How is it we grow up and think we know everything about our loved ones, and then are shocked to discover they have secrets? Just like the rest of us. I used to think life would be easier if families came complete with how-to manuals. But I suppose that would spoil the fun. Besides, no way would I want every detail in mine! I guess we learn things when we’re meant to, when we can put them to use. Or not.

Chapter 19

Millicent stepped out into the foyer as Tanzy watched Riley limp up the stairs.

Millicent lifted her monocle and followed Tanzy’s gaze. “He does fill out a towel quite nicely, doesn’t he, dear?”

When Tanzy’s eyebrows rose, Millicent merely sniffed. “The casing might be a bit worn out, but the engine still hums along just fine.”

Tanzy decided this fell into the TMI category. Too Much Information. Certainly it produced a visual she could have done without. “Let me run some ice up to him and I’ll fix us some tea. You can just make yourself comfortable in the—”

“Nonsense,” Millicent interrupted. “I can certainly get a pot of tea going while you take care of your man.”

Tanzy paused. “He’s not my man.”

Millicent smiled indulgently. “Whatever you say, dear.”

Tanzy planted her hands on her hips. “I would think you of all people would find being patronizing most unbecoming behavior.”

“So is fooling yourself and hiding behind old truths.”

Tanzy’s hands fell to her sides at the same time her mouth dropped open. “Old truths?”

Millicent gently took her arm and turned her toward the kitchen. “We can discuss this after you’ve tended to—”

“Riley,” Tanzy interjected stubbornly.

“Yes, dear.”

She scowled but didn’t bother continuing the conversation. She took the stairs two at a time with the ice, expecting Riley to be sleeping with his leg propped up. Instead she found him on the second floor, in her office. At her computer. She cleared her throat from the doorway.

He didn’t jump, nor did he turn around. “Hope you don’t mind. I needed to check on something.”

She wanted to be at least a little miffed at the invasion of her most personal space. But he looked so damn good with his damp hair curling at his neck and her melon-colored bath towel barely hanging on around his waist, she found it hard to be surly. Horny, now that she could manage. With hardly any effort, as it turned out. She wondered absently how long that would last. His ability to run her pulse straight up by doing nothing more than, well, breathing.

“You’ve been snooping around in my computer for weeks now, why should I mind?” She moved into the room, shifting the bag of ice as the chill began to sting her palm. “At least now you can take the direct route. I brought your ice.”

“Thanks.”

The fact that he hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction did manage to miff her, however. Men might have to compete for her attention when it came to her and her computer, but she’d be damned if she’d have to compete with it. She smiled as she walked up behind him, bent down, and pressed a warm kiss at the base of his neck.

“Mmmm,” he murmured. “Nice.”

“Uh-huh.” Then she planted the ice pack where her lips had just been, making him yelp and jump.

“What was that for?” he said, grabbing the ice bag.

She smiled sweetly. “You’re looking at me now, so it worked, didn’t it?”

He gave her a calm, steady look. “Must you always be the center of attention?”

She rolled his chair out and spun him slowly so he faced her, then very gently placed the ice on his knee. “Just with you.”

He hissed at the contact, but clamped his hand on hers to keep her from taking it away again. “It takes a moment or two to get used to it.”

She slid her hand free, all desire to tease him gone. “Is it really bad? You should have said something. We really didn’t need to—”

He looked up at her. “Yes, we needed to. And we just might need to again. Later.”

Now she found a smile. “I think we can be inventive enough to spare the knee, but not . . . well, anything else. Don’t you?”

His lips quirked and he reached out and snagged her, pulling her across his lap before she could dodge him.

“Your knee!”

“Is numb. Now hush.” He made sure she did by planting his mouth on hers. He was grinning when he lifted his head.

“What?” she asked warily.

“I think I like having you fuss over me.”

“I don’t fuss.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You do. And you’re damn cute at it, too.”

She merely rolled her eyes. But at the same time felt inordinately pleased by the compliment. Not that she was about to let him know.

He stroked her face, her hair, the teasing light leaving his eyes. “We need to talk. When Millicent is gone.”

