Color My World Read online

Page 6


  A low whistle was her response. “Wow, you’re going to have to hustle. The first night of Hanukkah is in eight days. Levi usually operates on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. How are you going to make it happen?”

  “Ella checked his schedule and he’s not operating that Monday. So, I’ll paint the mural this coming Saturday and Sunday. It will be dry and there will be no paint fumes when she shows it to him Tuesday night.”

  “He’ll love it. A hot red Mustang, Ella and Hersch. His three favorites. What more could he ask for?”

  “How about you? What do you want for Hanukkah this year, little girl?” Don gave her a crazy Santa leer.

  She was silent. She had never really celebrated the holiday. Her mother tended to ignore celebrations and her father was Catholic. It had not been until she moved to Levi’s property that Missy had gotten into looking forward to holidays.

  “Hmmm. I would have said nothing before today. But I’m still having shoe envy over those blue Jimmy Choo high heels I saw on a leggy blonde outside your bank.” At his surprised look, she added mischievously, “And a rhinestone collar for Lady Marmalade. This little fluffy dog was wearing one this morning and I thought how Lady would look so glamorous in one.” Don was still staring at her so she punched him in the arm to let him know she was just kidding. She didn’t expect anything from him. It’s not like he was her boyfriend.

  “I’m not used to anyone buying me gifts. Levi does every year for my birthday and Hanukkah but except for holiday gift exchanges with my girlfriends at Yoga class and soap-making class, I’m not really into the whole gift thing.” Don reached out to touch her hand, then he raised it to his lips for a tender kiss. A kiss that made her melt and made her uncomfortable. There was more than just lust in his eyes, she was sure of it. There was affection. But how could he have feelings for her when he didn’t really know her?

  “I don’t need presents.” She just blurted it out. Don raised his lips from her hand but did not let go of it. “I mean, sure, everyone likes presents, but I don’t need people to give me things. Levi keeps trying to give me a car, even though he and I are both fine with me just driving whichever of his is available since most of the time I’m driving somewhere for him. Or for Ella.”

  This was not going the way she wanted it to. She was trying to tell Don something about herself and he just looked more confused. And amused.

  “I have a bank account in Clearwater. Well, Tampa, really, but when I go up there, I usually hang out in Clearwater, because of the beach and all. But I think I know why you come here to bank because I go off Mimosa Key to bank too. It’s because I don’t want anyone to know too much about me. Well, Levi and Ella know some stuff, but I don’t want people from my past showing up.”

  “Are you in some kind of trouble, Missy? Are you running from the law?” Don’s voice sounded shocked—as if he couldn’t imagine that she would ever do anything illegal.

  “No, nothing like that. I walked away from a job I no longer needed and a man I no longer loved, if I ever loved him, which I doubt. I don’t want to ever have to deal with those people again.”

  His dark eyebrows crooked up. In astonishment or was it abhorrence?

  She took a long sip of water to buy herself some time. She’d heard that confession was good for the soul, but right now she felt like hell. “It’s just that I have a lot of money. I’m not saying that to brag or show off to you. It’s just that, well, you have this bank account here in Miami because you need an international bank, which says to me that you have money abroad that you need to be able to access. And you spent way more at the art supply store today than I figure a struggling artist would be able to pay out for paintings that had not been commissioned yet. And you asked me what I wanted for the holidays. So, I felt I should tell you that you don’t have to worry that I’d be interested in you because you probably have money because I have money, too. That’s all.”

  A slow smile spread across his face and then he gathered her into his arms, muttering some beautiful Italian words into her hair. Don held her there in the little courtyard, as winter sun cast dappled shadows on the ground and people chattered around them. Then, he pulled back a little from her, his sable eyes burning into hers.

  “You are a wonder. I adore you. I must because as much as I love making love to you I think I may love just listening to you almost as much. You fascinate me, cara. Why did it take me so long to realize it?” He bent to kiss her. Before his lips brushed hers, he whispered, “I’m really, really rich.”

