Luxury Model Wife Page 3

“Of course. Our business dealings, contracts, and discussions are private. I would never breach your trust.”

  She studied him a moment, as if deciding whether or not to believe him. The back of his neck prickled with the realization she might have serious trust issues—and maybe with good reason. He braced himself for her rebuff.

  She shifted in her chair, and when she leaned forward the slightest bit, Steve found himself leaning forward, too. His pulse kicked up a notch while he waited for her decision.

  Victoria spoke, though more softly than before. “I’m ready to rejoin the world, though I hardly know where my place is these days. I’d love to work here while I figure that out.”

  He didn’t know what he’d expected her to say, but her humility bowled him over. “You would?” Steve was so surprised he began to backpedal. “Jimmy will hate the idea.”

  Kill me, is more like it.

  But Victoria only smiled. “You offered a solution to both of our problems. With James gone, I need to get out of the house for something besides volunteer work and hair appointments. The change will do me good.”

  She reached again for her wine glass. “Forgive me for asking, but if we’re going to be working together, I’d like to know why you and Jimmy are estranged. He won’t discuss it. All I know is that you were friends once.”

  Steve winced. His falling out with Jimmy had been the result of the worst mistake of his life. He really didn’t want to talk about it, but withholding information about their relationship didn’t feel right, either. Victoria didn’t need to know the intimate details. That was personal and way too embarrassing.

  Better to clear the air with the bigger picture. “We grew up together, like brothers, all the way through college, then med school.”

  “You were in medical school?”

  He nodded and then blew out a long breath for courage. “If we’re going to exhume my past we should at least have a second glass of wine.” He waited while she watched him—weighing, deciding. This woman was smart.

  “That sounds fair.” Her smile seemed more relaxed.

  He smiled back, went to the sideboard for the bottle, and topped off their glasses. He took another deep breath, let it out slowly then gulped a mouthful of wine, suddenly wishing for something stronger.

  What the hell. It happened a long time ago.

  “I blew my medical career when one too many parties caught up with me and I washed out of medical school. Jimmy tried to keep me straight, but the truth is…I wasn’t cut out to be a doctor. I realized that after my first year. My mom hoped I’d follow her footsteps and become a surgeon. Jimmy and I had planned to start a practice together. They were both furious when I walked away from medicine.”

  Steve took a sip of his wine and returned the glass to his desktop, shaking off memories of the self-hatred that followed. “Dad, on the other hand, understood. He has zero interest in medicine unless it relates to my mother. When I screwed up at the hospital, he asked me to join him in the antiques business. It took a stint in the military to decide whether to accept his partnership.”

  He gestured outside the door. “Since my temperament is better suited to antiques history than surgery, I agreed. Joining Carlson’s is the best decision I ever made.”

  Victoria shook her head. “But why is there bad blood between you and Jimmy?”

  “The usual reason.” Steve picked up a pen, rolled it between his fingers, and tapped the desk. “A woman.” He looked up with a shrug of apology.

  Victoria smirked and crossed her slim legs at the knees. He followed the curve of her calf and the shape of her ankle as she changed position in the chair. “Knowing Jimmy, that sounds about right.”

  A knock then an oval face and the tips of four fingers peeked around the door’s oak moldings. “Yoo-hoo, anybody home?”

  “C’mon in, Beverly.”

  Beverly Orange stepped inside Steve’s office with yards of filmy Indian gauze fluttering around her feet.

  Steve made the introductions and the women exchanged greetings. The restoration expert remained firmly planted in 1968 despite the new millennium—and Steve wouldn’t change a thing about her if he could. “I was hoping you’d stop by to meet Victoria.”

  Beverly was a woman in constant motion, without pretense or guile. Her feet shuffled, even when she visibly tried to keep still, which was one of the innocent quirks Steve liked about her.

  “I’m heading out to pick up some lunch. Would you like something?” Her gray eyes sparkled as they met Victoria’s.

