A Taste of Honey (8 page)

She’d nothing to fear from Will Knight. He didn’t affect her in any way except maybe her libido.

She could handle him. The situation. Why she could handle anything that came her way with both hands tied behind her back.

She lusted after Will. He was, except for his arrogance and stubborn streak, a gorgeous man. And he turned her on hot and willing. It’d been a long time since a man had had that power over her. Who was she kidding? She’d never known a man who had tingled as much as her big toe. When Will kissed her, she’d actually heard bells. Now, that had to mean something, didn’t it?

Holy crap. She didn’t want his kisses to mean anything to her. She didn’t want this man with an ego the size of Mount Everest to affect her in the slightest way.

A conundrum. She’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her. So what had been the problem? Why had she sent him packing and crept back into her lonely bed like a nun on retreat?

It didn’t make sense.

It must be that she was confused. Yes, that was it; total confusion. He was harassing her about marriage and, and — she mentally sighed — and every other damn thing she’d always wanted in her life.

It couldn’t be love. Love didn’t just happen. It was an over-the-years-and-took-patience-and-understanding type of occurrence. It was courtship, deepening affection, love, and marriage.

What was happening now? She was caught up in a web of excitement like some helpless fly and Will the spider coming to eat her. Hmm.

She changed the subject completely. “I’m about to have a coffee, want some?”

He nodded, and followed her into the kitchen. She grabbed the percolator and filled it with water.

He slumped onto a chair. “My mother wants to meet you. We’re invited for dinner next Saturday.”

She jerked. Water splashed over her hand and arms. With trembling fingers, she scooped coffee into the filter and put the coffee on to percolate. She slumped into a chair opposite him. She stretched out her feet and stared dejectedly at her toes. “Does — ” she swallowed, “Does your mother know about us already?”

“She does.”

His confirmation in those two controlled words had her rising out of her chair, only to find he had risen as well. He moved to stand directly in front of her.

Charli was horrified. “How could you tell her so soon? I wasn’t ready. I need time to gather my thoughts. I have to think about things. This is too fast.” She grabbed his sweater and shook him. “You’ve got to give me time.”

He prized free her fear-stricken fingers. “Hey, go easy. You’re bending the wool.”

She curled her fingers. “How about I bend your neck?”

“Come on, Honey. She had to know some time.”

Charli groaned inwardly. The situation was going from bad to worse; fast. “Was she surprised?”

“You could say that.”

“Was she pleased?”

“It’s difficult to tell.”

“Then she was displeased?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Then what would you say?”

“I’d say she was shocked.”

“Oh, God.”

Charli’s head was swimming. To think that he’d gone and told his mother when she was still planning the right words as to how she could break the news to her father. Nothing seemed to faze this man. He was accepting their marriage as if it was an everyday event, and yet she knew how hurt he was over his wife’s desertion. The pain of grief and humiliation he’d suffered. He must have taken a vow never to trust his heart to another woman, and who could blame him?

And now he was marrying her to give his child his name so no fingers could ever be pointed at him. Will couldn’t be a long-distance daddy, she knew this. He’d want to share and care with him. To protect and love him as a father should.
What about me? I need love too.

A cloud of despondency settled around her head. Her mind wandered and her eyes fluttered closed …

I’m standing tall, the light from yonder window curling a golden halo around my head. I fold my arms across my breast and intone, “I’ll never sacrifice my honor. I reject the idea of marrying for anything less than love.”

Will flings himself at my feet picking up the hem of my dress And kissing it fervently, says, “But it is love, my Honey. I love you more than anything in the entire world.” Standing, he scoops me into his arms and presses his hot mouth against my eager own. My blood heats as every nerve in my body responds. I want him desperately. I want him inside me. Only Will can satisfy this urgent need.

Bells sound.

Her eyes flew wide open.
Oh my God, I’m in love with William Knight.

She wasn’t marrying Will to appease their parents, or even her wonderful job back at Knight Books. She wanted Will. This was worse than anything she could ever imagine. She’d have to fight this feeling of love for him because it would cause her more grief than she’d ever known. In love with a man who would never, could never love her back.

