Lotus Blossom (21 page)

“But he isn’t,” Lotus began, then she realized she was standing in front of a tall, gray-haired woman, whose full figure was still graceful and an even taller silver-haired man with a spare, still muscled frame. “Hello.” She could feel a smile tremble across her face.

“My dear.” Mrs. Colby embraced her. “Do call me Lissa. Everyone does, even my children. You are quite lovely.”

“Indeed.” Mr. Colby kissed both Lotus’s cheeks. “Dash is a lucky man.”

“Dasher always had good taste,” Lissa Colby told Lotus.

“Especially in women,” James Wells said to his wife, who shushed him.

Dash glared at his former roommate when he saw Lotus blush. She’d heard that! Dash ground his teeth. God, what a nightmare it was going to be. None of them would spare her! They would trot out all the things he’d done with names and dates, from the age of six months, he thought bitterly. It tore at him that he didn’t want his wife to know what a traveling man he’d been with women, that though he was sure she had guessed about some of his life, he didn’t want the lurid details that had meant nothing to him before he met her to be put in front of her now. He went to her side and leaned down to kiss her ear. “Isn’t she beautiful, Lissa?”

“Yes,” his mother said, giving him a smug smile.

Dash glared at her. She had been plotting to marry him off from his seventeenth birthday when he had been accused of fathering Lydia Helmsley’s baby. He hadn’t been the father, but only his own father had believed him and extricated him from the predicament. From then on his mother had considered it a mission to get him married and off the streets, since he was a menace to helpless women. Her words, not his. Dash ground his teeth as he remembered the countless times she had told him he must marry and settle down and stop besmirching the Colby name.

“No doubt, my dear, you want Dasher to give up his gambling houses and take his place in the family business,” Lissa began, gesturing for Lotus to take her place on the settee across from her as she signaled Timmons to bring a tray of wine.

Lotus stared at the gleam in her mother-in-law’s eye. “I have no plans to change Dash’s life.”

Someone sucked in a breath. Another whispered, “Oh, oh.”

Lissa studied the diminutive figure across from her in the petal pink suit, the almond-shaped green eyes unwavering. “I see.”

Dash leaned over the back of the settee and kissed the top of his wife’s head.

Lotus stiffened. He should have told her! The fact that he had tried to explain his family to her didn’t penetrate the haze of anger building up inside her. His family was in fishing! Damn him! They no doubt owned half the East Coast! She was going to punch him in the nose at the first opportunity, she promised herself, taking the wineglass from the tray that Timmons was proffering and quaffing the contents.

“Good Lord, she drinks,” James announced, chuckling.

“Honey, you always drink Perrier.” Dash took the glass from her, glaring at his brother-in-law.

“I’ll have another,” Lotus said through her teeth. “Mrs. Colby . . .”

“Call me Lissa, dear.”

“Lissa, I come from a very hard-working family in Rochester, New York.”

“I’ve heard of Rochester, Minnesota.” “We have cameras and lilacs in our town.” Lotus took a deep breath.

“That sounds like Tokyo,” Lissa said helpfully.

“We had them first ... I think . . .” Lotus blinked at the full glass of wine in her hand. “Where was I? " 

“You were telling us how much your city of Rochester is like Tokyo.” Lissa helped her.

“Lissa,” Dash muttered softly.

“I was not. I can’t even remember Tokyo that well. I remember Mt. Fujiyama though. We skied there.” Lotus tried to salivate in her dry mouth.
Amazing how wine made you dry,
she mused, sipping hers. Then she looked at her father-in-law. “I’ve lost my place.”

“Cameras, my dear. I own a great deal of Kodak film,” Zachary Colby told his daughter-in-law.

“Good.” Lotus blinked at him, wishing she hadn’t taken another glass of wine on an empty stomach. She swallowed, then set down her glass.

“I’ll get you seltzer water, darling.” Dash signaled to Timmons who brought her a tall, fizzing glass filled with ice.

“Have I met everyone?” Lotus asked Dash when he bent over her.

“Not everyone. You haven’t met Alan or my other two brothers-in-law and their children, but you will,” Dash told her.
God, she’s a bit tipsy. I had better get her out of here.
“You’re tired, darling. Come along. We’ll take a nap.”

