Authors: Elizabeth Bevarly
But he just kept droning on about what he and Dixon had been doing since their arrival and how now they’d finally made contact with whatshisname—the guy who wanted to take over the world, yawn, as if that was any great gig—and how things should start happening now and how they shouldn’t have to remain at the estate much longer, blah blah blah blah blah…
Finally her father interrupted—thank God—telling Tanner, “I’m going to have to ask that you curtail your activities Saturday night.”
“Why?” Tanner asked. “By Saturday night we could be making major progress. That’s still four nights away.”
“Saturday night Mrs. Nesbitt and I will be entertaining a hundred and fifty people in our home for our annual November open house,” her father announced. “I don’t want any disruptions.”
“There won’t be any disruptions,” Tanner told him. “Dixon and Avery and I will stay out of your way.”
There was a moment of cumbersome silence, then Carly’s father dropped a bomb. A thermonuclear warhead to be exact. Because he said, “Avery will be at the party.”
“What?”
The outraged exclamation came not from Tanner but from Carly, who didn’t even realize she had offered it until every eye at the table was suddenly focused on her. Including Avery’s. What was weird, though, wasn’t how she reacted to her father’s statement. What was weird was how she reacted to seeing the hurt expression on her sister’s face.
Embarrassed. That was how Carly felt in that moment. Not for her sister but for herself. And ashamed, too. But again, not for Avery.
Before she could ponder that conundrum, Avery said, “Don’t worry, Carly, I won’t do anything to embarrass you or make you ashamed.”
Too late for that,
Carly thought.
“Because I won’t be at the party,” Avery added decisively.
“Yes, you will,” their father said even more decisively.
“No. I won’t,” Avery reiterated.
Wow, Carly thought. She’d never seen her sister defiant. Rebellious, sure, constantly when she was a teenager. But not once had she spoken back to their father with such open challenge. Whenever he’d come down on her for some infraction, she’d just stayed silent, then gone her own way. Not once had she faced him down.
“Yes,” their father said again, “you will.”
Avery said nothing for a moment, then finally, “Why would you even want me there?” she asked.
This time their father remained silent, meeting Avery’s gaze from the head of the table as if he were trying to put into words something that was very, very important. It was their mother, though, who finally clarified things.
“Because you’re here,” she said simply. “And there will be a number of people who want to see you while you’re here. Making an appearance is the least you can do.”
No, Carly thought. The least Avery could do was not show up. What was going on here? For ten years her parents hadn’t even allowed anyone to mention Avery’s name. Now suddenly they demanded she be at a party where
all
of their friends and family would see her? Just how much burgundy had been in the coq au vin tonight?
“And there will be none of your shenanigans,” their father added. “While you’re under this roof, you’ll behave in a fitting manner. You’ll attend the party Saturday night, just as you would have when you lived here. But this time you will refrain from executing any of your childish pranks. You’re not a child anymore, Avery,” he added. “You will behave as politely Saturday night as any other guest.”
Carly wondered if her father noticed, as she did—and as Avery doubtless did, too—that he had just referred to his daughter as a guest. Probably not. But wouldn’t everyone at the party be surprised when they saw this particular guest? Carly hadn’t realized until now just how bad her little sister’s timing was. As usual. Naturally she would return after a ten-year hiatus just when her parents were throwing their biggest party of the year. They should change the theme of the event from Some Enchanted Evening to Some Misguided Offspring. Because that was what everyone would be talking about now. God only knew what Avery would do this time to get the neighborhood tongues wagging.
Before she even completed the thought, Carly knew it was wrong. Avery had been so quiet since her return. There was none of the spirit in her now that had been there when she’d lived at home. Carly wasn’t sure if that was because of two years of prison or ten years of estrangement from her family or simple maturity at work. But her sister was past a time when she’d demanded all the attention. Now she seemed to want nothing more than to disappear.
Carly told herself she should be happy about that, that there was nothing she’d wanted more when they were young than for Avery to go away. Now that felt wrong. Avery felt wrong. Carly had ridden her little sister mercilessly since her return, had deliberately struck at all the places where she knew Avery was most vulnerable just to get a rise out of her. She didn’t mean anything by it. That was just her way. Carly always struck at people where they were most vulnerable just to get a rise out of them. She liked unsettling people. Liked being an irritant. She liked being a reminder that things weren’t always easy. Mostly, she supposed, because things had always come too easily for her.
But Avery hadn’t fought back, even though she should have by now. Before, she’d always been equipped for Carly’s attacks. Now she seemed defenseless. And Carly kept attacking anyway.
Not because she was mean, though, she realized now. Oh, she could be mean as hell when she wanted to and had been on many occasions that warranted it. But with Avery she hadn’t been trying to punish. Only now was she beginning to understand that. She had simply been trying to bring her sister back.
But Avery didn’t seem to want to come back. And Carly couldn’t understand why.
“Dixon and I may still have to work that night,” Tanner said, pulling her out of her troubling thoughts, “but if we do, we’ll stay out of everyone’s way. You won’t even know we’re here.”
His announcement should have relieved Carly, but instead it bothered her. A lot. She’d kind of counted on having Tanner at the party. In fact, she’d kind of counted on
having
Tanner at the party. Or at the very least right afterward.
Evidently she was going to have to adapt the timetable.
“Avery will be at the party,” her father said again, this time in the tone of voice that brooked absolutely no argument. “And so will you and your partner, Mr. Gillespie,” he added in the same tone. “I want all of you where I can keep an eye on you. That way I know no one will be creating any trouble.”