“Hell-lo-o, anyone home?”

“What?”

“You were picking daisies again. What I said was, don’t go making mountains out of molehills; allowing that crazy imagination of yours to go riot.”

“I shall make whatever I want out of whatever I want.” She sniffed. “And my imagination is as normal as anyone’s, thanks very much.”

He laughed. “I’ve never known a woman like you,” he said.

Miffed, she straightened. “Is this some sort of compliment, Will, or should I expect the rug ripped out from under me, yet again?”

He reached over and touched her hair, running his fingers down the side of her face. Power surge. If only she didn’t have this fantastic desire for Will. Every time he touched her she melted. She had to keep reminding herself what this marriage was all about. There was no love involved. There never would be.

Yet even knowing that, each time she was with him her feelings for him deepened. How could she possibly live with him in the same house and remain sane.

Her mantra for the week;
I will not love Will. I will not love Will.

She moved to the cupboard, took down mugs and filled them with coffee. “Milk and sugar?”

“Three.”

She gawked. “Three sugars?”

“I’ve got a sugar fixation.” He patted his top pocket. “Always got a chocolate bar on me.”

“That’s being prepared, if you get lost in the bush, that is.” She handed him his coffee and resumed her seat. He followed suit. “And she wants to meet me?”

“Yep, she sure does. What’s wrong with that? Every mother wants to meet the woman her son plans to marry.” He studied her face. “When do you think you’ll tell your father?”

Charli gasped weakly. Telling her father about her impending marriage wasn’t her idea of a good time. Whatever would he think? Pain filled her heart. He wouldn’t care one way or the other. As far as her father was concerned, Charli could marry whom she pleased. He no longer cared if she was happy or sad. The day her mother died she had lost both her parents. How could she explain this to Will?

“My father?” she said, vaguely seeking time to find the right answer to give Will.

“Yeah, the man you grew up with. Remember him?”

“Don’t be insulting.”

He sighed. “Look, Honey. We’re getting married. There’s family involved. We have to tell our parents. We have to tell your father.” He lowered his head and peered into her eyes. She blinked. “Are you grasping any of this?”

“It’s too soon,” she argued.

“Tonight, tomorrow, or next week, the meeting is inevitable so why put it off? You’re not on trial; this is just a meeting between you and my mother.”

“She’ll expect something better than me,” she pouted.

“What the hell?” he said. “What are you prattling on about now?”

“The poor secretary marrying the rich boss. The old, old story. Your mother will think I’ve trapped you somehow into marriage.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For one thing you aren’t my secretary and another is you’re not smart enough to trap me.”

“You are unforgivably insulting.”

“There are two ways we can go about this thing,” Will was saying. “We can tell our parents the truth and break their hearts, or we can pretend we love each other. The choice is yours, but whatever you choose, whichever way you go, the ending is still the same.”

Fear struck deep within her; Will was right, whatever happened there was no getting out of it.

A gentleman should tip his hat when meeting a lady on the street.

Charli changed for the fifth time, throwing the discarded dress on top of the others, which were lying in crumpled mess across the bed.

She didn’t know what to wear. This wasn’t a casual outing; she was to meet William’s mother and quite frankly, she was scared witless.

She stared vacantly into her wardrobe; something not too elaborate yet sophisticated. She flicked through her clothes, wishing she’d followed her first instinct and bought something new. Sighing deeply, she spun away from the wardrobe and fell across the bed on top of her discarded clothes and stared at the ceiling.

It had taken her several attempts to telephone her father and after rehearsing over and over in her mind what she would say to him, she’d finally dialed his number.

His elation at her news thrilled her and he’d sounded like the father she’d known before her mother had died, eager, laughing, joking with her, then seriously telling her how pleased he was for her that she’d found someone who loved her and when could he meet him? It was nearly worth it to marry Will to make her father this happy.

She was marrying a man who didn’t love her. All her life she’d dreamt of courting, love, and marriage, in that order. Now it was marriage, no love, and certainly no courting.

