Her Foreign Affair (20 page)

“New York if Attenborough agrees to it. Otherwise, what’s the state of your passport?”

Helpless to stop the nervous laughter, she tried to choke it back.

“What’s so funny?” Court lifted her arm and peeked at her face.

“I’m overwhelmed, that’s what.”

He slipped an arm under her head and scooped her up against his chest, taking her with him as he lay back against the pillows. “There’s no time to do this slowly and gently. I’m greedy for you, love. I have today and tomorrow here, and a flight out on Sunday. The only question is, do I stop in New York or keep going on to London? I’m pretty sure I can talk Attenborough into New York, he might even be there now as he has family in the area. I don’t know at the moment, but I will soon. If I could, I’d put the meeting off another week and stay here. Or make him come to San Francisco.”

In Court’s arms, her cheek resting on his chest, it all seemed to make sense. New York? She hadn’t ever stopped there. With the city dressed up for the holidays it was sure to be spectacular.

Too bad Birdie still had three weeks of school, it would be fun to take her along. But that wasn’t the point, was it? The point was for Randi to spend time with Court. Shopping, dining, and loving. Did she dare? Certainly, the easy route, but was it too easy? Didn’t make it wrong, did it? Who said right had to be hard? They had history and were already past the awkward do-we-or-don’t-we stage, because they definitely had. Made love. Most of the night.

“So, is your passport current?”

Randi listened to the increasing beat of his heart. He meant it. “Passport is current.”

“Shall I have my secretary make the arrangements?”

When had she last done something so impulsive? Probably London. With Court. Look where that had gotten her. Birdie. Okay, arguably the best thing she’d ever done in her life, but still. Heaven knew there’d been nothing impulsive about her marriage to Wyatt, other than speed, but he’d been carefully selected. Everything else in her life had been plotted, planned in detail, each angle considered and analyzed. Had she ever just jumped in the car and gone for a drive without at least outlining her path? Just how exciting had her life been since then?

The jarring ring of the telephone shattered the predawn peace.

“Damn,” she muttered. “Only one person ever calls this early.” She pushed up on her elbow and reached across Court to grab the handset. A push of the button stopped the ringing. She hoped neither Birdie nor Drew had been awakened by the phone.

With no effort to disguise her sleepy voice she answered, “Good morning, Dad.”

Court’s hand settled on her back, and she rested her cheek on his far shoulder as she lay draped across his body. The hair on his chest teased her nipples, and she rubbed against it. Such a nice bed he made.

“So? I’m in suspense here. Could hardly sleep last night.”

“Nosy.” There was little point scolding him further. Six AM was as late as he’d been willing to wait to call. She should have expected it. “It went as well as it could, I suppose. We told the kids, and they went out to the hot tub to plan evil ways to make us pay. I was asleep by the time they came in, so I don’t know what they decided.”

“And what about the smooth talking Brit? Did you talk to him at all after?”

Oh gee. How to explain that one when it wasn’t any of his business? “We’ve spoken.” There, close enough.

“What’s going on there?”

“Dad, it’s early. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I have guests to tend to.” Court’s hand smoothing over her butt told her how he wanted to be tended to. “I don’t know what’s happening in the next few hours, but I suppose I should tell you now….” A long male finger slipped down between her legs, distracting her just as it was intended to. Well, okay, so she knew what was going to happen in the very near future, but Dad didn’t need to know.

“Tell me what? Why are you groaning?”

“I’m still tired. Fell asleep in the tub last night, and my neck is telling me about it. Anyhow, I want to let you know I’ve just decided to take next week off.” The large hand caressing her cupped and squeezed one cheek of her bottom.

“Take the week off? Why? You’re taking two weeks at Christmas already. And today.”

“Today is a company holiday, even if you don’t choose to recognize it for yourself. Besides, I’m caught up, and we’re in the slow season anyway. I’ll keep the laptop with me for emergencies, but I want to get some Christmas shopping done.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know yet for sure, but I’ll have my cell, so you or Birdie can reach me. I just won’t be home.”

“Where are you going?” he asked again.

