Anthia had no idea what woke her, but when she opened her eyes, her cheek rested against the firm muscle of Dexter’s chest. Her thick lashes quickly lifted and she sat up, looking away from his dark gaze.
“Have a nice rest?” His deep somewhat husky voice caused her pulse to race and caused her to flush with embarrassment.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to use you as a pillow.”
“No problem,” he said, careful to hide his disappointment as she settled in her own seat once more. Yet again, he found it necessary to remind himself that platonic was the operative word where they were concerned. He might hate it, nonetheless, it made perfect sense considering how close their night together had come to destroying their friendship.
What the hell did it matter that he had never known such pure enjoyment and sheer pleasure with any other woman? Being with Anthia was magical. The nights since had been long and empty. The walls seemed to close in on him while he laid awake aching for her. Regardless, he would never again put them in such a compromising position. If there was a next time, he believed he would lose her for good. A risk he was not willing to take.
Dexter had waited a lifetime to find a woman like Anthia. She had a sincerity and warmth that no matter what happened seemed to keep right on giving. He didn’t have to be told how fortunate he was that she had not turned her back on him. He had been so lucky. Damn lucky.
Somehow he would get through this weekend without touching her. She deserved his respect and so much more. If only he were able to love her the way she was entitled to be loved. If only...
“We are approaching Houston from...” the pilot’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“I made a reservation at the Four Seasons,” he said after stowing their luggage in the trunk of the rental car. “Do you want to check in, get settled first before we drive out to the house and let them know we’ve arrived?” he asked as he held the door of the roomy Lincoln Town Car.
Anthia looked thoughtfully at him as he made himself comfortable behind the steering column, adjusting the seat to his satisfaction. She suddenly realized that her stomach was tight with nerves. She couldn’t help wondering what kind of sleeping arrangements he had made at the hotel.
She knew better than to think he planned for them to share a room. Just the possibility of them being together in the same room made her feel as if her heart had taken a giant leap. Why did she have to constantly remind herself that that first time had been a mistake?
She was here as a personal favor to him, moral support to ease his discomfort after such a lengthy estrangement with family. If only she could get her heart to go along with her head, then there would not be any embarrassing moments ahead for either of them.
“Well?” he asked, after starting the engine.
“Let’s go on ahead. Your family may be expecting us. We can always call the hotel and let them know we will be along later.”
“Okay.” He had no trouble following the interstate out to the plush Houston suburban of Sugarland. The Washingtons’ property was named Green Haven for its lush green grounds filled with large trees and sprawling lawn, and including a tennis court, pool and beautifully landscaped gardens. The house was set quite a distance from the road.
Anthia could not suppress a gasp as the large palatial three-story house came into view. “Goodness, it’s huge.”
“This is Texas, baby, everything is big,” he drawled, but he could not hide the bitterness. He was scowling as old hurts came rushing back as if it had all happened yesterday. He had left this place and his so-called family under painful circumstances.
Those memories could not be erased. Three years had passed since he had lived in Texas, eight since his release from prison. While on parole he had lived in town, rather than impose himself on the parent who had turned his back on him during his darkest hours.
Even though thirteen years had passed since that painful night Christine had died, it did not lessen Dexter’s sense of loss and betrayal. Both emotions lingered deep inside. He needed to remind himself that he was here for Stephanie’s sake. Stephanie’s happiness was all that matter.
“This is the home my father designed and built for my stepmother soon after they married. Impressive, isn’t it?”
“That’s a major understatement. Did you say your father designed it?”
“Yes. He’s an architect. We jointly own Washington Connection, the family-owned firm.”
“Jointly?”
“Yeah. We’re partners, at least we are on paper. I have not been an active part of the business since the trial.” The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable.
“I had no idea,” Anthia said softly, her hand rested momentarily on his thigh until she recognized the inappropriateness of the action, then jerked it away. “So when you said you lost everything, you meant everything including your career.”
“Yes, I was also an architect.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Dexter’s life here had been entirely different from the new one he had made for himself in Michigan. He had obviously been a wealthy man, with a loving wife and child on the way. That had all been shattered when the gun went off that fateful day, destroying all that he worked for... all that he loved. For he had not only lost his wife and their child, he had also lost his father’s love and support.
