Born to Be Wild (32 page)

He smiled. “I’m counting on it.”

They strolled arm in arm into the dining room. Charles had poured the wine, Mrs. Fisk had set out salads, and it looked like a very happy party was about to take place, but Lauren had her doubts.

Max was annoyed.

Celeste was at her supercilious best.

And Gerald just simpered behind his rich-jerk tan.

Lauren sipped her wine and tried to make small talk, but her mother managed to steer the conversation toward wedding planning, a subject Lauren had wanted to stay away from.

“I had the loveliest lunch with Amanda Carlyle while I was in Rio,” Celeste announced. “She told me that Paige is looking for a wedding consultant, and I suggested you might be able to help her out.”

That comment seemed totally out of character for Celeste, considering how she detested Lauren being in business. Obviously Celeste hadn’t yet discovered that Paige and the rest of Palm Beach weren’t the least bit interested in Lauren’s services. “Thank you, Mother, but Paige is interviewing other planners. She wants someone with more experience.”

“Oh, yes, I know that, darling. I thought you might be able to give her some suggestions on
someone else to contact, since I knew you weren’t going to continue as a wedding planner after Betsy’s wedding.”

Lauren shoved her glass of wine to her mouth and took a healthy drink. “Paige wasn’t interested in my suggestions, Mother. But that’s neither here nor there any longer. Planning society weddings has become rather tedious so I thought I’d try my hand at something else. I’m just not sure what.”

Max frowned, studying her eyes, which she hoped didn’t reveal the sadness she felt at giving up the profession she’d thoroughly enjoyed.

Celeste merely smiled her pleasure. “You really don’t have to work, darling. There are other things you can do that are far more important.”

“Like volunteer work,” Lauren said.

“That’s a delightful idea,” Celeste chirped. “I believe there’s a charity auction being held at the club in a few weeks. Perhaps you could donate an item or two of clothing.”

“I was thinking of something a little more hands-on.” She squeezed Max’s leg under the table. “Like working at the Hole in the Wall.”

“And what, pray tell, is that?” Celeste asked.

Lauren smiled at Max, who was leaning back in his chair, apparently enjoying his wine, the conversation, and probably Lauren’s fingers, which were inching up his thigh. “It’s a place where kids—underprivileged or underloved— can go after school. They get help with their homework, play sports, hang out and talk. Max started it several years ago.”

“My word, Max,” Gerald said, “you’re quite the hero, aren’t you? Helping underprivileged kids. Taking in foster children.”

“I don’t consider myself a hero, just a man who likes kids.”

“Do any of these children who hang out at the Hole in the Wall have criminal records?” Gerald asked.

“If a kid comes in looking for help, we help them,” Max stated. “We don’t ask about their background unless they volunteer the information.”

Gerald steepled his index fingers in front of his lips. “So you don’t know if any of them have been caught stealing?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“But it could be possible?” Gerald’s continued questioning had become annoying, and Lauren could see Max’s anger building in the way his jaw continually tensed.

“Anything’s possible,” Max answered. “Of course,
you
could have been caught stealing before, and I wouldn’t know that either.”

“Why don’t we change the subject?” Lauren suggested, adding more wine to her glass. “How was Rio, Mother?”

“It was lovely, darling, until Bunny realized that her necklace was missing.” Celeste aimed her eyes at Max. “Had you heard about that, Mr. Wilde?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“It was a beautiful necklace, worth close to a
quarter of a million, and it disappeared during Betsy Endicott’s wedding.”

“You
think
it disappeared then,” Lauren corrected.

“All right, Bunny and I think that’s when it disappeared. And now I hear that a necklace of Holly Rutherford’s may have also disappeared at Betsy’s wedding.”

Lauren watched Max take a long swallow of his wine, keeping his fury in check.

Gerald leaned back, holding his glass to his mouth, staring at Max over the rim.

Celeste glared at Max, too.

Lauren wanted to scream.

“What do the police have to say about all of this?” Max asked, looking pointedly at Celeste.

“They’ve talked with numerous people but haven’t come across any leads.”

Max’s eyebrow raised a notch. “But you have your suspicions, right?”

Celeste shrugged, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “People always have their suspicions.”

“Put the wrong person in the wrong place—the people who work for
you,
for instance,” Gerald added, “and people will always talk.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Lauren blurted out. “Max’s friends wouldn’t be caught dead stealing.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Gerald said, “but gossip has a nasty habit of leaking out, and when it reaches the police, well, they could easily get suspicious. Then—”

“Then the blame gets laid in the wrong place. You know,” Max said, pushing away from the table, “I’m not in the habit of talking about other people or laying the blame on them, and I’m finding this conversation extremely dull.”

“I thought it was rather stimulating, myself,” Gerald stated. “It’s a shame you feel the need to leave so soon, especially before we’ve had a chance to taste Mrs. Fisk’s superlative meal.”

“I’ve lost my appetite.” Max tossed his napkin on top of his plate. “It was nice seeing you again, Lady Ashford.” He looked at Lauren, a hint of a smile softening the rage in his eyes. “Are you coming with me or staying here?”

Lauren didn’t hesitate in answering because there was only one thing she wanted, and that was to be with Max. She put down her napkin and reached for Max’s hand. “I’m going with you.”