She frowned. “Has something happened? Did Ernie email the list from the charity ball?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t cross-checked it yet.”

She felt her skin go clammy. “He sent another email, didn’t he?” She couldn’t help it, she shuddered.

He tugged her closer, smoothed his hands down her arms. “Not exactly. But there has been contact.”

“What? How?”

He sighed. “I’m working on it. You go visit with your aunt. But if the phone rings, or anyone comes to the door, I don’t care who it is, just let me handle it. Promise me.” She must have looked as spooked as she felt, because he leaned closer and kissed her. This time it was gentle and reassuring. And still made her pulse race. “You really have to start taking this more seriously, okay?”

“I am,” she insisted, but at his look, she sighed and said, “Okay. I promise. And I’m sorry. About opening the door, about worrying you. It’s just—” She paused, looked down at where his hand was stroking along her arm, and covered his hand with hers. “It’s going to take some getting used to. Having someone else worrying about me.” She smiled a little. “Fussing over me.”

He touched her chin so she looked at him. “Get used to it. And I promise to do the same. Deal?”

She smiled, ridiculously pleased at his proprietary tone. She could lie and say it was just because there was a threat against her, someone stalking her, and it felt good to have a big, strong body by her side.

But it was more than that. And for the first time she realized she was afraid. Not of SoulM8, but of what would happen once there was no longer a threat. Would Riley stick around then, or would they drift apart when he inevitably moved on to another job? One that might consume as much of his time as this one had. She wished there was a guarantee, some absolute thing she could do to ensure that this wouldn’t end until she was ready for it to end.

Which made her sound rather cold and calculating, didn’t it? Had she always been so controlling? She didn’t think so. Mostly because she was never with anyone long enough to worry about it.

Riley blew next to her ear, startling her from her thoughts.

“I was just blowing the smoke away,” he explained, then tapped her forehead. “From all those gears grinding up there.” His smile faded. “I shouldn’t have said anything until Millicent was gone. Please, go have some tea, enjoy her company. I take it she doesn’t usually stop by.”

It was cowardly, but Tanzy took the out anyway. Besides, she wasn’t ready yet to lay her heart at his feet and risk having it trampled on. “No, no she doesn’t.”

“Christmas is around the corner, maybe she wants to make plans.”

“I didn’t even think she’d be here for Christmas, remember? Besides, we spend Thanksgiving together. That’s our holiday. She spends Christmas making the rounds. Friends, charities, a few parties. I usually do the same. Maybe I’ll ask her if I can help out this year, test the waters, so to speak.” She looked at him. “What about you? Will you and your dad get together? Do you have other family?”

He shook his head. “It’s just the two of us. Some years Finn and I get together, most years he’s out and about.”

Tanzy noted that it wasn’t the first time Riley was less than specific where his father was involved. She supposed that was one other thing they shared. Less than stellar relationships with their parents. She couldn’t even call hers a relationship. At least he had that.

She realized he was looking at her, his expression a bit . . . she couldn’t exactly say. “What?”

“I want to ask you something.”

“So, go ahead and ask.”

“It’s not that simple.” He heaved a sigh when she merely gave him a look. “Okay. Let me get the whole thing out before you answer, all right?”

Intrigued and a little bit nervous, though she couldn’t say exactly why, she nodded. “Promise.”

Now he gave her the look. “Just do your best.”

She jabbed him with her elbow, but they were both smiling. “Get on with it, already.”

“Seeing as we don’t have any plans for the holiday, barring whatever Millicent might have up her floral-print, lace-hankied sleeve—”

Tanzy snickered at the description, then shut her mouth tight when he sighed. “I can’t help it, you make me laugh,” she said, or muffled, through closed lips.

“The truly scary thing is, I think I understood that,” Riley said wryly. He shifted her on his lap and pulled her closer. “Okay, here it is: I’d like to spend Christmas with you. Not because of the threat out there, though I’ll admit I’ll feel better if I know where you are, that someone is keeping a close eye on you. Someone trained to keep a close eye.”

“I don’t know, Millicent is pretty formidable with nothing more than a monocle and cane.”

Riley looked at her.

