Part 2 (1/2)

”Gwen's so good at being practical,” Anabelle interjected. ”I'm sure I don't understand why. I've never been. Strange,” she said, and smiled at her daughter. ”She grew up long before I did.”

”Practicality wouldn't suit you, Anabelle,” Luke told her with an affectionate smile.

Anabelle dimpled with pleasure. ”I told you he was spoiling me,” she said to Gwen.

”So you did.” Gwen lifted her water gla.s.s and sipped carefully.

”You must sit for me, Gwen,” Bradley said, as he b.u.t.tered a biscuit.

”Must I?” Knowing the only way she could get through a civilized meal was to ignore Luke, Gwen gave Bradley all her attention.

”Absolutely.” Bradley held both the biscuit and knife suspended while he narrowed his eyes and stared at her. ”Fabulous, don't you agree, Monica? A marvelous subject,” he went on without waiting for her answer. ”In some lights the hair would be the color t.i.tian immortalized, in others, it would be quieter, more subtle. But it's the eyes, isn't it, Mon- ica? It's definitely the eyes. So large, so meltingly brown. Of course, the bone structure's perfect, and the skin's wonderful, but I'm taken with the eyes. The lashes are real, too, aren't they, Monica?”

”Yes, quite real,” she answered as her gaze flew swiftly to Gwen's face and then back to her plate. ”Quite real.”

”She gets them from her father,” Anabelle explained as she added a sprinkle of salt to her jambalaya. ”Such a handsome boy. Gwen favors him remarkably. His eyes were exactly the same. I believe they're why I first fell in love with him.”

”They're very alluring,” Bradley commented with a nod to Anabelle.

”The size, the color, the shape. Very alluring.” He faced Gwen again.

”You will sit for me, won't you, Gwen?”

Gwen gave Bradley a guileless smile. ”Perhaps.”

The meal drifted to a close, and the evening waned. The artists retreated to their rooms, and Luke wandered off to his. At Gwen's casual question, Anabelle told her that Luke ”worked all the time.” It was odd, Gwen mused to herself, that a woman as romantic as her mother wasn't concerned that the man in her life was not spending his evening with her.

Anabelle chattered absently while working tiny decorative st.i.tches into a pillowcase. Watching her, Gwen was struck with a sudden thought. Did Anabelle seem happier? Did she seem more vital? If Luke Powers was responsible, should she, Gwen, curse him or thank him? She watched Anabelle delicately stifle a yawn and was swept by a fierce protective surge. She needs me to look out for her, she decided, and that's what I plan to do.

Once in her bedroom, however, Gwen could not get to sleep. The book she had brought with her to pa.s.s the time did not hold her attention. It grew late, but her mind would not allow her body to rest. A breeze blew softly in through the windows, lifting the curtains. It beckoned. Rising, Gwen threw on a thin robe and went outside to meet it.

The night was warm and lit by a large summer moon. The air was filled with the scent of wisteria and roses. She could hear the continual hum of the crickets. Now and then, there was the lonely, eerie call of an owl.

Leaves rustled with the movements of night birds and small animals.

Fireflies blinked and soared.

As Gwen breathed in the moist, fragrant air, an unexpected peace settled over her. Tranquility was something just remembered, like a childhood friend. Tentatively Gwen reached out for it. For two years, her career had been her highest priority. Independence and success were the goals she had sought. She had worked hard for them. And I've got them, she thought as she plucked a baby coral rose from its bush. Why aren't I happy? I am happy, she corrected as she lifted the bloom and inhaled its fragile scent, but I'm not as happy as I should be. Frowning, she twisted the stem between her fingers. Complete. The word came from nowhere.

I don't feel complete. With a sigh, she tilted her head and studied the star-studded sky. Laughter bubbled up in her throat suddenly and sounded sweet in the silence.

”Catch!” she cried as she tossed the bloom in the air. She gasped in surprise as a hand plucked the rose on its downward journey. Luke had appeared as if from nowhere and was standing a few feet away from her twirling the flower under his nose. ”Thanks,” he said softly. ”No one has ever tossed me a rose.”