“I’ll let you know when I find out. Love you.” She hung up the phone and tossed the handset to the bedside table.

“So, I guess that’s a yes to my question?” Court’s fingers dipped deeper, easing between her folds of flesh, testing her moisture, spreading it around a little…

“Yes, yes, make the reservations. I’m yours for the next week.” She twisted until she straddled his hips. Pressing up on her arms, she gazed down at him, into eyes heavily lidded with rising passion. “Although I’m still mad at you. I expect a nice hotel and show tickets for at least one night, maybe two.”

“And a car with a driver at your disposal to cart around all your purchases,” he promised, typically ignoring her declaration of ire. Granted, she wasn’t sure she believed it herself anymore.

The foot massage he’d given her in the middle of the night had gone a long way toward restoring her good humor. Not to mention there’d been other massages in the night and long, slow, sweet kisses. His hands lightly gripped her hips, then slid down her legs from thigh to calf to the feet pressed against his legs. It seemed neither one could get enough of touching the other.

“Wow, first class all the way?”

“Always. You’re a first class lady and deserve nothing less.”

“I expect you to show me your best, Mr. Robinson. Take care of next week, then we’ll talk about how to spend the next two days.”

“My best? Darling, I’ve hardly begun, but I do believe you’ve already had a sample of some of my best moves.” The thumbs rubbing her feet reminded her as her toes curled in appreciation.

“Oh, I’m sure you have more.” She leaned down, extended her tongue, and touched it to the tip of his nose.

“Is that tongue a promise or a threat?”

“Which would you prefer?”

“Oh, a promise, by all means.”

Randi pushed up until she knelt over him. Court’s hands slid to her lower abdomen. Too late she remembered and felt his hands travel along her scar, his eyes taking in the detail revealed by the dim morning light.

“Is this what you didn’t want me to see?” he asked quietly.

“Um, yeah, well, scars like this aren’t sexy.” The mood lost, she tried to move off Court, but he held her down by her thighs.

“What is it from? The hysterectomy you mentioned yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you ashamed of the scarring?”

“It’s ugly. I’m thinking about consulting with the cosmetic surgeon a friend of mine used this past summer. She’d lost a lot of weight, and he did an excellent job of tightening her up before she moved to Seattle.”

Court shifted, then flipped her onto her back with himself between her legs. His glare confused her until he slowly kissed each inch of the scar that ran from below her belly button down to the edge of her pubic hair. “This isn’t ugly. What’s ugly is the fact you were ill after giving birth to our daughter. What happened?”

Court pressed his lips to her scar again, the gesture so tender she felt the hot prickle of tears at the back of her eyes.

“I started hemorrhaging, not long after the birth, which was vaginal and not a C-section. The doctor told Wyatt it was either do surgery or watch me bleed to death.”

“They made the right choice. Battle scars are honorable marks. This is your battle scar.” Kissing her, he continued to slowly travel the length of the incision mark.

“Doc said it was one of the fastest hysterectomies he’s ever done.”

“Was recovery tough?”

“Yes. I couldn’t breast feed like I wanted to. By the time I came around—there was a bit of a problem with infection which caused the fever—my milk had dried up and she was used to the bottle. It took me all spring and most of the summer to recover. Wyatt had to hire a nurse to take care of both Birdie and me while he was at work, and then he took care of us when he got home.”

“Sounds like you had a very rough time.”

He didn’t know the half of it, but she wasn’t about to confess her depression. Or the prolonged bouts of crying alternated with bouts of staring into space praying for death. How Wyatt had managed to stick through those six months remained a mystery, but once she’d returned to school, Randi had slowly found herself coming back. Not as carefree a version of herself as she’d been, but one more mature. Able to take on the care of Birdie and resume her part of the household chores. Gratitude for Wyatt had turned into tender feeling and, eventually, love. He’d offered the plastic surgery at the time, but had also declared it would be for her peace of mind and not his. He didn’t mind the scar one bit. Said it reminded him how precious she and Birdie were to him.

“We made it through, that’s what counts,” she said softly.

“Thank God for that.” Court resumed kissing her abdomen. “I want to hear more, much more, but if I’m going to catch my secretary before she sneaks out early for the weekend, I need to call. Much as I hate to leave this very comfortable and most attractive spot.”

