“I can’t criticize her, because I played such an inactive role in Faith’s upbringing. She was as good a mother as an active tennis player, bridge player, social butterfly can be. I think Faith measured herself against her mother’s poise and found herself wanting. I doubt if Monica ever realized Faith’s inferiority complex or if she ever reassured her as you did tonight. Thank you for that.”
“I know how it hurts to feel unattractive.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Yes. Compared to the way I was in my adolescence, Faith has the grace of a prima ballerina. Glasses, braces, red hair, tall, skinny. I was the perfect model for a ‘before’ picture in a complete make-over program.”
Tyler propped his elbows on the table and leaned across it to whisper confidentially, “Miss Ashton, have you looked in a mirror lately?”
The question and the intensity with which he had asked it puzzled her. Before she could decipher his meaning, Faith came bounding up to the table and exclaimed, “I’ve done Space Invaders, Frogger, and Pac Man. Will you come play with me now? Pl-eee-ze.”
“How could we refuse an invitation like that? Hailey, are you game?”
“Lead on,” she said, rising gracefully from her chair only to have Faith grab her by the hand and drag her toward the back room.
For the next half hour Tyler fed the game machines with quarters. The adults were chagrined that Faith was far more adept at playing than they, but they all en
joyed the laughing and shouting that went with plying their skills. When a group of teenage boys became rowdy and their language too explicit for Faith’s ears, Tyler quickly hustled them out, bribing his daughter with the promise of an ice cream cone.
“Do you know Sweethearts Ice Cream Parlor in the Village?” he asked Hailey.
“They have peaches ’n’ cream. That’s my favorite,” Faith piped up.
“Sure I know Sweethearts. But I’m in a rut. I can’t break myself of the chocolate-chip habit.”
They bantered jovially as they strolled the sidewalk, which was still thronged with tourists. The curio and souvenir shops were busy with shoppers. Children and adults alike indulged themselves with candy from the numerous candy kitchens, lemonade from sidewalk stands, or fresh donuts. For those in need of a rest, one of the larger souvenir shops had provided rocking chairs at the storefront. Shoppers could sit and enjoy the sights and sounds without exerting themselves.
Architecturally the Village mall resembled a Bavarian township. The shops were quaint and diverse, featuring everything from Waterford crystal to kosher dill pickles to unique Christmas ornaments.
At this time of evening, Sweethearts was a popular spot, and it took time to decide on a flavor from the large variety on the menu. Tyler, Hailey, and Faith were forced to stand in line. Normally Hailey enjoyed the ice cream parlor with its red-flocked wallpaper and collection of Coca-Cola memorabilia. But tonight she was suffering from an agony both rare and wonderful.
Since they had left the restaurant, Tyler had kept a possessive hand around the back of her neck. His touch was light, his fingers caressing, and she didn’t doubt for a moment that he knew about the warmth he was spreading through her.
Now, as they were standing in the waiting line and he was discussing the merits of plain vanilla with Faith, his hand slipped down the bare skin of her back. With his index finger he distractedly traced the eyelet border of her bodice from one side of her back to the other. A now familiar lethargy crept into her limbs and she felt herself relying on the support of his tall, strong body beside her.
His fingers curved around her throat and his thumb tilted her head back as he leaned over her. “What do you think?”
She couldn’t think at all. Her thoughts were all centered around him—how perfectly male he was, how she would love to touch his hair, how his brows were wiry, and how her fingers longed for the chance to smooth them. His slender nose and curving mouth were faintly reminiscent of ancient Greek sculpture.
She didn’t realize how vulnerable, how feminine, she looked as she gazed up at him. The ceiling fans circling lazily overhead gently disarranged the wisps of hair lying against her cheeks and forehead. Her throat was arched, the pulse beating in it visibly agitated. Her green eyes were filled with an unintentionally seductive appeal.
The relevance of his question eluded her, but she said, “I’ll stick to my chocolate chip.”
His eyes lowered significantly to her mouth, which was parted and tremulous as rapid little breaths escaped from it. “Can I taste it?”
He wasn’t referring to the ice cream, and they both knew it. The conversation—not to mention the situation—was getting out of hand. Hailey knew she was sinking into a pool of desire that would surely drown her if she didn’t save herself now. She eased away from his possessive touch. “May I taste it.”
Faith thought Hailey’s correcting her father, as he had corrected her, extremely funny, and she dissolved into a fit of giggles that outlasted the ice-cream cones.
“It’s home to bed for you, Faith, my girl,” Tyler said as he ushered them out of the Village and toward the parked Lincoln. Faith climbed into the backseat without being told to, taking it for granted that Hailey would ride in the front with Tyler. “I’m going to drop you off at the Glenstone, ask Harry to see you to the suite, and then I’ll take Hailey home.”
“Can … may I at least go swimming?”
“Not unless I’m there to watch you. Besides, the pool closes at ten. But we’ll go in the morning if you’re fast asleep when I get home.”
“Okay,” Faith grumbled. As Hailey turned around to commiserate, Faith was stifling a broad yawn. Tyler had seen it in the rear-view mirror and they smiled conspiratorially.
The night manager at the Glenstone promised to see Faith safely to the Scotts’ suite. The girl blew Hailey a kiss as she and Tyler left through the massive glass doors at the front of the hotel. Hailey threw her a kiss back.