  “Thanks, but I’m about ready to leave,” Victoria replied. She set her half-finished glass of wine back on the desk.

  Steve placed his sandwich order and handed Beverly cash before she headed out the door.

  “She seems nice,” Victoria said.

  Steve nodded. “She’s also one of the best-known, most well-respected restoration experts in her field. I’m damned lucky to have her. But she already knows that,” he added with a chuckle. “This business couldn’t function without her, and I know she’s had offers from every competitor in the tristate area, including the Historical Society and a couple of museums.”

  “I’ll treat her with kid gloves,” Victoria replied.

  “No need. Bev’s a trouper. Her passions are jewelry, knickknacks, and dolls. The more she collects, the happier she seems. The only reasons I’ve managed to keep her is because I have the best merchandise on the eastern seaboard and I spoil her rotten. Besides worshiping the ground she walks on, that is.”

  Steve grunted in amusement with the admission. “Her expertise keeps me in business, so I have to love her. Good thing she likes me back. Fortunately, her husband doesn’t mind.” He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

  *****

  Victoria liked that Steve spoke with affection and respect for Beverly. Victoria sat forward in her chair, warming up to the conversation. She’d avoided men most of her life until James, but found herself drawn to Steve Carlson’s affability and blond good looks with mixed feelings of curiosity, attraction, and guilt.

  Her eyes roamed his features. Rugged but not craggy. Full, firm mouth over clean, straight teeth. Groomed hands. A man who took care of himself without seeming vain. She liked that, too.

  He met her eyes and his gaze was steady and self-assured. His confidence reminded her of…James.

  She felt instantly ashamed of letting her mind wander, and snapped her attention back to business. She was here for her husband’s sake, not to speculate about the man who’d become enemies with his son.

  “Let’s get back to med school and your falling out with Jimmy,” she said. “What happened with the woman you fought over?”

  Steve’s smile faded as he rolled his chair away from his desk and stood. The interview, apparently, was over. He stretched out his arms, groaned, and then dropped his hands to his sides. “I married her.”

  Chapter Three

  Victoria waited for Jimmy in the sanctuary on the rear lawn, hoping to ease her anxiety by surrounding herself with the rare birds that visited the tranquil space. She never knew what to expect from James’s son, since he could be alternately charming and friendly or stubborn and difficult. On this day, she hoped he’d be willing to listen to her plans for the Van Orr estate with an open mind.

  She leaned her head against the back of the wooden bench under an oak tree and closed her eyes to the late afternoon sun. The sanctuary was the one place in the world she could utterly relax and be herself. During her marriage, when she’d been merely tolerated by James’s peers, the birds and the animals that lived in the trees and shrubbery didn’t judge. The flowers around her home bloomed without condemnation.

  The sounds of blue jays feeding, the flutter of hummingbirds, and the tapping of redheaded woodpeckers lulled Victoria into a light doze. She recalled the days when James sat beside her to watch for rare species, signaling the sight of an elusive visitor. After it flew away, James would kiss her, and they would move to the soft grass beneath the umb
rella of a weeping willow tree to make love.

  How many times had she cried out with pleasure in this exquisite garden James had built?

  Her husband had been a tender and considerate lover who’d never failed to please her. His masculine hands had a gentle touch and his kisses were soft, warm, and tentative. James approached lovemaking like a man at worship, with murmured endearments and total devotion. Her body was his temple and his love for her reverential. The safety and security he’d offered with his name and fortune included refuge and release in their marriage bed.

  The nagging question she’d repressed since her wedding day prickled her mind while she dozed, niggling and taunting as it always had, like a persistent mosquito on a sunny afternoon.

  Is finding pleasure the same as knowing satisfaction?

  She pushed the unwelcome thought away and shifted position on the bench. “James.” She whispered his name. In her half-sleep he lowered his mouth to hers, pulling her so close she could feel his heartbeat against her own breast. The fragrance of his spice and citrus cologne filled the air and she breathed deeply to capture the scent. James broke the kiss and ran his mouth along her jawline to the length of her neck.