  Chapter Nine

  On the drive home from Miami, they held hands. Except when Don had to shift gears, but as soon as his hand left the stick, he reached for Missy again. Now that the dark secret of her finances had come to light, words spilled out of her. She told him about her upbringing in Boston and her rise to wealth and power in Washington. She would not tell him the name of the man who had betrayed her trust—which was probably just as well because Don had an overwhelming urge to pummel him until he was unrecognizable.

  For his part, Don revealed some of his secrets. But not his real name and nothing about Gina and Raphael. He explained, truthfully, that he had become disenchanted with the international art scene, and had decided to travel extensively, seeking new inspiration. It was a lot to take in, he knew. By the time they crossed the Causeway, Missy’s head was nodding with fatigue.

  He brought her to his building and helped her up the stairs, telling her she should nap for a few hours, before she headed home to the North Shore. Don barely had time to tuck a soft coverlet around Missy after slipping off her shoes, before she was snuffling softly, as she did when she was deep asleep. He spent the next two hours unpacking his Jeep and stowing away all his new supplies. The seascape he had painted for Missy had been locked in the closet, guarded by Gina and Raphael.

  The sun was starting to sink into the Gulf when Missy’s footsteps on the stairs announced she was awake. Don looked up from the canvas he was framing to see her stretching and yawning in the doorway of the gallery.

  “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, you don’t look like you’re quite awake yet. Do you want to sleep some more? You could stay over.”

  “Hmmm, no, but thank you. I need to get Levi’s car back, though I’m sure he won’t be needing it. And I really must see to Lady Marmalade. So, I should be going. Did you leave my stuff in your Jeep?” She looked around for her tote and purse. And her shopping bags.

  “Yes, but I locked the Jeep. Come on and I’ll help you move your loot to Levi’s car.” He grabbed his keys from the table and walked with her down the hall to the back door. It took just a few minutes to transfer Missy’s things to the Volvo. She was getting ready to slide into the driver’s seat when Don reached for her. His arms wrapped around her as his lips found hers. He felt his heart move as she sighed into his mouth, desire pooling in his gut as their tongues tangled.

  He let her go with the promise that he would come to her that night, late because he had work to do for Clay and Lacey.

  It was dark when he drove north later that evening, stopping first at Casa Blanca to drop off several more framed paintings at Lacey’s office. The lights were out in the main house when he pulled down the white shell drive to park next to Missy’s cottage. Lady Marmalade was waiting for him just inside the door, meowing softly. He bent to pet her regal head, thinking that Missy had been right—a rhinestone collar was just what the cat needed. He poured some cream in her bowl then made his way down the short hall to Missy’s room. Music was softly playing, but not in the bedroom. Soft lights flickered from the en suite. The sight that he beheld when he pushed open the door to the bathroom would be etched in his mind forever,

  In a tub almost overflowing with bubbles, her head laying back against a blue terry pillow, her hair piled up with strands escaping from a messy top knot, shadowed eyes closed, with just the tops of her breasts visible through the soapy water, was the dark-haired beauty who was worming her way into his heart. Adele was singing her heart out abou
t broken hearts and Missy was humming along, lost in the song. Don pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor, his jeans were next, then his boxers completed the soft pile of clothing. Carefully, he stepped into the tub, facing her, but there was no way for him to slide beneath the bubbles without disturbing her.

  “What took you so long?” Her blue eyes opened in amusement and he realized she had probably known he was there all along. Then, her eyes widened at the sight of his throbbing arousal. She slid upright, making room for him to ease down into the water opposite her, exposing the deep pink crests of her breasts, already tightened into hard buds. As soon as he was in the water, he reached for her, his hands sliding over and under and around, stroking her silky skin. Her eyes never left his face. His hands slid down to her hips and he pulled her forward, until she was kneeling over him, her knees hugging his thighs. She rose up, then gently lowered herself onto him, taking every rock-hard inch of him inside her. Unable to resist, he leaned forward, her ass cupped in his hands, and licked the drops of water off her nipples. A ragged indrawn breath let him know how much she wanted him to taste her. His tongue played with her as she settled herself to her task: to ride him into ecstasy. Small waves rose around them and caressed them every time she moved. He knew he was about to explode and wanted her with him. His fingers traced the separation between the cheeks of her butt. As soon as he touched her, she clenched around his hard, throbbing length, drawing every drop from him as they came together.

