Mystique (22 page)

"How can you be so unconcerned!"
Misty demanded, her hands clenching into fists. "We'll have to walk into
that living room."

Luc shot out his wrist to
look at his watch and shook his head. "I shouldn't think so. They'll be
sitting down to dinner about now. We'll walk into the dining room."

"That's worse,"
Misty cried, sagging against him as he led her into the shower and helped her
wash the chlorine from her hair and body.

"There's a hair dryer,
darling, and an infrared lamp." He showed her where everything was.
"Don't worry."

In her embarrassment she fumbled more
than once, slowing her progress. Finally Luc fastened her dress for her.
"Ummm, I love you in silk. So sexy..."

"Luc, we're late." Misty
slapped his hand away from her thigh and glared at him when he laughed. In
spite of herself she could feel her own mouth lifting in amusement.
"You're awful."

"So sue me. I'm a bridegroom,"
he drawled, kissing the corner of her mouth, which she had just put lipstick
on.

"Luc, stop," she wailed as he
scooped her into his arms again and gave her a deep kiss. "Ohhh
..."
she moaned, "I should hit
you."

"Umm, lovely. Hit me." He
nibbled on her neck.

She pushed against his chest with both
hands. "We have to go—right this minute." Scrambling past him, she
raced out of the dressing room to the outer door.

"I think there's a law against
abusing husbands," he crooned in her ear as he followed her at a trot
along the path to the back door of the house.

Misty inhaled the warm, yeasty smell of
the kitchen just as Mabel came through the swinging door leading to the dining
room.

"Aha!" she declared, facing
them, arms akimbo. "Love may be a fine thing, but the soup's getting
cold." Misty blushed, and Luc chuckled.

"Sorry, Mabel, my darling." Luc
placed a smacking kiss on her plump cheek just before swinging wide the double
doors to the dining room and propelling Misty through them into the crowded
room. Murmured conversation and the clinking of china and silver greeted them.

"There they are," young James
caroled. "We get to stay for the soup, Aunt Misty, and then we're going to
the pool. Did you have a nice swim?"

All eyes turned to Misty as everyone
awaited her answer. "Ummm, great," Luc drawled. He let out a burst of
laughter, bringing every eye to him. The adults shot quick glances at the boys
as they, too, joined in the laughter.

"If I'd known you like
swimming that much, Aunt Misty, I would have had gone with you," Greg
interjected.

The adults' laughter grew
louder as Luc led Misty to her seat. She was burning with embarrassment,
blushing to the roots of her hair. "Thank you, dears," she mumbled to
the boys, earning beaming smiles in return.

Misty lifted a soup spoon to her mouth,
noticed that everyone was quiet, and looked up to find every eye on her. She
swallowed the soup, hoping it wouldn't go down the wrong way and returned the
spoon to the plate.

"You don't slurp," Greg
observed from across the table. "That's good. Now you won't have to leave
the table."

"And isn't that a blessing?"
Luc whispered in her ear.

"Why does Uncle Luc keep biting your
ear, Aunt Misty?" James asked.

Laughter rose again, then was masked
behind coughs and throat clearings.

"Because, James," Luc answered
for her, "Uncle Luc loves Purple Chicken."

Misty's heart seemed to soar away on a
cloud of happiness. Everyone around her was laughing. Even she was laughing.
But deep inside she knew it was a matter of deepest importance to have heard
Luc say those words.

"Love agrees with you, Mystique, my
dear." Her father-in-law leaned forward in his chair as Hawes led the
twins away from the table to go for their swim. "You're positively
glowing."

"She's beautiful," Luc said
simply, rubbing his lips against her temple in a sensual massage.

She stared at him. "Stop it,"
she whispered, flushing.

"Don't try to control Luc,
Mystique," Alice advised her. "He was always unruly as a boy."

"He was a knothead," Deirdre
announced irreverently.

"Now, girls," Mrs. Harrison
said placatingly.