  The unfulfilled desire that haunted her marriage had followed her into widowhood. She’d wanted James to take her hungrily, passionately, deliberately. To love her like a real woman and not as a fragile doll.

  She readjusted her posture on the bench and her breathing slowed, though the aroma in her dream state had changed. A bouquet of fine wine and the intoxicating smell of sweat and male heat teased her senses. Cornflower blue eyes flashed above her and blond hair glistened in the sunlight. Arms reached out to bring his mouth to hers for a deep, hungry kiss. Muscular arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace, crushing her to his chest.

  “Hurry,” she murmured. Inside her dream, Steve Carlson lowered his mouth to her breast.

  Victoria came awake with a start. Her heart pounded, rushing the sound of blood to her ears. The inside of her mouth had gone dry and she could barely swallow. She sat up on the bench, disoriented by the vivid daytime dream, and moved her hand from her breast to her skirt to smooth the fabric. She ran her tongue over her mouth to moisten her lips.

  A squirrel scampered up the tree to his nest, rustling branches as he went. A chipmunk stayed behind, scavenging birdseed on the ground near Victoria’s feet.

  Footfalls sounded behind her.

  “James?”

  The footsteps grew closer. “No, it’s me, Jimmy.”

  Of course. Victoria rubbed her temples to clear her head. She hoped Jimmy couldn’t read the guilt and confusion she felt at betraying James’s memory.

  Jimmy was taller and leaner than his father had been, with a strong, athletic body honed by years of golf and tennis. His hair was sandy brown, not yet salted with gray, and his penetrating dark eyes and serious brow were softened by his smile. The resemblance to his father was striking, making it painful sometimes to look at him. At other times, his presence kept her tethered to earth when she felt lost.

  “Sorry. I was half asleep. And had the most incredible dream.”

  She hoped her skin hadn’t flushed. The fantasy with Steve Carlson had seemed so real. Her breasts ached and she’d awakened with an insistent pulse between her thighs. Her hands trembled. She took a deep, calming breath, hoping Jimmy wouldn’t notice her agitation.

  “About Dad?”

  “I think about your father every day.” That was true enough.

  Fragments of the daydream drifted back to her, but she shook the vision away. That she would fantasize about another man—a married man like Steve Carlson, made her feel ashamed. James had been the perfect husband. He deserved her fidelity, even during sleep.

  Even after death?

  The question haunted her. A shiver peppered her skin with goose bumps despite the balmy summer air. She hugged her arms and pushed away the unsettling question as she rubbed her skin with her palms.

  “When I didn’t find you at the house, I figured you’d be out here. I know you and Dad spent a lot of time in the sanctuary.”

  Victoria nodded. “It was our special meeting place.”

  “Would you like to go inside? I’ll fix us a drink.”

  She stretched and smoothed her hair. “Sounds perfect.”

  Victoria strolled side by side with Jimmy along the footpath to the rear entrance of the Van Orr mansion in companionable silence. Purple, yellow, white, and blue perennials lined the walkway and bloomed in profusion below the opulent windows.

  Victoria frowned at the sight of the trampled flowerbeds outside her sitting room window. She spent a lot of time in the smaller, private space off the gym she’d created since James’s death. “I wonder what happened there.”

  Jimmy took a closer look. “Have you noticed anyone on the property that doesn’t belong?”

  Victoria shook her head. “I let the staff go months ago, so there’s rarely anyone else around. Crews come by to clean and take care of the lawn and gardens twice a month. Maybe one of them got careless.”

  Jimmy inspected the surrounding beds. “I don’t see more damage, but maybe we should call the police and file a report.”

  “About crushed flower beds? Do you think they’ll take that seriously? The alarm system is in perfect working order. If anyone tried to break in, I’d know.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  Victoria decided to give in. “I’ll stop by the station and make a report. Okay?”

  That seemed to mollify him.

