She never ceased to amaze him. He knew her to be in her midfifties, but her excellent body belied her age. As she took down her hair, he could see her high, firm, full breasts reflected in the cheval glass. Her stomach was flat, and her thighs were without the heaviness that cursed most middle-aged women. Her hips were slender and taut. The skin on her buttocks was smooth and unwrinkled.
Each time he saw her thus, he was made painfully aware of his own unattractive physique. Out of the confines of his tight vest, his chest and stomach sagged, and his short legs had thickened with age. Carson had always envied his friend Ben his lithe, tall body. That powerful build and thick white hair had turned the heads of many women even as his years advanced.
Unperturbed by his careful observance of her, Olivia walked to the bedside and turned down the gas lamp. She sighed tiredly as she lay down and rested her head against the scented pillowcase.
“You were marvelous with them tonight, darling. I’m sure the evening was exhausting for you,” Carson said as he reached over to stroke Olivia’s luxuriant hair with his stubby fingers.
“Those bastards,” she hissed. “They know they have us over a barrel, and they’re making full use of our position to kick us while we’re down. If I didn’t want that railroad so desperately, I’d never give that goddam German sonofabitch the time of day.” Carson was used to her explicit language. He was gratified that she spoke this candidly only with him. He saw it as an indication of trust.
“I know, my dear. We’ll just have to play their game for a while. We’ve had to make sacrifices like this before, but they’ve always worked in our favor.”
“Yes. But this time it’s particularly galling.”
“Forget them for now and try to relax.” Carson moved closer and settled his stocky body along hers. He stroked her cheek before raising himself to kiss her briefly on the mouth; he knew she didn’t enjoy ardent kisses.
Laying his head as close to Olivia’s as space would allow, Carson trailed his hand down her throat and chest to cup her breast. Her one pregnancy hadn’t darkened her nipples, and they were almost as pink as a young girl’s. He continued to enjoy the feel of her warm flesh and the tender peaks of her breasts until she shifted impatiently. Her restlessness was his signal to go about his business.
He mounted her and met no resistance when he entered her quickly. His passion rose and climaxed in a matter of minutes. He never tried to sustain the pleasure. Olivia had been taught by the nuns at the Ursuline Academy in her native New Orleans that ladies didn’t enjoy the sexual act, but tolerated it out of love. Carson understood. If he ever wished he could coax a warmer response from Olivia, it was a fleeting fancy. His own cries of ecstasy were muzzled by the thick pillow in which he buried his face.
He was treated to a brief caress on his shoulder and a brush of her lips across his before she extricated herself from his embrace. Since that day over twenty years ago when she had unemotionally invited him to be her lover, he had never been allowed to linger inside her or enjoy her nakedness afterward.
Tonight, as usual, she left the bed and went directly into her bathroom. He heard the sounds of her washing. When she came back into the room, she was clad in a nightgown and robe.
“Carson, I have an idea.” She paced the expensive rug at the foot of the bed. He was never allowed to spend the entire night with her, and he begrudged the time she spent out of bed.
“Yes, dear?” he asked resignedly. He could tell by her agitated posture and the intent expression on her lovely face that she was enmeshed in thought. Tonight he would have to content himself with what lovemaking she had already permitted.
He listened with unconcealed astonishment as she related her plan. It was audacious and dangerous, clever and manipulative, impossible yet feasible. He objected to her motives, protested her means, but, as he always did, he agreed to her scheme.
Chapter 6
While Olivia outlined the plan that would have a dramatic impact on Lauren’s life, the girl was in her own bed trying vainly to sleep. She tossed restlessly, myriad thoughts darting through her mind and upsetting the modicum of serenity she had managed to preserve since her arrival at the Lockett household.
Olivia and Carson were a puzzle she couldn’t decipher. One moment she felt they accepted her for what she was, and the next moment she felt they posed a threat to her. Carson treated her kindly, but he was Olivia’s chattel. And Olivia’s attitude toward Lauren was reserved and cool to say the least.
The Vandivers had frightened Lauren. She was unaccustomed to hearing business deals discussed, and Parker’s callousness had appalled her. And Kurt was no doubt as greedy and ambitious as his father.
Thoughts of that young man made Lauren shiver even under the warmth of her bedcovers. He was handsome in a brutal sort of way, but his thick, powerful body repelled her, and his unctuous voice and conciliatory manner made her u
neasy. She felt threatened by him, but it was a different kind of alarm than she felt when she looked at Jared Lockett.
Jared. Ben’s son was a rake and scoundrel, a drunkard and a womanizer, so why did she continue to dwell on him? Why did Jared’s long, lean body intrigue her so? Why did she feel a compulsion to touch him?
Since she had been initiated into the rites of womanhood at age eleven and given a very rudimentary explanation of her body’s workings by the embittered Dorothea Harris, Lauren’s education on the subject of sexuality had been sadly deficient.
She was fifteen before she realized something mysterious, some strange chemistry, attracted the bodies of men and women to each other. She was at a picnic held in the city park in honor of the veterans returning home from the Spanish-American War in Cuba. As she sat under a shade tree, her attention was diverted from her book to a young soldier and his pretty young wife. Lauren knew them both. They had been married only a few weeks before he joined the army.
They were sitting close together under another tree. They weren’t talking, but were nonetheless communicating. They gazed steadfastly into each other’s eyes. The young woman rested her hand on her husband’s thigh and lightly caressed it with her fingertips. Lauren watched covertly from behind her eyeglasses as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the palm ardently. He then returned her hand to his thigh, pressing it gently.
For some inexplicable reason, Lauren’s heart started pounding, and she felt hot and flushed all over. She noticed a strange sensation in the lower part of her body. Her breasts were tingling, and the nipples became taut and pointed under her camisole. She was uncomfortable and ashamed to have such distinct physical reactions in these private parts of her body.
The man leaned down and whispered into his wife’s ear. She smiled, nodded. He stood, extending his hand to help pull her to her feet, then kissed her fervently on the mouth. Lauren was finding it difficult to draw a full breath.
They smiled at each other and, glancing around, clandestinely left the picnic. They said goodbye to no one, and apparently Lauren was the only one to witness their leaving.
Those disturbing but exquisite sensations she had experienced years ago when she watched the intimacy between the young couple had almost been forgotten. They had come back to her with stunning clarity when she saw Jared Lockett leaning negligently against her doorjamb that afternoon. Why?
She read his scorn for her in the amber lights of his eyes, and was deeply hurt. What had she done to evoke such disdain? Not even the hateful, ugly words William had flung at her had pierced her like that knowing, twisted smirk on Jared’s sensuous mouth.