Misty was stunned by the
feeling of outrage that took hold of her at Luc's sisters' teasing. They were
joking, she knew. Families often talked like that among themselves. But an
irrational part of her resented the remarks, because she remembered how her
parents had criticized her.

"Misty doesn't like you
saying that," said Celia.

Betsy giggled. "I'll
say. I remember her looking that way sometimes when we were small."

"Yes, I remember when
Roddy Gordon pulled the cat's tail," said Marcy. "Misty socked him in
the eye and brought the cat home, but Mother wouldn't let us keep it. Aunt
Lizabeth and Uncle Charlie took it. They had it for twelve years." Marcy's
voice faded as the sisters regarded one another.

"That's my girl," Luc said,
kissing Misty's cheek. "Defender of the weak and homeless."

Chuckles rose from around the table. As
Misty gazed at each of the family members, her anger faded, she lost her
self-consciousness, and the warmth of acceptance enveloped her.

After dinner everyone went into the
living room for coffee, each one settling into a favorite chair. Mrs. Harrison
sat down in front of a massive coffee service on a marble-top table.

"I suppose Mystique will play for
us," Hildebrand said with a long-suffering expression.

"Only if you pay her," Luc
snapped. "My wife is a professional musician, not a bumbling amateur like
you."

"Really, Althea! Can't you control your
son?" Hildebrand sniffed with disdain.

Mrs. Harrison seemed to consider his
comment for a moment. "No, I don't think I can. Luc has always been
strong-minded." She smiled at Misty. "Dearest Mystique, you don't
have to play, but I must say I enjoyed listening to you that evening in the
Edwardian Room when Luc took us to hear you. You have such a light touch."

Misty rose, smiling at her mother-in-law.
"Of course I'll play for you, if you like."

"Please." Mrs. Harrison beamed,
ignoring Luc's irritated gaze.

Misty went to the piano, flexing her
fingers and rubbing her wrists. She raised her hands over the keys, and Rachmaninoff
flowed forth before she had consciously made the decision to play his music.
The driving rhythms and haunting melody seemed a perfect expression of her
inner turmoil. As she swung one of his rhapsodies, she lost herself completely
in the music.

When she paused, suddenly worried that
Luc's family might have preferred to hear something lighter, there came a burst
of applause. She looked up, surprised. A sigh of relief escaped her as Luc
approached the piano.

He leaned toward her and
whispered in her ear, "I feel so proud of you. You never fail to surprise
me, darling. You play magnificently." He kissed her hand. "Would you
play 'Something Was Missing' just as you played it for me the other
night?"

Misty nodded happily. So, he
had
known she'd been playing the song
just for him that evening in the Edwardian Room. "Will you stand
there"—she pointed in front of the piano—"where I can see you?"
Luc nodded and positioned himself in the curve of the grand piano, his relaxed
stance belied by the kinetic energy flashing in his eyes.

Misty sang the lovely lyrics straight
from the heart to him.

As the last notes died away, applause
once more filled the room. "Bravo, darling, bravo," Luc murmured to
her alone.

"Oh, Luc," she began, tears
stinging her eyes.

"Gee, Misty, you're good,"
Betsy said. "I'd forgotten how well you played."

"My dear..." Tears shone in
Althea's eyes, too, as she came forward with her hands outstretched. "How
beautiful you are."

Misty basked in the sunshine of their
attentiveness. Her glance slid to her sisters, who were assuring Alice that there was no need to buy a grand piano; they had never studied music.

"But I always wanted to," Betsy
finished wistfully.

"Ha!" Alice declared, a
zealot's light in her eyes. "We shall find you a top-notch teacher on
Monday."

"Lord," Luc muttered, holding
Misty to his side, his eyes on John. "How many Steinways will you have to
buy, do you think?"

"I'm not sure," John mumbled, a
fascinated eye on his wife as she told Misty's sisters how well rounded they
would be once they had studied both music and watercolors.

