BEVERLY BARTON – Whitelaw's Wedding (страница 8)

“Are you inquiring for a personal reason?” Hunter nuzzled her neck.

Manda gasped as pure sensation shot through her. “What…what—”

“If you’re wondering if after we get married, I’d be willing to screw you even though we won’t be emotionally involved, then the answer is yes.”

She tensed in his arms, then stopped dead-still. “Grams is right—you can be very vulgar.”

When she tried to pull away from him, he refused to release her. “If you don’t want to dance any longer, then why don’t we go through the buffet line and get some cake? After all, we don’t want anyone thinking that we’re having an argument. Not when we’re supposed to be falling in love.”

Manda resigned herself to accept his smothering attention. Every glance, every hug, every kiss as phony as a three-dollar bill. But necessary, she reminded herself. If they were going to pull off this dangerous charade, she couldn’t allow herself to be affected by anything Hunter said or did. Or by her own unwanted feelings for him. Crazy as it might seem, she found herself as strongly attracted to him now as she’d been at sixteen.

Don’t you dare fall for this guy, she cautioned herself. Caring about Hunter would be dangerous—for him and for you. Even if there was no external danger, no lunatic watching and waiting for her to choose a new mate, she didn’t dare risk losing her heart to Hunter Whitelaw, a man who still saw her as spoiled and selfish, the way his ex-wife had been.

As they made their way to the buffet table, Manda noticed Gwen heading in their direction. The birthday girl herself, all smiles, but with unmistakable curiosity in her eyes. She and Gwen had known each other most of their lives and had at one time been friends. But that was before they’d both fallen in love with Rodney Austin. Manda didn’t think her sister-in-law had ever quite forgiven her for being the one Rodney had loved and wanted. Even though Gwen had married Perry only a year after Rodney’s death, Manda wondered if her sister-in-law had ever truly loved Perry. They seemed to have a stable marriage. Gwen was the ideal wife for an up-and-coming lawyer with political aspirations. And she thought Perry was content, if not genuinely happy. He doted on Gwen, gave her anything her heart desired and had even accepted her decision for them to not adopt a child after she had found out that she couldn’t have a baby of her own.

Before Gwen reached them, Claire Austin stopped Gwen to give her a hug. Hunter urged Manda into the line at the buffet table and as they waited their turn, he kept his arm around her shoulders and occasionally rubbed his hand up and down her arm in a gesture of affection. As Manda picked up a plate holding a piece of birthday cake, prepared by Atlanta’s renowned Chef Maurice Claude, she cast a quick glimpse over her shoulder and saw that Gwen and Claire, talking happily to each other, were heading their way.

Manda tried to hurry Hunter along, but he insisted on acquiring flutes of champagne for them. By the time they had cake and champagne in hand, Gwen closed in on them.

“Manda,” she called, and waved. “There you are. I haven’t had a chance to even say hello.” Moving nearer with each step, Gwen brought Claire with her. “I just had to postpone opening the rest of my gifts so that I could mix and mingle more with my guests.”

Gwen sized up Hunter, her gaze traveling from the top of his head to the tips of his shoes. “Hunter Whitelaw, we haven’t seen you in ages. I’m simply delighted that you’d drive down from Atlanta just for my birthday party.”

“Happy birthday, Gwen,” Hunter said. “You don’t know how glad I am that I accepted Perry’s invitation. Manda and I are getting to know each other all over again, and I must say that I’m finding myself intrigued by your beautiful sister-in-law. So much so that I’m staying over a few days, since I’ve persuaded Manda to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

“How wonderful,” Claire said, a warm smile on her face. She reached out to clasp Manda’s hand. “Sweet girl, I’m so glad to see that you didn’t let that silly incident with Boyd Gipson keep you from accepting this young man’s invitation.”

“Claire, I’d like for you to meet Hunter Whitelaw,” Manda said. “Hunter is an old and dear friend of Perry’s. Hunter, this is Claire Austin. Rodney’s mother.”

“Ma’am.” Hunter nodded

“Hunter was Perry’s best man at our wedding.” Gwen laughed, the sound hollow and brittle. “And he was Manda’s first love, wasn’t he, Manda?” Gwen skewered Manda with her cold black eyes.

