Secrets on Cedar Key (21 page)

I
opened my eyes Saturday morning and felt Worth curled up beside me. Since making love for the first time, he had shared my bed the past two nights. Not only did I like him next to me; I liked how spontaneous he was as a lover. I had been surprised that first night to be awakened at about three in the morning to feel his hands once again stirring my desire. I had also been surprised to discover how much pleasuring me meant to him. Although the first time had been frenetic and even a bit wild with the wanting of each other, the next time had been slow, seductive, each of us enjoying the feelings that we created in each other and captivated with the intimacy of our lovemaking.

I moved slightly to better see Worth's face as he slept, and my heart turned over. I deeply loved this man. Yes, I had probably been attracted to him the first time he walked into the yarn shop, and yes, I had thought him quite handsome, but that chemistry that so many couples might initially experience doesn't always go on to become something more meaningful and solid. Sometimes it's simply lust and a physical attraction, but with Worth it was so much more than that. As I came to know him better, I came to love him for the man he was, and I was very grateful that he had come into my life. I reached up a finger to trace his jawline and saw his eyelids flutter, then open, a smile covering his face.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, placing an arm over me to pull me close.

I snuggled into him and smiled. Was there a better way to start a day? “Good morning to you,” I said. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” I heard him say before his hands once again caused my body to respond so easily to his touch.

 

“Are you sure?” I asked for the second time as I glanced in the mirror. I had decided to wear my ankle-length black skirt, gray cashmere sweater, and black fashion boots to meet Worth's family.

He laughed and came up behind me, nuzzling his face in the back of my neck. “You look gorgeous. Perfect. Don't be so nervous. We're only going for coffee.”

“Right,” I said.
And your daughter will be scrutinizing me,
is what I thought but didn't say. “Oh! Shouldn't we bring something? Like flowers or . . .”

Worth laughed again. “Not to worry. I picked up a box of chocolates that Caroline loves when you were at the yarn shop yesterday.”

I nodded. “Right. Okay. I'm all set,” I said, reaching for my coat and handbag.

Caroline and Roland's apartment was located in the eighth arrondissement, not far from boulevard Haussmann and near Parc Monceau, a very upscale and pricey area. A very Caroline area.

We were buzzed in via the intercom and took the elevator to the seventh floor. As soon as the doors opened, Worth was enveloped in hugs by a boy and girl I knew must be Yvette and Christophe.

“Grandpère, we're so happy to see you,” the boy said as the girl hung on to Worth's arm. “And this is your friend?”

“Yes, I'd like you to meet Marin, and this is Christophe and his sister, Yvette.”

“It's so nice to meet you,” I said.

Christophe threw me a huge smile, which I found resembled Worth's. “We're happy to meet you too,” he said.

“I couldn't wait to meet Grandpère's girlfriend. You are his girlfriend, aren't you?” Yvette inquired as we followed her brother down the hall.

Worth and I both laughed as he said, “Indeed she is.”

I saw a tall, slim blonde waiting outside a door farther down the hall. When we got to where she was standing, she leaned toward Worth, kissed both his cheeks, and said, “It's good to see you again, Papa.”

Stepping into the apartment, he said, “Caroline, I'd like you to meet my friend Marin Kane, and Marin, this is my daughter.”

“It's nice to meet you,” I said, noticing that not a trace of a smile had crossed her lips.

“Yes, likewise. Come on in. Michelle,” she called.

A woman who was probably in her early fifties appeared in the large foyer, wearing a black dress, stockings, and shoes. A maid? Caroline had a maid?

“Take their coats, please,” Caroline instructed.

I looked up to see a man of medium height come toward us. Hugging Worth, he then placed a kiss on each of my cheeks.

“I am Roland, Caroline's husband. Welcome to our home,” he said with sincerity, which was certainly more than I could say for his wife.

“Come, come sit down,” he said, and we followed him into a huge living room with floor-to-ceiling windows that even on a dreary day brought brightness.

I sat beside Worth on one of the three sofas, and in one glance I could see the furniture, window treatments, and decorating were all top quality. I felt like I was sitting in a French salon of the 1930s filled with antiques and beauty.

The children curled up at Worth's feet and were clearly enthralled with their grandfather.

Caroline perched on the end of a wingback chair and began pouring coffee from a silver pot into china cups.