  Later, as they lay together in Missy’s bed, drifting off to sleep for the first time in each other’s arms, he heard her whisper against his chest, “I love you.” Don’s arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer. His lips pressed to her silken hair, “Ti amo. I love you, too.”

  Missy was curled into a tight ball on the edge of the bed, wrapped up in the comforter like one of her breakfast burritos, when Don awoke to a raspy tongue licking his hand that was draped off the side of the bed. Staring down into Lady’s demanding green eyes, he silently warned her to be quiet. Like so many mornings when he had awakened before Missy, he eased quietly from the bed, determined to let his lover sleep. He found his clothes in the bathroom, thankfully still dry despite the water that had sloshed over the sides of the claw foot tub where they had made love the night before. Dressing and brushing his teeth by the faint light of sunrise filtering through the bathroom curtains, Don couldn’t stop grinning.

  Even putting up with Lady’s demands to be fed and petted did not dampen his good mood. Great mood, he corrected himself as he climbed into his Jeep. It was going to be a great day. The sky was almost as beautiful as it had been the morning he’d begun Missy’s seascape. He had money in the bank, work he was born to do, and a damn fine woman who loved him. All was right in his world.

  Chapter Ten

  Missy waited until she heard Don start up his Jeep and pull away from her cottage, the crunch of the tires on the seashell driveway fading, before she sat up. Dizziness swept over her, almost forcing her to crawl back under the covers. She sat there, legs dangling, her head buried in her hands, waiting for nausea to pass. The urge to pee finally drove her into the bathroom, where she was promptly sick. Rather than go back to bed, Missy decided to tough it out, get cleaned up and head over to the main house. The woman looking back from the mirror while she brushed her teeth had dark circles under her eyes, a faint sheen of perspiration on her brow and cheekbones that were sharper than they had ever been before.

  What the hell is wrong with me? “You know, Lady,” she almost whined to the cat who had stayed by her side throughout her travail, “it would be just my luck now that I have finally met a man I can love, to find out I have some horrible disease.” Recalling the whispered declarations of love from the night before brought a smile to her lips and butterflies to her stomach. Her left hand strayed down to her tummy, to calm the flutters she felt as she recalled Don’s husky voice whispering that he loved her in Italian and English. The words were sweet in any language but she hugged “ti amo” to her heart.

  Then she froze. Missy stared in the mirror at her left hand, resting on the slight mound of her stomach. No, make that her nicely rounded abdomen. She lifted up her nightshirt to stare at what was definitely a bulge She had never had six-pack abs but she’d been damn close. Now that she was looking, it was obvious that she had put on weight in her stomach area. Over her shoulder in the mirror’s reflection, she saw the claw foot tub. She blushed as images of the night before scrolled through her memory. A slight smile played around her lips but the word that slipped out was “damn.”

  They hadn’t used a condom! Damn, she’d been so caught up in how sexy her man had looked getting naked and stepping into the tub with her, she’d almost come when his hands stroked over her breasts. She’d just climbed right up onto his lap and sunk down on his beautiful hard cock without a thought in the world about birth control. What if she was pregnant? She shivered as though someone had dumped a tub of ice water all over her, like those Facebook challenges from a year ago.

  No, wait. Stupid girl. Don’t jump to conclusions. You didn’t get pregnant last night. Your tummy wouldn’t be sticking out even a tiny bit if you just got pregnant last night. She almost laughed at herself, at her foolishness, but before she could sigh with relief, harsh facts slammed into her brain. I can’t remember when my last period was. She yanked open the linen closet door. There, stashed behind a four-pack of toilet paper, was an unopened box of tampons. Think! It was usually the third week of the month. November. Thanksgiving week. So busy, with Levi’s family in town and the Annual Mimosa Key Thanksgiving Festival. Nope, she didn’t have a period then. When? October? She couldn’t remember. Damn!

