Second Seduction Page 2

  Chuck glared at her half-sister. “They’re closed until ski season.”

  “Do they have water, electricity and heat?” Mark rested his elbows on the counter.

  The look of determination in his eyes reminded her of their first encounter and the way he had pursued until she had agreed to a date. Three weeks later she’d been in love and had spent a long weekend with him. Those four days had been a whirlwind fantasy of love and laughter. When the web of tragedy had brought a shroud of responsibility those days had ended. She stared at her hands. To meet his gaze meant revealing how little her feelings had changed.

  “Christa, the cottage?”

  “They’re meant for groups.”

  “I’ll take one.” He slid his credit card closer.

  He would persist until she agreed. “Do you really want to pay for a place that accommodates eight to ten just for yourself?" His shrug told her he hadn’t changed. He would pursue what he wanted ruthlessly.

  “Why not? I can afford it. There’s never been anyone to help me spend my money.” He brushed a finger over the back of her hand.

  Christa felt tendrils of heat spiral along her arms and take root low in her belly. She held her breath but the scent of him seeped through her pores. Would he change his mind when he saw the weekly rate? She ran the card and filled in the amount. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” His grin was feral. “Haven’t those words been said before? Didn’t you say that to me the day I asked you to spend a weekend with me.” He signed the slip.

  She felt like a mouse being toyed with by a cat. Or a woman pursued by a man whose desire for conquest rode his scent and colored his voice.

  He put the pen down. “Send the audience away. Time for our chat.”

  Every word jabbed like a needle. How could she fight a man who signed for a thousand dollars without checking the amount? “I can tear this slip up and you can go home. There’s nothing to discuss. I chose my life.”

  “But you also chose mine. Just because you didn’t intend to marry me doesn’t mean I would cede all rights to my son.”

  She looked away. What did he mean? Years ago she would gladly have married him. “I see.” She spoke with more calmness that she felt.

  “Do you?” He reached for her hand. “There’s a second reason for this visit.”

  “And that is?”

  “A feature spread in Good Travelin’. Would be good for business. My head writer suggested, ‘An Inn For All Seasons.’”

  The carrot he dangled tempted her. A feature might bring interest from potential buyers. If the inn sold she and Davy could vanish. Or could they? Mark knew he had a son. Would he fight for custody?

  Christa drew a deep breath and donned her innkeeper persona. “Welcome to Green Mountain Inn. The restaurant opens at six for breakfast. Dinner service starts at five. The dining room closes at ten but the bar remains open and has a limited menu. There is a gift shop that carries some snacks and local crafts.” She handed him a key. “Stella and Peggy will take you to the cottage.”

  “Why don’t you do the honors?” His deep voice caressed the words.

  “I have work to do.” She waved to her sisters. “Show Mr. Blakefield to number five.” The cottage was as far from the house she shared with her family as she could manage.

  He pocketed the key and gathered his luggage. “Lead on, ladies. Christa, I’m looking forward to our talk.”

  As the door closed behind them Christa sagged. What was she going to do? He was angry and he had a right to be furious. Why hadn’t she found a time during the past ten years to tell Mark about Davy? That was a question she’d never been able to answer. She leaned against the counter. His being here raised another question. How could she resist the temptation to fall in love again?

  Chapter Two

  Mark wheeled his suitcase along the cobblestone path leading from the inn to the cottages. The Sisters Curious walked beside him. Though matters weren’t going as he’d planned he intended to stay until his questions were answered and he spent some time with his son.

  He wanted to return to the inn and question Christa. He didn’t know the boy’s name and he had no intention of asking Christa’s sisters. If Christa had been his escort they could have negotiated an agreement. He noted a problem with that idea. There had been no compromise in her stance. She had drawn a line and dared him to make a move. He would. Backing off wasn’t his nature.