“So you are enjoying your stay in Paris?” Roland inquired of me.

“Yes, very much so. I hadn't been here since the year after I graduated college, so it's been wonderful to return.”

“Yvette,” Caroline demanded, and the child jumped up to retrieve the coffee cup and saucer extended in her mother's hand. “For Marin.”

“Thank you,” I said and smiled at Yvette as I accepted the coffee.

Roland began discussing some French sports teams with Worth as Caroline continued pouring coffee and Michelle entered the room with a large platter of pastries. I accepted the small dish she gave me before she dipped the platter, allowing me to choose a square of apple tart.

I looked up and smiled.
“Merci,”
I told her, and her smile to me was warm and friendly.

The only coolness in the room was emanating from Caroline. I was finding it difficult to believe that this ice princess was actually Worth's daughter.

“Do you have children?” Yvette asked, kneeling in front of me as she bit into a cookie.

“I do. I have two sons, but they're all grown now. One lives in Atlanta and one in Boston.”

“Oh, that's too bad,” she said, a serious frown covering her face. “I bet you must miss them.”

“I do, but they're coming home for Christmas, so we'll spend some time together.”

“We're going skiing for Christmas,” Christophe informed me.

I nodded. “Yes, Wor . . . your grandfather told me. I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time.”

“I guess,” was all the boy said.

Caroline cleared her throat and Roland ceased talking to Worth, to look over at his wife.

She pushed farther back in the chair, daintily took a sip of her coffee, and then said, “So
how
did the two of you meet?”

I swore I felt Worth stiffen beside me and heard him say, “I've already told you, Caroline. I'm doing a favor for a friend and remodeling Marin's mother's yarn shop. We met there the first day I arrived to work.”

She waved a manicured hand in the air and nodded. “Oh, that's right. I must have forgotten.”

Hmm, I just bet,
I thought. I had no doubt that if my female friends from Cedar Key were here with me, they'd have one word to describe this woman, and it began with a
b
.

“So,” she said, placing a strong emphasis on the word. “You're a salesclerk at your mother's yarn shop?”

The question made me feel like a teenager, and although I wanted to like Worth's daughter, she was making it difficult.

I shook my head and grinned. “Ah, no. Not a salesclerk. My mother is opening a needlepoint shop on the other side of the yarn shop and I'll be running that portion of the business.”

“I see,” was all she said.

“I know how to knit,” Yvette said, jumping up. “I'll show you the scarf I made.”

She ran from the room, causing her father to smile. “Yes, Yvette has taken lessons at a yarn shop and she seems to enjoy it. I am quite proud of her.”

I noticed that her mother said nothing, and a moment later Yvette returned with a beautiful scarf done in what I knew was the rosette stitch.

“See,” she said, holding it out to me.

I looked at the beautiful lavender scarf and was surprised with the level of her expertise. “This is gorgeous,” I said and saw that Yvette was beaming. “My goodness, that's a bit of a tricky stitch, purling two together and then knitting in the same stitch. You've done a beautiful job. How long have you been knitting?”

She glanced toward her mother and then said, “About a year, I think.”

“Well, you're certainly on your way to becoming an expert knitter.”

“Thank you,” she said, and I was rewarded with another huge smile.

“Have you seen Amalie since you arrived?” Caroline asked her father.

Amalie? Worth had never mentioned this name to me. She sounded like a character out of a French movie.

I heard him clear his throat and looked over to see an uncomfortable expression on his face. “No. No, I haven't seen her,” was all he said.

I looked back over to Caroline, and I could have been wrong, but that sure looked like a smirk on her face to me.

She let out a sigh. “Oh, that's too bad. I saw her a couple of weeks ago and she asked about you and when you'd be back in Paris. She said to be sure to give you her best . . . if she didn't see you herself.”

The room suddenly became uncomfortably silent until a moment later when I heard Worth say, “What, exactly, are you trying to do here, Caroline?”

I saw a crimson blush creep up her neck to her cheeks as she coughed and looked down, avoiding eye contact with her father. “Nothing. What do you mean?”

That prissy tone of voice that she'd had since I arrived now changed, sounding more like that of a recalcitrant teenager.

