With a groan, he dug his fingers into her clothing and hauled her up so he could taste her lips. The kiss became frenzied. Her lips parted eagerly to give him complete access. He plunged his tongue into her mouth and was soon drowning in the taste of her. His hands roamed up and down her back restlessly before gripping her shapely buttock to bring her up against his rigid arousal.
Passion poured through them like molten lava. Her hands gripped his broad shoulders as he started suggestively rotating his hips. He kissed her again and again, his mouth plundering hers. Nothing else mattered right now. Not the sound of Galahad barking or the fact that a light sprinkling of rain was falling from the sky. They were both lost in a flood of desire so strong, it threatened their very sanity.
Somehow, he found the strength to wrench his mouth from hers, his breathing harsh and labored.
Clamping his hands on her shoulders, fingers biting into her flesh, he held her away for a minute as he struggled to control his breathing.
"It's raining," he noticed in abrupt surprise. "You should go in before I forget the promise I made to you and take you right here. Go in, Catherine."
She hadn't meant for the kiss to get so out of control but should have expected it. She also knew they could not go on in this fashion. Whirling out of his arms, she raced towards the front porch with Galahad hot on her heels. The downpour came as soon as she slammed the door shut. But he stood there for a few more seconds, welcoming the water on his face and hoping to God it would somehow cool his ardor enough for him to sleep tonight. He strongly doubted it.
*****
They had lunch at the Tea Room. It was an elegant and exclusive eatery in the uptown area and was owned and operated by a former opera star. The meals were overpriced and far from the best, but the ambience was a thing of beauty. Not to mention the fact that people were there to be seen.
Telling herself she was not dazzled by the famous faces and the lush green scenery with the backdrop of stunningly beautifulflowers, Catherine gripped her oversized purse and wished she had worn something other than light blue cotton pants and a pink and blue linen shirt. But she had dressed with the class field trip in mind and thought they would be meeting at the manor.
Lifting her chin, she followed the maître d' down a winding path, past several elegantly outfitted tables to where Isobel and Irene were seated beneath a striped canopy facing an exquisite fountain.
"Charles, we'll have the sparkling elderflower lemonade with the lobster bisque," Isobel told the man in her sultry voice. The woman was dressed from head to toe in a stunning sarong type silk wrap that left her right shoulder bare. Sapphires glittered at her throat and lobes and sparkled on her fingers. Her blonde hair was in an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck. Next to her, Irene looked like a tulip growing beside a hothouse rose.
"My dear, I hope you like seafood."
"I do, normally, but I'm going back to work." Catherine smiled at the man who was waiting to take their orders. "I'll have the grilled chicken sandwich. Thank you."
She was so busy seating herself when her chair was pulled out that she failed to notice the glimmer of displeasure on Isobel's face at her spurt of independence. Irene was gratified by it andhappy to see that the woman her brother was about to marry was not a pushover. Good, she thought maliciously. They had arrived ahead of time because her mother liked to take charge of the situation and have the upper hand. She had spent ten minutes having to listen to how foolish her decision was to leave a good man like Charles.
"In case you don't realize it, you're not getting any younger. And what nonsense is this about you wanting to work at the company? Your father and I are very displeased."
It had taken all of her will not to just get up and walk away. So it was gratifying to see someone standing up to her mother.
"Let's discuss the wedding," Isobel began briskly. Reaching into her beaded purse, she drew out her iPod and turned it on. "My son told us that you want to be married at your church." She glanced up at Catherine in the middle of checking her notes. "You do realize you're marrying a Collier and what that entails, don't you?"
Taking a sip of her sparkling water, Catherine eyed the woman squarely. "I've been a member of that church for years. It's a familiar place and the people there are like family. As you know, I don't have a biological family, so they're it. I already explained that to your son and he's in complete agreement. As the bride, it's my choice as to the location, and it remains. Now, shall we move on?"
Isobel bristled at the tone and the words, skin flushing slightly. "My dear, if this is your attitude-"
"No-" Catherine held up a hand. "I don't have an attitude. Dean suggested we elope, just go to Vegas to avoid all of the drama, and I talked him out of it because I wanted to involve his family and my church family. But that can easily be remedied." Her steely expression warned the woman not to push her.
After a few minutes of charged silence, during which their meals were served, Isobel reluctantly backed down.
Chapter 7
She waited to call an Uber. For the first time since the accident, her serenity was shaken and she found that she could really hate someone. Isobel Collier was the coldest and most hateful person she had ever had the misfortune to encounter. And this was the woman who was going to be her mother-in-law. It gave her pause and made her wonder if this was such a good idea after all.
Yes, she mused. She was in love with Dean and any woman who refused to acknowledge the fact that they were not just marrying the man but was in fact marrying the family as well was delusional. No matter that Dean did not regard them in the slightest, they were still his family. Standing beneath the shade of a blossoming oleander bush, she saw that Dean had left two messages already, and if she did not call him, he was going to assume the worst.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed the button and assumed a neutral tone, hoping he was fooled by it.
"I feel like I'm being stalked."
"Are you all right?" The anxiety in his tone had her heart settling.
"Why wouldn't I be? You were afraid that your mother and sister chewed me up and spit me out?"
"Mostly my mother. How was it?"
"Pleasant enough." She looked over at the elegant building and saw to her surprise that his sister was hurrying towards her. "I'm fine."