Randi chuckled softly and wove her fingers into his beautiful thick hair. “I understand. I’ve sort of lost the feeling myself for the moment.”

“I haven’t lost the feeling.” Court kissed her again. “But time is applying its own version of pressure. Once I get this little bit of business taken care of, I can then once more devote all my energy and attention to you and Birdie.”

“Then go. I need to check my e-mail and send out my vacation notice as well. I’ll start breakfast, and we can talk with the kids about the next couple days. Any idea what you want to do or see?”

“Wine country. I’ve tasted a few Napa Valley wines, and I want to learn more.” He gave her stomach one last kiss, then crawled up her body, kissing a trail along the way, taking time to nuzzle and worship her breasts. “I’m so…very…glad…you lived.” He ended at her lips and kissed what breath remained right out of her.

When at last he let her up for air, feeling the words in a way she never had before, she could only whisper, “Me too, Court. Me too.”

“Where do you want all this wine?” Drew asked. The first of the three cases Randi had purchased that day preceded him into the kitchen. The more than a dozen cases Court had purchased were being shipped to New York where his office would then forward the entire lot on to England.

“Keep an extensive wine cellar, do you?” Randi had asked casually.

“A modest one.”

“Compared to whom? The Ritz?”

Court had merely smiled.

“For now, just put them on the island.” Randi cleared the way of paperwork just in time for Drew to slide the box onto the granite.

Court came next with the case he carried, barely dodging his son on his way back out for the last case while Birdie set down a bag of miscellaneous knickknacks and tasty morsels they’d also purchased.

“Right there.” Randi pointed next to the other one.

“Where are you going to store this since the cooler is full?” He nodded to the under-counter appliance he’d filled with wine the day before.

“There’s room in the one by the bar. The whites and sparkling wines can go in there. The reds can go in the racks.” She waved toward the small bar on the other side of the half wall that defined the far edge of the dining area. Facing the cozy reading nook was a fireplace with a tiny bar area flanking it. “There’s a little space in here as well.” She pointed to a rack on the counter under the cabinet with the wine glasses.

“Your tea sets don’t leave much room.” The teasing smile Court gave her felt good. Every time she looked at him she felt good. Like he was dissolving the ice barrier around her heart that had entered her life upon leaving London. “How about a cuppa or two?’

“Excellent idea.” Randi turned and perused the selection of tea sets around the kitchen. The ones in here she actually used. The others around the house were strictly for show. For the four of them, hmm, the extra large cobalt blue pot would work best. “Get that one down for me, please?”

“Ah, the spiffing one.” It was easily within his grasp. “For when you want quantity as well as quality.”

Randi rolled her eyes. “And the lime green sugar and creamer nearby.”

“Colorful no less.”

“They’re cheery together.” With the storm clouds hovering on Birdie’s face as they had most of the day while she tried to find her place in her altered world, cheery was just the ticket. “Birdie, would you get out four mugs? Anyone want a turkey sandwich?”

Drew returned and nodded. “A bit of tea will hit the spot just right.”

“Do I have time to check my e-mail?” Court asked. “I want to see if Martha got back to me.”

Randi nodded. Martha, the secretary. A whiz with travel arrangements if Court’s praise was to be believed. With a light pat on her butt that made Randi want to squirm, Court left the kitchen.

“What can I do to help?” Drew asked.

“Fill the kettle and warm the pot,” Randi answered and pushed the huge teapot across the island to the side near the stove. “Darjeeling okay?”

“Fine by me.”

“Birdie? Would you get it out?”

While the kettle came to a boil, she filled the infuser with loose leaf tea. Drew poured the boiling water over it, and Birdie set the timer for five minutes.

“A timer?” Drew raised a brow.

“I don’t like it over-brewed,” Randi replied firmly, and he let it go with a twitch of his lips.

By the time Randi had sandwiches assembled, a plate of cookies arranged, and most of a pumpkin pie cut, the kids had the perfectly brewed tea and dishes on the table. Court returned in time to hold out her seat for her.