Читать книгу Eternal Vows - Rochelle Alers, Rochelle Alers - Страница 11

Chapter 3

“Move a little closer to the best man,” the diminutive photographer instructed Peyton. “I doubt if he will bite you,” he added with a Cheshire cat grin.

He’d taken frame after frame of the bride and groom posing in front of the fountain, under the pergola, the flowering archway, outside the garden gate, Gavin sitting on the stone bench with Celia, while she reclined against his shoulder. There were shots with Gavin and Nicholas, Celia and Peyton, and all four laughing, hugging and kissing. Peyton felt her knees buckle slightly when Nicholas brushed his mouth over hers. It’d only lasted seconds but for her it was long enough to savor the surprisingly gentle caress of his firm mouth.

Chuckling, Nicholas pressed his mouth to her ear. “He’s right. I don’t bite.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That photographer is a little pervert,” Peyton whispered between clenched teeth. “Didn’t you see him salivating on my chest every time he tried to get me into a pose?”

Nicholas’s arm tightened around her waist. He chanced a quick glance at her décolletage. The top of her tanned breasts were on sensual display each time she took a breath. “Do you want me to punch him out?”

“No! Please don’t.” Gavin and Celia, standing a short distance away turned and stared at Peyton with the sudden outburst. She couldn’t stop the wave of heat creeping from her chest to her face. Peyton didn’t know if Nicholas was serious or joking. However, she didn’t want him to become the knight in shining armor stepping in to defend her and ruin his sister’s special day with a physical confrontation.

Myron Essex frowned at Peyton. “Is something wrong, Ms. Blackstone?”

She lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry, Mr. Essex.”

Myron threw up both hands in a gesture of exasperation. “I cannot work like this if you don’t cooperate with me.”

Her jaw dropped. What was he talking about? Cooperate. She’d done everything he’d wanted her to do, and still it didn’t seem to be enough. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am cooperating but what is it exactly do you—”

“Enough with the melodrama, Essex,” Nicholas interrupted angrily. He wasn’t going to stand there and let the man insult Peyton. In fact, she had done everything he’d wanted her to do. “Let’s get this done so we can go and mingle with our guests.”

The harshness in his tone dared the photographer to challenge him. After all, he was paying the man top dollar for the wedding photos. He didn’t know if the little pervert, as Peyton referred to him, liked her and had a perverse way of showing it by being overly critical; he also had tired of the endless posing that had taken up more than an hour. Peyton had been nothing short of perfection—from the way she looked to being accomplished and adept when following the photographer’s directives.

Myron recoiled as if he’d been struck across the face, however he recovered quickly. “I need Ms. Blackstone to turn her left shoulder until she’s half facing you. And, Mr. Thomas, I need you to place your right hand on Ms. Blackstone’s left shoulder. I want both of you to look at each other. That’s it,” he said, his voice rising in excitement. Peering through the viewfinder of his camera, he got off five shots in rapid succession. “Nice. Now I need the entire wedding party to stand together. We’ll take this one in front of the waterfall. The ladies will stand next to each other with the men flanking them.”

Dappled sunlight filtered through a grove of flowering fruit trees, a slight breeze showering those in the garden with white and pink petals. Peyton raised her chin slightly as several landed on her hair and lashes; she smiled like a young child watching falling snow. Nicholas stared at her upturned face, the image caught by the camera lens. Celia resting her head on Gavin’s shoulder as he lowered his head to kiss her hair was captured in the same frame.

Myron lowered his camera and puffed out his chest. Even before seeing the digital image she knew the shots were exquisite. “I’m finished for now. I’ll take some more at the reception.”

Reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket, Nicholas took out his cell phone and tapped several buttons. “I need you to bring the car around to drive us over to the reception area.”

* * *

It was obvious Nicholas had pulled out all the stops to celebrate Celia’s impromptu marriage. The invited guests, seated or standing under white tents, were drinking or talking to one another as a DJ was busy spinning tunes. Several couples were already up on the portable dance floor showing off their fancy footwork. Solar lanterns and gardenia leaves floating in water-filled crystal bowls served as centerpieces for each table.

An outdoor kitchen had been set up on the south meadow with eight chefs preparing cook-to-order meals for nearly two hundred guests. The caterer, with a staff of fifty were kept busy filling water goblets, serving alcoholic libations, taking orders and setting out plates of salad and freshly baked artisan bread.

