The Wilder Wedding. Lyn Stone
very well, I admit. I only brought it up to assure you that I do recognize what’s developing here between us. I did love Ondine at one time. I loved her very much.”
“And you lost her,” Laura added. “I can well understand why you wouldn’t want a repeat of that situation.”
He raked a hand through his hair and released a harsh breath. “God, it sounds so damned selfish of me when you put it that way! I do care so much for you already, Laura, but—”
“You don’t want to love me and suffer a grief you’ve already suffered once.” She patted his hand and squeezed it with reassurance. “That’s just good sense, Sean. Self-preservation. You mustn’t think for a moment that I fault you for it. I would feel exactly the same way in your place. You’re right, of course. The closer we become, the worse it will be for you. I really don’t want you to love me,” she lied, keeping her eyes averted so he wouldn’t guess what she really felt.
He remained silent, staring down at her hands clasping his.
“This simply won’t do. I should go home,” she decided with a succinct nod. “That’s the prudent thing, for both our sakes.”
“No!” His vehemence surprised her. “You can’t do that. I won’t let you.”
Laura frowned with frustration. “Well, we have to do something! Imagine how guilty I’ll feel at the end. Being left behind by someone you love has to be the worst feeling in the world.” She thought of her parents’ constant desertion and how it had affected her. Affected her still. “I refuse to hurt you that way,” she said. “I shall leave tomorrow.”
“I can’t let you go,” he whispered. “No matter what, I just can’t.”
Her hand wriggled out of his and she clamped it to the other so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Well, you’ll have to eventually, won’t you? For your sake we shall have to alter our relationship somehow. Or at least prevent its progressing into something more profound.” She considered for a moment. “Of course, you know that. That’s exactly what you have been trying to tell me, isn’t it? We can simply be friends,” she suggested. “Can’t we?”
“That did occur to me,” he said, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Yes, I think we must try.”
“Fine! It’s all settled then. No more of this playing at seduction, I promise. I was terribly clumsy at it anyway.” Her self-deprecating laughter sounded forced, even to her, but Sean joined her anyway. His sounded worse.
“You’re damned good at it, and you know it, you little minx.”
“Why, thank you! How nice of you to say so,” she said, preening theatrically. “I did have you going for a while there, didn’t I?”
Sean simply nodded, his eyes sad, his wide smile locked in place. He didn’t speak or move again for the longest time.
“I’m sorry, Laura,” he said finally. “I didn’t foresee this happening.”
She sighed and shrugged, fighting her disappointment. Time grew too short to waste any on regrets. “Oh, that’s all right, Sean. I wish you wouldn’t talk on so about it.”
He rose then and headed for the door. Grasping the handle, he turned and smiled. “Do me a favor, old chum?”
“Anything for a friend,” she said, relieved that he had regained his composure, and determined to hang on to hers.
“Lose the perfume and try to look ugly. Maybe develop a taste for garlic? I absolutely loathe the stuff.”
Laura laughed again, a real laugh this time. The rascal still had his sense of humor. And he really did want her. Maybe he wouldn’t mind a little flirtation later if she kept it light and funny. Perhaps, if they had enough time to become truly good friends, he wouldn’t resist a bit of superficial lovemaking.
Surely such a thing existed. Men fed these hungers all the time without getting their hearts involved. Sean, of all people, should be aware of that. Sympathy was getting in his way right now. He would get past that notion of love growing between them in a few days.
Even if she wouldn’t.
During the next week, Laura wondered why Sean still insisted on sharing a room. His presence gave her comfort but made sleep an elusive thing for both of them.
Occasionally she would surprise a tortured expression on his face that mirrored what she was feeling herself. One such fleeting look could start her body pulsing in places she had hardly noticed before he came along. Each night her desire seemed to double.
He would leave the room while she readied for bed and she politely turned her back to him when he returned to undress. That chaise longue by the window barely supported his tall frame, but he wouldn’t hear of her giving up the bed. Such a gentleman.
Laura ached to probe beneath Sean’s studied gentleness, but for his sake she carefully restrained the urge. Living together in such close quarters seemed akin to playing with fire in a room full of explosives. And neither of them knew just when an errant spark might set things off. Every time their eyes met, Laura expected the volatile entity that was their passion to ignite.
Friendship definitely was not working. By day, it appeared to flourish, but the nights—ah, those nights—when she lay so still, pretending sleep and watching the outline of his long body silvered by the moonlight from the window. Forbidden fruit.
At times, she would wake and feel his gaze on her, as well. Perhaps he only checked to see whether she still breathed, but Laura knew that was not his only interest. The desire emanating from his makeshift bed grew almost palpable.
Those torturous six nights aside, they had truly done Paris during the daylight hours. She certainly couldn’t fault Sean as a tour guide. He had pointed out all the sights promised and more. This morning they had walked for miles along the Seine, had luncheon at a café along the Champs Elysées, and then climbed the steps to the top of Notre Dame. The magnificent view of the city almost banished her exhaustion.
“I’ve saved the Louvre for tomorrow and the day after,” he said when they descended to street level again and exited the cathedral.
“Thank goodness, I’ll have tonight to soak some feeling back into my feet.” She would never admit it to Sean, but the attractions of Paris dimmed in light of his own.
The grandeur of Napoleon’s Arc de Triomphe, the magnificent stained glass of La Sainte-Chappelle, and the strange tower that Eiffel designed were only feasts for the eyes. Sean fed every single sense she had and a sixth one she only just discovered, an inner sense fully attuned to his hidden needs. It made her want to give him everything she was, to fill with light that dark void Ondine had left. But could he withstand another such loss when she had to leave him?
What she needed was a real distraction, something to engage her mind fully, something to displace the mind-drugging memories of their one intimate encounter the day they married.
“I wonder when we’ll meet this Charles Beaumont?” Sean had sent round a message to the man. They had expected an invitation from him every evening when they returned to the hotel. “He doesn’t seem to be in any rush to sell the picture, does he? Do you think he has decided not to part with it?” Laura asked as they approached rue St. Jacques where their hotel was located.
Sean shrugged. “Who can say? But I’m not in any great hurry. We’ve been here for a week now and he has my direction. It’s his move. Would you like an ice before we go back?”
She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Good Lord, Sean, you’ve already had two since breakfast! I’m beginning to think that’s the only reason you accepted this assignment.”
“It’s very warm today,” he said, looking a little petulant, “and you nag like an old nanny.”
“I’d hate to have been your old nanny. You were a right little monster, I’ll wager.