Always (15 page)

Revelers packed the Stephens's chicly decorated front room, a hum of chatter rising with the cigarette smoke that lingered above the group. Lights glittered off sequins everywhere as formally attired caterers slipped through the throng with trays held aloft.

Susan met them as they walked through the small, elegantly lit entry hall. "Elinor!" The older woman wore a look of exaggerated surprise. "Why, honey, if I'd known you'd feel up to a party so soon after Daniel's death, I would have invited you."

"How considerate of you," Elinor returned with what she hoped was a barbed smile. The old biddy had to have planned this soiree weeks ago, long before Daniel died.

Susan slipped her arm through Cole's. "How nice of Cole to look after you like this. He's such a kind-hearted boy."

He disentangled himself from Susan with a charming smile. "Kindness should always be this easy."

"Oh." Susan's artificial gaiety slipped for a moment as she met his steady gaze. "Well, I'm so glad you both could come." Recovering her composure, she urged them toward the group in the salon. "Come on in! I planned this little buffet just for you, Cole." She leaned toward him, dropping her voice conspiratorially. "I knew it would help in your business if you met all the finest families in the parish."

"How kind of you, Susan," Cole remarked, tongue in cheek, as they entered the crowded room.

Susan was definitely planning on gaining a prosperous son-in-law.
Elinor realized with a flash of insight. The woman would be livid if she knew that the man she was so openly courting had only hours before proposed to Elinor.

The thought warmed Elinor as they moved through the crowd. She might not be able to see herself married to a millionaire, but it was nice to be asked.

The crowded room contained many people Elinor knew, some of whom were her clients. Separated from Cole early on, she mingled, chatting with acquaintances and occasionally accepting condolences on the loss of her grandfather. To her relief, no one seemed the least shocked to see her there.

"Miss Prescott!" a well-preserved matron called out, snaring her attention.

"Why, hello, Mrs. Wilmington. How are you?"

The immaculately coiffed woman smiled at Elinor warmly. "I'm fine, my dear. You look so lovely tonight."

"Thank you."

"I just wanted to grab you for a moment to chat about the Peach Festival." Mrs. Wilmington drew her inexorably aside. "You did promise Daisy that you'd help with a booth, didn't you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I did."

"Wonderful. We want you for our Ladies' Guild booth. We're selling homemade peach ice cream again. And this year I've found some darling little outfits for the volunteers to wear."

"Outfits?" Elinor echoed hesitantly.

"Yes," the older woman said firmly. "Milkmaid outfits. I've purchased them myself. You'll look precious in one."

"Oh, good," she forced herself to say. "I'm always glad to help out the Ladies' Guild." Surely, she could tolerate a few hours in a milkmaid's outfit for charity.

"Wonderful." Mrs. Wilmington beamed and patted Elinor's hand. "You must excuse me, dear. I need to speak with Charlotte Bixby."

Elinor couldn't help smiling as the determined do-gooder bore down on another victim. Charlotte didn't stand a chance.

The room had grown warm with the heat of so many people, and Elinor decided to seek out a drink at the bar the caterers had set up in the back of the room. A press of people crowded around the bar. She placed her order with the harried bartender and stood back to wait.

"Congratulations," a sultry voice said.

Elinor swung around, surprised to find Norell at her side. "I beg your pardon?"

The dark-haired woman, looking gorgeous in a form-fitting red dress, smiled at her. "I said, 'congratulations.' You've bagged yourself quite a man."

"Miss?" the bartender barked.

Grateful for the distraction, Elinor took the glass he held out to her. She sipped at her drink while Norell leaned forward, giving the bartender an eyeful of cleavage as she sweetly requested a martini.

Her order placed, Norell turned to Elinor again. She smiled ruefully. "Good luck on keeping him. But Cole's not a man who's easily snared."

"No?" Her throat still felt dry despite the gulp of white wine. She could just imagine how Norell had tried to snare Cole. The thought left her fingers curling into claws.

"No, indeed, he's not." Norell sighed, before smiling at Elinor again. "I am intelligent enough, however, to know when I'm up against tough competition. Cole is obviously enamored of you. Now."