“Is that right?” Claire asked, her gaze resting on Hunter.

“She had a teenage crush on me, ma’am,” Hunter explained. “At the time she was a bit too young for me, but now six years difference in our ages doesn’t matter.”

“Of course, it doesn’t.” Claire patted Manda’s arm, then leaned over and whispered to her, “I do so want you to be happy.”

“Thank you.” Manda kissed Claire’s cheek.

“Manda and I were headed out to the patio to find a table. Would you ladies care to join us?” Hunter asked.

Gwen opened her mouth to reply, but Claire spoke first. “Nonsense. You two want to be alone…to talk. Besides, Gwen must spend more time with her guests, mustn’t you, dear.”

Manda took the opportunity Claire had given her to head toward the French doors. Hunter followed her along the escape route, through the open doors and onto the patio. The only empty table was in the garden, on the far side of the swimming pool. She halted immediately.

“Keep going,” Hunter said. “We’ll be out of earshot over there, but we can still put on quite a show for anyone watching us.”

“Do we have something more we need to discuss in private?”

“We have a great deal more to discuss,” he told her. “If we’re going to walk down the aisle in a couple of weeks, we need to plan a whirlwind courtship and get started on it right away.”

“A couple of weeks? You’re kidding. You expect us to get married in two weeks?”

“Keep walking.” He nudged her in the back with his plate. “And two weeks is my limit at playing adoring suitor. If our engagement doesn’t bring out Mr. Lunatic, then we’ll follow through with the wedding. That’s sure to bring him out. He’s not going to allow you to be happily married to another man.”

Manda set her plate and crystal flute on the wrought-iron table, then Hunter did the same. He pulled out a chair and with gentlemanly good manners assisted her. Once seated, she lifted the glass to her lips and sipped the champagne.

Hunter pulled a chair up beside her, so that when he sat, their arms brushed against each other. Quivers fluttered through her body. She hadn’t been this aware of a man in years. This won’t do, she told herself. She couldn’t let her emotions come into play during their game of pretense.

“So, the way I see it, we need to become a constant twosome,” he said. “Dinner tomorrow night. And afterward, you’ll invite me in and I’ll stay for at least an hour.”

“An hour?”

“Just in case Mr. Lunatic is watching your house.”

“Oh.”

“Then day after tomorrow, we’ll start having lunch and dinner together every day and by the end of the week, we’ll be inseparable.”

“I don’t know if I can stand that much of a good thing,” she said sarcastically.

“Force yourself. After all, it’s for your own good.”

“Okay, after we’ve shown the world how nauseatingly in love we are, what do we do next?”

“I move in with you—twenty-four hours a day.”

“No way!”

“Manda, that’s what people do when they fall madly, passionately in love.” Using his fork, Hunter sliced through his piece of cake, lifted the bite and brought it to Manda’s mouth.

When she opened her mouth on a startled gasp, Hunter slid the cake inside and grinned as she glared at him. She chewed and swallowed. “And I assume you know that we won’t be sharing a bed or even a bedroom.”

“We’ll work out the details later. As long as we give the appearance of being lovers, we don’t actually have to be. Unless you’d like—”

“I wouldn’t like,” she told him.

“How do you know you wouldn’t like it unless you try it?”

“I think you have me confused with your ex-wife. I don’t sleep around. I believe that love and sex go together in a relationship and that the best sexual relationships are created as part of the lifelong commitment two people make to each other.”

“Your grandmother did a good job of brainwashing you with her old-fashioned morals, didn’t she?” Hunter chuckled

“I think more and more people these days are seeing the wisdom in waiting until—”

“Okay.” He grabbed her hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “I have no problem waiting until after we’re married. It should make for an interesting wedding night.”

“Hunter Whitelaw, if you think that I’m going to—”

He kissed her, adeptly silencing her tirade. She struggled for just a minute, then ceased her resistance, but refused to participate in the kiss.

When he lifted his head, he grinned and said, “Baby doll, if we’re going to convince people that we’re in love, you’re going to have to put a little more into it. You’re not doing a very good acting job.”

Keeping her voice low and smiling at him as she spoke, she laid her hand on his shoulder and gazed dreamily into his eyes. “If you call me ‘baby doll’ one more time, I’m going to emasculate you. Do I make myself clear?”