“You have guests,” Celeste said, turning her controlled fury on her daughter. “It would be better if you stayed here.”

“The best thing for me is to be with Max,” Lauren threw back.

“Please don’t embarrass me, Lauren.”

“This isn’t about you, Mother. It’s about me.”

Lauren knew she should have felt guilty uttering those words. She should have been struck down by lightning for speaking to her mother that way. Instead, a sense of relief washed through her as she and Max left the house.

When they reached the Harley he pulled her into his arms. “Are you sure you want to go?”

She kissed him softly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. Now let’s get out of here.” Max slung his leg over the cycle, holding Lauren’s hand as she hiked her dress up to her thighs and slipped on behind him.

“I’m sorry about all the accusations,” she said, snuggling close, weaving her arms tightly about his waist. “I’m sorry our evening was ruined, that we didn’t have dinner—”

“I didn’t want dinner anyway.” Max kick-started the engine, then turned slightly on the seat, fixing Lauren with a pair of fiery brown eyes. “As for the ruined evening”—he grinned seductively—“you can make everything up to me when I have
you
for dessert.”

The wind whipped through Lauren’s hair as Max raced the motorcycle down Ocean Highway. Riding without a helmet was foolish and dangerous, but tonight was a night for thrills, for living wild and free.

When they reached a stretch of deserted beach that Lauren knew well, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Stop here.”

Max swerved the Harley into the hard-packed sand at the side of the road. “Some special reason you wanted to stop?” he asked, bracing his feet on the ground when they came to a halt.

“I want to show you something,” she told him, climbing off the bike. She
slipped off her heels, dropped them on the ground and walked out onto the soft, cool sand, with Max by her side. “My grandmother—
a very frugal woman,” she stated, “gave me twenty dollars for my thirteenth birthday, and my brother talked me into investing it. He said twenty dollars wouldn’t buy much, but I should see what it would get me when I turned eighteen.” She looked about her, at the beautiful spans of beach, and smiled. “This is what I ended up with.”

“Pretty smart investing,” Max said, draping his arm over her shoulder as they walked toward the water.

“I just followed Jack’s advice. He made a killing in the stock market when he was in his early twenties. You’d never know it, considering the rundown ranch house he lives in, but he’s happy.”

“Money and happiness don’t always go hand in hand.”

“I’ve found that out more than once. Still, I’d like to have them both.”

Max laughed. “Yeah, for some reason I don’t picture you as a contented housewife living in suburbia.”

“I’d rather be a contented housewife living on a stretch of beach like this,” she admitted, and hoped she hadn’t been too blatant. She was falling in love, and it was difficult to keep her feelings to herself. “I like it here because it’s close enough to Palm Beach to go shopping at a moment’s notice, and far enough away that you don’t feel like you’re being watched—and judged—all the time.”

“You don’t mind giving up that monstrosity you live in?”

She shook her head. “All I need is a place that’s big enough for a nice-sized family, but not so big that it feels lonely and empty when you’re the only one inside.”

“Do you get lonely?” he asked, squeezing her arm, drawing her close. She stretched her hands around his waist.

“I think everybody gets lonely at times.”

“I’m not interested in everybody, Lauren,” he said, stopping in the sand and turning her to face him. “I want to know if
you
get lonely.”

“You know what it’s like to be alone—”

“We’re not talking about me,” he said, his fingers digging into her arms. “I asked about
you
.”

“Yes, I get lonely. I hated being raised by a nanny, hated getting shoved off to one school after another because my mother didn’t have time for me, or because she’d married someone new who didn’t want a kid around. The only constant I’ve had in my life is Charles, and even though I love him dearly, it’s not often that a butler gives you a hug. I’ve got a brother I love, but he lives out west and we didn’t see each other all that much.”

She bit her lip, trying not to cry. “But the loneliest times of my life were during my marriages. I thought my husbands would love me, I thought I’d have children... but I was wrong on both counts.”

And then she saw the concern and warmth in Max’s eyes that wiped away the torments of her past. “I don’t feel lonely when I’m with you,” she whispered.

He cradled her face in his hands. “I’m going to
make sure you’re never lonely again,” he said, and then he kissed her, and all thoughts of loneliness disappeared.

Slowly he lowered her to the sand and moved his marvelous body over hers. They were going to make love—at last—just what she’d hoped for when she’d asked him to stop at this stretch of beach.

His heated gaze raked across her mouth, a passion that made her body flame inside. She dragged in a deep breath when his hands moved over her breasts, when he kneaded them gently, and a low moan escaped through her lips when his thumbs swirled over her sensitive nipples.

Moonlight shone on his jet-black hair, and she wove her fingers into the long unruly strands, pulling him tighter, tighter, allowing her tongue to explore and taste the sweetness of his mouth.

She’d never known a thrill like this, something so exciting and blissful that she never wanted it to end.

But it did—all too soon.

“What’s wrong?” Lauren stammered, trying to regain her senses, to understand what had caused such an abrupt halt to their lovemaking.

“I don’t want you on the beach,” Max said, pulling her up from the sand and into his arms. His hands were in her hair as if he couldn’t bear to let her go, and his mouth stayed close to her as he said, “I want you behind closed doors.
Locked
doors. I want to strip away every speck of your clothing and then I want to take my time just looking at you.”