Shades of Twilight (Page 68)

Then suddenly Webb was beside her, his hand on her arm as he lifted her to her feet.

"You’re so tired you’re wobbling in your chair," he said in an abrupt tone.

"Go on up to bed. Mayfield’s proposal was all we needed to discuss."

Just that small touch was enough to make Roanna want to lean into him, rest against his strength, feel the heat and hardness of his body against her one more time. To keep

T_

from giving in to the impulse, she made herself move away from him.

"I am tired," she admitted quietly.

"If you’re sure that’s all, I’ll go upstairs now."

"That’s all," Webb said, a frown pulling his eyebrows together.

Roanna murmured a good-night to Lucinda and left the room. Webb watched her go with narrowed eyes. She had pulled away from him. For the first time in his memory, Roanna had avoided his touch.

"Will she sleep?" he asked aloud, not looking at Lucinda, "Probably not." She sighed.

"Not much, anyway. She seems … oh, I don’t know, a bit edgy. That’s the most she’s put herself forward in years. I’m glad you listened to her instead of just shrugging it off. I had to teach myself to pay attention to what she says. It’s just that she notices so much about people, because they do all the talking and she just listens. Roanna picks up on the little things."

They chatted for a few minutes longer, then Lucinda carefully rose from the couch, proudly refusing to reveal the difficulty of the movement.

"I’m a bit tired, too," she said.

"My days of dancing ’til dawn are over."

"I never had any," Webb replied wryly.

"There was always work to be done."

She paused, watching him with a troubled look.

"Was it too much?" she asked suddenly.

"You were so young when I gave Davencourt to you. You didn’t have time to just be a boy. 11 "It was hard work," he said, shrugging.

"But it was what I wanted. I don’t regret it." He had never regretted the work. He’d regretted a lot of other things but never the sheer exhilaration of pushing himself, learning, accomplishing. He hadn’t done it just for Davencourt, he’d done it for himself, because he’d gotten off on the power and excitement of it. He’d been the golden boy, the crown prince, and he’d reveled in the role. He’d even married the princess, and what a disaster that had turned out to be. He couldn’t blame Lucinda for that even though she had happily promoted his

and Jessie’s marriage. It was his own blind ambition that had led him willingly to the altar.

Lucinda patted his arm as she passed, and he watched her, too, as she left the room, noting the care with which she took each step. She was either in pain or far weaker than she wanted anyone to guess. Because she wouldn’t want anyone to fuss over her, he let her go without comment.

He sighed, the sound soft in the quiet of the room. Once this room had been his own domain, and bore the uncompromising signs of purely masculine use. Not much had been changed other than the addition of the computers and fax, because Davencourt wasn’t a house given to swift or dramatic changes. It aged subtly, with small and gradual differences. This room, however, now seemed softer, more feminine. The curtains were different, lighter in color, but it was more than that. The very scent of the room had changed, as if it had absorbed the inherent sweetness of female flesh, the perfumes and lotions Lucinda and Roanna had used. He could detect very plainly Lucinda’s Chanel; it was all she had worn in his entire memory. Roanna’s scent was lighter, sweeter, and was strongest when he was sitting at the desk.

The faint perfume lured him. He resumed his seat at the desk and shuffled through some papers but after a few minutes gave up the pretense and instead leaned back, frowning as his thoughts settled on Roanna.

She had never pulled away from him before. He couldn’t get that out of his mind. It disturbed him deep inside, as if he’d lost something precious. He’d sworn he wouldn’t take advantage of her; hell, he’d even felt a bit noble about it, because he’d been denying himself something he really wanted: her. But she was so damn remote, as if that night in Nogales had never happened, as if she hadn’t spent her childhood years tagging along at his heels and beaming worshipfully up at him.

She was so self-contained, so closed in on herself. He kept looking at her with a grin, expecting her to grin back in one

of those moments of humor they had always shared, but her smooth, still face remained as solemn as always, as if she had no more laughter in her.

His thoughts moved back to their lovemaking. He wanted to see Roanna smile again, but even more than that, he wanted to know if his baby was inside her. As soon as he could manage it, he was going to have a private conversation with her-something that might prove to be more difficult than he’d ever imagined, given the way she’d begun avoiding him.

The next afternoon, Roanna sighed as she leaned back in the big leather chair, massaging her neck to relieve the stiffness. A neat stack of addressed invitations was on one corner of the desk, but a glance at the guest list told her that there was at least a third of the envelopes still to be addressed.

Once Lucinda had gotten Webb’s okay for the party, she had begun making her battle plans. Everyone who was anyone had to be invited, which put the guest list at a staggering five hundred people. A crowd that size simply wouldn’t fit into the house, not even a house as large as Davencourt, unless they wanted to open up the bedrooms. Lucinda had been unfazed; they would simply throw open the French doors onto the patio, string lights in the trees and shrubbery, and let people wander in and out as they chose. The patio was better for dancing anyway.

Roanna had begun work immediately. There was no way Tansy could handle preparing food for that many people, so she had set herself to locating a caterer who could handle that size party on such short notice, because the date Lucinda had selected was less than two weeks away. She had chosen that date intentionally, not wanting to give people time to deliberate too much, but time enough to buy new dresses and schedule appointments with hairdressers. The few caterers in the Shoals area were already booked for that date, so Roanna had been forced to hire a firm from