  A two story house with white clapboard siding stood on a half-circle with five cottages. A garden abutted the path. He saw some pumpkins, clusters of mums in variegated colors and an apple tree with a few apples dangling from the branches. The rest of the garden had died down.

  His guides pointed to the last cottage. “That’s yours.”

  Mark chuckled. Christa wasn’t making this easy, but ten years ago, their first encounter or two had been challenges. He’d pursued her relentlessly for a week until she agreed to a date. He pulled his luggage to the door of number five.

  The taller of the two women touched his arm. “I’m Stella. The runt is Peggy. If Christa keeps icing you, we won’t.”

  The second smiled. “We could help you get settled. Show you were everything is. Tell you things about Christa.”

  “No help needed.” He slipped the key into the lock. “I’m sure you have things to do.”

  “Helping won’t be a problem,” Peggy said. “We have hours before we’re due at the inn. I run the cash registers and Stel’s hostess for the dining room.” She stepped closer. “We don’t work on weekends.”

  “What does Christa do?”

  “Acts like the inn is totally hers,” Stella said. “Oversees the kitchen, the rooms, handles reservations and keeps the books.”

  “She’s a workaholic,” Peggy said. “Won’t let us help and we both have degrees in business.”

  I bet they don’t offer. Mark opened the door, pushed his luggage inside. He followed and closed the door with the sisters on the other side. Looks like Christa has problems other than the one I handed her.

  He paused to survey the rooms. Polished wood floors. Cream colored walls. A large fireplace. A big screen television. An archway led to the kitchen where a half-wall divided the area between cooking and eating. He put the beer in the refrigerator and the cookies on the counter. In the cupboards he found sturdy pottery dishes and a jar of instant coffee.

  Mark pulled his luggage down the hall. One door led to a room with bunk beds. The second revealed a bathroom with a shower stall. The third door opened into a large bedroom furnished with several chests, a wardrobe and a king-sized bed. The second bathroom had a Jacuzzi. He opened the suitcase. As he unpacked he wondered how he could lure Christa into the bed.

  Plans for a second seduction simmered in his thoughts. As the scheme unfolded his body reacted. He released a held breath. He felt as hard as he had the first time he’d seen her. Scenes from their weekend of love-making flowed. They had spent more time in the raw than clothed. For four days they’d made love in every room of the apartment.

  When he found his hand hovering at the zipper of his slacks he groaned. Though he ached for satisfaction he had to be subtle and cautious. Years ago there had been just Christa. Today there was his son.

  That thought shattered his erotic daydream. He put sweaters and underwear in dresser drawers and hung slacks and jeans in the closet. He left his robe on the bed.

  With the unpacking completed he set up his computer in the dining alcove and plugged in the charger for his phone. He needed to check for emails, call his brother to cancel their weekend plans and start his attorney on a search for information.

  There were no voice messages. As he started to leave one for his brother, Matt came on the line. “What do you mean you’re out of town indefinitely?”

  “Exactly what I said. Something I need to deal with came up.”

  Matt laughed. “Something or someone?”

  “You could say bo
th.”

  “Interesting. Thought you were love and leave them kind of guy. Want me to join you and aid the hunt?”

  “Leave off, bro. Found her and plan to keep her.”

  “Whoa.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Then good luck and be careful. Remember, sometimes hunts can turn into traps.”

  “Not this time. I’m doing the trapping and I’m always careful.” Except once. Years ago hi love had been captured and granted him immunity to the women he’d dated. “How is the Home Make Over contest coming?”

  “One more place to check. I’ll head there next weekend.”

  “Have fun.” Mark laughed. “Maybe at this one you’ll find the lady of your dreams.”

  “Doubtful. I’ll leave the love and marriage to our sisters.”

  “Don’t count us out. You never know when the Blakefield lightning will strike. Ciao.” He hung up and hit the speed dial for his attorney.

  “I’ll see if he’s available,” the secretary said. Moments later Mark heard his friend and lawyer’s voice. “Mark, what’s up?”

