Holiday In the Hamptons (From Manhattan with Love 5)

“Daniel told you that?”

“He might have mentioned it, but it wasn’t hard to work it out. You always stepped in front of Harriet. Physically, when necessary, but I guess with your father you had a different tactic in mind. You were the equivalent of a flare, tempting the heat-seeking missile off course.” He waited for her to deny it. To shut him down and close him out as she always did.

Instead she gave a soft laugh. “You’re right. That’s what I did. And it worked.”

“Now we’ve finally got that straight, could we also reach the point where you stop calling yourself the bad twin? I hate it. It isn’t who you are. And it certainly isn’t the way I see you.”

“Those were his words, not mine.”

Seth kept his hands tight on the wheel and his eyes fixed on the horizon. “He didn’t know what he was talking about.”

“He knew. He knew how to wound. And once he’d wounded he knew how to make that wound hurt like the devil. I grew up accepting that I couldn’t please him, and somewhere along the way I stopped trying. As long as he left Harriet alone, that was fine by me.”

“And you wonder why your grandmother is proud of you? What exactly did she say? She told you straight out?”

“No. It was her friends, really. They started to tease her. They repeated her words. Chorused it. As if they’d heard her say the same thing time and time again. I thought they meant Harriet. Whenever there was praise floating around, it was usually for Harriet. And that didn’t bother me,” she added quickly, “because she deserved it.”

“So did you, for a million reasons and certainly for stepping in front of her all the time.”

“I didn’t do that for praise. I did it because I loved my sister and hated to see her suffer. She had a terrible stammer as a child. The more he yelled, the worse her stammer, and the more she stammered, the more her confidence dropped. It was a vicious cycle.” It was obvious that thinking back to that time distressed her.

“And now?”

“She hasn’t stammered for a couple of years.” There was warmth in her voice. “We have a great circle of friends, a cool apartment even though it’s on the small side, and she loves her work.”

“And she has that work because of you.” And the apartment, he suspected. “You’re the driving force.”

“We make a good team. And Harriet is tougher than she looks. And maybe she wouldn’t have set it up if she’d been on her own, but she’s as essential to the business as I am. She’s so happy working with the animals. The clients, both human and canine, all love her.”

He wondered if she even realized the extent to which she put her sister first. At the first sign of threat or danger, she stepped in front of her. It seemed to him that it was s

omething she did instinctively, without thinking or maybe even noticing.

“Do you ever wonder what your relationship with your father might have been like if you hadn’t always protected Harriet?”

“It would have been exactly the same.” She paused. “I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t us, it was him. Something in him made him angry. I didn’t expect him to be proud of me. I’ve never expected that from anyone, so tonight when Grams said that—I felt as if someone had stuffed a tennis ball in my throat. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t swallow.” She frowned. “Since I’ve been here I’m starting to realize there’s so much about my grandmother that I don’t know. There are things I’d love to ask her.”

He leaned against the rail of the boat, watching the dying rays of the sun flicker across her hair and face. “Like what?”

“I’d like to ask her about my mother. I want to try to understand why she tried so hard at a marriage that wasn’t working. I want to understand why my father, who didn’t love her at all, wouldn’t let her go. He used us to blackmail her into staying, but why did he even want that? Why not just cut loose so they could both rebuild their lives? He could have met someone else. So could she.”

“You never talked to your mother about it?”

“Harriet tried a couple of times. She wouldn’t talk about it. She said she wanted to think about the future, not the past. And she’s probably right. It’s best to focus on the present.” She threw him a smile. “And talking of the present, how do I handle the inquisition when I get home?”

“Maybe they won’t be too interested in the details.”

“Are you kidding? They wanted to know how you kissed.”

He didn’t know whether to be amused or appalled. “What did you tell them?”

“I told them I couldn’t remember.”

He reached out and yanked her toward him, catching her off balance. She landed against his chest with a thud and a gasp, and for a moment he could smell the fragrance of her hair and skin. His last coherent thought was that if his plan had been to keep his distance, this was the stupidest move of his life. Then he was kissing her, or maybe she was kissing him. It was a blur of hands, lips and need, hers and his, equally matched as it always had been. Everything about it was urgent. A rush of hunger, a burn of desire, and through it all there was the delicious thrill of kissing her again. Only with her had he ever felt this. Everything was exaggerated and more intense. He felt the light curve of her breast and the pounding of her heart beneath his hand. It wasn’t enough. He wanted more, and he tugged at her shirt and felt her hands tugging at his. She was all sleek lines and smooth curves, her skin smooth and warm. He tasted sweetness and desperation on her lips, and felt desire rip through him like flames through a dry forest until all he wanted to do was strip her naked and take her right here and damn the consequences.

But they’d damned the consequences the last time, and he’d spent a decade regretting it. If he carried on, they’d be back where they started, doing what they’d done before. And what they’d had before wasn’t enough for him. This time, he cared about the consequences.

Seth dragged his mouth from hers, yanked her top back down and thrust her away from him, turning his attention back to the boat.