“I’ve heard of anxious, but this is ridiculous,” James said, and smiled at his former roommate, who glared at him.

“I think I would like a nap,” Lotus said. She felt as though her smile had turned to rubber bands as she looked at each member of the family, then rose to her feet. “Flying is tiring.” She licked her dry lips. Lotus scarcely noticed the chuckles behind her as she left the room with her husband. "It was interesting to meet your family.”

“Wasn’t it
¹
?” Dash grated, leading her up two flights of stairs to the third floor where they would be staying.

Lotus could feel tears filling her eyes as she turned to face her husband. “I suppose you feel like drowning me in the Charles River after the spectacle I made. You see, I’m not much of a drinker.”

“I know.” Dash went to her, his arms outstretched. He never expected her next move.

Lotus kicked him in the shin, then watched him hop around the room, repeating over and over, "Why in hell did you do that?”

“Because you should have told me that your family was wealthy, and not try to mislead me by telling me they were fishermen and that you were supporting them.” She sounded out each syllable of the words.

“I tried to tell you, but you chose not to believe me or accept what I said.”

“I was duped,” she told him, heaving a big sigh. "I think I’ll take a nap. I assume I will meet the rest of that pirate’s nest this evening.”

“At dinner,” Dash said, and scowled as she peeled the clothes from her body. He wished he didn’t react so markedly to her.

She turned and saw his arousal. “Sorry. I have a headache.” She beamed at him. Then she walked over to the oversized canopy bed, pulled back the quilt, and slid under it. She was asleep in minutes.

“A headache!Damn you, brat.” Dash could feel his lips lifting in a reluctant smile. “Kicking me in the leg, then telling me you have a headache, and all on the day after our wedding.” He stripped off his own clothes and slipped under the quilt beside her, pulling her curled-up body into his arms.

“Dash,” she muttered, smiled, then went deeper into sleep.

“Darling, I love you.” He felt her body wriggle against him and stifled a groan.

When Lotus woke, it took her minutes to orient herself. The first thing she recognized was the warmth at her back. Dash was with her! She relaxed at once. Even when she remembered that she was irritated with him about his family, it didn’t lessen her contentment at being enfolded in his arms.

“Hello,” he spoke in her ear, feeling her body come out of sleep.

“Hello.” She turned to face him. “I shouldn’t have kicked you. I was angry.”

“I guessed.”

“Will you forgive me?” Lotus said.

“I’m sorry,” Dash said at the same time.

They laughed, holding each other.

When he saw the tiny frown lines in her face, he shook her gently. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t think your family thinks I’m right for you.”

“Stuff what they think. Besides, I disagree. I think both my parents were delighted with you. I know them. Mother wouldn’t try her verbal sparring with just anyone. She usually reserves that for someone in the family or someone she wishes were.”

“Really?” Lotus exhaled a relieved breath. “I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”

Dash kissed her. “I think they like you . . . especially my sisters who are the most critical.” He kissed her mouth. “But I also should tell you, I don’t give a damn who likes you or doesn’t like you. You’re mine and I love you. Nothing else is important.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The two days that Dash and Lotus had intended to stay in Boston turned into five.

On the fifth day Lotus decided to take a walk through the historical area called the Freedom Trail. She remembered reading about it in the Sunday
New York Times,
but she had never actually seen it.

She looked out the bedroom window in the suite where they had been staying and thought about the days she had spent with Dash’s family. They were as rambunctious and fractious as her own! She smiled to herself as she thought of all the things they’d done . . . even sculling on the Charles River with Alan, Dash’s younger brother. She sighed as she remembered the scene when she had returned to the house. Dash had been furious!

“How dare you take my wife out on the river?” He spat the question at his brother, whose eyebrows had risen, but who had shown no agitation at being addressed in such a fashion.

“She was bored. You and Dad spend all your time at his office, and when you’re here, you’re always calling Las Vegas about the deal you have cooking there. Lotus is on her honeymoon, not a business trip.”

Lotus recalled how she had opened her mouth to tell Alan that he was wrong, that she hadn’t been bored, but then she had looked at Dash and gasped.

Blood chugged into his face, filling every pore. His hands had clenched and unclenched at his sides.