“You know exactly what I mean.” He reached for my hand, giving it a squeeze but not letting go, and looked directly at me. “Amalie used to manage my rental properties. She's a friend of Caroline's. A few years ago my daughter made a terrible attempt at playing matchmaker for me with Amalie. I wasn't the least bit attracted to her, but somehow Caroline managed to let her think that I'd extended a dinner invitation. Not wanting to embarrass my daughter, I did take Amalie to one dinner and explained to her that I was doing so as her employer . . . and not for any other reason. She quit a couple of weeks later, which was probably the best thing for both of us. I had been close to letting her go, due to her incompetence. And just so you know, Caroline, I want to be crystal clear with you, as I have always tried to be. I've fallen in love with Marin, and to my utmost joy, she loves me in return.” He stood up and took my hand. “And now, I think we have to leave.”

T
he following morning I was sitting on the sofa, enjoying my coffee and replaying the events of the day before in my head, while Worth was in the shower.

Following Worth's announcement, we'd both gotten hugs, kisses, and congratulations from Roland, Yvette, and Christophe, while Caroline had stood by mutely watching. Fond good-byes had been exchanged with Worth's son-in-law and grandchildren, but Caroline had neglected to say a word, allowing us to leave without her speaking to her father.

Worth had been quiet until we reached Le Refuge du Passé for our dinner reservation. After wine had been ordered, he'd reached for my hand, brought it to his lips, and placed a kiss on top.

“I'm sorry about that. Very sorry.”

I'd shaken my head. “No. There's nothing to be sorry about. It wasn't your fault.”

“Sometimes Caroline can be like an obstinate teenager, but it served no purpose whatsoever to bring up Amalie's name in front of you, except to provoke some jealousy or mistrust on your part, and I resent my daughter for doing that.”

I had given his hand a squeeze and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “You are such an honest person, and I hope you know how much I value that. So there could never be any mistrust on my part. I just feel bad that we left without her saying anything to you.”

Caroline's silence hadn't seemed to concern Worth, but I hated that we were leaving Paris the next day without their disagreement being resolved.

I looked up as he entered the living room, bent down, and placed a kiss on my lips.

“Hmm, you smell nice,” I said, inhaling a woodsy cologne scent from his cheeks. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

Worth threw his head back and laughed. “After last night, I'd say you're the seductress.”

Yeah, he could be right. After three glasses of wine, I
had
been a bit frisky.

I took the last sip of my coffee and stood up. “Okay, I'm heading to the shower. We'll do lunch around two and then go get Toulouse?”

“Sounds great,” he said, pulling me into his arms for a hug.

When I emerged from the shower, I had a brief thought about surprising Worth by walking into the living room au naturel, but decided instead to get dressed. When I entered, I'm sure a flush was creeping up my face as I saw Caroline sitting in one of the chairs talking to Worth, and I was glad that I hadn't taken that particular time to be playful.

“Hi,” I said, looking first at Caroline and then at Worth, not sure what her unexpected visit was about.

Worth patted the sofa next to him. “Come sit down,” he said. “Caroline has come over to tell you something.”

I sat beside him, felt his hand on my knee, looked at Caroline, and waited.

Gone was the woman with an attitude of the day before. In her place was somebody who looked distinctly uneasy as she shifted in the chair, cleared her throat, and said, “Yes. Right. I wanted to say that I'm sorry, Marin. I wasn't very nice to you yesterday, and that was . . . unkind of me and uncalled for. I'm not sure what got into me, being so unfriendly, and I apologize for that.”

I nodded. “Thank you. Apology accepted.”

I saw her eyes dart to her father, and I think that was a look of relief I saw cross her face. “And I also wanted to say . . . I have no idea why I mentioned Amalie. I knew my father wasn't interested in her, so I'm sorry for that as well.” She paused for a second and then went on to say, “And I think it's quite obvious that my father cares a lot for you. Even Roland and the children saw that. So I want you to know that I'm happy. I'm happy for the both of you, but most of all that my father won't be alone anymore and will have somebody special to spend his time with.”

Well, that was quite a mouthful and quite an admission on her part. Did this mean she was giving her blessing as his daughter for us to pursue our relationship?

“Thank you again,” I said and shot her a smile. To my surprise, she sent a genuine smile back to me, which softened her attractive features.

She jumped up and pointed to the kitchen table, “Oh, and I brought you both a little peace offering. Some nice wine and cheese to enjoy on your last night in Paris.”