Nicholas glanced up at the waiter who paused in front of him with a bottle of Perrier in one hand and white wine in the other. “I’ll just have the water.”

The white-jacketed waiter filled the goblet with sparkling water. “Would you prefer red wine?”

“No, thank you. The water is fine.” He noticed Peyton giving him a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”

She blinked. “Are you abstaining tonight?”

Leaning to his right, his shoulder touched hers. “I’m waiting for the champagne toast. Remember we have the open house at your farm tomorrow night and Harridans on Saturday night. You’ve never been to a horse farm open house?” he asked when she gave him a blank stare.

Peyton shook her head. “No. This will be my first year. I’ve spent the last eleven years of my life in school. And that includes college and veterinary school, including an internship and another three years of residency training. As a kid I would always spend the month of August down here, and cry my eyes out when I had to go back home.”

“Had you always wanted to become a vet?” Nicholas asked.

Staring up at him through her lashes, Peyton’s lips parted in a smile. “Always and forever,” she crooned. “I knew I had to study very hard and that meant missing high-school dances and football games.”

His gaze lingered on her mouth. “So, you were one of the smart kids.” The query was a statement.

Throwing back her head, Peyton laughed softly. “I was the personification of a geek.”

“No way,” he countered.

“Yes way. And it paid off.”

Nicholas paused. “There’s nothing better than realizing your dream.”

Peyton heard the wistfulness in his voice. “Have you realized yours, Nicholas?”

He cocked his head, seemingly deep in thought. “I have, but I had to take a circuitous route. Now, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked, deftly changing the topic.

Drawing in a deep breath, she told Nicholas about her attempts to secure a position as an equine veterinarian at several of the other horse farms but without success. “I’m even willing to volunteer my services.”

“Isn’t your farm large enough to support two resident vets?”

“You’re missing the point, Nicholas. When someone mentions Blackstone Farms’ vet everyone knows they’re talking about Ryan. However, if I were to work for you Cole-Thom Farms would have its own Dr. Blackstone.”

Nicholas draped an arm over the back of Peyton’s chair. “I’d love to help you out, but I have a contract with Dr. Harry Richardson that doesn’t expire until next September. And I wouldn’t feel comfortable having you volunteer your services. That would be exploitation. But, if you can wait a year I’ll be more than willing to consider your offer.”

Peyton breathed out an inaudible sigh of relief. At least Nicholas hadn’t turned her down flat like some of the other owners. She didn’t want to believe it was because of professional jealousy, but competition and rivalries between horse farms was as epidemic as in other professional organized sports.

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Placing his hand over hers outstretched on the tablecloth, Nicholas gently squeezed her delicate fingers. “You’re welcome. Have you decided what you want to eat?” He’d noticed she hadn’t checked off any of her dining selections.

Peyton eased her hand from under Nicholas’s much larger one. She picked up the pencil beside her place setting. “I can’t decide between the prime rib and fish selections.”

Nicholas picked his own pencil. “Why don’t you go for the surf and turf?”

She studied the printed menu. The caterers had listed medallion filet mignon and prime rib for beef selections and broiled salmon, Maryland-style crab cakes and pan-fried sole under fish. Chicken cordon bleu, broiled Cornish hens and herb-encrusted roast chicken were available for those who preferred poultry. While they’d posed for photos the guests were served hot and cold hors d’oeuvres along with specially mixed exotic drinks with and without alcohol. The grits, eggs and fish she’d eaten earlier that morning had managed to sustain Peyton throughout the morning and afternoon, but now she was ready to eat again.

“I think I’m going to have the prime rib and crab cakes,” she said.

Nicholas checked off his choices. “I’m going totally fish tonight. Salmon and sole.”

“After this weekend I know I’m going to have to either fast or detox,” Peyton said. The Blackstones had decided on a cookout theme for their open-house celebration, and she hadn’t heard what the Harridans were planning.

Nicholas had to agree with Peyton. Although he hadn’t officially announced that Cole-Thom Farms was hosting an open house, inviting two neighboring farms to Celia’s wedding reception had become a fitting substitute. He was more than aware of the lingering resentment among several of the owners with farms with racing and horse-breeding histories going back more than eighty years. He was viewed as the new kid on the block who purportedly had enough money to not take on investors.