He had been left with no career, no family... nothing but a empty future filled with regret. How he had survived and came out on the other side of that dark, dark time in his life was nothing short of a miracle as far as Anthia was concerned.
“Anthia?” he said softly.
“I’m beginning to understand how difficult this weekend will be for you. No matter what anyone says, please don’t forget you have made a wonderful life for yourself. You’re liked and well respected.” She did not want him to be hurt yet again by these people.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, his throat clogged with emotions.
He had barely pulled the car to a stop in the wide circular drive when a young slender woman came running out of the house.
“Dexter...” she cried throwing herself into his arms. “You’re here... you’re really here.” Stephanie Washington laughed, giving him a loud playful smack on the cheek. She was a tall woman with pale brown coloring and short, curly dark brown hair cleverly cut into fluffy layers. Her features were classically beautiful and her eyes filled with joyful tears. There could be no doubt about the fact that she was thrilled to see him.
Anthia stepped out of the car, glad she had worn a silk knit suit as she quietly waited for Stephanie to let go of her brother.
“Who’s this?” Stephanie asked, beaming up at Dexter.
Dexter reached out a hand and clasped Anthia around the waist. “Anthia Jenkins, my sister Stephanie Washington.”
“Hi!” She was all smiles. “Welcome. I’m so glad you both could come. Let’s go inside.” She led the way through the wide double doors into the pearl gray marble foyer. “I can’t wait until you meet Ken, Dexter. He’s so wonderful. I still can’t believe we’ll be married in a matter of days.” She laughed. “You two are going to be best friends.”
Dexter laughed, pleased to see her so well and happy. He reminded himself that she was worth the emotional upheaval of seeing his father and stepmother again. He was dreading their inevitable clash. He was also having second thoughts about asking Anthia to accompany him.
He had not brought Anthia here as a eyewitness to the results of the disintegration of his family, but that was exactly what she would eventually see. He had only been thinking about himself when he invited her. He had no business putting her in the middle of an emotionally charged situation.
He was not conscious of how taunt with tension his tall frame was until he entered the large foyer, at its base was a wide sweeping staircase.
“Mother!” Stephanie called, tugging Dexter along with her through the archway into the luxuriously furnished spacious living room.
Marian Washington was a beautiful woman, whom the passing years had been extremely kind. Her pale brown complexion was as smooth and unblemished as her daughter’s. Her thick black hair, tinged with silver, had been swept up and pinned into a graceful knot. The smile she reserved for her only child was radiant. She was elegantly dressed in a sand-colored silk dress with a long strand of cultured pearls draped around her neck and large square-cut diamond and pearl studs graced her earlobes. Her left hand was adorned with a large emerald-cut diamond ring teamed with a wide diamond-encrusted band. She practically reeked of money and social grace.
“Hello, Dexter.” Her voice was soft, refined and cold. She made no move to approach him, but remained seated with her hands clasped loosely in her lap. The chilly smile she gave him fell far short of welcoming. “You’re looking well.”
Dexter nodded. “Marion.”
His hand tightened around Anthia’s so much so that she bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain. Anthia quietly took in the sheer opulence and cold beauty of the room. Never had she imagined that Dexter came from this kind of wealth.
“Isn’t it wonderful, Mother? Dexter is finally home.” Stephanie laughed nervously, looking from one to the other. “Oh, I’m sorry. Mother this is Anthia Jenkins. Dexter’s lady friend from Michigan.”
“Hello, Ms. Jenkins,” Marion rose, holding out her hand. “Welcome to our home. I hope your stay will be a pleasant one.”
Somewhat embarrassed by the assumption, Anthia said, “Thank you. You have a fabulous home,” and returned the handshake even though she was aware that it was more than Marion had done for her stepson in way of welcome.
Marian nodded and laughed, “We like it.”
“Well, I see you made it in.” The deep male voice, much like Dexter’s, came from the archway. The similarities between father and son did not end with their voices. Damon Washington was every bit as handsome, tall and striking as his son. Good living had left a thick ridge around his midsection.