Cole threaded his way through the vivacious crowd, searching for a tumble of chestnut hair in the crowd. He'd lost Elinor more than an hour ago when his attention had been snared by a financier from Vicksburg. The man had talked incessantly, but as soon as he could, Cole had broken away and gone looking for her. A hard knot of anxiety had been forming in his belly over the last week and it grew more intolerable by the minute. He was in love with Elinor. Irrefutably and irrevocably. And he was scared spitless of losing her.

Each day that passed with the sale of Oakleigh still unsettled increased the chance that the whole deal would blow up in his face.

Buying the plantation house was no longer a priority. For her, he would give it up. But he ran into problems every way he turned. Now that Daniel was dead, and the house almost certainly left to Elinor, Cole suspected she
needed
to sell.

Cole had done his homework before ever offering on Oakleigh. He knew that Daniel owed back taxes and had little actual income. As far as he could tell, no provisions had been made for a pension for Charlie.

Even if Elinor wanted to keep the house, she'd be hard-pressed to find a way to do it.

Withdrawing his offer on the house would leave her in the lurch. But seeing the purchase through could very well endanger the fragile trust he hoped she was beginning to feel for him.

Today, as he'd held her in his arms while she slept, a daring idea had occurred to him. If he could get Elinor to marry him, now, immediately, it would be harder for her to leave him when the truth came out.

"I was beginning to think that you'd skipped town."

Cole swung around, drawn by her voice.

Elinor leaned against a decorative column, her smile hinting at shared secrets.

Pushing past a group of revelers, he went to her and pulled her into his arms. "Let's get out of here." His voice sounded too husky and she looked up at him in surprise.

"Already? I'm sure you haven't met all the best families in the parish yet." She fluttered her eyelashes at him saucily.

He captured her mouth in a breathless, hungry kiss that set the blood pounding in his veins. When he pulled back, she stared up at him with dilated eyes, her soft mouth parted by her rapid breath.

"I'm ready anytime you are," she said.

Cole made his way through the throng, towing Elinor in a firm grasp as he stopped to say their farewells to a surprised and disappointed Susan.

"We really must be going," he said for the second time. "Goodnight."

The cool night air was a relief as the door closed behind them. Cole, his hand still locked with hers, walked to the car without speaking. He wanted her with a fierce hunger that, if allowed to take control, would end up with them rolling on the mayor's front lawn, locked in passion. She was so responsive to his touch that he thought she might actually agree to such a shocking activity.

But he had to keep his head if he were to seduce her into marrying him tonight.

They walked down the darkened street to his car. Cole unlocked the passenger door but didn't open it. Instead, he pulled Elinor into his arms and leaned her against the car, taking her mouth in a sizzling kiss.

She melted in his arms, as she always did, moving against him in a way that threatened to drive him insane.

"El?" he whispered, holding her tight. "Let's get married tonight."

"What?" She stared up at him in confusion.

"I have a private jet waiting in Monroe. We could be there in an hour—"

"A jet?"

"—and we could be married in Las Vegas before morning."

"Cole . . ." Her eyes were dark and disturbed. "I don't know. It seems crazy."

"It'll be fun, El." He tried to keep the intensity out of his voice. The slightest unexplained nuance could frighten her away. "We're perfect together."

She stared up at him, clearly torn between longing and good judgment.

"I'll never let you down, El," promised Cole, bending to press a soft kiss on her mouth. "You can trust me."

Elinor closed her eyes and sank against him. "So much has happened in the last few days," she whispered emotionally. "You tempt me more than you can know, but please don't rush me about this. Okay?"

* * *

"Come to order, people." Mayor Stephens tapped his gavel. "We have some important business to deal with today."

The council members quieted down. Elinor straightened her papers, trying not to look at Cole.

The mayor spoke again. "Now you've all looked over the proposed actions on today's agenda. And all of you have had a chance to read Cole's prospectus on the manufacturing plant." He looked around the table as everyone nodded.