“Why don't we have some now?” I found myself saying. “Then you could enjoy it with us.”

“No, no. That's for the two of you. Besides, I have to get back home. More packing to finish up before we leave on the ski trip this week.”

Worth and I both stood up, and he pulled his daughter into his arms. “Thank you,” I heard him whisper in her ear. “Thank you for coming over. I love you, Caroline.”

“I love you too, Dad,” she said, and when she broke the embrace with her father, I saw moisture in her eyes as she surprised me by pulling me into a hug, kissing both of my cheeks, and saying, “It was very nice to meet you, Marin. Please let me know when you're coming to Paris again. We can go for lunch and shopping.”

“That would be great. I'd like that a lot,” I said as I gave her an extra squeeze.

She gave her father one more hug, said good-bye to both of us, and was gone.

I stood there looking at Worth and smiled. “I think you were wrong. I think your daughter got a lot more of you than you realize.”

 

Later that afternoon, I sat curled on the sofa next to Worth as we both watched Toulouse scamper around the living room. His playful antics made both of us laugh.

“Isn't he just adorable?” I said.

“He certainly is. I'm very glad you got him.”

As if Toulouse knew we were talking about him, he jumped up into my lap and made that wonderful trilling sound.

“And I think he's already getting attached to you,” Worth said.

I stroked the top of the kitten's head and let out a deep sigh.

I felt Worth look at me. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. It's hard to believe that I'm leaving Paris tomorrow. What an incredible two weeks it's been. So much has happened. I almost feel like a different person.”

“In many ways, you are. Do you regret leaving Paris?”

“Yes and no. I love it here. I really do. These days here with you have been so special. Something that I've never experienced before. But I'm also looking forward to going back to Cedar Key. I have some work ahead of me—telling the boys about Fiona, getting ready for Christmas, moving into my new home, and then opening the needlepoint shop. So much going on.”

“And all of it good things. Well, anytime you feel the need to return to Paris, just let me know. I'd be more than happy to accompany you here. This apartment will always be ready for us.”

I smiled. “I like the sound of those words, ready for
us
.”

He was silent for a few moments and then said, “I've been giving some thought to a few things. Like what we plan to do about
us
when we return to Cedar Key.”

I turned to face him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we've had the luxury of spending six wonderful nights together. I won't lie; I don't like the idea of being separated once we get home.”

I knew what he meant. I had also been thinking about that but had no idea how we might resolve it.

“Any suggestions?” I asked.

“I think we need to discuss our options and then come up with an agreeable solution. You're at your mother's until the week after Christmas when you'll move into your new place, but you'll have Fiona as a houseguest.”

“Right. I'd love for you to stay there with me, but that certainly won't allow us much privacy. And as of right now, I don't even know how long she's planning to stay.”

“Exactly, and that's fine. You need to take all of that with Fiona one step at a time. However, one thing that I do wish you'd consider is spending the weekends at my house in Ocala.”

I laughed, pursed my lips, and gave him what I hoped was a coquettish expression. “Why, Mr. Slater, are you asking me to live in sin with you on a weekend basis?”

His laughter joined mine as he pulled me into his arms. “Yes, Ms. Kane, that's precisely what I'm asking you to do.”

I lifted my lips to meet his before saying, “Then I accept.”

 

After I got Toulouse settled down for the night in his crate in the living room, I joined Worth in the bedroom. Climbing into bed beside him, I let out a sigh.

“This has truly been the most glorious two weeks of my life, and it's all because of you.”

“I'm flattered,” he said. “But that's not entirely true. It was you who took the risk to come to Paris and make it happen.”

“Yeah,” I said, sitting up straighter and looking at him. “What would have happened had I not done that? Then you wouldn't have been able to let me stay here and join me. Where would we be then? Still just friends?”

“Oh, I seriously doubt that. We had moved up from friends before you even left for Paris. Some things are just meant to be . . . and I think
we
are meant to be.”

I liked the sound of that. “Good, because you're so very special to me—both as a friend and as a lover.”

Worth reached over to the bedside table, picked up two champagne flutes, and passed one to me. Touching the rim of mine, he said, “I love you, Marin. I love you so very much.” Clinking my glass again, he smiled. “And here's lookin' at you, kid.”

My smile matched his, as I knew without a doubt that Paris truly
was
the most romantic city in the world.