“We should eat,” he said. “Matilda has prepared a delicious dinner for your homecoming. All the Creole treats you love. We’re starting with Oysters Bienville. Then we have jambalaya, and we’re finishing with Bananas Foster.”
“That sounds wonderful,” she managed to say when she wondered how she could swallow any of it.
Bring your drink,she told John, and he obliged her by picking up his glass and carrying it into the dining room.
They took their seats at the table, where the staff gave everybody speculative looks, and she wondered what had been going on between John and Claire. Had they flaunted their relationship or had the servants simply picked up on the intimacy between them?
The maid brought the baked oysters, the shells resting on a bed of hot salt, then served each of them two.
As Stephanie started to scoop the contents out of the shell, using the small oyster fork, a jolt of mental energy made her hand shake and the shell clatter against the dish.
John gave her a sharp look. “What?”
“I . . . just touched the hot oyster shell by accident,” she lied.
“Let me see.”
“Really, it was just enough to startle me,” she said as she held out her hand, fighting madly to stay calm.
Craig had just contacted her.
Sorry, he apologized.
Where are you?she asked as she bent to fork up the oyster in its creamy sauce, hoping her face wasn’t flushed. Craig was close by. Close enough to contact her.
I’m at the edge of the plantation. Around back.
Be careful,she warned, marveling that he could speak to her from so far away. Maybe it had something to do with the way that woman Rachel had connected her and Craig a while ago.
I am being careful. I just wanted you to know I’m here.
She forced herself to eat the oyster, then smiled at John. “This is so good.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I’d like some more wine,” she said.And you want more bourbon. Lots more bourbon.
They finished the meal, and when they got up from the table, John approached her, putting his arm around her shoulders so that his fingers brushed the top of her breast.
She caught her breath, knowing that she was playing a dangerous game. The whiskey had made him amorous, but had he drunk enough to keep him from performing?
“Let’s have a nightcap in the lounge,” she murmured, reinforcing the invitation with a mental suggestion, which she expanded to include Claire. The longer she could keep the other woman with them, the longer she could keep John from pawing her, she hoped.
The three of them sat together in the lounge. To avoid conversation, she suggested,Let’s watch a movie.
“I wanted . . .” John said, then trailed off as though he had forgotten that he was hot to take his fiancée to bed.
Stephanie silently pushed the movie idea as she brought everyone a drink.
John picked an action adventure, which was better than something sexy. But he crowded against her on the sofa, his lipsbrushing her cheek and his hand touching her leg or the side of her breast.
She fought not to cringe as she kept making suggestions that he drink, and by the time the movie was over, he was unsteady on his feet. Yet he clamped his arm around her as they walked to the stairs.
Her heart was in her throat as she let him walk her up the steps. Inside she was screaming,you’re so sleepy. All you want to do is fall on your bed and sleep. You’ll enjoy making love to Stephanie so much more when your head doesn’t feel so fuzzy.
She held her breath as they passed her room, then continued on to his.
He stood wavering in the doorway, and she helped him inside, easing him onto the bed . He closed his eyes as she pulled off his shoes. Then his eyes blinked open and focused on her.
