Falling for You (13 page)

Allison rose and crossed to the window. The light had gone from rosy to golden, and the sky promised a clear, cloudless day. Perhaps it was wrong to compare Rory’s situation to what she had lived through so many years ago, but the parallels were too similar. Except that Rory wasn’t sixteen. Oh, but that desperate, foolish expression she saw in her sister’s eyes was exactly what she had felt. Before she’d learned how cruel love could be. Defiantly, she lifted her chin. “There’s nothing wrong with leading a simple, quiet life.”

“Quiet is one thing,” Rory said. “Dull is another.”

“You are so like Mom.” Just as she had been once, so full of life and willingness to love. Resting her forehead against the glass, she tried to block out the painful memories tumbling through her. “Not everyone needs constant excitement to be happy.”

“I know that,” Rory said quietly. “And if Chance were in love with this Paige person, that would be one thing. But he’s not. I think... I think he’s in love with me. As much as I am with him. Or could be. Except no one wrote ‘fall in love with Aurora St. Claire’ on his calendar, so he won’t relax and let it happen. I wish he would, though, because I can make him so happy. He needs me, Alli. He needs me to show him life doesn’t have to be planned down to the nth degree. Sometimes it can just be lived.”

“Except”—Alli squeezed her eyes shut—“he’s one of
them
, Rory. People of his class live by different rules.”

Silence descended. She felt her sister’s stunned gaze on her back. “You think he’s like Peter, don’t you?” The words held a slight edge of hurt. “Alli, he’s not. He would never lead me on with lies just so he could...”

Rory’s words trailed off since the subject had been off limits for the past ten years. The way Peter had lied to her, seduced her, and then bragged about it to the whole football team afterward was not something any of them discussed. Just as they had never discussed Adrian’s bloody knuckles and Peter’s battered face. Assault charges had been filed against Adrian, she knew, but the whole thing had been swept under the carpet, thanks to her aunt blackmailing Peter’s father with the name of the stage actress he’d been seeing in Houston.

While her family’s loyalty had helped her cope with the rejection then and now, it still boiled down to the fact that the offspring of the Galveston elite did not marry girls from the wrong families. They might use them for their own amusement, but they did not marry them.

“Allison,” Rory said from close behind her. A gentle hand came to rest on her back. “Chance isn’t a user. I know he isn’t. Can’t you give him the benefit of the doubt and be happy for me?”

“For you, I’d do anything.” Forcing her fears aside, she turned and hugged her sister. “Just be careful, Rory. Don’t get your heart so set on him that you leave yourself open for hurt. Take it slow, okay?”

“Of course.” Rory pulled back with a smile, but Allison could see from the look in her sister’s eyes that it was too late. Rory never did anything in half-measures. She’d lost her heart to Oliver Chancellor, and she’d lost it completely.

~ ~ ~

Rory saw Chance the minute she entered the bank lobby with Adrian and Allison. He stood behind the counter, talking to one of the tellers. She was startled to see him in a suit. After two weeks of seeing him in shorts and golf shirts, she’d almost forgotten how intimidating he looked wearing business clothes.

And how at home he looked within the hallowed walls of the Liberty Union Bank.

Still, her heart swelled at the sight of him. When he looked up, their gazes locked. Her body tingled with memories of his touch. For a moment, he returned her smile, but then his cheeks darkened and he glanced away. Excusing himself from the teller, he came around the counter to greet them.

“Adrian.” He shook hands with her brother, than nodded to both her and her sister. She waited for him to smile and notice the care she’d taken getting dressed in khaki slacks and sky-blue shirt. She’d even tamed her hair into a neat ponytail. But he acted as if she weren’t even there.

“I’m glad the three of you could make it,” he said to Adrian. “Brian always likes to meet all the parties involved when considering a loan. Especially one this size.”

“None of us would have missed it,” Adrian said. “And we appreciate all your help on this.”

“Don’t mention it.” Chance motioned toward the hall leading to the offices. “Why don’t you come on back?”

Adrian fell in step beside Chance, asking if he’d seen the Astros game the evening before. While Chance mumbled something about being too busy helping Aurora with the business plan, Allison gave her a pitying look.

She smiled to assure Alli it was nothing. Chance was just being circumspect. He was not a spoiled, rich jerk like Peter, who thought he could use and discard people at will.

