His hands moved to hold her shoulders and maintain her position while a pleasant fire warmed her blood. Their lips clung together for only a short span of seconds, but the kiss bridged the four years of anticipation and made the long wait worthwhile. A soft glow filled her expression when she leaned away.
“Pip has Mommy’s lipstick on his mouth.” Ty laughed and pointed.
“It tastes good,” Phillip assured him as he removed the linen handkerchief from his suit pocket to wipe the red from his mouth. He accomplished it with a certain panache that indicated a pride in the action, as if he, too, had waited for a reason to wipe off her lipstick.
The reference to taste reminded Ty of something else. “Can we go, Mommy? Aunt Cath’een made cake and candy and everything. It might spoil if we don’t go home.”
“It certainly might.” She laughed in agreement.
“Wait here,” Phillip instructed and added with a wry lift of an eyebrow, “I’ll see if I can find the car.”
In addition to the cake and tea—milk for Ty—there were gifts waiting for her in the Gordons’ home. Before Maggie had a chance to open them, a special-delivery telegram arrived from her brother. She signed for it and tore open the envelope.
It read:
MAGGIE—CONGRATULATIONS. SORRY I COULDN’T COME. ALWAYS KNEW YOU COULD DO IT. WE’LL SHOW THEM CALDERS YET.
CULLEY
The Calder name trespassed onto even this special day.
Later that evening, after Maggie had put Ty to bed, she told her aunt she was going out for a walk, explaining there had been too much excitement that day for her to go to sleep. Cathleen agreed that a walk was what she needed.
A light was burning in the tack room window of the stable. Maggie had half-guessed and half-hoped it would be Phillip. When she entered, the aromatic blend of pipe smoke and saddle soap greeted her first. Phillip was staring at a photograph on the wall, one of her riding his black jumper, Sable. He was dressed in gray, a color that suited him so well, a pearl-colored shirt, and charcoal-gray trousers in the hugging, Continental style. He turned to face her as she approached.
“Do you remember the pact we made four years ago?” She stopped in front of him.
“I remember it very well, Elizabeth.” There was a husky pitch to his voice, but he was still wearing the mask that concealed his thoughts whenever she was near.
“Nothing has happened to change the way I feel.” Before he could say it, Maggie did. “And don’t tell me that you’re old enough to be my father, because it doesn’t make any difference. So what are we going to do about it?”
A suggestion of a smile spread slowly across his expression. “I think a man is entitled to make a fool of himself over a woman at least once in his life. Why don’t you come kiss this old fool?”
With a soft, exultant laugh, she glided into his open arms and lifted her mouth to his descending lips. The kiss was firm in its possession, claiming what had been his for a long time. If it lacked spontaneous fire, his experience at arousing a response more than made up for it. Besides, Maggie had been burned by her affair with Chase, an affair sparked by combustible chemistries. She wasn’t seeking that sexual volatility with a man. She wanted something safe and solid, a relationship that would be the complete antithesis of the one she’d known with Chase. Phillip’s lovemaking offered her that, his kiss arousing her without ever overpowering her.
When he began to trail tantalizing kisses over her face, she closed her eyes in sheer contentment. Her hands lay quietly on the lean wall of his chest, feeling the erratic pattern of his heartbeat. His arms offered her a safe haven. They promised security, comfort, devotion—all the things she was seeking. He was the father she’d never had; the friend she’d never known.
“I love you, Phillip.” The words came easily from her lips.
His exploring mouth lingered near the corner of hers, a shudder running through him. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that, my darling, so long.” He kissed her, confidently, surely.
She wanted no fire or flame, only a heady glow. Her hands caressed no brawny muscle, only trim, lean flesh. She preferred skill to raw passion. She wanted no man in her arms to remind her of Chase Calder—no ghost from the past to confuse her about who she was with in the present, so she was not disappointed. She was overjoyed that she had found the very person she had been seeking, someone she could care about emotionally, and who could provide an outlet for her sexual needs.
Chapter XXII
Her lounge chair was situated in the shade of a tree so Maggie could escape the heat of a July sun and still watch Ty playing cowboys and Indians on the lawn. She glanced at the brief letter on her lap, but her attention was distracted by the heavy diamond ring on her finger, the engagement ring Phillip had given her.
The wedding was to take place in September, which was the earliest Phillip could arrange to take a month off from his surgical schedule so they could have a proper honeymoon. Maggie had suggested that they marry now and go on a honeymoon later, but he had rejected that plan, insisting he wanted to do it the old-fashioned way—the wedding, followed immediately by a honeymoon. Maggie was certain she was correct in suspecting his true motive was to give her these summer months to reconsider, but she had absolutely no doubts about her decision to marry him.
No one had tried to talk her out of marrying Phillip. Her aunt had hesitated only an instant until she observed how happy and contented Maggie looked and had immediately given them her blessing. Pamela was the only one who had misgivings about their marriage, but for an entirely different reason from Phillip’s concern for their difference in ages. As Maggie had gradually discovered, Pamela was essentially self-centered, accustomed to a doting brother. While she was overjoyed at the prospect of Ty living in the same house with her, Pamela didn’t care for the idea that she might have to compete with another woman for her brother’s attention. It had required a bit of tact on Maggie’s part to assure her there was no cause for concern. Now it was her future sister-in-law who was organizing all the details for the wedding, which was to be a simple affair, nothing grand or elaborate.
Naturally, Maggie had informed Culley of her impending marriage and written to him about her fiancé. There were some things she hadn’t told him, some things he wouldn’t have understood. A large part of the attraction she had for Phillip came from the positive father image he represented. Maggie couldn’t explain that to her brother. Their own father had never been someone she could look up to, admire, or respect. Angus O’Rourke had never assumed the responsibility of looking after his daughter; in fact it had been the other way around. She knew Phillip would always look after her and be concerned about her interests, as well as his own. He would be there to lean on when she needed someone’s support, yet at the same time, Phillip would allow her to be independent, her own person, as a father should.
It was a many-faceted relationship. Maggie had written to Culley only that part of it that he would understand. She read through her brother’s reply again.
July 12
Dear Maggie,