Oh, that’s what
you
think, Daddy….
Tanner seemed to understand that her father’s word was final, because he said nothing more about it. Which was fine with Carly, because she had plenty to say herself.
Starting with, “Well, if you’ll all excuse me,” and ending with rising from her chair and leaving the room.
It may have been a speech of only a half dozen words, but its repercussions were awesome. Because Carly hadn’t even taken a half dozen steps down the hall before she felt Tanner coming up from behind her. Exactly where she wanted him most. But she kept on walking as if she didn’t notice him, because…
Well. Because she was Carly Nesbitt.
“Oh, Ms. Neeesssbiiitt,” he sang out as he caught up with her.
He cobbled his stride to hers, but there was a bounce to it that was altogether unlike him, so she knew he was going to be in a frisky mood. Which was fine with her. She was feeling a little frisky herself. For lack of a better word.
“Where ya goin’?” he asked in the same playful voice.
Good God, he was so adorable. Though there was something in his eyes that prevented him from being precious. Really, it prevented him from being adorable, too, she thought. But she had to keep him in perspective or she might just—
Well, she just had to keep her in perspective, that was all.
“I thought I might go to the library to look for a good book,” she told him. “There’s not much else to do tonight.”
“Maybe I’ll go with you,” he said. “Maybe I’ll look for a book, too.”
“Don’t you have to work?” she asked, pretending she couldn’t have cared less about his answer. Because she couldn’t have cared less about his answer. Really. She couldn’t. Honest.
“Eventually,” he told her. “I have a little time to kill before then.”
“Mmm,” she replied noncommittally. She wondered how much time was “a little.” Then again, she’d brought men to their knees in seconds. Which was another place she wouldn’t have minded having Tanner.
“Well, I guess I don’t mind if you tag along,” she told him.
He took her at her word and affixed himself to her side as she made her way to the library. And he was still affixed to her side when she entered the library. And as she took her time perusing the titles in the library, one by leisurely one, scarcely seeing any of them because he kept himself so damned affixed to her side. And he was still affixed there when she finally chose a book from among the thousands her father owned, not really paying attention to its title, either, since—had she mentioned?—he was totally affixed to her side. And he was still there when she began to flip through the book, still not seeing it, and when she closed it with the decision to take it with her, not caring what it was.
In fact, Tanner never moved more than an inch away from her the entire time she was in the library. But he never touched her, either. Nor did he speak to her. He only stood beside her gazing at her, smiling faintly, as if he found her amusing. Which bothered Carly, since she had planned on being the one to be amused by him.
Damn. She hated that he kept turning the tables on her. Even if she did kind of like the way he did it.
“You seem to want to tell me something,” she finally said, even though she’d sworn she wouldn’t be the one to break the silence.
She told herself his faintly amused smile did not turn smug. “Actually I want to ask you something,” he said.
She widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Oh, my goodness. How exceedingly polite of you.”
He ignored her sarcasm. “Looks like I’m going to be needing a date for this party your old man is insisting I attend Saturday night.”
“That’s not a question,” she pointed out, ignoring the flutter of nervousness that tickled her belly. Honestly, she hadn’t felt nervousness since…never. No man had ever made her feel nervous. She was too certain of them. No way would a little upstart like Tanner Gillespie make her feel that way.
He dipped his head forward a bit in what might have been his silent way of saying,
Touché.
Or not. “So who are
you
going to be bringing to the party, Ms. Nesbitt?”
She turned to lean back against the bookcase and clutched her book to her chest. Though
not
because she suddenly felt as if she needed some kind of barrier between them or something. She expelled a long, thoughtful sigh and said, “I’ve not made up my mind yet.”
He took a single step to his left that brought his body immediately in front of hers. And even though he still wasn’t touching her, the flutter of nervousness in Carly’s belly exploded into full-fledged excitement. Funny, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling that where men were concerned, either. Mostly because she’d never met any exciting men.
“You have that many suitors knocking down your door, have you?” he asked mildly.
She uttered a wistful sound and told him, “Yes, I’m afraid I’m that in demand.”
He curled an arm over her head, propping it against the bookshelf, something that brought his body closer to hers, though still he wasn’t touching her. Dammit.
“Guess that’s what happens when you’re that demanding,” he murmured.
“I’m not demanding,” she said, telling herself her words did
not
sound breathless. “I ask for only one thing where men are concerned.”
He smiled again, but all amusement was gone. “And what’s that?”
“Worship,” she said without hesitation.
He laughed out loud at that, a soft, sexy sound that came from somewhere deep inside him, a place that Carly would have loved to know more about. “What a coincidence,” he said when he finished. “I love being worshipped. Have your people call my people. Maybe we can set something up.”
Grateful for the book she was clutching against herself, since it hid the erratic pounding of her heart, she said, “You think a lot of yourself, don’t you, Gillespie?”
He nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. “Yeah. As a matter of fact, I do.”
“And why is that, I wonder?” she asked.
He leaned in closer, flattening his other hand against the shelf beside her face. But still he kept a breath of air between them, so although she could feel his heat, she couldn’t feel his body. And that was something she decided they needed to remedy.
“Bet you’d love to find out, wouldn’t you?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper.
Indeed she would. In fact, she wanted so badly to investigate this thing that was radiating between them, she said, “I’m sorry, but I have plans tonight.”
He dropped his gaze to the book she was gripping so tightly her fingers were getting numb. “I’ll say you do,” he told her. But when he looked up at her again, he was smiling again.