In The Tycoon's Bed. Maureen ChildЧитать онлайн книгу.
to have a change of subject, Sadie laughed. “Oh, please. You never knew I was alive when we were teenagers.”
“That right?” He dropped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close to him. “I was playing basketball with some guys one day at the park when you walked by with Abby and a couple of other girls. Don’t remember who they were, because my memory’s all about you. Your hair was long and you had it pulled back into a ponytail. You were wearing white pants and a red top and you were smiling at something. And I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
“You’re making that up.”
“I called your name and threw the basketball to you. You were surprised, but you caught it. Then you looked at me like you didn’t have a clue what to do next and you just set the damn thing down on the grass and walked away.”
Her heart softened at his words as she realized that he had noticed her all those years ago. And she wondered what might have happened between them if she’d had enough courage back then to actually talk to him.
“Oh, God, I remember that, too.” She laughed a little uneasily. “I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to throw it back to you, but I was afraid I’d do it wrong and look foolish in front of everyone. So I didn’t do it at all. It’s the Price way,” she told him softly. “Always worry about what people will think.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said, “wasn’t my point.”
“What is the point then, Rick?” Yes, knowing that he noticed her was lovely, but talking about the past didn’t change the future.
“You were always the unattainable, beautiful Sadie Price,” he told her.
“I was,” she said softly, shaking her head at the swarm of memories his words had created. “My parents put me on a shelf and kept me there until I was old enough to marry the ‘right’ man. Of course, he turned out to be all wrong.”
“Maybe,” he answered, “what you need to do is marry the ‘wrong’ man who might turn out to be just right.”
She looked at him. “You just don’t give up, do you?”
“I’m a marine, darlin’. We never surrender.”
“God, why are you so stubborn?”
“When I see something I want, I go get it.”
“Why me?”
“Hell, have you seen you? You’re beautiful. Smart. Sexy as hell. And, oh, yeah. The mother of my children.”
“There it is again,” she said, pushing out of his arms. Sliding to the edge of the bed, she got up and walked to the window overlooking the front yard. Then she turned and speared him with a hard look. “That’s the real reason for your pursuit. For your proposals.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t want to be the next duty you pick up and shoulder because you think it’s the right thing to do. I want to be wanted for me.”
Now he pushed off the bed and stalked to her side. “I just proved to you that I do want you.”
“Rick, we’re arguing in circles,” Sadie said, laying both hands on his bare chest. “We don’t agree. We’re not going to agree. So can we just at least drop it?”
He sighed, then pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. “We can do that. I don’t want to waste what we’ve got fighting over what we don’t. So yeah, we can drop it. For now.”
She closed her eyes as she laid her head on his chest. That wasn’t a concession, she knew. Rick wasn’t the kind of man who would give up and walk away from what he perceived as his duty.
But for tonight at least, there was a ceasefire.
A few days later, Sadie was sitting in the TCC dining room having lunch with Abby. The girls were with Hannah, and Sadie hadn’t seen Rick since their amazing night together.
She was torn between relief and fury. She should be happy he was backing off as she had asked him to. On the other hand, for a guy who said he never gave up, he was giving up awfully easily.
“You look serious,” Abby commented, lifting her glass of iced tea for a sip. “Or is that furious?”
“A little of both, I guess,” Sadie admitted. She gave a quick look around.
The dining room was crowded, as it always was at lunchtime. There were members and their wives, seated at the elegant tables. Whispers of conversation rose and fell like the tide and the smooth wait staff moved in and out of the crowd in a seamless dance that was practically choreographed.
Lowering her voice, Sadie said, “It’s Rick, of course.”
“Naturally. How’re things going with him, anyway? Haven’t talked to you since the Fourth.”
A flush swept up Sadie’s cheeks and she was glad that the lighting in the TCC was so dim. Otherwise, everyone in the room would have seen her pale skin burning red. Bad enough that Abby was close enough to notice.
“Well, that’s intriguing,” Abby said, flipping her long, dark red hair back over her shoulder. Then she narrowed sharp blue eyes and ordered, “Tell me everything.”
Sadie did. Leaving out the details of that sinfully sexy night, she got right down to the bare bones of it.
“Chemistry, oh, yes,” she said as she was winding down, “we’ve got that, there’s no doubt. But, Abby, he keeps insisting he wants to marry me despite me telling him no at every turn.”
“And why is it again you’re turning him down?”
Sadie looked at her friend in stunned surprise. “Because he’s only asking because of the girls.”
Abby smirked and took a sip of tea. She shook her head. “Doesn’t sound like it to me. Sounds like he’s asking because he can’t keep his hands off of you.”
A stir of something hot and wicked whipped through Sadie at the words. But she wouldn’t be fooled by her own passions. “No. This is about duty. Plain and simple.”
Their waiter appeared to deliver two enormous Cobb salads and when he was gone again, Sadie changed the subject. “I’m so tired of thinking and talking about me. What’s going on with you and Brad?”
Abby snorted and picked up her fork to stab a slice of hard-boiled egg. “Firstly there is no me and Brad. There is simply me battering away at your thick-as-a-post brother.”
“And good luck with that,” Sadie told her. “But what’s happening with the club?”
Abby looked around now, checking to make sure no one was listening. “Brad is running for president of the club and judging from what I’ve heard, he’s pretty much got the position sewn up.”
“Uh-oh,” Sadie said, thinking that this couldn’t possibly end well.
“Exactly. If Brad wins the presidency, then he’ll find a way to not only get rid of me, but to keep all women out of the club forever.”
“Sounds like him,” Sadie admitted.
“Absolutely it does,” Abby told her, dropping her fork with a clatter against the ceramic bowl. “And the man will find a way to keep this club locked into the past. Honestly, he is infuriating. He’s so hidebound to tradition, he should be living in the nineteenth century.”
“Also sounds like him,” Sadie concurred.
“Well, he’s not going to best me,” Abby vowed. “You know, all of this started with the talk of rebuilding the club—which I still think is a great idea.”
“I can sort of see Brad’s point,” Sadie said as she looked around the familiar room. Her father was a member