  “Some advice.”

  “Legal or social?”

  “Mostly legal.”

  “Spill.”

  Mark explained where he was and why he’d driven to northern Vermont. “Haven’t seen my son yet but when you see the picture you’ll have no doubts I’m his father.”

  “You say he’s about nine. We were last year in college around the time he was conceived. Never knew you had anything serious going on back then.”

  “I did.”

  “How can you be sure the boy is yours? You were never one to take chances.”

  “Let’s just say there was a time. Remember spring break? You went to the beach and I stayed at school.”

  Tony whistled. “And were a wreck when I returned. So you found her again. What do you want me to do?”

  “Her name is Christa Parsons but she goes by Sommers now. She was a junior at the U. Place is Green Mountain Inn. Let me know what you learn.”

  “Will do. Be careful. Sign no papers. Don’t even make a verbal agreement or promise. Might be a good idea to return home until we have the facts.”

  “Not going to happen. Talk to you soon.” He hung up and opened a new file on the computer and began to type an outline and questions for a feature on the inn.

  He glanced at his watch. “Nearly three thirty. Wonder if he’s home from school. Mark grabbed his jacket and stepped outside. He glanced toward the house where he felt sure his son lived with Christa. Mark grinned. He could march to the house, pound on the door and announce himself but was that the right move? Maybe not. He should wait until he and Christa had that talk.

  Feeling too restless to return to the cottage he set out to walk off some of his edgy energy. Just beyond the cottage he chose one of the paths that started on the level, then led up a low hill. At the top he stopped to survey the scenery.

  A meadow spread from the slope to the edge of a lake. He noted the wooden boat house and a pier. Across the lake he saw a blaze of color. Splotches of orange and yellow flowed across a background of green. In the center of the display was a circle of scarlet. Were those sugar maples? Did Christa tap the trees to make syrup? That would add a note of interest to the feature if she agreed to have one done.

  Would she, or would she want him gone? Why hadn’t she told him about the pregnancy? He would have married her. He’d been ready to take that step. Her disappearance had brought a cascade of emotions, fear for her, puzzlement and anger. His attempts to find her had been frustrating. There’d been no record of Christa Parsons at the university. He had begun to believe she’d had some scheme that had gone awry.

  He leaned against a tree and fought a recurrence of that emotional storm. When had she changed her name or in his fear and anger had he forgotten? He drew a deep breath. He would learn and the answer would define what he would do. He still wanted her and he wanted his son. Persuading her was the problem.

  He pushed away from the tree and strode toward the lake. As he left the shade sunlight blinded him. When his vision cleared he saw a boy at the edge of the lake. The child’s hair was blond. Mark’s heart hammered against his chest. He wanted to grab the boy and demand his name but caution was needed.

  Mark continued forward. He saw a small boat skin across the water toward the shore. The boy scooped it up and turned. Mark stared. There was no question of paternity. Mark faced himself at a younger age.

  The boy halted. “Are you a ghost?”

  “I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

  “You look like a picture my mom has in her wallet. Of my dad but you’re older.”

  Mark swallowed. Christa had taken some snapshots during their time together. What had she told the boy? “What happened to your dad?”

  The boy shrugged. “I’m not ‘zactly sure. I wasn’t supposed to see the picture but the half-aunts snuck it out and showed me. They thought they were funny.”

  “Half-aunts?” Mark held in a laugh.

  The boy stood with the boat in one hand and the control in the other. “They’re Mom’s half-sisters and that makes them half-aunts. When my grandfather and their mother died, Mom had to take care of them.”

  Mark sucked in a breath. Was that the reason Christa had left so suddenly? It didn’t explain why she hadn’t told him about the pregnancy. “I can see why you call them that. Inventive.”

  The boy nodded. “I’m glad they’re only half. They’re always bothering Mom for things, ‘specially since Peggy finished college and they came here to live. Mom does all the work.” He started up the path and turned. “If you’re not a ghost, who are you?”