With the exception of Sheldon Blackstone, none of them knew much about him. Once he’d taken possession of the deeded land and begun the task of restoring the house that would become his permanent home, Sheldon had come and offered to help him in every way he could to make the transition smooth and easier than it had been for him more than forty years ago.

Sheldon had become Nicholas’s surrogate father, mentor and a relentless tutor when Nicholas found himself tested over and over as to different breeds and the finite mechanics that went into horse racing. Peyton claimed she studied hard to become a veterinarian and he’d studied equally hard to become a horse breeder.

Dusk had descended on the farm and light from strategically placed lampposts had come on, illuminating the landscape and turning it into an emerald forest. Strings of lights entwined in tree branches twinkled like stars in the encroaching darkness.

All of the horses were stabled before the first guests had arrived and the farm’s security staff circulated inconspicuously among the assembly. Stringent precautions were taken to protect and secure millions in horseflesh whenever visitors were present. Closed-circuit TVs were viewed by the person manning the gatehouse and inconspicuously placed cameras monitored activity throughout the four-hundred-plus acres. There was another hundred acres of vacant land bordering the west end of the property Nicholas wanted to purchase not because he wanted to expand the farm but for better security. Signs were posted around the perimeter stating: Trespassers Will Be Shot on Sight and if Still Alive, Then Prosecuted. He’d increased security when there were rumors that someone had planned to steal a prized Arabian stallion he’d purchased for breeding.

A waitress picked up the dining requests from those at the bridal table as the maître d’ urged those standing around to take their seats because the waiters would begin serving dinner. Leaning forward in his chair, Nicholas noticed that Celia was resting her head on Gavin’s shoulder, and he wondered if she was overwhelmed with all of the festivities or she wasn’t feeling well. It’d only been a year since she’d hovered between life and death; she’d lost nearly one-fourth her body’s blood supply after being shot with a powerful handgun that could’ve ended her life if it’d struck a vital organ. She was luckier than many gunshot victims because she was in a hospital where immediate care was readily available.

Pushing back his chair, he stood and came around behind her. “Are you okay, Cee Cee?”

Celia gave him a slow smile. “It’s all coming down on me now that I’m a married woman.”

He dropped a kiss on her hair as he met Gavin’s eyes. He knew his brother-in-law would take care of his sister. Nicholas had always been overly protective of his sister even though she was older. It was something that had been drilled into him as a young boy. Cole men always protect their women. He and Diego didn’t have to worry about protecting Celia any longer because Gavin was more than qualified to do that.

Returning to his seat, Nicholas shared a smile with Peyton. Overhead light glinted off the diamonds in the bracelet circling her left wrist. “Nice bracelet,” he said softly.

Peyton held out her hand. “It was a gift.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Someone must really like you.”

“You’re right,” she confirmed. If Celia hadn’t told Nicholas she’d bought the bracelet, then neither would she. She studied his lean dark face, unaware that she’d been holding her breath. The stubble from this morning was missing and he’d had a haircut. He was so handsome that Peyton believed she’d conjured him up, and she wondered how he had managed to escape the clutches of some marriage-minded woman whose goal was to become Mrs. Nicholas Cole-Thomas.

Even if Nicholas had shown a romantic interest in her Peyton knew unequivocally she wasn’t emotionally ready to become involved in a relationship. Her feelings for Nicholas vacillated like the rise and fall of the tide, and it was apparent her personal maturity hadn’t kept pace with her professional maturation. And if she were to thank him for anything it would be his detachment. It saved her from making the same mistake twice.

The mood of the music changed from upbeat to instrumentals of classic pop songs as waiters, hoisting trays on one shoulder began placing orders down on the many tables. Nicholas touched his glass of water to Peyton’s, and she repeated the gesture with Celia who in turned touched her glass to Gavin’s. Wine flowed liberally as the mouthwatering aroma of food filled the air, the mood becoming more and more festive. The videographer circulated, capturing smiles, animated gestures and the overriding sound of laughter.

Nicholas did not want to think of his mild-mannered father’s reaction once Celia revealed she’d married a man she’d known a month. Celia wanted to keep her marriage a secret from the family and Gavin was also keeping a secret from his wife. Secrets that could backfire and shatter the newlywed’s trust and eventually destroy their marriage.