  Reeling back into her bedroom, she threw on underwear, jeans, and a sweatshirt, and slipped her feet into her moccasins. Grabbing the keys to the Volvo and her purse, she dashed out the door, pausing only to bend down to where Lady Marmalade was curled on her favorite chair in the early morning light and whisper, “Oh, Lady, what are we going to do?”

  Missy drove over the causeway to Naples, then headed north until she came across a suburban strip mall with a pharmacy. She wandered up and down every aisle twice to make sure there was no one from Mimosa Key, no one she even remotely knew, anywhere in the store. Her cart was full of stuff she blindly picked off the shelves. Ladies razors. Mouthwash. Shampoo. Cat food. Red licorice. And three pregnancy tests. She paid cash to the disinterested young clerk and then dumped the bags in the trunk of the car.

  By the time she pulled into the carport next to Levi’s and Ella’s house, it was after eight o’clock. “I can’t do this alone.” She glanced over at the front door. Levi would already be in surgery. Ella was probably up and in her office. Missy took everything out of the bag the tests were in except the red licorice and climbed the stairs to the front porch. She let herself in to the sound of Hersch’s excited barks. But the big dog was not sitting by the door. Missy followed the sounds into the kitchen where she found Ella removing a breakfast burrito from the microwave.

  “Hey, Missy. I didn’t expect you until nine. What’s up? You want one of these egg and cheese thingies or do you want one with sausage? Hersch will probably fight you for it, though. Poor baby is starving after our run on the beach this morning.” Ella continued talking while she took her plate and a mug of coffee over to the stools at the island and sat down. “How was your trip with Don yesterday? Did you have a good time? Hey, did you get me some more ink cartridges? I need to print…” The author’s voice trailed off as she realized that Missy had not moved and had not spoken. “Are you okay?” Ella rose and went to her friend, pulling Missy to over to sit next to her. “You’re as pale as a ghost. Let me make you some lemon and ginger tea. Maybe a piece of toast.” When Missy started to rise, Ella placed a hand on her shoulder to make her sit. “Stop. I can do it. Even I can make a piece of toast.” She glanced down at the white plastic shopping bag clenched in Missy’s hands. “What’s this? I see red licorice. Yay! I
ran out late yesterday and I’m going to need it if I plan on writing anything today.”

  When Ella moved to take the bag. Missy clutched it to her chest. “It’s not licorice. I mean, it’s not just licorice.” Her hands opened and the contents of the bag spilled out onto the counter. Ella’s eyes flew open and her mouth made a perfect “O”. Then she wrapped Missy in a two-armed hug and rocked her as Missy began to cry.

  “I was going to ask if this means good news or bad news. I can’t tell if your tears are tears of joy or regret.”

  Missy swiped her eyes with her sleeve and laughed shakily. “They’re tears of abject terror.” She related to Ella what had happened earlier that morning, even joining the other woman in her laughter about Missy assuming her stomach was sticking out because she had gotten pregnant the night before.

  “Well, I have no experience with being pregnant, as you now know, though I have tons of experience with wanting to be. You don’t look like you want to be.”

  “I’m not sure what I want. Twenty-four hours ago, I would have said pregnancy was the last thing on my mind—the most remote possibility in the world and something I would avoid at all costs. I was living a quiet and satisfying, though, secretive, life, with a satisfying lover on the side. Now, I’ve discovered my lover has some secrets of his own. But, I know he loves me. And I know I love him. That’s all I know. Except I’m pretty damn sure I’m pregnant at almost forty.”

  “Well, we know that happens, we’ve seen evidence of it here in Barefoot Bay. Hell, you said your own mother got pregnant with you when she was in her mid-forties. Nothing to be ashamed of or to really worry about, with all the advances in pre-natal care. But,” Ella gave Missy another fierce hug, “we’re getting worried about the verdict before all the evidence is in. Time for you to go pee and find out if you’re knocked up, girlfriend.”