  “Mark Blakefield.” Though he wanted to identify himself as the man in the picture he couldn’t. Not until he and Christa talked.

  “See you.” The boy ran off.

  “Wait.” But his son had vanished. Did he suspect the truth? What was the boy’s name? The encounter made the talk with Christa an imperative. He turned and strode back to the inn. A green Jeep pulled out of the parking lot.

  An elderly woman sat behind the desk and looked up when he entered. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Christa.”

  “You just missed her. She went to town. Do you want to leave a message?”

  Mark shook his head. “I’ll catch her later.” He turned from the desk and returned to the cottage.

  * * * *

  Christa and Davy returned from their run to the bank in time to eat dinner at the inn before the place was crowded by the guests and locals. Her son’s silence puzzled her. Usually the trip to and from town was filled by stories of his friends, school and anything that popped into his head. Since he’d returned from the lake he’d been thoughtful.

  Her stomach roiled. Had he met Mark? Had Mark made an announcement or a threat? She needed to know but she was afraid to ask.

  After the waitress brought their food Christa reached for Davy’s hand. “Is something bothering you?”

  He looked up. “Sort of. I know there are ghosts and he wasn’t one.”

  Christa’s hand tightened. “Tell me what happened.” She released her hold when fear flashed in her son’s eyes.

  “There’s this man I saw near the lake. He looked almost like the picture the half-aunts showed me. They took it from your wallet. They said he was my dad and I thought he was dead. Did he have a brother?”

  Christa drew a deep breath. The time had come, but how much should she tell him? “Would you like him to be your dad?”

  Davy shrugged. “Never thought about having one. Might be fun. He said he was Mark something.”

  “Did he say anything else?” She spoke sharper than she’d intended.

  “Just that he wasn’t a ghost. He didn’t touch me or anything. Just stared. Didn’t even ask my name. I ran off ‘cause I didn’t want to miss going to town.”

  Relief washed through Christa. Mark had behaved in a way she hadn’t expected. He hadn’t id
entified himself as Davy’s father or made any move that was a threat. She still needed to explain to her son about the events of the past, but she needed to know Mark’s intentions. She would fight any move on his part to take Davy away. “Do you want to talk more about this?”

  He shook his head. “I need to think if I want a dad or not. I don’t want to go away from you.”

  “I won’t let that happen. That’s a promise.” If Mark tried he would have a fight.

  “Okay.” He picked up his fork and attacked the food.

  Christa smiled. Davy would be fine, but will I? Until she talked to Mark she wouldn’t know his intentions. “Mrs. Lowrey will take you home. Peggy and Stella are working tonight. I have to check on them.”

  He nodded. “That’s good. They’re nosy and always acting like they know a secret.”

  And they did know several. Their thefts. And about Mark. They’d heard his declaration. She hadn’t denied his claim but there was no way they could use that knowledge to hurt her or Davy.

  Christa tasted the Yankee pot roast and sighed with satisfaction. The dish was perfect. She just wished her appetite was equal to the meal.

  While she ate her thoughts turned to her problems. How was she going to tell Davy why his father had been shut out of his life? He would want to know. How could she tell him she had fallen in love with Mark and had feared his reaction to the news? She had imagined Mark denying he was the father or offering her money if she would go away.

  Davy wouldn’t understand. Especially when Mark was here and determined to claim his son. She had made the wrong decision just as she had with her half-sisters. Admitting her mistakes was hard.

  As they began dessert Davy returned to his usual chatty self. She laughed at his stories. He scooped the last bite of apple dumpling with cinnamon ice cream. “Can I leave the tip?”

  “Don’t you always?” She slipped him several bills. After he tucked them beneath his plate they rose. “Don’t give Mrs. Lowrey a hard time. Homework. A half hour of TV, then bath and bed.”

  He nodded. “Can I stay up late tomorrow?”

  “What day is it?”