The volume on the music was lowered again, this time when he stood up to toast the newlyweds. Raising a flute filled with champagne, Nicholas smiled at Celia before nodding to Gavin. “I’d like to wish my favorite sister—”

“I’m his only sister,” Celia interrupted, smiling. Her statement was followed by laughter and applause.

A single dimple creased Nicholas’s left cheek. “My favorite and only sister,” he corrected, bowing slightly at the waist. “I love you and wish you more happiness than you could’ve ever imagined. Gavin, I know you love my sister and that you will protect her with your life. Brother. Welcome to the family.” Gavin raised his glass in acknowledgment. Cupping Peyton’s elbow, he helped her rise. “It’s time for you to say something.”

Peyton’s heart drummed a runaway rhythm against her ribs. She’d known Celia all of four days and she hadn’t planned on making a toast. She searched her memory for a sonnet or bible verse pertaining to love.

There came a strange and silent hush as hundreds of eyes were fixed on her. Smiling, she lifted her flute. “I raise my glass to toast a beautiful pair on the birthday of your love affair. To Gavin and Celia. May you be lovers the rest of your lives.” Shouts of congratulations and whistling followed her toast. Peyton permitted Nicholas to help her sit down, taking furtive sips of the dry wine.

“I had no idea you were a romantic,” he said in her ear.

She rolled her eyes at him. “That’s because you don’t know me.”

Nicholas leaned closer. “You’re right. I don’t know you.” He stared at her under lowered lids. “If you plan to work for me maybe we should get to know each other.”

“A lot of things could change in a year, Nicholas.”

He lifted his shoulders. “True. But the fact that you’re a licensed veterinarian isn’t going to change.”

Peyton bit her lower lip to keep from blurting out that she could possibly secure a position elsewhere. Virginia wasn’t the only state with horse farms. She’d give herself another six months before sending out her resume to racetracks across the country.

The DJ’s voice came through the speakers set up around the tent. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a special request from the groom for the couple’s first dance as husband and wife.”

The Foreigner classic “I Want To Know What Love Is,” filled the tent as Gavin led Celia out onto the dance floor. Peyton felt her eyes filling with tears when she listened to the poignant lyrics. She was saved from embarrassing herself when Nicholas gently pulled her to stand. One moment she was standing and the next she found herself in his arms, her breasts molded to his chest. The strength of his embrace, the warmth of his body and the lingering scent of his cologne swept over her, and she went completely pliant in his arms.

Peyton felt calm, astonished at the sense of serenity that made her recognize what she didn’t need. She didn’t need romance at this time in her life the same way she hadn’t needed it when she met Reginald. Marrying him had almost derailed her studies. She’d been back in the States four months when they met at a social mixer; he appeared to be everything she wanted in a man. She was unaware he was a predator and she a consenting and willing prey.

Reginald had accused her of being a girl in a woman’s body and she refused to give him the satisfaction of telling him he was right. He’d sensed her naïveté and like a piranha went in for the kill. Fortunately she’d escaped being devoured. She was left with invisible scars that had healed and were slowly fading, although there were times when Peyton wondered if her marriage to Reginald had ruined her for other men.

Peyton’s reverie ended when she found herself in Gavin’s arms. Tilting her head, she smiled up at the powerfully built man with large dark eyes and strong masculine features. “How does it feel to be married?”

Gavin twirled her around. “Wonderful. I’d confessed to Celia that I loved her but those words sounded so empty until I vowed to give her all that I am today and forever. And I like what you said about us being lovers for the rest of our lives. Too many times couples stop being friends and lovers once they’re married. I pray that will never happen with me and Celia.”

“Marriage is like a job or career. You have to work at it every day to make it better than the day before.”

“Are you speaking from experience, Peyton?” Gavin asked.

Smiling, she shook her head. Her marriage had been the exception rather than the norm. “No. Those are my mother’s words.”

“She sounds like a wise woman.”

Peyton didn’t want to refute Gavin’s assessment of her mother. Wherein Lena Blackstone had excelled as a mother she’d failed miserably as a wife, because she’d become a throwback to an era when women took the vow to obey their husbands literally. Lena’s stance on this issue had been a source of contention between Peyton and her mother for years. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her father, but Alphonso Blackstone’s need to dominate his wife and his employees had been the reason for her living in Virginia rather than return to her home state.

