Born to Be Wild (18 page)

He plucked a heavenly looking creation from the table. “Try this.”

Lauren took a quick peek to make sure no one was looking, and bit into the flaky puff of pastry he held to her mouth. “Mmmm, it’s wonderful.”

“Caribbean brochette, with the recipe altered slightly to make it special for Betsy’s wedding.”

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”

His thumb swept slowly across her lower lip. Their eyes met and—oh, dear—his were far more intense than ever before. “I rarely do the same thing twice,” he said slowly. “I want each experience to be a little different, spicier, sweeter, sometimes hotter.”

She struggled to smile. “Henri was a wonderful caterer, but I’m sure I wouldn’t have gotten the same quality of service from him.”

A grin tilted his lips. “I guarantee you wouldn’t.”

She didn’t have to ask what he was insinuating. Without a doubt, he was talking about something that had nothing whatsoever to do with food preparation and, goodness, she liked the sway of conversation.

He grabbed a glass of champagne from Gabe’s passing tray and led her to a secluded spot behind a towering palm. “You look like you could use some of this.”

Champagne was dangerous because she got silly if she drank too much. Of course, Max Wilde was dangerous, too, probably a lot more haz
ardous than the champagne. “Are you playing the devoted servant or my friend?”

“Does it matter?”

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t. I’d also be lying if I told you that I don’t want to dance with you, or that I don’t care what my mother thinks.” She sighed deeply “You’ve totally confused my entire life.”

“What’s so confusing?”

She plucked the champagne from his fingers and took a sip. “My feelings for you.”

He backed her against the palm. Bracing one hand against the trunk, he leaned so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips. “You have some?”

“Of course I do, and they make no sense at all. First off, we don’t have anything in common, but I enjoy talking to you.” He pressed a soft warm kiss to her brow, and her toes tingled. “Second, you’re not at all like the men I’ve always found attractive, yet I find you terribly sexy.”

His lips touched the tip of her nose and she felt her legs weakening as his mouth moved to within a fraction of an inch of hers. “Then you’ll give me more than the one dance that’s in our contract?”

The heat of his eyes mesmerized her. The deepness of his voice and the slow way he spoke rendered her speechless, but she didn’t need words to give him an answer. She closed her eyes and leaned toward his lips—

“Excuse me, Miss Remington.” Charles’s dis
tinctive throat clearing brought the almost-kiss to an abrupt halt.

Lauren’s eyes popped open and all she saw was Max’s grin. Charles, always terribly proper, was nowhere to be seen, but she knew he was close. Peeking around the palm, Lauren smiled at the gentleman who was a picture of propriety. “What is it, Charles?”

“I wanted to advise Mr. Wilde that the young boy who’s serving the guests—”

“Ryan?” Max asked. “What’s he done?”

“Nothing more than admire the...
necklaces
on several of our female guests.”

“Christ!”

Lauren touched Max’s arm, wondering why he was suddenly so agitated. “There’s nothing wrong with Ryan looking at the jewelry.”

“It’s not the jewelry he’s interested in.”

“Then what?”

Lauren could see the tightening in Max’s jaw. “He’s fourteen and recently discovered the female anatomy, particularly breasts. It’s not the necklaces he’s looking at, it’s what’s beneath them.”

Charles offered an uncharacteristic chuckle, but instantly wiped the mirth from his face. “I would be happy to keep an eye on him for you, sir.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll have a little talk with him right this minute.”

Max stalked off before Lauren could say another word, which was just as well. She’d
already divulged too much. What was it about Max that made her pour out her heart and soul, not to mention far too many of her secrets? How could he so completely draw her under his spell? The man, not to mention her feelings for him, was totally perplexing.

She took another sip of her champagne as she watched Max disappear into the throng of guests.

“Miss Endicott’s wedding is going quite well,” Charles said, “and I’ve heard several guests comment on the delectable canapés. I believe Mr. Wilde was the perfect choice.”

“Yes, he’s very good at what he does,” she admitted, wishing she’d had the opportunity to try out a few more of his skills.

“If there’s nothing I can do for you now, I’ll see to your guests.”

“Before you go, Charles, tell me, have you ever wanted to be something other than a butler?”

“I don’t believe I have. My father was a butler. His father and his father before him served the finest of families. It’s what I was born to do. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, taking another quick taste of bubbling wine. “I was born to this, too, but sometimes... sometimes I wish I could let my hair down and be a little more wild.”

“I may have been born a butler,” he said, crossing his arms behind him, “I may love my work, but that doesn’t mean I dress in formal clothes and serve people on my days off.”

“What do you do, Charles? You’d think I’d know after twenty-eight years together.”

“I bird watch, occasionally I fish, and I’ve been known to sit in with one or two jazz bands around town and play piano. I quite enjoy it.”

This was a side of Charles she’d never imagined, and now she wondered why he stayed with her when he had so many other interesting pursuits.

“Have you ever thought of playing piano for a living?” she asked.

“I did once or twice when I was younger. In the end, I chose what made me happiest, and that was taking care of you. I still have my love for playing the piano, though, and that gives me the best of both worlds.”

She smiled at his heartening sentiment. “Do you think I could have both worlds?”

Charles nodded. “I do believe you could have anything you wanted.”

“Thank you,” she said, lightly kissing his cheek, an uncommon gesture, for sure, but one that was long overdue.

“You’re quite welcome, Miss Remington,” Charles said, a slight blush tinging his cheeks. “Now, I believe I should see to your guests.”

Charles was gone in an instant, and not for the first time, Lauren realized how blessed she was to have him in her life.