”I wasn't tossing it to you.” Automatically, Gwen clutched her robe together where it crossed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

”No?” Luke smiled at her and at the gesture. ”Who then?”

Feeling foolish, Gwen shrugged and turned away. ”I thought you were working.” ”I was. The muse took a break so I called it a night. Gardens are at their best in the moonlight.” He paused, and there was an intimacy in his voice. Stepping closer, he added, ”I've always thought the same held true for women.”

Gwen felt her skin grow warm. She struggled to keep her tone casual as she turned to face him.

Luke tucked the small flower into her curls and lifted her chin. ”They are fabulous eyes, you know. Bradley's quite right.”

Her skin began to tingle where his fingers touched it. Defensively, she stepped back. ”I wish you wouldn't keep doing that.” Her voice trembled, and she despised herself for it.

Luke gave her an odd, amused smile. ”You're a strange one, Gwenivere.

I haven't got you labeled quite yet. I'm intrigued by the innocence.”

Gwen stiffened and tossed back her hair. ”I don't know what you're talking about.”

Luke's smile broadened. The moonlight seemed trapped in his eyes.

”Your New York veneer doesn't cover it. It's in the eyes. Bradley doesn't know why they're appealing, and I won't tell him. It's the innocence and the promise.” Gwen frowned, but her shoulders relaxed. Luke went on, ”There's an unspoiled innocence in that marvelous face, and a warmth that promises pa.s.sion. It's a tenuous balance.”

His words made Gwen uncomfortable. A warmth was spreading through her that she seemed powerless to control. Tranquility had vanished. An excitement, volatile and hot, throbbed through the air. Suddenly she was afraid. ”I don't want you to say these things to me,” she whispered, and took another step in retreat.

”No?” The amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice told her that a full retreat would be impossible. ”Didn't Michael ever use words to seduce you? Perhaps that's why he failed.” ”Michael? What do you know about...?” Abruptly she recalled the conversation with her mother before dinner. ”You were listening!” she began, outraged. ”You had no right to listen to a private conversation!

No gentleman listens to a private conversation!”

”Nonsense,” Luke said calmly. ”Everyone does, if he has the chance.”

”Do you enjoy intruding on other people's privacy?”

”People interest me, emotions interest me. I don't apologize for my interests.”

Gwen was torn between fury at his arrogance and admiration for his confidence. ”What do you apologize for, Luke Powers?”

”Very little.”

Unable to do otherwise, Gwen smiled. Really, she thought, he's outrageous.

”Now that was worth waiting for,” Luke murmured, as his eyes roamed her face. ”I wonder if Bradley can do it justice? Be careful,” he warned, ”you'll have him falling in love with you.”

”Is that how you won Monica?”

”She's terrified of me,” Luke corrected as he reached up to better secure the rose in her hair.

”Some terrific observer of humanity you are.” Gwen sniffed, fiddling with the rose herself and managing to dislodge it. As it tumbled to the ground, both she and Luke stooped to retrieve it. Her hair brushed his cheek before she lifted her eyes to his. As if singed, she jolted back, but before she could escape, he took her arm. Slowly, he rose, bringing her with him. Involuntarily, she s.h.i.+vered as he brought her closer until their bodies touched. Just a look from him, just the touch of him, incited her to a pa.s.sion that she had not known she possessed. His hands slid up her arms and under the full sleeves of her robe to caress her shoulders. She felt her mantle of control slip away as she swayed forward and touched her lips to his.

His mouth was avid so quickly, her breath caught in her throat. Then all was lost in pleasure. Lights fractured and exploded behind her closed lids as her lips sought to give and to take with an instinct as old as time.

Beneath her palms she felt the hard, taut muscles of his back. She shuddered with the knowledge of his strength and the sudden realization of her own frailty. But even her weakness had a power she had never tapped, never experienced.