"It's very good for the spirit to
paint," she finished.

"But I can't draw a straight
line," Betsy said faintly.

"Don't worry." Alice patted her arm. "I'm sure John can find a teacher who would rather work with
circles and curves than lines."

"Can you do that, John?" Luc
queried his brother-in-law, tongue in cheek.

"You're a rat," he said mildly.

"Luc, rescue him," Misty
pleaded. "Don't let Alice get all those teachers for my sisters."

Luc's eyes were like brown lasers searing
her with sudden desire. "Let's go up to our room.. .Then I'll talk to Alice." His husky words filled her with longing, but she was acutely conscious of the
people around them.

"Luc, please. Your father is looking
at us."

Luc shrugged. "I don't care who's
looking. Tomorrow when all those people arrive we won't have any time
alone."

She couldn't help but chuckle at his woeful
expression, which became thunderous when she laughed. "It's not
funny," he declared. She ran a fingernail down his nose.
"You're
funny."

"Take me to bed," he drawled,
bending over her, his hands sliding to her waist.

"Not now," she said, chuckling.
"We were in bed just a while ago."

"We weren't in bed. We made love on
the pool deck. Now I want to make love in our bed. Let's go home."

"We can't!" The blood grew hot
in her veins as Luc continued to look down at her with undisguised desire.

"Why?" He rubbed his mouth on
hers. "Your heart is beating as fast as mine." He pressed the palm of
his hand to her chest, his fingers splayed on the soft flesh.

"Luc," she whispered hoarsely
as her pulse skyrocketed. "Maybe we could
..."

They were turning to leave the room when
Hildebrand come up to them. "Well, Mystique, you really surprised
me," he said loftily. "Your technique isn't half bad." He paused
momentarily as he noticed Luc's furious expression. "Ah, you're all red,
cousin. You look—" he laughed "—as if you want to kill someone."
Hildebrand's mouth slackened as Luc lifted his hand from Misty's waist and
flexed it into a fist. "Pardon me. I have to see someone." With a
shudder Hildebrand walked stiffly away.

"Luc.;."
Misty rested her head on his chest.
"You shouldn't intimidate him like that. He thinks you're serious about
hitting him."

"I am," Luc said, hugging her
when she laughed. "Umm, I love the feel of your breasts pressed tight to
me."

"Stop!" She was
laughing out loud now, attracting the attention of several people nearby.
"Let's take a walk," he suggested. "We'll have to get our
coats."

"No. We'll walk through
the house. This place is huge. I'll show you some of the galleries that are
closed off most of the time."

Misty's skin tingled in delight as Luc
took her hand and they walked up the wide staircase. They passed through the
corridor to their room and went down another narrower hallway that lay beyond
the master suite occupied by Luc's parents. At the end, double oak doors led to
a small foyer. "This is called the turquoise wing," Luc explained,
"but I suspect the only turquoise thing here is the mold." He grinned
at her and reached up to take from the lintel a key which he inserted in the
lock. "Just as I thought—a little musty."

"It's not too bad, Luc."
Misty's whispered words echoed in the unused room. Her eyes settled on a
painting of a woman working at a loom. "That reminds me." She nodded
at the painting. "Did I ever tell you how grateful I am that you granted
Morey a loan?"

"Yes, you did. Now be quiet so I can
kiss you." Luc pulled her into his arms, and his mouth came down on hers.

"But—" Misty gasped and pulled
slightly away from him. "I don't think you realize what you did for him.
It was so kind."

"I was kind because he was your
friend. Don't make it out to be more than it was. I would have done anything to
get in your good graces."

Misty's heart flipped over. How she loved
to hear him say things like that! "It was still very kind of you,"
she insisted, "and he won't fail you, Luc. He's an excellent
designer."

"I agree. I've seen some of his
designs—the clothes you wear for work." He frowned. "Not that I like
to see you so bare..."