And yet, a little seed of doubt crept into the back of her mind. Was he ashamed of what they’d shared last night? Or of people finding out there was something going on between them? And people would find out if they continued to see each other —which she assumed they’d be doing.

But what if Chance wasn’t planning to see her again? Or to only see her in secret? Well, he better not be thinking the latter, or he’d certainly get an earful from her. She wouldn’t be anyone’s secret lover on the side.

“Here we are,” Chance announced as they reached an open door halfway down the hall. “Brian?” he called to the man behind the desk. “The St. Claires are here.”

“Ah, yes.” A tall, dark-haired man rose, smoothing his conservative striped tie. He had an angular face and dark hair that had gone silver at the temples. “I’m glad to finally meet you.” He spoke in the unfamiliar tones of a Northerner, and his formal manner put Rory instantly on guard. When the introductions were done, Chance started to leave.

“Hang on,” she said, and stepped back into the hallway with him, just out of earshot of the others. She searched his face, wishing she could read his eyes, but he stared at the floor. “Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” he said, pushing his glasses up.

A sick feeling settled in her stomach. This morning, he’d held her and kissed her as if he didn’t want to let her go. Now he wouldn’t even look at her. “Will you call me later?”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “It’ll take several days for the loan committee to make a decision.”

His impersonal tone hit her like a slap in the face. “I see,” she said numbly. “Well, then, I guess I better let you go.”

She turned on wooden legs, her insides shaking.

“Aurora?” he called. When she looked back, his gaze met hers. He searched her eyes as if he had more to say than words could express. Then he sighed and offered her a sad smile. “Good luck. I mean that.”

“Thank you.” She turned and left him standing there, telling herself over and over she was wrong. Chance hadn’t just told her goodbye. He’d call her that evening, ask when he could see her again. Everything would be fine.

But her heart ached with doubt.

Chance stood back, watching Aurora scrub down the seats on a pontoon boat docked beside a sign reading: Captain Bob’s Big Bay Boat Tours. The green awning over the passenger area shaded her from the afternoon sun, but a fine sheen of perspiration glistened on her tanned back. In deference to the temperature and the wet job, she’d shed her shirt, so only a fluorescent-orange bikini top and blue shorts covered her body.

God, he missed her.

For a solid week he’d thought about calling her every time he saw a phone. He knew he should have called at least once, but he could never figure out what to say. Perhaps silence was better than hurting her more by saying the wrong thing. Even so, he’d had to fight the urge to turn his car toward her house every time he drove down Broadway. Seeing her now—wielding a soapy sponge and singing along to some tune in her head—he wondered how he’d managed it. And how he would manage to walk away once he delivered his news.

“Yo, Rory!” the man Chance recognized as the boat driver called from the metal building that sat on the concrete pier. The tour boat office provided a sharp contrast to the upscale shops and restaurants that stood beyond it. “I just took a reservation for ten people, so I guess we’ll be going out one more time today, after all.”

She straightened with her back still to Chance. “But I’m almost finished scrubbing down.”

“Sorry, beautiful.” The man gave her a wink that made Chance’s hackles rise. The boat captain had a broad, hairy chest and six-pack abs revealed by the open white shirt. He also looked as disreputable as the building. “Tell you what—I’ll clean her when we get back.”

“You will not.” Aurora laughed at the man. “You’ll leave it for me to do in the morning, you lazy bum.”

“Hey, watch who you’re callin’ lazy.” The man pulled on the bill of his captain’s cap. “And that’s Captain Lazy Bum to you.”

“I’ll watch you, all right.” She picked up the bucket at her feet and held it as if preparing to drench him, even though he was too far away. Playing along, the man jumped back inside.

Rory was still laughing when she turned around—and saw Chance standing on the pier. Her smile faded slowly. Had it been only a week or a lifetime since she’d seen him? How could she have forgotten how wonderfully proper he looked in his neat button-down shirt and suit slacks? He’d slung the jacket over one shoulder, but hadn’t gone so far as to loosen his tie.

Her heart gave a happy leap that made her so mad, she wanted to dump the bucket of dirty water over his head. How dare he ignore her for a week after they’d made love, then show up out of the blue looking as if nothing had ever passed between them?

He started toward her, and she told herself she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of acting upset.

“Aurora,” he said in greeting when he reached the boat. He actually had the nerve to smile—although it was a sad excuse for one. And his eyes... dammit! He had no right to look at her in that hungry way that made her insides quiver. The jerk!