“It wasn’t an answer,” Tanzy said in her defense, fighting back the laughter. “It was a defense of my poor great-aunt’s hand-to-hand combat skills.”

Riley fought to keep a straight face, but lost the battle.

Tanzy patted him on the back. “Was it the visual that put you over the edge?”

Riley just nodded, having to wipe his eyes. “And if you tell her I laughed, I’ll torture you.”

Tanzy wiggled her eyebrows. “Define torture.”

Riley kissed her. Suddenly, hard and fast. Then he framed her face in his hands. “The hell with it. I didn’t want you to feel obligated. Because of how we spent most of the past few hours. Or because I’m involved with this SoulM8 thing. Or even because I’ve bonded with your great-aunt over sports. And I don’t want you to assign some huge meaning to this because it’s the holiday, but—”

She couldn’t wait another second. She kissed him. Only it wasn’t hard and fast. It was slow, and gentle, and sweet. It was the kind of kiss she didn’t give. Ever. Because slow, sweet kisses led to things, led to expectations. But it was too late to worry about that. Because she had expectations already. And spending Christmas with him was just the beginning of them. And no matter what he said about not assigning special meaning to this, the look in his eyes said otherwise.

“That was a yes. In case you were wondering.” She laughed and allowed herself to soak up the moment. His eyes were shining, he was smiling, and she thought she might be falling in love. It was definitely a moment to remember. To tuck away for the future. When she might need it.

Refusing to allow any negative thoughts to creep in, she bussed him again, this time loudly and briefly. “Now I have to go downstairs to my great-aunt, aka Ol’ Eagle Eye, looking like a woman who has been thoroughly kissed and, what’s more, thoroughly enjoyed it.”

Riley helped her slide off his lap. “I’m pretty sure, given my state of undress when she arrived, that she’s figured out we’ve done a whole lot more than that.”

Now Tanzy flushed, even as she grinned. “True. And then there’s this silly grin I can’t seem to wipe off my face.”

Riley winked at her before turning back to the computer. “I know the feeling.”

Tanzy swore she floated down the stairs. Why had she resisted this falling in love business for so long? Had her mother’s foibles really jaded her so badly? Or was it her best friends’ less than perfect marriages? She wasn’t sure. And at the moment, she didn’t care.

Maybe it was simply because she hadn’t met Riley yet.

Which reminded her. She owed Millicent a hug for parking them both under the same roof. Tanzy hated to think it of herself, but it was probably true that had she not been forced to get to know him first, to live with him, deal with him, this never would have happened.

“In here, dear,” Millicent called from the front room.

Tanzy slowed down so she wouldn’t skip into the room, tried to tame her smile down to a reasonable glow.

“I wasn’t sure where to put the tray. I hope you don’t mind, I rearranged a few things on the coffee table.”

“Not a problem,” she said, entering the room to find Millicent staring at one of the employee-list pages J.B. had delivered.

Millicent didn’t bother to look up, much less look remotely abashed for her snooping. “I take it these are the employment lists from the Internet provider you use?”

“Yes. All women, as you can see. Not as helpful as we’d hoped. We’re going to cross-check them with the lists from the Crystal Ball anyway, see what we come up with.”

Millicent lowered her monocle and slid the paper back with the rest of the stack. She started pouring the tea. “You haven’t decorated for the holidays,” she said, as if they hadn’t just been discussing a stalker.

“Haven’t had time,” Tanzy lied. She wasn’t much for holiday decorating, Christmas or otherwise. “You really outdid yourself this year, though.”

“Thank you, dear,” Millicent said, not distracted for one minute. “You know, a tree would look lovely in that corner right there. Perhaps when Riley’s knee is better, you two should head out and get one.”

“Great idea.” Tanzy silently groaned, but reminded herself that Millicent rarely visited, so she’d never know if they followed through or not. She didn’t bother telling her she had no ornaments to put on the thing even if they did get one. “So, what brings you here today?”

But Millicent wasn’t ready to move on quite yet. “He’s quite an interesting young man, your Riley.”

Tanzy opened her mouth to automatically refute her implication, then closed it again.