“Dad,” Dexter said, quietly meeting his father’s gaze. His mouth tight and unsmiling, his body perfectly straight.
“Have a good flight?” the older man asked going to stand beside his wife.
“Fine,” Dexter managed evenly.
“Oh, Daddy, this is Dexter’s lady friend from Michigan. Anthia Jenkins, our father, Damon Washington.”
“How do you do?” Anthia acknowledged, trying to hide her astonishment at the depth of this family’s coldness. There was no warmth, no welcome home from either one of them. Dexter could be a stranger off the street, for all the interest they showed in him.
After the two shook hands, his sister said, “Oh, Daddy, I’m so thrilled to have Dexter home. Now the wedding will be just perfect.” Stephanie’s gaze went to her father’s, her eyes pleading with him not to spoil this reunion for her.
Her father cleared his throat, “As long as you are happy that is all that matters, baby.” He went over to the portable bar in the corner of the room. “Drink anyone?”
“Yes, dear,” his wife requested. “White wine, please.”
“Ms. Jenkins? Dexter?
“No thank you,” both of them said at once.
“Please, won’t you sit down. I’ll call Margaret, our housekeeper, to bring refreshments,” Stephanie invited. “Mother do we have any more of those lemon tarts? Dexter always loved them.”
“Nothing for me,” Dexter said stiffly, making no move to sit down.
“But...” his sister trailed off. Then she took a deep breath, “You two must be exhausted. Let me show you to your rooms.” She didn’t wait for a response but led the way back into the foyer, toward the central staircase.
Dexter stopped her before she could mount the stairs. “It’s not going to work, Steph. I can’t stay in his house.”
“Yes it will.” Her chin lifted defiantly. “I want you here. I’ve arranged everything. All the out-of-town guests will be at the Four Seasons in town.” She took his hand. “Please, Dexter. It is only for a few days. Surely, you and Daddy can stay in the same house for three days!”
Dexter closed his eyes as he fought his inclination to refuse outright. Stephanie was pleading with him to stay. He didn’t want to hurt her. He had missed her. They saw so little of each other these days. Soon she would be a married lady and he wanted her wedding to be just as perfect as she planned it. “Please...” she whispered, squeezing his hand.
He glanced at Anthia and saw her nod her agreement. Finally he said, “Okay,” he gave her a gentle hug. “I’ll get the luggage out of the car.”
Anthia was smoothing out a dress as she unpacked when there was a soft knock on the open door between the bathroom that connected her room with Dexter’s.
“May I come in?” he asked.
Her ready smile was warm and welcoming, just what he needed. “Yes, please. Are you unpacked?”
Dexter went over to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the expansive gardens. The tennis court and pool house were visible from this angle of the property. He stood with his back to her, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets.
“Dex? Have you...”
“No. One of the maids will take care of it. Goodness knows Marian can’t get along without a truckload of them. I can’t imagine her washing her own dirty clothes like my mother used to do. He married her because of me and he never let either one of us forget it.” He turned then, to look at her. “Dad has given Marian everything she wanted. But then she has the proper background. She was a debutante, daughter of a prominent Boston family of doctors, a Howard graduate and member of a sorority. My mother was none of those things.”
“Oh Dex, you must not forget the most important thing. Your mother was a good, hardworking woman and she loved you. No one can take that away from you.”
He looked at Anthia, touched by her thoughtfulness. “You’re right. My father saw that I was taken care of, but he had no love for me. It wasn’t until I met Christine that things started to change for me.” He rubbed his hand over his hair. “Just a few more days then we can get the hell out of here.”
“If you prefer that we not stay...”
He shook his head. “We’re staying. It means too much to Steph.” He looked around the lavish pale blue bedroom. “Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes. The room is lovely. But I can only imagine how stressful this is for you.”
Dexter was not sure why he was surprised. Anthia was his best friend and knew him well. She understood him better than he understood himself. He was such a self-contained man that so much of himself was kept private from others.
