Seducing His Heart Page 15

  “Happy?” he asked.

  “Delirious.”

  He stroked her hair. Her heartbeat slowed and peace flowed in her veins while a gentle smile settled on her face. She felt Whit relax against her. When she closed her eyes, sleep overtook her.

  * * * *

  Bess awoke two hours later. She saw Whit’s arm slung over her waist when she opened her eyes. He shifted, pulling her closer. The heat from his body kept the bed a perfect temperature. Comfort enveloped her. She had no desire to get up. Whit opened his eyes.

  “What time is it?” He rolled over to face the clock. “Shit. It’s eleven.” He threw down the covers and swung his legs over the side. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get to work.”

  “I understand. Better check on the police in my apartment.” Bess pushed to her feet. Whit handed her the robe and padded into the bathroom. She heard the shower running. Wish I could get in there with him. No time.

  When they were both dressed, they left the pugs at Whit’s, stopped at her apartment door, and knocked. Officer Joe answered.

  “Hey, Ms. Cooper. We’ll be done in here sooner than I thought. Come on in. Don’t touch anything. You, too, Mr. Bass.”

  The place was still a God-awful mess. Bess glanced around. “What a disaster,” she said, shaking her head. Her eye picked up a new detail. “Will you look at that?”

  Both men looked at her. “What?” Whit asked.

  “The guy didn’t bother with Dumpling’s bed. It’s untouched.”

  “Guess he figured whatever he was looking for wouldn’t be there. Besides, can’t hide anything in it.”

  “Can I pick up a toothbrush and some clothes?”

  “I think the team is finished with the bedroom. I’ll check.”

  “What a mess! It’ll take you days to get this straightened out.”

  “I’m going to throw it together and leave. The whole thing creeps me out.”

  Whit put his arm around her shoulders. “You stay with me until you’re comfortable.”

  “Thanks.” She beamed a smile up at him, and he kissed her.

  “Hey, hey, no PDA,” Officer Joe joked. “Okay, Ms. Cooper. You can have the bedroom and bathroom back.”

  “Is it safe for her to clean up in here?” Whit asked the policeman.

  “She shouldn’t be in here alone. Even with the doggie, it’s not safe. Maybe in two weeks. Give us a chance to figure out what happened.”

  When Bess’s suitcase was packed, a couple of reporters stopped them at the door. They fired questions at Bess. Whit’s station had interviewed her right after the police had arrived last night. By this time, she figured publicity couldn’t hurt. Maybe it will keep the robber away.

  Bess unpacked at Whit’s, and he went off to work. Then, she did the only thing that gave her peace—she thumbed through cookbooks for ideas for new recipes.

  Her cell buzzed. It was Ned.

  “Are you okay?”

  Bess explained everything to him.

  “I’m glad you weren’t there.”

  “So, are they missing me terribly and ready to put me back on?” She was only half kidding.

  The silence was uncomfortable.

  “Ned?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Oh? What does that mean?”

  “They work fast. They’ve hired some chick named Jenny. They’re giving her your show.”

  “Baking with Jenny?”

  “No, In the Kitchen with Jenny.”

  Her chest tightened. She could hardly breathe.

  “Bess?”

  “I’m here,” she coughed out.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s what you called to tell me?”

  “I didn’t think it’d be fair to have you hanging on, hoping, ya know?”

  “Did they tell you to do that?”

  “Of course not. If they found out, I’d get my head handed to me. Didn’t want you waiting...hoping.”

  “Thanks, Ned.”

  “Maybe you can find something else?”

  “Yeah, maybe. If I don’t get murdered by a robber first.” She snorted.

  “Don’t say that. Hey, if you do, by some miracle, get something, will you call me?”

  “Still want to work with Scandal Woman?”

  “Hell, yeah. You’re the best.”

  “So are you.”

  Despair descended on her like a thick fog. She wouldn’t have admitted, even if Ned, or anyone else, had asked her directly, but she had been hoping this would blow over. She’d been praying the station would forgive and forget and put her back on the air. But Ned had squashed that hope with the truth.

  Bess became restless. She pushed up from the sofa and began to pace. Time to walk the dogs. She leashed them, donned a jacket, and headed for Central Park.

  She did her best thinking while walking in the park, usually with Dumpling. The dogs trotted along, stopping to sniff lampposts from time to time, allowing her to get lost in thought.

  What am I doing with Whit? He said he’s never getting married, and I’m falling for him. Stupid, stupid girl. Don’t do it. He’s nice, he’s kind, he’s handsome, he’s a great lover, best ever, but is that a good reason to get my heart broken. Do I think I can change him? Can I make an elephant fly? Why should I try? Listen. Listen to what he’s saying. He doesn’t want to get married. He doesn’t want children. Believe him and move on. Find someone else. Or cry your eyes out for months.

  Back at Whit’s place, Bess consoled herself the way she always did, by preparing a fabulous meal. She swiped a few cooking tools from her kitchen and played country music. She chopped, sautéed, sliced, and browned all afternoon. When Whit returned to the apartment, the enticing aromas in the hall would come from his place, not hers.