“She is a wonderful mother,” she said instead.

Nicholas winked at Celia. He’d cut in on his brother-in-law because it gave him an excuse not to dwell on how good it felt to hold Peyton in his arms. And after so many hours he still hadn’t recovered from her shocking transformation from the ingenue with a ponytail, jeans and flats to the startling sophisticate that left him with his mouth gaping. He also hadn’t missed the lustful stares from men when she’d walked down the carpet; he also understood why the photographer had given her a hard time. Myron Essex had reverted to an adolescent boy who liked a girl but didn’t know how to show it, so he either teased or harassed her.

Nicholas had left adolescence behind years ago, yet he hadn’t felt the need to tease or harass her. He’d found it easier to simply ignore her, convincing himself that she wasn’t there when everything about her was imprinted in his memory like a permanent tattoo. There had only been one other woman who’d affected him the way Peyton had within minutes of their meeting, and he’d known beyond the shadow of a doubt she would become his wife and the mother of their children. After an intense courtship and a proposal of marriage, his world fell apart. Not only had the woman he’d loved selfishly walked away from him, but he was forced to walk away from a career he’d wanted for what seemed like forever.

“How can I thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Nicky?” Celia asked, breaking into his thoughts.

“Promise me I’ll be godfather to your firstborn. Jacob Jones trumped me when Diego picked him to be Samuel’s godfather.”

“I promise. But I’m going to tell you right now that I’m going to ask Peyton if she’ll be godmother. Aside from Hannah and a college friend, I really don’t have any other close girlfriends, and even though we just met I feel Peyton’s the sister I’ve always wanted.”

Nicholas’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “She is rather remarkable.”

“Oh, so you noticed?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Cee Cee?”

Celia leaned in close to her brother, her mouth pressed to his ear. “She’s perfect for you. And what is the expression? If you’re slow you’ll blow. Every single man and probably a few married ones would like to exchange places with you tonight. She’s not only smart, but also pretty. You’ve dealt with a few losers in the past. Especially Arden. So, please don’t let Peyton get away.”

Nicholas clenched his teeth, the muscles in his jaw twitching noticeably. His sister didn’t know what she was talking about. “There’s nothing going on between me and Peyton.”

“Maybe there should be,” Celia countered.

His eyes narrowed. “What’s up with the matchmaking?”

Celia closed her eyes for several seconds. “This is one of the happiest days of my life and I want the same for you. You have an incredibly beautiful twelve-room house that’s more of a museum than a home. You own hundreds of acres of land where you breed horses when you should be breeding babies of your own,” she continued passionately. “Even if you don’t hook up with Peyton I want you to promise me that you’re going to stop this self-exile and start dating again. Not every woman you’ll meet will be like Arden.”

Nicholas spun his sister around in an intricate dance step. “I’ll promise only if you quit nagging me. You’re beginning to sound like our mother.”

Celia sobered. “Speaking of our mother. Don’t mention anything about me marrying until I get to tell her in person.”

“When is that going to happen?”

“Once the trial is over I’ll tell everyone.” As the state’s only surviving witness Celia had sought refuge in her vacation home in the Great Smoky Mountains to await the trial that would finally close the chapter on the E.R. massacre.

“You know all hell is going to break loose when you tell Dad. He’s been waiting years to walk his only daughter down the aisle.”

Her dimples winked at Nicholas when she smiled. “He will still have that honor when Gavin and I repeat our vows in West Palm this coming New Year’s Eve. And once we make Mama a grandmother again she’ll calm down.”

Dipping his head, he kissed his sister’s cheek. “Let’s hope you’re right.” The dance ended and he escorted Celia back to Gavin.

Nicholas scanned the crowd looking for Peyton, finding her surrounded by a group of men as if she were holding court. Some he recognized from Blackstone Farms, but there were a few he didn’t recognize. And from their expressions they were enthralled with her. He recalled what Celia had said about not letting her get away. He couldn’t stop her from getting away if he never had her.

And Nicholas was forced to ask himself if he did want Peyton, and the answer was as plain as the nose on his face. Yes, he did. What he had to figure out was for what. Did he want friendship or a relationship that was wholly physical in nature? He didn’t want more than that, because for him falling in love was not an option. Been there, done that and he wasn’t willing to travel that route again.