“Chance, what a surprise.” She smiled right back at him as her hand tightened on the bucket handle. “We don’t see too many suits down here on the pier.”

“No, I guess not.” He looked tired, she realized. “I came to tell you, the bank made its decision. I asked Brian to let me deliver the news in person, rather than have you find out over the phone.”

The bottom of her stomach dropped out. “Oh, my God.” She pressed a hand to her throat and waited for him to smile. He didn’t. And she knew. “They said no.”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes filled with empathy. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“But—” She glanced around, trying to get her bearings. “Why? We gave them reams of paperwork! Showed them all the figures you came up with! How could they turn us down?”

He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. “Some of the members of the loan committee were concerned about your lack of business experience. Just as I’d feared.”

“Lack of business experience!” She set the bucket down before she dropped it. “Well, how the heck are we supposed to get experience if we don’t have a business?”

“That’s always the Catch-twenty-two.”

“Well, fine!” She scooped up the sponge and started scrubbing down seat cushions with a vengeance. “We’ll just go to a different bank. Or go with my first idea and use our savings to buy the house, then use the house as collateral for a loan.”

“Aurora, no.” He stepped from the pier onto the boat, which sent it rocking. “We discussed that weeks ago. You should never risk your entire life savings on a business venture. If the business fails, you’ll lose everything.”

“You don’t think we can do it, do you?” She whirled on him with sponge in hand, sending drops of dirty water toward him with an angry gesture. “Is that what you told them?”

“Of course not.” He jumped back, brushing at his pants. “You know me better than that.”

“Actually, I don’t think I know you at all.” She flung the sponge into the bucket and water sloshed onto his leather shoes. “I certainly never guessed you were a—a user!”

His head jerked up. “I was up front with you from the very beginning. You knew all along that I planned to marry Paige.”

“But you aren’t even involved with her!”

“Of course I’m involved with her. Our families have been close friends for years.”

“But...” Her chest tightened. “Not once the whole time I was at your place did the two of you share so much as a phone call.”

“What was I supposed to do?” he demanded. “Call Paige and ask her out when I had another woman sitting in my spare bedroom?”

“I wasn’t ‘another woman.’ I was someone you were helping. And maybe if you’d called her a couple of times, or at least talked about her, I wouldn’t have gotten the wrong idea.”

“What wrong idea?”

“That... that you were interested in me.”

“God, Aurora.” His expression softened. “I—I don’t know what to say. I’m attracted to you, yes, but it takes more than that to make a relationship work. And we’re totally mismatched.”

The horrible thought came to her that Allison was right. Chance wasn’t any better than Peter. Except Chance had the grace to face her and, as far as she knew, he wasn’t bragging behind her back. Still, the rejection hurt. “You’re wrong, you know, about us being mismatched. I think we’re perfect for each other.”

“ ‘Perfect for each other’?” He looked at her as if she were insane. “We’re complete opposites.”

“I know!” She all but stomped her foot.

He pushed his forefinger and thumb up under his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Christ, I’m never good at this sort of thing. Look, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I never meant to hurt you.”

She lifted her chin. “I didn’t say you hurt me.”

He dropped his hand and gave her an irritated look for so blatant a lie. “And I’m sorry about the loan. I know you had your heart set on starting a B and B.”

“If you think I’m going to give up just because your bank turned us down, then you don’t know me very well.”

“Aurora, be reasonable.” He started to step toward her, then apparently thought better of it when she retrieved the dripping sponge. He held his hand up as if to ward her off. “You can’t
make
something happen just because it’s what you want. Determination is fine, but you have to balance it with good sense.”

She resumed scrubbing. “You also can’t give up at the very first obstacle you reach,” she countered. “It takes courage and hard work to make dreams come true, and a willingness to take a few chances. What about you, ‘Chance’? Have you ever taken a chance in your entire life? Or are you too afraid to step off the safe path your parents set you on? Of course, considering the path you were born to, I guess you don’t have to take chances to get what you want. Well, not everyone has that luxury.”

“I see.” His back straightened with offense. “Fine, then. If you want to throw your family savings away, that’s your business.”

“It certainly is.” She slung her hand downward to get the excess water out of the sponge and he sidestepped just in time. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

She turned her back and resumed scrubbing. An eternity passed before he stepped ashore, leaving the boat rocking as he stormed away. In a fit of anger, she kicked the water bucket, which knocked it over and nearly broke her toe. Hopping around in pain, she slipped and fell, landing on her backside in the puddle of water.