  She looked up, noticing he’d arrived by the rush of cool air from the open door.

  “What is that delicious smell?” He poked his head into the kitchen.

  “Something new. My own pasta concoction. Lots of fresh veggies, some sausage, over penne. You like?” She offered him a sample.

  “Wow, almost as delicious as you,” he said, after swallowing. Bess put the wooden spoon down, allowing him to pull her close for a hug and a kiss.

  “How was your day?” she asked, leaving his embrace to retrieve some dishes from the cabinet.

  “Full of murder, robbery, assault, and theft. The usual. Except for coming home to you.”

  * * * *

  Whit eased his Bentley off the Thruway and turned left on Midland Avenue, heading for Rye’s beach area. “Remember, there’s no furniture.”

  “None?”

  “Well…hmm. A bed, and a sofa.”

  “A bed? I should have known.” She snickered.

  Whit pulled off the road into the Midland School parking lot and put the car in park. “Okay. You wanted to return the favor?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Here’s the deal. The house needs furniture. You can stay as long as you like if you furnish it for me.”

  “Furnish it?”

  “I’ll give you the money. You buy whatever you want.”

  “I thought you wanted to sell the house?”

  “I’m not sure what I’m going to do. No one can live there unless it has furniture.”

  “Deal. Let’s drop off the bags, check out the house, and go to a local furniture store.”

  Whit eased back onto the road and stepped on the gas. “Sounds like a plan.”

  They were silent in the car the rest of the drive. Whit steered into a short driveway and put the car in park. Bess was out in a flash. A deep breath of fresh, salty air revived her. She stood on the flagstone walk that split the shallow front yard in two and stared at the building. It was two stories of mixed stone, with several windows, sporting small panes of glass cut into the front. Two were almost hidden by the small front porch. Big enough for a couple of rockers.

  The front door was a worn, weathered wood, with wrought iron hinges, its white paint flaking off. Th
e brass handle needed polishing. Small hedges fenced in the property while a bit of ivy attempted to climb one wall.

  Whit joined her. There was sweat on his upper lip. “The house needs work. In the back are sliding glass—” The words rushed out of his mouth. Bess put her finger on his lips.

  “It’s charming. One-of-a-kind. Wow, it’s great. Let’s go in.” Unique. So like him.

  He smiled, fished in his pocket for keys, and unlocked the front door. Bess passed through first into a small entryway. Through an arch was the living room with a vaulted ceiling. Bedrooms on the second floor opened onto a gangway that ran the length of the house, ending at a wooden staircase. A large, stone fireplace looked especially grand in the near-empty room. The walls were dirty beige. A door to the right was closed. Bess’s gaze went to a beige, suede sofa, sitting at an awkward angle in front of the hearth.

  Gotta check out the kitchen. She ignored the room on the right and turned left. Perfect place for a big table. French doors opened onto a flagstone patio. She moved through another archway into the kitchen. It had been modernized about twenty years ago and needed updating. Her mind was working. When Whit spoke to her, she didn’t hear him.

  “I said—what do you think?” He hiked his jeans up and shifted his weight.

  “What? Oh. Sorry. Thinking. What do I think? I think it’s grand.”

  “Grand? It’s too small to be grand.” His brow furrowed.

  “It’s great, beautiful. Has a lot of potential. All the right details. I love the French doors.”

  “The kitchen is tiny, compared to yours.”

  “Every kitchen is tiny compared to mine. It can be opened up. It’ll be great, once you renovate it.”

  “Ouch. How much is that gonna cost?”

  “Depends on what you want to spend. Since you’re going to dump the place, you probably don’t want to renovate the kitchen.”

  “Dump the place. Pretty harsh.”

  “That’s what you’re doing.”

  “I’m not sure. I might keep it.”

  “I’d never sell a place like this unless I had no money.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you can never replace this. There’s no other house like it on Earth.”

  “I suppose.”

  “You’re not very sentimental, are you?”

  He simply looked at her.

  “Figures.” She walked back into the living room and headed for the room behind the closed door.

  He followed. “Why do you say that?”

  “Don’t want to get married. No kids. No attachments. Dump the house. Keep it lean. No sentiment. Come and go as you please… Isn’t this a charming room?” The space wasn’t large, but it had a bay window with a window seat, plus another large window with lots of glass panes.

  “Let’s go upstairs.”

  They climbed to the second floor. There were two good-sized bedrooms and one smaller one, like a maid’s room. In the master bedroom, she gasped when she saw the old fireplace.

  “A fireplace in the bedroom?” She glanced his way. “Perfect for seduction.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “It looks like it hasn’t been used in fifty years.”

  “That can be fixed.”

  “And you’re going to seduce me in this room?” he asked, grinning.

  “I think the fireplace is going to seduce us both.” She chuckled.

  “Also a practical way to cut down on the expense of heating this place,” he said.

  “Mood killer.” She laughed.

  She went to the window, her eyes drawn to the view of the Long Island Sound lapping at the beach a few hundred yards away.

  “A view of the water.” She drew in a breath. “It’s fabulous. This place has such potential… The backyard!” She bounded down the stairs.