“Well, well,” Millicent said, adding sugar to Tanzy’s cup before handing it to her. There was nary a wobble of china on china. Nor was there a wobble in Millicent’s unwavering stare. “I’m glad to see you kept your mother’s tea set,” she mentioned as Tanzy took her cup and saucer. “It was her mother’s, you know. Though I don’t imagine it gets much use by this generation, either.”

No point in lying her way out of this one. “Once or twice, when I’ve had guests, but mostly it just gives me a reason to keep that corner hutch in my kitchen.”

“Any word from Penelope of late?”

“No,” Tanzy said, taking a sip, wishing they were still talking about Christmas trees now. “I’m sure that’s for the best.”

Millicent sighed and stirred her own cup. “Yes, I imagine you’re right.”

That had Tanzy pausing midsip. “I always thought you hoped we’d mend fences. Or that I’d force more of a relationship between us.”

“Years ago, perhaps. You’ve never said what went on when the two of you got together all those summers ago, but I suppose I can fill in the blanks well enough. It’s why I’ve never brought it up since.” She gave her tea a final stir and leaned over to pat Tanzy’s knee. “Mostly I worried that you’d let her set a bad example for you. That her wanderlust and irresponsibility would keep you from finding your own happiness. And, until today, I believed she had.”

“It goes a lot deeper than wanderlust, Aunt Millicent.” Then the rest of what her great-aunt had said sunk in. “As for Riley, well, I won’t deny that I’ve developed . . . feelings for him.”

Millicent’s smile lit her entire face. “Yes, dear. It’s quite obvious. And wonderful, too. I didn’t think I’d ever see that particular light brighten your lovely face.”

Tanzy felt the slight sting at the backs of her eyes. Again with the tears! These wobbly emotions were sandbagging her out of nowhere. This part of falling in love she could do without, thanks. She went back to sipping her tea, but eventually she couldn’t hide behind her cup any longer. She started to speak, stopped, then finally sighed.

“What is it, dear?” Millicent lowered her cup as well.

“I’ve been perfectly happy alone, Aunt Millicent. I mean, yes, I’m enjoying Riley’s company. I might even . . . well, I might even feel more than joy. But I was okay before him. I’ll be okay after.” Even as she said it, she didn’t want to think about it. The after part. “I enjoy being with him, more than I ever thought possible. But I don’t need him to make me a whole, happy person. I figured you of all people would understand that and not worry about me. You’re whole, happy, fulfilled, and you’ve never married.”

Millicent surprised her by shaking her head. “That’s not true, I’m afraid.” Her smile faded on a wistful sigh and she absently stirred her tea. “I was married. Once. Far too briefly. Long before you were born.”

Tanzy couldn’t have been more floored. Her spoon clattered to her saucer.

Millicent looked fondly at her. “I guess it’s a day for shattering old beliefs, hmm?” She shook her head. “I suppose I never told you because it happened so long ago.” She lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. “Or perhaps I simply didn’t want to share what is still, surprisingly, a bittersweet memory.” She sighed, looked away, and Tanzy thought there might have been a shine of tears in her eyes. “He was the love of my life.”

“You don’t have to talk about it now.”

Millicent slid her lace hanky from her sleeve and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “No, it’s all right. I know it’s silly, but for all the years he’s been gone, it still feels like yesterday when I let myself think about it.” She sniffed, then smiled through watery eyes. “I sometimes have the fantastical notion that he’ll come walking through the front door, so proud and tall in his uniform, and inform me it was all a big mistake, he hadn’t been shot down after all.” She dabbed her eyes again, then sighed and looked back to Tanzy. “I’m sorry, I feel as if I’ve helped to steer you down this path, and it was never my intention. I suppose I should have realized—”

Tanzy leaned forward, covered her great-aunt’s hand with hers. “Please, don’t. We all make our own choices. And I respect yours. I’m glad you told me, because I love you and it makes me feel good, knowing you had something that powerful in your life. Thank you for sharing with me now.”

