He could even indulge his fantasies, just a little bit and no one would be any the wiser. He could stretch his body out and think of Susan Abbott Whether she’d ever had anyone kiss that perfect little mole. What she’d look like when she came.
He lay back and grinned lazily. It was a harmless pastime, and she would never have the faintest idea he viewed her with anything more than dispassionate curiosity. He could carry the image of. her back with him on his travels, standing there in the midst of her mother’s living room, that mass of white lace falling off her creamy body. He had every intention of enjoying those memories thoroughly.
He sighed, tucking his arms behind his head as he surveyed the cobweb-festooned ceiling of the old building. Whichever of the Abbotts’ faithful retainers had lived here, a generation ago, they obviously hadn’t been interested in creature comforts. Neither was he.
The only creature comfort that lured him right now was a faint, betraying flash of lust for another man’s bride.
Susan had planned on telling Jake Wyczynski how grateful she was, both for bis handy disposal of Vivian’s wedding dress and the delivery of her late aunt Tallulah’s gown, but he was nowhere to be seen the next day. It upset her plans. She found him slightly unsettling, and a friendly, formal meeting would put things back on the right footing.
But he didn’t appear. A package showed up at her mother’s doorstep, along with the latest offerings from FedEx and UPS, but Susan didn’t waste her time with the traditional gifts. She went straight to the small, battered package, knowing instinctively it was from her godmother.
“What’s she sent you now?” Mary looked up from her carefully ordered list of gifts. She’d been brought up to follow the niceties of society to a tee, and she wasn’t about to fail at this critical juncture, the marriage of her only child.
“I haven’t the faintest idea.” Susan held up the intricate mesh of silver. It looked somewhat like a spiderweb, with beads scattered through it.
“Maybe Jake will know. We’ll have to ask him next time we see him.”
“I suppose,” Susan said doubtfully. “You don’t know where he’s staying?”
Her mother shook her head no. “He told me Louisa arranged something for him.”
“Maybe he’s camping somewhere. He looks the type.”
“I thought you used to like camping.”
. Susan squashed down the little trickle of guilt at her mother’s hurt expression. “I liked camping with you, mother. Just the two of us, in the woods, not being Abbotts of Connecticut I guess as I’ve gotten older I’ve learned to appreciate the glories of running water.”
“Have you? Or is it Edward’s civilized effect on you?”
Susan grinned. “I can’t really see Edward roughing it can you? I think he was born in a three-piece suit.”
“I expect you’ve seen him without it at least on occasion,” Mary said, a note of a question in her voice.
She could ignore it. She and her mother had an unspoken respect for each other’s privacy, combined with a deep concern. Their lives had been so entwined, with no husband or father to interfere, that they’d almost developed a kind of mental shorthand. Mary had to have guessed, and she might as well be honest.
“I thought you knew,” she said in a careless voice. “Edward thinks we should wait until we’re married.”
“Wait for what?”
“To sleep together. I thought you would have figured that out.”
Mary Abbott’s expression was blank, but Susan knew her mother far too well. “If that suits you. darling,” she said. “I’m sure you’re old enough to know your own mind.”
Susan managed a careless little laugh. “It’s not as if we both hadn’t tried it in our misspent youth. And we’re so attuned on everything else, we can’t help but be compatible sexually.”
“If you say so.”
“You don’t approve. I would have thought you’d be pleased. Edward is every mother’s dream.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t approve, Susan.” Mary set the legal pad aside. “You know I love Edward dearly. I just want you to be very certain you know what you’re doing.”
“We’re not going to end up like you and my father,” Susan said, unable to keep the defensiveness out of her voice.
Mary’s smile was rueful. “I’m sure you’re not Your father and I were completely at odds about everything. He liked the country, I liked the city, he was an intellectual, I was athletic. He liked to read, I liked to shop. It was a disaster from the word go, and no one was surprised when we divorced a few months after you were born.”
“Did your parents approve?” Susan sat back on her heels, surveying her mother curiously. Mary Abbott could seldom be persuaded to talk about her short marriage, and Susan had been angry enough at her father for abandoning her not to push things. But now, as her life was about to change, she found she was curious.
“They approved of the divorce, not the marriage. Once I changed my name back to Abbott and refused to have anything to do with Alex then everything was fine.” She sighed. “It’s ancient history. I don’t know why I even brought it up.”
