The Elliotts: Bedroom Secrets: Under Deepest Cover. Barbara DunlopЧитать онлайн книгу.
either of your parents be there?”
“Not Mom. She doesn’t set foot at The Tides. Dad will probably be there, though.”
“Your parents don’t get along, then?” Lucy was saddened at the thought of Bryan and his brother growing up with two feuding parents. Scarlet had let it slip that Bryan’s parents had split when he was about twelve.
“Oh, no, actually they get along fine. It’s Patrick my mom can’t stand.”
“Your grandfather?”
He nodded. “I don’t think she’s spoken to him since I was a kid. She’s kept in touch with my aunt Karen, but no one else in the family.”
“Why the feud?” Lucy wanted to know.
Bryan shrugged. “She never said, but I think she blames Granddad for the divorce somehow. Like I said, he is controlling. And when I was—Well, you don’t want to hear all that.”
“I do, really. Unless you’d rather not.”
He continued only reluctantly. “When I was a kid, I had to have an operation—the kind our insurance wouldn’t pay for because it was considered experimental. Granddad paid for it—and I’ll be forever grateful to him, because it saved my life, literally. But I think he felt my parents owed him after that, and he used that debt to keep them under his thumb. Ultimately, I think that’s what caused the divorce.”
Bryan looked so sad, almost shattered, that Lucy reached over and laid her hand on his arm. “Surely you don’t blame yourself. You were just a little boy. You had no control over a health problem.”
“I know. But the fact remains, if I hadn’t gotten sick, our lives would have been a lot different.”
“And maybe you wouldn’t have pushed yourself to become a super athlete, and you wouldn’t have been recruited by the CIA, and you wouldn’t have been assigned to my case, and whoever was watching me would have killed me. You can’t play the what-if game. It’s silly.”
He looked over at her and smiled. “You’re an amazing woman, Lucy Miller.” He took her hand and squeezed it, then didn’t let it go.
“Lindsay Morgan.” She felt the warmth of his touch all the way to her heart. If it felt this fantastic when he touched her hand, what would it be like if he touched her other places?
Don’t go there.
He only released her hand when he had to shift gears, downshifting as he reached their destination.
The Elliott home was in the Hamptons, where else? Lucy had been to the Hamptons a few times for some wild parties, so she thought she knew what to expect. But The Tides, as it was called, shocked her nonetheless. The turn-of-the-century mansion—no other word for it—was perched on a cliff above the shore. To get to it, Bryan turned his Jaguar down a private drive, where a guard waved him through.
“A gated community,” Lucy said. “Nice.”
“Not a community. Just one house.”
“You mean that security guard sits there all the time to guard just one house?”
“That’s right.”
Lucy thought she’d seen wealth and opulence, but she was afraid her preconceived notions hadn’t prepared her for the Elliott estate. As the perfectly manicured grounds passed by outside the car window, she wondered how she would measure up. Designer clothes and a chic haircut didn’t change the fact she was a farm girl from Kansas.
The house up close was even more impressive than from a distance. The rusty sandstone monolith came into view as they rounded the last corner and drove onto the circular drive, and it literally took Lucy’s breath away. The high, peaked roof was gray slate, and there were so many gables and turrets and cupolas and multipaned windows that Lucy’s head spun.
“Wow.”
Bryan laughed. “I loved this place growing up. Always so full of activity, laughing, fighting. Granddad has talked about downsizing now that it’s just the two of them most of the time, but I doubt they’ll ever do it. Gram loves this place too much. She says the grounds remind her of Ireland.”
Other cars had already arrived. Bryan parked and came around to open Lucy’s door, but she was already out of the car by the time he arrived. Again he offered her his arm. “Remember, we’re smitten.”
As if she had to struggle too hard. They walked up the brick stairs to the porch. Not standing on ceremony, Bryan opened the door and ushered her inside a marble foyer with a crystal chandelier twenty people could have swung from. Straight ahead was a formal living room; to the right, Lucy glimpsed a dining room with a massive table already set with linens, china, crystal.
Despite the luxury, the house exuded a welcoming warmth. Elegant and understated, the decor didn’t scream professional decorator. Instead Lucy was willing to bet the lady of the house had decorated it herself. There were family photos and knickknacks everywhere, arranged in attractive groupings. The furniture, while upholstered in stylish colors, appeared to have been chosen for comfort and sturdiness.
A group was already seated in the living room, and the murmured conversation stopped the moment Bryan and Lucy entered. They all looked expectantly at the newcomers.
“Bryan.” A handsome man in his forties bounded up and approached Bryan with a hearty handshake. He looked too young to be Bryan’s father, but with the physical likeness between the two men, they couldn’t be anything but father and son.
He focused on Lucy. “And you must be Lindsay. I’m Daniel Elliott, Bryan’s father.”
They shook hands. “I guessed as much.”
“Everyone,” Bryan said, “this is Lindsay Morgan. I would appreciate it if you didn’t scare her to death. Remember, the Elliotts en masse can be a trifle intimidating.”
Lucy was introduced to each Elliott in turn. His brother, Cullen, was easy to remember, because he looked enough like Bryan to be a twin. Cullen’s wife, Misty, was also memorable, mostly because she was close to six feet tall, pregnant and amazingly gorgeous.
Scarlet she knew, of course, but now she met her fiancé, John Harlan, an ad exec. And Scarlet’s twin sister, Summer, who was a carbon copy, if a tad less flamboyant. Summer’s fiancé, Zeke Woodlow, made a definite impression. Who could forget him? He was a rock star, and a golden god of a man even when he wasn’t assuming his stage persona. He and Summer were on a break from touring, Summer explained, while she and her twin planned their double wedding.
But after a while, the names and faces began to blur. Trying to remember her cover story and commit names to memory proved too much for Lucy’s little brain. It wouldn’t matter in the long run, she told herself. In a matter of weeks she would be gone, hardly a blip on the collective memory of the Elliott clan.
But it did matter. She wanted the Elliotts to like her. She wanted to be a positive reflection on Bryan.
Finally Bryan’s grandparents appeared. Lucy had never met a more intimidating man than Patrick Elliott. Though well into his seventies, he was still strong and vital, and it was clear his word was law around here.
“So you’re the new girlfriend,” he said, giving her a once-over as if she were a horse he’d bought at auction.
Bryan made polite introductions, but Patrick didn’t do anything so modern as shake Lucy’s hand. He nodded brusquely.
“Don’t mind him,” said Maeve, Bryan’s grandmother. She was a petite woman and still a beauty. Her mostly white hair, piled up on her head in an elegant upsweep, carried traces of auburn, and her nose bore a sprinkling of pale freckles. Her green eyes were sharp as a bird’s and missed nothing. “He’s a gruff old goat, but deep down he’s a charmer. Welcome to The Tides, Lindsay.”
Maeve grasped both Lucy’s hands and squeezed them, and Lucy instantly fell in love with the woman. She was just