Millicent sniffed again, dabbed again. “Yes, well, perhaps we share things when it’s time to share them. And I agree with you, it’s good to be healthy and whole, to be your own person. I’m proud of you, of the life you’ve built for yourself.” Now she covered Tanzy’s hand with her own. “But, darling, sharing that life, the good moments and the bad, the triumphs and the defeats, with someone you love . . .” She trailed off with a little sigh. “Well, you said it. It’s quite powerful stuff. Magnifies the pleasures tenfold, and makes the lumps a bit easier to take.”

Tanzy sniffed a little herself, wishing things had been different for Millicent. “And all this time, you never remarried,” she murmured, then looked up. “But your last name—”

After a final dab, Millicent picked up her saucer again, composed once more. “In my heart, I’m still Mrs. Jack Bingham. But I reverted back to my maiden name after your grandfather died. I was the only one left to carry on the family foundations and such. And in those days, with the various laws and legalities, well, it was simply . . . easier.”

But Tanzy saw that it had been anything but. Forsaking the name of the man she’d loved. Still loved. “I’m sure he’d be proud of all you’ve done.”

Millicent smiled then, and her face glowed once again. “Thank you, dear. I’d like to think so. The odd thing is, I’d have likely walked away from it all, settled for some small house on a naval base somewhere, and raised a patch of babies, if he’d only come back to me.”

Tanzy smiled, then dared a little laugh. “No, you wouldn’t have. Even if Grandpapa had lived, he would have mismanaged things and that would have driven you crazy. You’d have been knee deep in the Harrington holdings long before he died, and you know it.”

Millicent smiled herself. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps.”

Since they’d come this far, Tanzy dared another question. “Do you regret not having children?”

Now her great-aunt’s smile was wide and instantaneous. “Why no, dear. I had you, didn’t I?”

Tanzy flushed instantly, with pleasure. “Why of course you did.” And she wondered if Millicent knew what a godsend she’d been to a child set adrift by her only parent, despite her grandniece’s outgoing personality. “But you only got me when I was home from boarding school.”

“And enjoyed every moment of it.”

Tanzy laughed again. “I seem to recall differently.”

“That’s the wonderful thing about memories, dear. You pick and choose the ones you want to keep.”

Tanzy uncurled her legs and stood, then leaned over and kissed Millicent’s feathery cheek. “Well, I have bunches of them,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I don’t tell you often enough, but I owe you a great deal. You kept me sane and made sure I was happy. I always knew I could count on you. It made the difference, you know. All the difference.” Now her eyes were watering up again.

Millicent sniffed as well. “Well,” she said, half smiling, half laughing. “Aren’t we a pair?”

“Yes,” Tanzy said with a broad grin, settling herself once again on the futon couch. “And a formidable one, at that. We’re Harringtons, after all. Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. About the charity ball—”

“I’m still so dreadfully sorry to have put you in the public eye like that, make you so obvious a target—”

Tanzy waved a hand. “Please, Aunt Millicent. He’d have found another way, so please don’t beat yourself up. What I wanted to talk about was, well, maybe I’d like to get involved. On a minor scale, that is. With the family foundations. If there is something I could do to help you. I . . . enjoyed handing out those scholarships, felt proud to be a part of it, and I guess a little bit like a fraud, seeing as I haven’t been directly involved.” She let out a short laugh. “Involved, period.”

Millicent’s face lit up. “I’d be delighted to have some assistance, but only if you feel you truly want to be involved. I’ve never pushed you and I never will. I’ve made sure, as I’ve gotten older, to put our many interests in as good hands as possible. You needn’t worry about them, you know. Naturally, you’ll be the one I leave it all to when I go, but you’ll have little to do if that’s how you choose to handle it. I know you have no need of the income, so I’ve had the bulk of it put directly back into the various foundations. You can change that, naturally. All I want is for a Harrington to maintain overall directorship.”

Tanzy didn’t know what to say. It was exactly what she’d wanted to hear, and settled a goodly amount of the concerns she’d managed to bury for lo these many years. “Thank you, Aunt Millicent,” she said, never more sincere. “I won’t let you down. And I would like to be more involved. Maybe not dive in headfirst, but rather wade in. Slowly,” she warned when her great-aunt’s eyes began to twinkle.

