Authors: Sylvia McDaniel
At least in Europe she'd been able to lead a quiet life, hidden away with revenge occupying her mind. Rather quickly, she'd learned that loneliness was a cold companion on a stormy winter's night, whereas vengeance stoked a fire deep within her breast.
Her father's command that she return to the States hadn't come at a bad time. The wheels to become financially independent were in motion, and she would have returned of her own accord within the next few months. But instead of returning to New York, she'd come to Charleston, to the sympathetic arms of Aunt Clara and Uncle Sydney. If Father wanted to see her, he'd have to find her. She had no intention of notifying him of her return.
Lifting her fan, she waved it gently, trying to calm her erratic nerves. Alexandra couldn't help but glance back toward the man she'd caught staring at her earlier.
Devilishly handsome, with a smile that dimpled his cheeks.
He was gone. She wondered briefly who he was, then remembered she had no interest in men. They were her past.
"Smile, dear," Aunt Clara scolded. "Try to look like you're enjoying yourself. You're much too beautiful to appear so pensive."
"If I smile much more, my face will lock into a permanent smirk."
Aunt Clara turned on the settee and leaned her stylish gray head close to Alexandra. "You're grimacing, dear. Relax. It's time you got back into society and found a man who deserves you."
"Aunt Clara, you promised me if I came tonight, you wouldn't play matchmaker."
"You insult me, dear." Her aunt peered over her spectacles at Alexandra. "I'm merely introducing my niece to society. If the eligible men of Charleston are not intelligent enough to see a beautiful, available woman, then the
devil take
them."
Alexandra couldn't suppress her giggle. "Aunt Clara, what if Uncle Sydney heard you using such scandalous expressions?"
"Pooh! Your uncle has gone off to talk horses and drink brandy with the men. I daresay he won't be back until midnight."
Alexandra glanced up as Robert Thurston, Gordon's cousin, approached. The sight of gossipy Robert stunned her for just a moment. Then she couldn't help but smile. Maybe she was glad she'd come tonight after all. The telegraph wires between Charleston and New York would be sizzling tonight with the news that the previous Mrs. Thurston had returned.
"Hold your temper, dear. It looks like we're going to be cursed with Robert's presence."
"It's all right, Aunt Clara," she said, pulling her shoulders back as the man approached. Robert would run to Gordon and her revenge would be set in motion.
"Alexandra, what a surprise," Robert said. "The last time I saw you
was
in Judge Martin's court. I didn't know you had returned." His smile was as real as fool's gold and worth about as much.
"Why, Robert, did you expect me to stay abroad forever? I've come home," Alexandra
added,
a drawl to her voice. She glanced at the man and smiled. "You're looking ... quaint."
"I didn't expect to see you here," he responded coolly. "I heard your father called you home.
Companion problems?"
Alexandra smiled. She wouldn't succumb to the urge to throttle the little man in front of all these people.
"England was wonderful, but it was time to come back to the States. The relative I was caring for succumbed to her broken heart and died." She paused, enjoying the disappointed expression on his face. "How are Gordon and Julia?"
"Quite well.
They have a daughter." He shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the switch in conversation. "The bank is doing well."
"Wonderful. Gordon must be very happy. After all, everything worked out as he planned."
Robert glanced around, anxious."Yes... well, I should return to my friends. I'll be sure to tell Gordon you're back in the States."
"Please do. I know our paths will cross soon. Tell him I said maybe we could have tea and catch up on the last five years. He could fill me in on how well my investments are doing since he took them over."
Robert hurried away, his discomfort obvious. He'd always reminded her of a
banty
rooster, brave until you challenged him, then eager to dash away.
Alexandra couldn't help but feel somewhat triumphant. Everything was falling into place so nicely and she'd been back less than a week. Surely this was a portent of things to come. Surely she was meant to take control of her life.
"You handled that beautifully, child," Aunt Clara said in praise."I'm so glad you went away to England, though I missed you terribly. Time has matured you into a strong woman."
"I was always strong, though no one realized it," Alexandra murmured to herself. "Not even me."
Oh, Aunt Clara, if only you knew the truth about my marriage to Gordon. But you will soon ... very soon
.
And Gordon would have good reason to worry about the return of his
exwife
.
"Pick up your dance program, love, and look interested," Aunt Clara said. "One of my neighbors is approaching. An attractive rogue if ever I've met one.
Quite the ladies' man."
The words "ladies' man" grated against her already raw nerves. Another Casanova was not what she wanted or needed at this moment. The evening was beginning to tax her greatly.
Alexandra turned on the settee and watched as the very man who had stared at her earlier sauntered across the room, his dark blue eyes never wavering from her face. Her heart beat in an irregular rhythm as he approached. He filled out his evening clothes in a way few men in the room could. His broad shoulders, tapered waist, and long legs gave the impression of strength and virility. He walked like a man secure in the knowledge that he was attractive and that nothing would get in his way.
For the first time in years, Alexandra felt flushed with an inner heat. Her aunt's words echoed in her head.
Ladies' man
.
Everything about the handsome gentleman set off alarm bells.
"Mrs.
LaRoux
," he said to Aunt Clara as he reached them.
"How nice to see you again."
His voice was deep, his words rhythmic and soothing. His eyes met and held Alexandra's gaze. "I haven't seen Fancy in a while. Did Sydney finally break that mare of jumping the fence to entice my stallions?"
His eyes lingered over Alexandra, leaving her warm and flushed. Yet his bold words, accompanied by a brash stare, annoyed her.