Since she didn’t know whether to curse or cry, she buried her face in her hands and did both. She hated Oliver Chancellor. Hated him with every fiber of her body! Or she would as soon as she stopped praying that he’d turn around and come back. But he didn’t come back, and she knew now he never would.

“Of all the stupid, lame-brained, idiotic things to do,” Chance muttered under his breath a week later as he paced the sunroom at the back of the Baxters’ house. The room overlooked the private boat docks along the canal. Mrs. Baxter had told him that Paige had taken her friend Stacy out on their cabin cruiser, but was expected back any moment.

He prowled the room, trying not to think about Aurora. An impossible task. Mere days after they’d argued on the pier he’d learned the St. Claires had, indeed, purchased Pearl Island. And they’d paid cash! The idiots!

A few days after that, he’d learned through the grapevine that the St. Claires had secured a sizable loan from a rival bank and were going full steam ahead with the renovations. He wanted to wring all their necks. “They’re going to lose everything!”

Just then, he saw the Baxters’ cabin cruiser turn into the narrow canal that led to their house. In spite of the vessel’s size, Paige steered it effortlessly into its covered slip.

Chance waited as she and Stacy Connely gathered up towels and suntan lotion and donned cover-ups over their swimsuits. The two were laughing and flushed from a day on the water as they entered the sunroom.

“Chance!” Paige drew up short. “What are you doing here?”

Her stunned expression took him off guard. “I hadn’t seen you in a while, and thought I’d drop by. Hello, Stacy.”

“Hey, Chance.” Stacy nodded.

“I hope the two of you don’t mind,” Chance said.

“No, of course not.” Paige laughed nervously. “I just wish I’d known so I wouldn’t have kept you waiting.”

“I don’t mind waiting, although I guess I should have called.” The thought of calling hadn’t even crossed his mind. Of course, he didn’t seem to be able to think of anything lately except Aurora. The woman was driving him insane! “I could come back another time if you’re busy.”

“Don’t be silly.” Paige glanced at Stacy, and some secret message seemed to pass between them before she turned back to Chance. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

“Besides, I was just leaving,” Stacy hastened to add. “Oh, wait, Paul was just asking if you’d want to get together with some of the guys for a round of golf.”

“Tell him to give me a call,” Chance answered.

“Will do.” She hugged Paige. “Thanks again for agreeing to be my maid of honor. Paul will be so pleased.”

“How could I refuse after you agreed to serve on the Buccaneer’s Ball entertainment committee with me?” Paige said, returning the hug.

“True.” Stacy laughed. She glanced at Chance then mouthed the words “Call me later” to Paige. With eyes twinkling, she left the two of them alone.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted your time with Stacy.”

“Don’t be silly.” Paige laughed lightly as she came forward and presented her cheek for a kiss. He’d kissed her like that before, many times, but the fact that he now had to bend over so far to reach her cheek was a reminder that the innocent days of their youth were in the past. Why couldn’t she be taller? And smell like exotic flowers? And why couldn’t heat flare inside him at the mere sight of her?

“I’m glad you stopped by,” she said with a polite smile as she set her sunbathing bag on the wicker end table. The bag matched her gold one-piece swimming suit and long white cover-up. “I’ve barely seen you since moving home.”

“Yes, well, I guess we’ve both been pretty busy.”

“Would you like to sit?”

“Yes. Certainly.” He sat on a wicker love seat that was too low to the ground for his long legs.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Please.” He tried to make himself more comfortable.

“Crown Royal on the rocks, right?” She crossed to the wet bar flanked by potted palms and got down a cut-crystal tumbler.

“Yes, thank you.” While she fixed his drink his mind raced. He had to get past this business with Aurora and get on with his life. A life filled with the friends he’d grown up with, golf on the weekends, holidays with his family, and the obligatory appearance at charity fundraisers. To him, these were all routines that felt comfortable—as they would be for Paige. Even if he weren’t set on marrying Paige, he couldn’t imagine Aurora slipping seamlessly into that world. They were so different. So wrong for each other. Surely any fool could see that.

“Here you are,” Paige said, handing him his drink. Joining him on the love seat, she tucked her legs beneath her and looked perfectly at ease on the too short, too dainty furniture as she sipped a glass of ice water. “Can I get you anything else?”