One Long Embrace
Page 5
Why hadn’t she done more to win Paul’s affection? Her parents hadn’t liked her answer. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Paul, in fact he’d turned out to be a really nice guy, but first of all he was totally smitten with Holly, and secondly, Tara had no romantic feelings for him.
“But he’s the perfect man!” her mother had protested.
“I don’t care if he’s the only man! I don’t love Paul and he doesn’t love me!”
“That’s immaterial!” her mother had shouted. “You need to marry the right kind of man.”
“The right kind? Didn’t you mean to say rich?” She’d pivoted, ready to leave. But her father had snatched her elbow and jerked her back.
“You, young lady, will listen to your mother and me! You’ve annoyed us long enough with your ideas of a career and independence. No more!” He raised a finger. “If you don’t find a suitable man within the next six months, I’ll find one for you. Do we understand each other?”
Tara was still reeling from her parents’ medieval expectations. She would present them with a suitable man. One she found suitable. And right now, as she swept her gaze over the handsome waiter, she found him more than suitable. He was positively perfect: handsome, flirty, and working class. And most likely lots of fun in bed.
At that thought she shivered again, and this time not because of her soaked dress. She wasn’t exactly the most experienced young woman. Despite the fact that she was turning twenty-five soon, she’d only had three lovers in her life. Somehow she knew Jay had a lot more experience, and not only because he was a few years older than her—in his early to mid-thirties, she guessed. Maybe he could teach her a few things and help her be more exciting and experienced in bed. And even if she couldn’t learn anything from him—even if her secret fear was true and she just had no talent when it came to sex—what did it matter?
All that mattered was that by dating him, she would royally piss off her parents, and that was all she cared about right now. To stick it to them! To stand her ground and not cave into their demands like her older sister had.
No, she wouldn’t make the same mistake. If she ever got married—and that was a big if—then it would be to a man she truly loved, and not somebody her parents considered good husband material and with whom she could produce pretty babies.
Involuntarily, she ran her eyes over Jay again. Short dark hair, strong brows, and a square chin, complemented by full lips, a straight nose, and chocolate brown eyes flecked with gold. Her parents would definitely find him unsuitable as a husband—purely based on his bank account, of course—but, oh boy, would they make beautiful babies.
Tara bit her lip. Crap, she shouldn’t even be thinking something like this. All this was about was getting even with her parents.
“Having second thoughts?” Jay’s voice suddenly pierced her thoughts.
She lowered her lids by a fraction. “I’ll go upstairs and get changed into something dry. I’m a houseguest, you know. Anyway.”
She didn’t know why she even mentioned that fact. Her parents had tricked her into accepting an invitation to spend a few days here; an invitation that had presumably come from Paul. They’d hoped that it would bring her and Paul closer. She’d grudgingly accepted, because the alternative had been even worse: spending a week with the Willamotts, whose son was creepy to say the least. The thought alone made her shudder.
Taking a calming breath, she smiled at Jay. “Where do you want me to wait for you once the party is over?”
He looked away and motioned to the crowd. “It appears the party is breaking up right now.”
He was right: family members and members of the catering staff were now ushering people toward the exits. Clearly, after the embarrassing incident, the Gilberts had no intention of continuing to entertain the guests. And Tara couldn’t blame them. Whether there was any truth to what the drunk had spouted about Paul’s girlfriend didn’t even matter now. There would be vicious gossip.
Jay pointed to the pool house. “I’ll be waiting for you over there when you’re ready.”
“I’ll be quick.”
Tara rose from the lounge chair and turned toward the house. But she only got two steps before she spotted her parents standing on the terrace, searching the crowd herding up the steps and into the house. For a second she froze.
“Crap!” she cursed and swiveled.
Jay still stood where she’d left him and arched a brow. “Forgot something?”
“But he’s the perfect man!” her mother had protested.
“I don’t care if he’s the only man! I don’t love Paul and he doesn’t love me!”
“That’s immaterial!” her mother had shouted. “You need to marry the right kind of man.”
“The right kind? Didn’t you mean to say rich?” She’d pivoted, ready to leave. But her father had snatched her elbow and jerked her back.
“You, young lady, will listen to your mother and me! You’ve annoyed us long enough with your ideas of a career and independence. No more!” He raised a finger. “If you don’t find a suitable man within the next six months, I’ll find one for you. Do we understand each other?”
Tara was still reeling from her parents’ medieval expectations. She would present them with a suitable man. One she found suitable. And right now, as she swept her gaze over the handsome waiter, she found him more than suitable. He was positively perfect: handsome, flirty, and working class. And most likely lots of fun in bed.
At that thought she shivered again, and this time not because of her soaked dress. She wasn’t exactly the most experienced young woman. Despite the fact that she was turning twenty-five soon, she’d only had three lovers in her life. Somehow she knew Jay had a lot more experience, and not only because he was a few years older than her—in his early to mid-thirties, she guessed. Maybe he could teach her a few things and help her be more exciting and experienced in bed. And even if she couldn’t learn anything from him—even if her secret fear was true and she just had no talent when it came to sex—what did it matter?
All that mattered was that by dating him, she would royally piss off her parents, and that was all she cared about right now. To stick it to them! To stand her ground and not cave into their demands like her older sister had.
No, she wouldn’t make the same mistake. If she ever got married—and that was a big if—then it would be to a man she truly loved, and not somebody her parents considered good husband material and with whom she could produce pretty babies.
Involuntarily, she ran her eyes over Jay again. Short dark hair, strong brows, and a square chin, complemented by full lips, a straight nose, and chocolate brown eyes flecked with gold. Her parents would definitely find him unsuitable as a husband—purely based on his bank account, of course—but, oh boy, would they make beautiful babies.
Tara bit her lip. Crap, she shouldn’t even be thinking something like this. All this was about was getting even with her parents.
“Having second thoughts?” Jay’s voice suddenly pierced her thoughts.
She lowered her lids by a fraction. “I’ll go upstairs and get changed into something dry. I’m a houseguest, you know. Anyway.”
She didn’t know why she even mentioned that fact. Her parents had tricked her into accepting an invitation to spend a few days here; an invitation that had presumably come from Paul. They’d hoped that it would bring her and Paul closer. She’d grudgingly accepted, because the alternative had been even worse: spending a week with the Willamotts, whose son was creepy to say the least. The thought alone made her shudder.
Taking a calming breath, she smiled at Jay. “Where do you want me to wait for you once the party is over?”
He looked away and motioned to the crowd. “It appears the party is breaking up right now.”
He was right: family members and members of the catering staff were now ushering people toward the exits. Clearly, after the embarrassing incident, the Gilberts had no intention of continuing to entertain the guests. And Tara couldn’t blame them. Whether there was any truth to what the drunk had spouted about Paul’s girlfriend didn’t even matter now. There would be vicious gossip.
Jay pointed to the pool house. “I’ll be waiting for you over there when you’re ready.”
“I’ll be quick.”
Tara rose from the lounge chair and turned toward the house. But she only got two steps before she spotted her parents standing on the terrace, searching the crowd herding up the steps and into the house. For a second she froze.
“Crap!” she cursed and swiveled.
Jay still stood where she’d left him and arched a brow. “Forgot something?”