God, how she hated men who were so sure of their attractiveness.
"Shame on you, Connor Manning," Aunt Clara said,
blushing
a pretty pink as she waved his words away. "Ladies do not speak of such things."
He
laughed,
his deep voice pleasant. "As many times as Sydney came to collect that mare from my paddock, I thought it was common knowledge."
"Talk to Sydney about that horse. The animal is expecting a foal in the spring, you know."
"I'm not surprised."
Aunt Clara flicked her fan at the man."Let me introduce my niece who has just returned from England. Connor Manning, please meet Mrs. Alexandra Thurston."
He reached for her hand, and Alexandra involuntarily stiffened. His palm engulfed her
smallgloved
hand, warm and strong.
"I couldn't help but notice you haven't danced," he said. "The men of Charleston are sometimes shy when it comes to new ladies in town. I wondered if you'd take a turn on the dance floor with me, Mrs. Thurston."
So, he'd noticed that people avoided her.
Men usually paid attention to her for one of two reasons: They thought she would be an easy sexual conquest or they believed she had money. Which reason had prompted Mr. Manning?
She glanced up and grimaced inwardly as her eyes met Robert's watchful gaze. Whatever she did tonight would certainly find its way back to Gordon, and she wanted that cad to think her life had resumed a normal path since their divorce.
"I would enjoy dancing," Alexandra replied. She wanted to grit her teeth as she laid her hand in Connor's, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.
The strains of a waltz began as he nestled his hand on her waist. Alexandra slowly relaxed in his arms as the years absent from dancing melted away and her feet fell into the familiar rhythm.
"How long will you be staying with your aunt?" Connor asked.
Alexandra glanced into blue eyes that shimmered with intensity. His mouth turned up for a slight smile, as if to reassure her she was safe. She bristled.
"I haven't decided," she replied in a cool tone.
Colorful ball gowns swirled around them as couples passed by. Satin and jewels sparkled under the gas lamps, twinkling with cold promise. Her hand rested against the taut, strong muscles beneath his black suit coat. A sense of warmth pervaded Alexandra, and she was quick to remind herself that this man was like all men, deceitful. Memories of other men who thought, because of her divorced status, that she was an easy conquest made her itch to wipe the smile from his face. No man would get away with duping her again.
"I hope you'll stay long enough for the people of Charleston to get to know you," he said, drawing her closer.
She stiffened her arms, preventing his ploy, and raised a challenging brow. "Why is that, sir?"
Surprise rippled across his face, quickly subdued by his charming smile. "You're not from around here, and the people of Charleston would like to share our hospitality with you."
Somehow she didn't think that was all he'd like to share with her.
"They've certainly been friendly tonight," Alexandra replied, unable to contain her sarcasm.
Connor chuckled. "I must admit you've caught their attention."
It would be easy for an innocent to succumb to his easy charm, but Alexandra was no innocent. She'd dealt with his kind before. "If their lives are that boring, then I'm glad I've provided some amusement."
"You've definitely made this one of the more talked about events of the year." He maneuvered smoothly through the throng of dancers. "What do you like to do, Mrs. Thurston?"
She wanted to tell him her hobbies were none of his business, but instead she replied, "I like to read, write. I enjoy needlepoint and horses."
The blue of his eyes warmed as he focused on her lips. "You enjoy a good ride?"
Alexandra frowned. "Yes, I ride horses."
"I have a stable full of stallions." Connor smiled and leaned closer. "But I haven't found a good mare as yet."
"A good mare is hard to find. Many come from weak bloodlines.
Are you wanting
an Arabian or a Thoroughbred?" she asked, trying to keep the conversation on safe ground. Somehow she thought their discourse was more about
twolegged
creatures than four.
Connor raised his eyebrows. "I'm impressed. You are indeed a fine horsewoman to know the difference."
"My mother loved horses and was quite knowledgeable. She passed it on to me." Though he held her at arm's length, she felt enveloped by his presence. The cologne he wore teased her mercilessly with its spicy, masculine strength. His eyes seemed to reach inside her and touch the part of her she'd locked away after the divorce.
"I'm looking for a Thoroughbred," he said, "but would be interested to hear what you consider the good qualities of a mare."
"Good height, deep girth, open elbows with a good front," she said, refusing to acknowledge he meant anything besides horses.
He smiled. "You know exactly what a man is looking for in a good mare. So far, I've had little luck. Recently, I thought I'd found a good one, but the length of rein was much too short."
"I've seen men fall head over heels when a horse was short in front. It's definitely something to watch out for," she replied coolly. The man was an artist at innuendo.
"I'm a very careful man," Connor
advised,
his voice low and sultry. "I never fall."
His cockiness was almost enough to send her fleeing from the dance floor. Was that what he wanted?
To humiliate her in front of all of Charleston society?
The
devil take
him, but she would outlast him.
"Pride goes before the fall, does it not?" she couldn't refrain from asking.
"Sometimes," he admitted as he twirled her, but she managed to stay in step and keep him at the proper distance.
"How should one break a horse, Mrs. Thurston? By being hard with the whip and tight with the bit, or by coaxing them into allowing one to mount?"
He was definitely referring to something more than horses. The man was entirely too brazen.
Much too sensual.
"I leave that to the trainers," she replied.
"To experienced men."
At that, Connor caught her unprepared and reeled her in closer. Alexandra felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room, leaving her sweltering.
"I enjoy the challenge of training horses myself," he said, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. "I start them out slow and gentle, feeding them bits of sugar when they accomplish a small goal, until they trust me to mount them."