"So, today we're here to take a vote on both the zoning issue and the tax break. I've invited Cole to sit in with us for a while to answer any questions you might have." The mayor paused, smirking at Elinor. "Unless, of course, all your doubts have been put to rest."

Elinor met his gaze steadily, allowing her dislike of his innuendo to be clear in her eyes.

Mayor Stephens looked away quickly. "Okay, discussion, anyone?"

Several council members spoke up asking for clarification on items addressed in the prospectus. Cole answered each point calmly, his manner devoid of hype.

Elinor sat quietly during the discussion, her heart thundering. For good or bad, she knew what her vote would be.

If everything Cole said was true, the citizens of Bayville should be cheering. The safety reports Cole had given her showed he had a squeaky-clean record when it came to environmental concerns and worker protection.

The problem was that "if." Everything in her heart told her that she could trust him. He had never broken his word to her before, never ended up being anything other than what he claimed.

But trusting a rich man came hard for Elinor. Despite her head-over-heels infatuation with him, she couldn't rid herself of a nagging anxiety. Was Cole taking them all for a ride? Rich, successful businessmen had bribed government inspectors before.

Elinor knew that the absence of money didn't guarantee a man's integrity, but she couldn't dismiss the fact that she'd seen the demoralizing power of money firsthand.

She was voting for the manufacturing plant, but she couldn't yet bury the fear of trusting Millionaire Whittier with her heart.

"Are there any other questions?" the mayor asked. The council members shook their heads. "Then let's ask Cole to step out into the hallway while we take a vote."

Half an hour later, Elinor gathered up her notes and threw them into her case. Behind her, the mayor and several other council members were congratulating Cole.

Shuffling some papers, she crammed everything into the briefcase. As she tossed in her pen, her sensors went on red alert. She felt his presence immediately as he approached her. Elinor straightened, looking into his eyes.

He smiled at her, a flicker of understanding in his expression. "Thanks, El. I appreciate the vote of confidence."

Splat
. Elinor threw the scrub brush into her bucket of water and straightened to stretch her back muscles. Sun streamed in the cottage kitchen windows and whispered in with the breeze from the open back door. Even this early in the day, Louisiana summers were warm.

Elinor had a load on her mind, and scrubbing floors somehow seemed to ease her thinking.

Cole wanted to marry her. The idea still boggled her mind a week later. Marriage to a millionaire seemed as much a fantasy to her as blasting off in the space shuttle. She just couldn't see herself doing it. But the man himself was a major temptation. It astonished her that she was actually considering the idea.

She lifted her arms away from her body to catch the movement of warm air, glad that she'd put on cool clothes to tackle the floor. After a moment's rest, Elinor shook the water from her brush and bent to the floor again, images of Cole floating through her mind.

Footsteps sounded in the front hall.

"El?" Cole appeared in the kitchen doorway looking every inch the powerful millionaire in his custom-tailored suit. "Do you usually leave your door wide open like that?"

"Always on summer mornings," she responded smiling up at him. She stretched to scrub at a resistant spot of wax. "Watch out, the whole floor is wet. I'm just finishing up."

"My, my, my," he breathed out, seeming to see her fully for the first time. "You're . . . terribly industrious this morning." He leaned against the doorjamb, his gaze meandering down the length of her legs, exposed by the short shorts she had donned for her housecleaning.

"I do like the look of a woman at work," he remarked, shrugging out of his suit coat and tossing it over a chair in the hallway. He slipped out of his expensive Italian shoes and took off his socks.

"Cole?" Elinor straightened. "What are you doing?"

"Rolling up my pants," he said.

"I can see that," she shot back with asperity. "What I'd like to know is why you're rolling up your beautifully pressed trousers. Are you having the urge to go wading again?"

"Yes," he chuckled. "In your scrub water."

"What?"

Cole flashed his mischievous grin. "I'm going to help you with the floor." Barefooted, he walked across the damp floor and retrieved a mop from the sink.

Elinor sat back on her heels, laughter bubbling in her throat at the incongruous sight he made in his starched and pressed shirt and rolled-up pants. "I have a hard time believing that scrubbing floors is your favorite past time."