Okay, what she’d do was throw herself into Knight Books. She had some wonderful ideas on how to improve the company. She’d work fourteen hours a day, come home so exhausted that she’d collapse into bed and sleep the night away until it was time to return to work the next morning. She’d work weekends as well. Nose to the grindstone was her middle name from now on. Good plan.

And she thought that Will would approve. His goal was to make Knight Books the best publishing house in Australia. Well, that was her goal too. At work, they would be side by side making snap decisions, enjoying every moment of working together. It was at home, at night that worried her.

Because loving him hurt.

Tears fell down her cheeks. A sensation not unlike little girl lost assailed her. Why was she so upset? She was going into this marriage with eyes wide open. Will had never lied to her. He didn’t love her nor would he ever love her.

“And I don’t love him,” she tested the lie, brushing the tears away with the back of her hand.

Chastising herself for wallowing in self-pity, she plucked a tissue from the box on the dressing table and loudly blew her nose. Tossing the tissue into the wastepaper basket, she resumed searching through the wardrobe.

At last, she decided on a claret and black paisley velour top, rich with color and pattern, with a cocoa brown skirt in an easy flow of suede-touch polyester. Softly pleated with extra length that covered the top of her brown suede boots.

Desperate to look as sophisticated as possible, she pinned her hair into a chignon on the top of her head. Her hair refused to obey and kept falling loose of its combs. Eventually she gave up and allowed her hair to cascade in curling waves to her shoulders.

Will arrived five minutes early. She’d been ready for him long before he’d arrived. He looked different today dressed as he was in dark slacks and lightweight sea green sweater that brought out the vividness of his eyes. He left her breathless.

A flicker of appreciation shone in his eyes, as he looked her up and down. “You look lovely,” he said.

Charli felt a wash of pleasure at his compliment. She tried telling herself that she didn’t give a damn if he liked what she wore or not. But that simply wasn’t true. She cared deeply what he thought of her.

She was tumbling headlong into an abyss. She’d lost control of her senses. She could blame it on his impish smile, his smoldering looks, and seductive voice.

She could handle the situation between her and Will, and marrying him wasn’t scaring the living daylights out of her. She could imagine that their marriage was one of love. That Will had fallen in love with her. All he cared about was making her his wife and loving her for the rest of his life.

She could say that, but it wasn’t true, and all the wishing and hoping wouldn’t make it so.

And even if she wanted out of the marriage it was too late. Their parents knew. The people at work knew. And she wanted security for her baby. She wanted him to grow up strong and proud in the knowledge that his parents loved him above all else.

It’ll be all right, she assured herself as Will followed her inside. She collected her handbag and coat. He came silently behind her. She gasped as his fingers touched her shoulders causing her to stop. He fastened a necklace around her neck. She fingered a string of exquisite natural pearls and spun around to face him. “I couldn’t possibly accept these.”

“Don’t deny me giving you a small gift.”

“A small gift, yes, but these most have cost a fortune.”

“They match your skin,” he said. “Creamy, soft, and the color of ivory.”

He spun her brain like a spinning top. He came on hot and cold in a matter of seconds. She couldn’t work out what was going on behind those indescribable eyes. Who was the real Will Knight? The warm and totally inviting man that stood before her now or the arrogant and compelling man that bent her to his will? If only she didn’t have this eerie fascination for him. He was such a mystery to her and one she longed to solve.

He placed his arm around her waist moving her toward the door. “My mother is a woman one doesn’t keep waiting,” he said.

They drove in relative silence until they reached Portsea. Charli gazed in admiration at the beautiful scenery, which manifested before her eyes in blue seas, limestone cliffs, and thunderous surf. Victoria’s summer social capital. Mansions and weekend cottages flourished, some of them more than a century old.

William steered the car through the wrought iron gates to the main house. Were it not for the ti-trees, the gums, and the vivid blue sky, Charli would have imagined she was in a European resort. To the left of the house was a luxurious glittering swimming pool, looking placid and invitingly blue in the late afternoon sun.