“It’s only for a few days. I can put up with anything for that long. It’s amazing how down to earth and unpretentious Stephanie is considering Marion’s influence,” he marveled. “Stephanie seems very happy with this Ken.”
Anthia’s heart swelled with love. It took all of her self-control not to go over to him and show him how she felt about him. His ability to put others’ needs before his own was only one of things Anthia adored about Dexter. Time and time again she saw firsthand his devotion to the kids at the center. He knew what it meant to have only himself to depend on. He had helped so many youngsters in the same situation. He was willing to risk his own life if it came down to it.
She had benefitted from his helping hand in her own personal life. What would those painful months while her son healed have been like without his support? She didn’t want to even think of it.
There was no doubt about the fact that he had earned both Jeff’s and Anthia’s respect. Dexter Washington was all man, in every sense of the word. Any woman who was lucky enough to break down those walls he used to protect himself would be extremely fortunate. For so long Anthia hoped to be that woman. She felt it was unlikely, because he would not let her get but so close to him. He trusted her with his secrets but not his heart.
If not for this trip she would not have known he was a trained architect or his family’s background or his estrangement with his sole remaining parent. He was an expert at keeping his private life private.
No matter how much he desired her sexually, he could not love her. He was still very much in love with his Christine. Why did the knowledge hurt so much? He had been very open and honest about his feelings from the very beginning. She was the one who had made the mistake of caring too much. She had opened herself up for disillusionment and heartache. Why didn’t she have sense enough to keep some distance between them? If for no other reason than self-preservation.
“Ready?”
“Huh?”
“Dinner.” He quirked a brow.
Anthia blushed. “Yes, of course. Let me run a quick comb through my hair.”
Kenneth Jackson, Stephanie’s fiance, and his parents arrived just before dinner, easing the tension around the table somewhat. The engaged couple had met at the family-owned firm. Stephanie worked in the marketing department while Kenneth was an architect in management and design. The Washingtons definitely approved of the match and Damon Washington didn’t even try to conceal his fondness for the younger man.
Anthia was pleased to see that Kenneth clearly adored Stephanie. The conversation around the table centered on their upcoming wedding. Although it proved to be a festive evening, Anthia was relieved when it drew to a close. Mr. Washington had barely spoken to his own son. Anthia could almost feel Dexter’s tension and she resented his father for it.
“Tired?” Dexter had been self-absorbed as he walked her to her door. He rested his shoulder against the doorjamb.
“Mmm, it’s been a long day. I like your sister. She certainly loves her older brother.” The comment brought a smile to his dark, thoughtful features.
“Yeah. Kenneth seems like a nice guy. It’s good to see her so happy. I’d better let you get some rest. See you in the morning.” He didn’t offer so much as a kiss on her cheek.
Determined to hide her disappointment, Anthia said “ ’Night,” then slipped inside her room and quietly closed the door behind her. As she sank down into the deep cushioned armchair, she knew she had no right to his kisses. It was true that Dexter cared about her. Why else would he have included her in his plans? Nonetheless, his distancing himself hurt. She wanted him to at least share his feelings. But she didn’t need to be told that she didn’t have the emotional objectivity or the experience with men to evaluate the situation clearly. Her own feelings for him kept getting in the way.
Anthia didn’t remember her own father because he had died while she was still young. As hard as she tried, she simply did not understand how a man could continue to be so cold and unemotional toward his own son. The two hadn’t seen each other in years, yet the strain between them was almost tangible.
There was nothing she could do to help Dexter. He had already decided to keep her in a safe tiny little corner of his life. What they shared on that single night was over. It was as if he preferred to pretend that they had not become lovers. She took his regrets very personally.
“Just stop it!” she softly scolded herself. It was pointless to go over it yet again. She was here because Dexter claimed to need her with him. Yet, she still could not see how her being here was of value. He was a man accustomed to standing alone. Nevertheless he had asked for her help.
She was here to support Dexter during a rough time as he had helped her. As long as she kept that goal close at hand and forgot her own tender needs then it should not be a problem.
Anthia was soaking in the bathtub when she heard a knock on the connecting door. “I’m almost done,” she called through the door.
“Take your time,” was Dexter’s deep throated response from the other side of the door.