  “The gardener hasn’t done much. I’ve only got a basic plan with him.”

  She stopped short and turned to face him. “Stop explaining. It’s fine. I love the house. You’re lucky to have found such a special place. No more excuses.”

  The backdoor was between the dining area and the kitchen. Whit unlocked the bolt, and they went outside. The small yard was neatly trimmed. About three times the size of the front lawn, it had dirt beds for flowers and almost no landscaping.

  “It needs planting,” he said.

  “Part of the fix-up plan…if you intend to keep it.”

  They returned inside. Bess guesstimated the length of the table she’d need and a few other items. “Let’s go shopping.”

  “Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

  They drove into town. A hamburger joint on Purchase Street was open, so they slid into a booth and ordered.

  “You have your stuff with you, don’t you?” he asked, taking a bite of his cheeseburger.

  “Yep.”

  “Good. I’ll give you the keys to the car and the credit card. I’ll take the train back.”

  “Leave me here?”

  “That’s the idea. You need to be safe. You will be, here. No one’ll find you.”

  She sighed. “True. I’ll have to cancel the Dinner Club.”

  “For a little while.” He took her hand. “Please? Don’t take any chances.”

  She stared at him for a moment before plucking a pickle off the plate and popping it in her mouth. He looks worried. Maybe I should be more worried. “As we agreed. I thought you’d be staying here, too.”

  “I can’t. I have to work. Besides, if you’re decorating, I’ll be in the way.”

  She nodded. “Okay. A couple of days.”

  They finished eating, Whit paid the bill, and they strolled to the train station. After a passionate goodbye, she drove back to the house. Without Whit, the place looked sadder and more dilapidated. I love this house. But it’s his. Will I ever have one of my own? Maybe. Not as long as I’m unemployed. She sighed and pulled out paper and pen to make a list.

  Chapter Twelve

  Whit showed up early for his appointment with Dr. Sumner. He paced until the doctor opened the door. Then, he strode in and sat down.

  Dr. Sumner took his time sitting in the chair opposite Whit and smiled. “You seem anxious to see me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have an answer to the question about the house?”

  “No. But I think I was meant to keep it, at least until now, to keep Bess safe.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  Whit went on to explain about Bess and the break-in. “Then, she said, ‘you’re going to dump the house,’ and I cringed.”

  “Why? You do plan to sell it, don’t you?”

  “But she said dump. Like I was dumping a girlfriend. And it hurt. I don’t want to dump the house. It needs work…is such a mess. I was embarrassed to bring her there.”

  “Did she mind?”

  “Not at all. But suddenly, my dream house, my beautiful house, looked like a piece of old junk. The door is worn, paint is chipping off. The windows are so dirty you almost can’t see out. And the worst!” Whit put his head in his hands.

  “The worst?”

  “The kitchen looked like it hadn’t been updated since the Civil War. 1950’s style. Ugly. Old-fashioned. And I wondered what she thought.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That it could be fixed.”

  “And you said…”

  “I didn’t say anything. Something else in my life to be fixed. I wanted to take a match to the whole place.”

  “Did she hate it?”

  “That’s what’s so strange.” He looked up and made eye contact with the doctor. “She loved it. Said it had potential, could be nice.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “To renovate the kitchen’ll cost a fortune.”

  “But if you intend to keep the house, it’ll last for years.”

  “If. That’s the question. If.”

  “You still don’t know why you haven’t sold the house?”

  He shook his head. “The question echoed in my
head a hundred times on the train ride back. It’s a dump, and yet, I still own it…and even spend money on a gardener. What an idiot.”

  “An idiot? Maybe you love the house, too. Maybe is represents something to you.”

  “You mean the family I never had?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “I suppose it does. I mean, in case I find someone. If I change my mind about my whole life.” He chuckled.

  “You’d have a place to put a family.”

  “Yeah. Don’t you have to have the family first, doc?”

  “Different people do things in different ways. Whatever works for you, Whit.”

  “Double talk.” He scowled.

  “You want me to give you the answer.”

  “Seems the fastest way.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why? Because we’ll be done then?”

  “Hey, that’s insulting. No, because the one with the answer is you, not me.”

  “I knew you were going to say that.”

  “So, give yourself the answer. Give yourself permission to see inside.”

  “Maybe if I go away for a few months, I’ll find it then.”

  “I hope so. Time’s up for today.”

  “What happens here when I go to Asia?”

  “We go on hiatus until you return.”

  “I’ll miss it.”

  “You can always come back.”

  “Do you think I’m ready to go out on my own?”

  “Do you?”

  “Guess so. I’ve been on my own forever, anyway.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem.”

  “Maybe it is.”

  Whit followed the doctor to the door. They shook hands, and he left the building. He walked the thirty blocks back to the studio instead of taking a cab or subway. He wanted time to think. Seeing the house through Bess’s eyes changed everything. His palace had morphed into a dump. The creepy unease of embarrassment slid up his back. She knew it wasn’t a palace. She was being polite. How could I fall in love with it? What a hellhole. I’ll never be able to sell it.