Slipping away from the palm, Lauren mixed into the crowd, trying to look as if she’d always been there. Her mother was deep in conversation with Chip, the waiters were walking about, serv
ing the guests as if it were something they did every day, and Max was inconspicuously escorting Ryan away from Bunny Endicott, whose hand was clasped across her chest.

Of all people, why had Ryan picked on Bunny?

Breezing between guests, greeting everyone in her wake, thanking all the ladies who commented on the beauty of her seafoam-green silk crepe Valentino sheath, Lauren finally reached Bunny’s side. “Hello, Bunny.”

“The strangest thing just happened,” Bunny whispered, her face registering complete and utter disbelief. “There was a child here asking all sorts of questions about my necklace. You don’t think he could be a front, do you?”

“What do you mean, a front?”

“One of those people who scout out parties, looking for jewelry and other expensive things to steal, before he calls in his accomplices.”

Lauren laughed lightly. “I’m positive he’s not a front. Your necklace is stunning, and I’m sure he just wanted to check it out.”

“Yes, the necklace is stunning,” Bunny quipped, “but the child was absolutely obsessed with staring at my chest. And that, of course, made me think he might be doing something else.”

“What?”

“This might sound rather vain, and you know I’m not the least narcissistic, but I do believe he might have been checking out my... breasts.” Bunny whispered the word as if it were sacred.

If it was anyone other than Bunny, Lauren wouldn’t have been able to smile. But this was Bunny Endicott, who’d not-so-secretly gone under the knife and went from a 32AA to a 34C, and was anxious for everyone to notice. How could Ryan possibly pass up the opportunity to ogle the woman who walked around with her 34Cs thrust forward for everyone to see?

Bunny clasped her hand to her chest again. “Do you think anyone else has been
staring
at my... breasts?”

“I should hope not.”

Bunny drew her shoulders back a little further, trying to make her 34Cs look like 34Ds. “It’s quite embarrassing to think people are looking, so why don’t we keep this our little secret?”

“I wouldn’t think of telling a soul.”

“You are such a dear,” Bunny said, then sailed across the patio, more than likely in search of Celeste, Lady Ashford, who loved to share anything the least bit scandalous.

At the far side of the pool Lauren saw Max’s daughter picking through the desserts, the same thing Lauren had done when she was a child. She hadn’t met Jamie yet, and wondered if she was half as precocious as her brother, although that seemed highly unlikely. Walking toward the little girl, Lauren plucked a glass of champagne from Jazz’s tray, and complimented her on doing such a nice job.

“Thank you,” Jazz said, a touch of animosity apparent in her soft voice.

When she’d seen Jazz at the Hole all she’d noticed was her platinum hair and wealth of tattoos. Now Lauren saw that Jazz had big blue eyes, a long, graceful neck, and elegant hands.

Lauren took a quick sip of the Dom Perignon, and attempted to make amends with Jazz for all the horrid things she’d thought about her. “I suppose Max told you I had my doubts about you and Gabe working here today.”

“He told us,” she bit out.

“You must despise me for that.”

Jazz shrugged. “I meet all kinds of people in my line of work, and I’ve been called more names than I can count.”

Lauren frowned at her statement. “What kind of work do you do?”

“Stand on street
corners and solicit unsuspecting souls.”

Lauren’s eyes widened
. She’d never met a prostitute before, let alone been served by one. She downed the glass of champagne, put the empty on Jazz’s tray, and grabbed another. “Are you happy in that line of work?”

“Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” Jazz grinned. “It pays well, the work’s stimulating, although it’s sometimes exhausting, and sadly I can’t handle more than two or three men a night.”

“You’ve taken care of two or three in one night?” Lauren asked, completely aghast.

“My record’s six, but I was able to handle three at once.”

Lauren felt faint. “Do you ever get frightened?”

“Rarely. I’m trained in martial arts and I carry a gun.”

“Isn’t that against the law?”

Jazz grinned as she took Lauren’s second empty glass of champagne and handed her another. “Not when you’re a vice cop.”

It took merely half a second for the words
vice cop
to register. “I have an annoying way of jumping to conclusions. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

Jazz’s blue eyes warmed, and she touched Lauren’s shoulder lightly. “I’m afraid I’m the one who should apologize this time. I led you on.”

“I suppose I deserved it.”

“Then why don’t we consider ourselves even,” Jazz said, holding out her hand in friendship and Lauren grasped it tightly.

“I’ve been thinking of teaching the girls at the Hole how to spot come-ons and pick-up lines,” Jazz said. “Most of them live in a rough part of town and they’re susceptible to far too many jerks. Maybe you’d like to help?”

“Me? I don’t know the first thing about teenagers, and I’m afraid the only thing I could teach anyone is how to pour tea and serve watercress sandwiches.”

“It wouldn’t hurt for the girls to learn some manners. You could start out slowly, volunteer an hour or two a week.”

The thought of being with all those kids sounded... interesting. But she wasn’t a teacher, hadn’t been good in school, so how could she
possibly help the kids at the Hole? “Could I think about it? I’ve got a lot of work with my business and—”

“Thinking’s quite
all right,” Jazz told her.” The kids are tough, most of them—including the girls—spout words that would turn your ears scarlet, and sometimes they’re a little intimidating. They need encouragement, not to mention role models. But the job’s not for everyone.”

“Why do you do it?”

“I grew up on the streets. So did Gabe, but neither one of us wanted to settle for the life we knew. We went to school, I became a cop, Gabe a social worker, and we both ended up back on the streets, trying to help others.”

“What about Max and Bear?”

“Max was on the streets, too, until Philippe—his foster dad—took him in. Bear was a renegade rich kid. He ran away from home, ended up living off and on with Philippe and Max, and finally realized he didn’t want to. be broke. He went back home then headed for college and became a dentist.”