She finished her bath, creamed her skin with scented body lotion, then slipped into a long pink silk gown edged with ivory lace before she called to let Dexter know she had finished. Returning to her room, she brushed her hair, then relaxed against the pillows with a novel. The low murmurs from the television let her know that Dexter hadn’t gone to bed.
It was after one in the morning when she set her book aside and clicked off the bedside lamp. Despite her best efforts, she still couldn’t sleep. She was too busy listening for sounds of movements in the next room.
It was close to two when the shower was switched on in the bathroom. She had not realized how closely she had been listening to him until his footsteps receded and the bathroom light was turned off.
Flooded by painful memories in spite of her best efforts, she ached for what she could not have. She knew what it was to sleep beside him, resting in his arms. She knew the sweetness of being held against his heart. It had only been a few weeks ago, but it felt like an eternity. “Dex...” she whispered. He had made himself clear. He did not want her as his lover, merely a friend.
On more than one occasion, he had emphasized how he valued her friendship. There was no place in his heart for more. Yet, there was no way she could stop herself from wanting him. He was so deeply entrenched in her heart. And she came with him knowing how he felt. It was too late for regrets. She could not have comfortably stayed home, knowing what he had to face alone. Thus she found herself in an impossible situation.
Dexter remained steadfast in his determination that there would be no intimacy between them. Their single interlude had been enough for him. How could it have meant so little to him while it meant everything to her?
She had never known the kind of enjoyment a woman could find in a man’s arms. She suspected it might be uncomfortable for her considering how long it had been since she had been with a man. What she found was an incredible pleasure because of his consideration of her. He had been so tender with her, so sensitive to her needs. He had delayed his own climax in order to assure her a heart-stopping release. Tiny shivers raced down her spine as she vividly recalled those wonderful moments in his arms. The pleasure seemed to go on and on.
How could she to forget that? She sighed heavily. A lifetime was not long enough to allow her to forget what it was like to join her body with his. It might not have been love on his part but it was nothing less on hers. Unlike Dexter, she had no regrets. He might be able to walk away from what they shared, but she could not. He meant the world to her.
She knew beyond any doubt that Dexter Washington cared for her. “Why Dex? Why?” she mumbled aloud, but she knew the answer. It was because of his lost love. There was no doubt that he had been deeply in love with Christine. When he lost her, he had lost everything that mattered to him.
To make things worse, there was no possible way that he could prove to himself that he was not responsible for her death. No way, he would allow himself to love again.
Finally giving up all pretense of sleeping, Anthia flicked on the bedside lamp. She quietly paced the confines of bedroom as her head filled with troubled thoughts. The soft knock on the connecting door startled her.
“Anthia?”
She stood absolutely still as if she had been caught doing an unspeakable act. Eventually she said “Yes?”
“I saw your light. May I come in?” Her response was so long in coming that, Dexter repeated her name a bit louder this time.
“Yes, of course,” she said before she remembered she was wearing nothing more than a silk nightgown.
He was in the room before she had taken a single step. “Can’t sleep,” he said leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded. He wore a dark green short toweling robe. He didn’t look like he was wearing much under it for his broad hair roughened chest, long muscular legs and feet were bare. His dark brooding gaze moved over her thinly veiled frame.
Anthia picked up the pink robe from the end of the bed, quickly put it on and belted it at her waist. Unfortunately, the silk robe did very little to conceal her soft breasts and small waist and shapely hips. Her small toes painted cherry-red peeked out from beneath the hem.
“Little restless,” she said, keeping her eyes concealed beneath long, silky black lashes. She did not want him to know how much she had been longing for him. “How about you?”
He shrugged making no move to come farther into the room. “It’s normal for me. I turn the television on for company.” He watched as she sank down to the side of the bed.
“It’s been a long day,” she said absently smoothing her hair which curled around her shoulders.
“Yeah,” he murmured, curious as to why she would not look at him. “Does my being here make you uncomfortable?”
“No, why do you ask?”
“You haven’t looked at me since I entered the room. What’s going on Anthia? Is something wrong?”
“No.”