I fully intend to show her Boston.”

“When? Next year? Lissa is up to her hips in the Symphony Ball we are all attending Friday night . . .”

“Don’t be flip, Alan darling. You know the girls and I work on this every year,” his mother had answered calmly, looking askance at her older son. “I, for one, have never approved of Dasher’s way of life. Gambling is abhorrent to me and my family.” “Ah, yes, we mustn’t forget the very boring Hathaways, Lotus. You’ll meet them Friday night . . . and forever wish you hadn’t.” Alan waxed dramatic as he rolled his eyes and minced across the room to Lotus. “Dah-ling, what a divine corn you have on your left foot. You must tell where you got it ... or I shall die.”

“Alan.” His father coughed reprovingly.

“All of this has nothing to do with you taking Lotus out onto the river in a shell. She could have been dumped into the water,” Dash said, whitefaced, stopping all conversation when he took two giant strides toward his wife and lifted her into his arms, cradling her there.

“Dash . . ." Lotus hissed, pushing at his chest, trying to free herself. “Nothing is wrong with me.” “Are you sure?” Dash scowled. “You look tired.”

“Is she an invalid, dear?” Lissa inquired.

“Of course not.” Lotus felt herself turning red. “Put me down or I shall kick you in the kneecap,” she muttered at him through clenched teeth.

“What did she say about a cap?” Dash’s sister, Ann, walked into the room, two gangling teenagers at her side. “I brought the boys.”

“I think she wants a night cap,” Lissa said brightly.

“At four in the afternoon?” Dash’s father looked interested.

“She didn’t say that.” Dash glared at his mother. “She said she was going to kick me in the kneecap.”

“That I’d like to see.”

“Alan!” Ann pursed her lips. “Not in the drawing room.”

Alan shrugged. “We can go outside.” He rubbed his hands together, making his nephews grin at one another.

“Roger. Delbert. Don’t dare enter into any schemes with your uncle,” Ann instructed her sons.

The boys looked at one another, then away from Alan.

“You can’t keep them from thinking, Annie,” Alan jibed.

Roger cleared his throat. “We’re on the rowing team, Aunt Lotus. If you would like to go out. .

“No,” Dash had roared, then put his arm around his wife and led her from the room.

Lotus sighed as she remembered how embarrassed she had been to go down to dinner that evening because of the fuss, but the family not only didn’t mention it, it wasn’t even alluded to in any way.

Now, Lotus dropped the sheer drape she had
212

been holding back from the mullioned window, and turned to don her sweats and running shoes. She would jog along the Freedom Trail, perhaps stop at Quincy Market, maybe even have a bowl of chowder at one of the open stalls in the market or have lunch at Durgin Park.

The house was quiet when she descended the stairs from their suite. She had left a note for Dash, telling him what she was going to do, even though she might be back before he returned. The lawyers had called that morning and told him that there was a snafu in closing the deal and they wanted him to hook into a conference call that afternoon with them. That’s what he was doing in his father’s office.

She left the house and went down into the front yard area to warm up before she would begin. Then she started a very slow jog along the street and down to the area that was marked as the beginning of the Freedom Trail. She moved slowly not only to pace herself but because she wanted to see everything as she moved.

When she came to the narrow alley where so many bakeries were located, and she could smell the warm bread, her mouth began to water and she wished that she had decided to go to Quincy Market first. There she could have sat down at a table.

She ignored the wonderful smells and continued on her way to the Old North Church of Paul Revere fame. After a while she was down near the docks and she could make out the buildings of the huge public market known as Quincy Market.

She paused outside the market to catch her breath, walking the tiled area in front of Faneuil

Hall to cool down. She took a drink at a fountain and with a tissue she dabbed some of the water on her face.

She walked across the plaza and through the doors of the market to the area of shops that lined the inside. As she was bent over a deli case of fresh fruit and vegetables, she felt a hand pat her backside. Fists high, she turned around to belt the nuisance who dared to touch her. “Dash!” she exclaimed.

“Close your mouth,” he told her gently, then leaned over to place his lips on hers. “Timmy said you had only been gone a few minutes when Father and I arrived home. I wanted to be with you.” He pulled her closer to whisper in her ear, “You look gorgeous in those pink sweats.”