of me.
 
He told me years ago he hoped I’d stay around.”
 
He stuck his head under the warm spray,
rinsing out the shampoo which he realized would leave him smelling like Peg.

“And
now you can.”
 

“For
a few days at a time, anyway.”
 
Turning off the taps, he opened the door and
held out a dripping hand.
 
“As long as
you’re going to loiter in here, pass me a towel please.”

“Or
longer, if you wanted to.”

Vigorously
rubbing his hair, he wasn’t sure he’d understood.
 
“What?”

She
hesitated, her gaze dropping, the warmth replaced by uncertainty.
 
“You could stay around indefinitely if you
took the job Bernie Silverman’s going to offer you this weekend.”

Stark
naked and dripping wet, he stared at her with his mouth hanging open.
 
“Hold on there.
 
What are you talking about?”

“Bernie
will be here this weekend.
 
When he heard
you were coming over, he sort of invited himself down.”

“And
how exactly did he hear I was coming?”

“Dad.”

“Ah.
 
Is this another of your father’s attempts to
coerce Silverman into offering me a job?’

“No.
 
This time it’s Bernie’s idea.
 
I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he
gets here.”

Wrapping
the towel around his waist, he stepped out of the shower and strode across to
her.
 
“Is that what you want, for me to
move to New York?”

Peg’s
head jerked around at the discreet rapping on the door.
 
“Your food is here.
 
Get dressed.”

He
watched her cross the room, clenching his jaw in frustration.
 
As quickly as he could manage, he dressed and
padded barefoot to the table by the windows overlooking the terrace.
 

“Would
you rather eat outside?”

“No.
 
I’d rather finish our conversation.”
 

“Kendall,
don’t be upset.
 
I’m sure Bernie just
wanted to get out of New York for a few days and your being here provided an
excuse.”

“But
you haven’t answered my question.
 
If he
made me an offer, would you want me to accept?”

“It
would make Dad very happy.”

Stabbing
a forkful of omelet, he tried again.
 
“Would it make
you
happy?”

Dropping
her gaze to his chest, a sure sign she was about to say something less than
completely honest, she answered, “It would be nice, wouldn’t it, to see each
other more often?”

“Of course
it would be, but I can’t just walk away from my job, or my commitment to the
quartet.
 
Besides, I thought you wanted
to take things slowly.”

With a
sigh and a little shake of her head, she said softly, “I do.
 
But I can’t seem to convince Dad I’m happy
with the way things are.
 
He seems so
disappointed every time I tell him I’m not in any hurry to get married.”

Reaching
across the table, he lifted her chin until her eyes met his.
 
“Making your father happy is not my goal,
Peg.
 
And neither should it be yours,
beyond a certain point.”

“I
know.
 
I just feel I owe it to him.
 
Don’t forget you were the one who pointed out
how much he’s done for me, when he really didn’t have to.”

He
chewed slowly on a bite of ham as well as on her logic.
 
“So this isn’t about my throwing over my
career in London to come to New York so we can be together, as much as it is
about showing your gratitude to your father for allowing you to grow up as his
daughter?”

“No!
 
I mean, I suppose that has something to do
with it, but I’m not asking you to ‘throw over’ your career!
 
I just thought if you talked with Bernie, Dad
might stop nagging me about when I’m going to marry you.
 
It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him, would it?’

“No.
 
But can’t see how it would help your situation.
 
Until you agree to marry me, it sounds as
though your father is going to
be.
. .what was the
word. . .disappointed.”

“I
suppose so.”
 
Just like that, she closed
herself off, leaving him feeling guilty for he wasn’t sure what failing.
 

He
finished his meal, trying to ignore the awkward silence.
 
Finally folding his napkin and tucking it
under the empty plate, he sat back with a groan.
 
“That was delicious.
 
I know Adamson is around here somewhere, and
Simon met me at the airport.
 
Is Mrs.
Leary in the kitchen?”

“No,
she stayed in New York.
 
We hired a chef
here.
 
He’s very good, but a little bit
temperamental.
 
Mrs. Leary has us
spoiled, I suppose.”
 
With a sigh, she
got up and wandered to the window.
 
“Do
you ever wish we were still a secret?”

“No.
 
But I do wish things were simpler.
 
More for your sake than for
mine.”
 
Holding out his hand, he
said gently, “Come here, sweetheart.”
 
She balanced on his knee, letting him put his arms around her, although
she was much too stiff to suit him.
 
“It’s
been a year since we began this courtship of ours.
 
You told me then you wanted to take things
slowly, that you weren’t sure marriage was something you were ready for.
 
Has anything happened to change that?”

“No.
 
Not really.”

“While
I wish that were not the case, I’m still willing to go on the way we have
been.
 
Are you?”

She
finally met his eyes, and he saw the sincerity there.
 
“Of course I am.
 
I can’t imagine my life without you.
 
It’s just that. . .”

“That
you’re not prepared to marry me.
 
Why?”

“You
know why.”

“Refresh
my memory.”

“We
live on opposite sides of an ocean.
 
And
we both have jobs we don’t want to give up.”

“And?”

“And I’m
not sure I’d make a very good wife.”
 

“Now
there’s where we disagree.
 
However, the
first two things are still true.
 
It
seems to me until you change your thinking with regard to the third, changing
the others would be pointless.
 
Am I
right?”

“Yes.
 
But I can’t explain that to Dad.
 
He’d just laugh and tell me I can do anything
I put my mind to.”

“I’d
have to go along with that.”
 
He brushed
his knuckles down her cheek.

“You’re
not helping, you know?”

“I’m
not trying to.
 
I want you to change your
mind because you love me enough to take the risk.
 
Until then, I think we go on the way we are.
 
I’m willing to consider making a move in the
future, if you’re willing to marry me once I do.
 
But I can’t up and quit right now just to
take the pressure off you.
 
You do
understand that, don’t you?”

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