  Inside her sitting room minutes later, Victoria sipped the vodka martini Jimmy handed her. From the opposite corner, her pet cockatiel, Pirate, watched from his four-foot-tall cage. He ruffled his feathers and then cleaned beneath his wing with his strong beak.

  Victoria kicked off her shoes and settled into the cushions of a chaise lounge. “I appreciate you coming by.” She knew it must be tough for Jimmy to visit the house he’d grown up in but didn’t inherit.

  “I’ve been busy with more than hospital rounds. I have an important announcement.” Jimmy grinned. “My business partners and I are breaking ground on our medical center next month.”

  Victoria raised her glass for a toast. “Congratulations. I know your practice will be a huge success.” She took a sip of her drink and added, “I’ll recruit you to the board of the women’s shelter at your grand opening. We could use a fresh perspective almost as much as your medical expertise. I’ll try not to keep you too busy with the shelter to have an actual life.”

  They both smiled, though Victoria was serious about bringing Jimmy on board. He would be a huge asset to the organization. He might resent her, and their relationship might never be more than obligatory, but he was smart enough to know an appointment like the one she offered would be a bonus to his community standing.

  She swept out an arm. “You’ll need furniture. Take a few choice pieces before I sell the rest. I don’t need all this, but fine antiques would look impressive in a suite of offices.”

  Jimmy nodded his thanks. “You may have something there.” He sipped his drink. “Have you arranged a date yet with Pinnacle for an estate auction? Or chosen a realtor to list the house?”

  Victoria hesitated, knowing that what she was about to say might sever the only family tie she had left, tentative as her relationship with Jimmy had been. She prayed he would understand and forgive her.

  “That brings me to a decision I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Jimmy froze, and his eyes narrowed at the word “decision.” She could almost see the hackles stand up on the back of his neck. He resented when she made choices without his input, though he had no problem making “choices” for her.

  Victoria straightened her shoulders. “Your father’s death has been hard on me. When James died, my life went into a tailspin. I’m not ready to deal with more changes. I’ve decided…” Jimmy’s jaw set on edge. “Not to sell the house just yet.”

  More to the point, she ha
d no idea where to go or what to do with the rest of her life. She thought she’d be married for decades, not a fistful of years.

  Jimmy visibly bristled.

  Victoria braced herself against the impending storm and soldiered on. “Selling it is more than I can handle. I plan to find a new place to live, but I want to stay here another year or so while I sell off the contents. I’ll pay the taxes and maintenance fees. None of the expenses will impact you.”

  Jimmy ignored her conciliatory tone and issued a sharp retort. “We met with the auction house. You agreed.”

  “No,” she countered. “You insisted we sell my house and its contents quickly, though I’ve told you repeatedly I’m not ready. I’d hoped you’d understand.”

  Jimmy might never understand the indelible marks left by homelessness and destitution. After her husband’s sudden death, her old fears and insecurities had come roaring back. It didn’t make a difference that she was no longer poor. It didn’t matter that she’d learned to be competent in all other areas of her life. At her core, she had safety issues that might never be resolved.

  Losing the only home she’d ever known was the one thing she couldn’t handle.

  She could see Jimmy’s jaw pulse from across the room. His gaze turned hard. “It’s ridiculous for one person to live here.”

  “Maybe, but I’m not ready to leave your father yet.”

  She didn’t tell him she was trapped—afraid to leave. The world outside these doors had never been kind to her. From the streets to the country club, she’d been reviled in equal measure. The only difference was the size of her bank account.

  “But he’s left us, dammit.” Jimmy roared. “He’s dead. Face facts.”

  Victoria raised herself straighter in her chair. “Don’t try again to force me to leave. I won’t do it. Sell your things any way you want. I’ll live in this house as long as I like and I’ll hire the sellers I choose to clear its contents.”

  She amended those last few words and braced herself for an onslaught. “Or whom your father would have chosen.”

  The effect was instantaneous. Jimmy charged across the room, stopping just short of Victoria’s chair, panting from the fury he seemed barely able to control. “You will not use Carlson’s.”