Part 19 (1/2)
”You'll need to stay until this blows over. When it lets up, I'll drive you home.”
”That's kind of you, Mr. McKinley.”
”If it rains like this long enough, you can be my guest for dinner.”
”Oh, I - ”
”Don't disappoint me, Miss Arlington.” His voice was low, made intimate by a room darkened by the storm.
She wasn't quite certain how it happened. She turned, ready to say something - she forgot what. He turned toward her at the same moment. Lightning flashed again and thunder pealed directly overhead. A little gasp escaped her. Then his hands were holding her upper arms and his mouth was lowering toward hers, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to allow him to kiss her, to tip her head back and let him draw her closer to him as her eyes drifted closed.
His lips were warm upon hers, both gentle and demanding. She surrendered, her thoughts caught in a whirlwind, unexpected emotions careening through her. Her knees weakened, and she leaned into him lest she crumple to the floor.
Gwen had been kissed before but never like this. Never anything like this. And the storm it ignited inside her was far fiercer than the one that raged outside. By the time the kiss ended, her ability to speak had abandoned her. The same seemed to be true of Morgan, for he said nothing at all. Simply looked at her, his expression serious.
Knees still weak, she turned and moved to the piano bench. She sank onto it and waited for the world to right itself again, waited to recall the reasons she wanted to remain free of romantic entanglements. She knew she had reasons. Good reasons. The same ones she'd had since the day she fled her grandparents' home and her mother's influence and come to Bethlehem Springs.
If only she could remember what those reasons were.
TWENTY-FIVE.
”Miss Arlington didn't leave after the lesson as she did last week, sir.” Elias Spade sat in one of the large leather chairs in Harrison's library. Water dripped from his wet hair onto the shoulders of his suit coat. ”I'd guess she's waiting out the storm. It's still raining mighty hard.”
”I'm aware of that,” Harrison snapped. ”You should have stayed at your post.”
”I could see through the windows that the dining room was being set for dinner. Since it appeared she is to dine with him, I thought I would have a bite myself.”
Harrison slammed his hand upon the desk. ”I don't pay you to eat, Spade. I pay you to keep an eye on McKinley, especially when Gwen Arlington is with him.”
”Mr. Carter, I - ”
”Go have your dinner.” He motioned for Spade to get out.
And the devil take you.
As soon as Spade was gone, Harrison placed his elbows on the table, then cradled his head between his hands and ma.s.saged his temples. The pain had been increasing throughout the day, pounding, pounding, pounding until he felt like screaming.
Two of the men who served on the board of county commissioners had dropped by to see him earlier in the day. They were inclined, they'd informed him, to change their opinion - and their votes - as it related to the land use approvals requested by McKinley Apparently the visit by those three senators had influenced them. Harrison feared he wouldn't be able to change their minds back again. He was losing control over them, and his goal of acquiring the land McKinley owned was facing defeat.
He swore beneath his breath. He didn't like to lose. He wasn't used to losing. He would go to just about any length - short of murder - to win.
Not that Spade wouldn't kill McKinley if that was what Harrison wanted.
Should he consider it? No, even he wouldn't cross that line. Too dangerous. There had to be another way, a setback so huge that McKinley would give up and leave Idaho for good.
Opal Nelson, Morgan's cook, had done herself proud once again. The beef was tender and tasty, the vegetables cooked to perfection. However, Gwen didn't seem to notice or appreciate the delicious fare set before her. She ate scarcely a bite, spending far more time moving the food around on her plate with a fork.
Morgan knew he was to blame for her distress. He could tell by the way she kept her eyes downcast. No matter what interesting topic of conversation he introduced, she answered in monosyllables. Every now and again, she would glance toward the window.
The storm continued unabated.
Morgan was both glad and sorry for it. Glad because it gave him time to garner her forgiveness. Sorry because he could tell how anxious she was to leave, to get away from him.
”I'm sorry, Gwen.”
The use of her given name drew her gaze when nothing else had.
”I shouldn't have kissed you. Not without gaining your permission first. I have upset you, and that's the last thing I wanted to do.”
”Why?”
”Why don't I want you to be upset?”
She shook her head. ”Why did you kiss me?”
Her question made him want to kiss her all over again. ”Isn't it obvious? I have come to care for you. To deeply care for you.”
”That isn't possible. You hardly know me.”
”I know more than you might suppose.” He pushed aside his plate and leaned forward, forearms on the white tablecloth. ”You favor the color pink, but blue is a close second. Your favorite cologne is lilac. You are strong in your Christian faith, firm in your doctrine, and even the love you bear your father and sister could not induce you to leave the Presbyterian church. You love all kinds of flowers and take great pleasure in nurturing your garden and watching it flourish. And music speaks to your soul.”
”Mr. McKinley - ”
”You love teaching, especially your younger students. Nothing gives you more pleasure than seeing them excel. And although you are always well mannered and ladylike, you have an independent streak and as much strength of will as any businessman of my acquaintance.”
Color had returned to her cheeks. She no longer looked wan and distraught.
”Am I wrong so far?”
”Mr. McKinley, I - ”
”Am I?”
She slid her chair back from the table. ”Please, Mr. McKinley.
We should end this discussion. I should have stopped you. When you kissed me, I should have - ”
”Why? Are you promised elsewhere?” He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was not.
”No.” She stood. ”But neither do I want to be promised. Not to any man. If I have given you any other impression, I regret it.”
He rose from his chair. ”I cannot take back my feelings. They are what they are.”
Were those unshed tears he saw in her eyes or was the light in the dining room playing tricks? If they were tears, he had hope.