“Yes, dear,” was all Millicent said.

Tanzy swallowed hard, silently wondering just how many foundations she’d be running a year from now.

“I suppose we should discuss the reason I came here today,” Millicent said. “It’s about the baby shower for your friend Mariel.”

“If you’d really rather we don’t have it at the house, it’s not a problem.” Although, seeing as it was two days from now, well, she didn’t want to be the one to tell Sue.

Millicent waved a heavily ringed hand. “Nonsense. I’m more than happy to have them. It will do Big Harry good to have his walls ring with the laughter and joy surrounding the coming of a new life.”

Tanzy had been sighing in relief, so she almost choked on her tea at that last part.

“What,” Millicent said, lowering a look at Tanzy over the rim of her teacup. “Just because I didn’t have any of my own—”

“Not that,” Tanzy managed to choke out. “I—I wasn’t aware you knew—”

“Oh!” Millicent laughed. “That. Surely you didn’t think I was unaware of the moniker you bestowed on Harrington House.” Then she smiled somewhat slyly. “I’ve rather liked it, have privately thought of it that way for years.”

Well, well, Tanzy thought, it was a day for revelations indeed. “Thank you for letting us have the party there. Is there a problem, though?”

“Oh, not at all. I’ve been corresponding with Sue—”

“You have?”

“Oh yes. We’ve been faxing and scanning and emailing our little hearts out. She called one afternoon earlier this week, asking after you. I suppose she hadn’t gotten the word that you’d moved back home. We got to talking about her decoration scheme, which is really quite inspired, and I offered a few ideas of my own.”

“You did.”

“Oh my yes. We’ve been like two bees in a bonnet ever since. Buzzing, buzzing.”

Tanzy didn’t doubt it. Like Millicent, Sue also had MSS. Martha Stewart Syndrome.

“I hope you don’t mind. We’ve quite commandeered this entire party.”

Tanzy waved a hand. “Please, by all means, commandeer away.”

“Well, now that that’s all settled, I’d also hoped to borrow Riley for a spell. This time of year, it’s all but impossible to hire anyone at the last moment. Sue’s dear husband, Paul, is coming by a bit later to help as well. We need to move some furniture before the decorators come in to redo the room.”

Tanzy opened her mouth to ask why in the world she was having the entire room redone for a party that was only going to last several hours, but wisely stopped herself at the last second. “You’ll have to ask Riley. With his knee—”

“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten about that. You see, I’d planned to discuss it with him when I arrived, but he wasn’t in his vehicle, so I assumed he was in here with you and thought to take care of both little tasks at the same time.” She set her saucer down and stood, smoothing her skirt. “I’m really glad I did,” she said sincerely. “I’ve enjoyed our little talk immensely.”

Tanzy stood and stepped around the coffee table to give Millicent a hug. Her great-aunt felt both sturdy and frail, and Tanzy felt tears gather behind her eyes again at the thought that she really wouldn’t be here for her forever. She supposed she’d never quite believed it possible. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For sharing with me, for . . . well, for all of it.”

Millicent patted her back as they stepped apart. “Thank you, too,” she said, her eyes a bit overly bright as well. “For everything.” She sniffed and turned, walking to the hall and glancing up the stairs. “I don’t suppose he’s coming down anytime soon.”

Tanzy followed her out into the hall. “I can run up and get him. He might be asleep.” Or still at the computer, most likely. But she really didn’t want to take the conversation back in that direction.

“Don’t bother. Just have him ring me up when he can. If he’s up to it, we’d love to have another pair of strong hands.” She lifted her monocle and looked at Tanzy. “Though I suspect his powers of recovery will be swift.”

Tanzy blushed, but was glad to have Millicent ornery and at her most intimidating once again. “I’ll have him call you.”

“Wainwright is out front, so no need to see me out.”

But when Millicent turned for the front door, Tanzy put her hand on her great-aunt’s arm.

“Wait. Riley’s Rules, remember?” Tanzy sighed and raced up the stairs.

“Yes, dear,” Millicent said, looking up the stairs after her. “I was just wondering if you did.” With a satisfied little smile, she patiently waited for them to come back down.