“A few days.”
The valet glanced at Ann curiously as Heath said, “This is Mrs. Bodine.”
“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” the valet said as Ann tried to adjust to hearing herself introduced that way.
The second man returned from depositing their bags on the steps and looked into Ann’s face for the first time as he closed her door.
“Miss Talbot?” he said in astonishment.
Ann paused for a moment and gazed back at him. He looked vaguely familiar.
“Yes?” she said.
“Don’t you remember me? Carlos Sanchez, Luisa’s nephew. I used to drop her off at work at your house sometimes.”
“Oh, yes, Carlos. Of course. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? How are you?”
“I’m fine. Though my Aunt Luisa died a few years ago.”
“Yes, I know. I heard. I’m very sorry.”
“Thanks. What are you doing back in the Keys? Nobody’s seen you around here for the longest time.”
“She came here to get married,” Heath said, walking around the car and joining them. “Ann is my wife.”
Carlos stared at Heath and then smiled slowly. “So you two got together, anyway,” he said.
“Anyway?” Heath inquired.
“Aunt Luisa used to talk about how Henry Talbot was trying to break up your romance.”
“With her expert assistance,” Heath said humorlessly, staring at Carlos.
“Yeah, well, she was very devoted to Mr. Talbot,” Carlos said, looking from one to the other nervously.
“Yes, she was,” Ann said, shooting Heath a look. “And my father appreciated it very much. It was wonderful to see you again, Carlos, but it’s been a long day and I’m very tired. Do you think we could go up to our room now?”
“Sure, sure,” Carlos said, happy to extricate himself from what had quickly become an uncomfortable situation. He and the other valet preceded Heath and Ann up the wide stairs of the hotel and into the spacious, marble-floored lobby. It was tastefully decorated in Florida pastels and open to the air on all four sides behind floor-to-ceiling glass doors.
“Mr. Bodine!” the desk clerk said with a broad smile. “It’s delightful to have you staying with us again. And this must be your wife. What a lovely lady, you have excellent taste. Mrs. Bodine, how do you do?”
Ann shook his hand and then watched as he bustled over to get the room key.
“These people all greet you like a long-lost relative,” she said to Heath.
“I spend a lot of time in hotels,” he replied shortly.
When they reached the suite, Carlos was already setting their bags on the luggage rest in the foyer. Heath tipped him and Carlos flashed Ann a smile and said, “Good to see you back in Florida, Miss Talbot—I mean, Mrs. Bodine.”
Heath slammed the door shut behind him. “Still bowing and scraping before you, aren’t they?” he said disgustedly.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Ann said.
“Of course you do. You can’t resist playing lady of the manor with the underlings.”
“I was just being polite to him, Heath. You should try it sometime.”
“I seem to have done all right with my inadequate manners. We didn’t have too many finishing schools in Hispaniola.”
“Why do you have such a chip on your shoulder? What was I supposed to do, Heath, ignore him? I knew him years ago—his aunt worked for my family a long time.”
“His aunt was your father’s dupe! He thought of her as a convenience, somebody to wash his clothes and cook his food—a peasant from shantytown! She thought she was his friend and she ceased to exist for him the moment he could no longer use her.”
“That isn’t true, Heath. My father left her enough money in his will to retire to a nice place in Miami. It wasn’t his fault that she didn’t live long enough to enjoy it.”
“You’re justifying your father’s behavior to me now?” Heath said incredulously. They were standing in the suite’s foyer, arguing like two barristers.
“I’m not defending him. I’m merely telling you that he repaid Luisa for her loyalty.”
“King Henry doling out the royal favors,” Heath said sarcastically.
“I have more reason to hate him than you do. I’m just trying to be fair.”
“You’re just acting like a princess born to the purple. It must be true what they say—it’s in the blood.”
“It’s in the way you treat other people. You can’t buy—” She stopped.
“What? Class, good breeding, refinement?” he said sneeringly. “Sure you can. I bought you, didn’t I?”
Stung, Ann didn’t reply for a second, then said, “You bought my body, Heath. That’s all.”
“That’s enough.” He tossed his jacket onto the foyer table and left the suite.
Ann sagged against the wall, drained as if she had just run a marathon. How could they go on like this? They had been married only a couple of hours and already they were at each other’s throats.
She walked desultorily into the parlor with its adjoining bedroom. The rooms were large and light, richly appointed and lushly carpeted, with a balcony overlooking the beach and an ornate bathroom. This was done in the same marble as the lobby floor, with a Jacuzzi tub and gilt fixtures. Ann paused in the doorway and looked around. His and her plush bathrobes hung on the back of the door and the vanity contained a tall glass jar filled with little soaps in the shapes of seashells. Everything was wrapped in paper, including the toilet. Stacks of thick towels filled the shelves next to the shower and a tray on the sink held miniature bottles of everything from herbal shampoo to mint hand lotion.
Ann had never stayed at the Imperial, but she knew it had been one of her father’s favorites.
She went back into the bedroom and hung the few things she had brought with her in the capacious closet. She had no idea where Heath had gone or when he would be back. So she went to the phone and called her brother to see how he’d been doing, her editor in New York, and Amy Horton. She stretched the conversations out as long as she could. Then, depressed by the events of the day and bone weary from the stress of containing her emotions, she undressed to her camisole and briefs and lay down on the embroidered bedspread.
In minutes she was asleep.
Ann was conscious of nothing for the next several hours. When she came to, the room was dark and Heath was sitting next to her on the bed, his hand on her shoulder.
Ann knew it was Heath before she was even awake, before she remembered the wedding or their circumstances. She knew it instinctively, from his scent, his posture, the feel of his fingers. Without a word she turned into his arms.
Heath held her loosely for a moment and she put her head on his shoulder. Then his grip tightened and his mouth came down hard and fast on hers.
Ann’s mind spun out, reeling back to the summer they had shared. The kiss he had given her at their wedding was light, fleeting. This one recalled the passion of the two teenagers who had come together like a spark and tinder, never to be the same again.
In an instant Ann forgot the sarcastic remarks, the sullen looks, the fury and bitterness he had shown her since their reunion. She was seventeen, and this was Heath, whom she loved so much. Her lips opened to admit his probing tongue as his hands slipped under her camisole, seeking her skin. His fingers were still rough as a boy’s, callused, and she shivered as he ran his hands up her bare arms and across her back, lifting the scrap of silk over her head and tossing it onto the floor. She gasped against his mouth as his hand closed over her breast and she felt his thumb rasp her nipple, increasing the pressure until she moaned and her head fell back, exposing an expanse of soft, pale skin.
He bent his head and ran his tongue along the slender line of her throat, holding her to him with one arm and lifting her legs with the other. He lay back on the bed, pulling her down with him. She sighed as she felt him along the length of her, his mouth moving from the hollow between her breasts to each sensitive nipple, sucking gently. Ann held his head, his thick hair like strands of raw silk against her fingers, his lips caressing her until she tugged on him to raise his head. His long-lashed eyes looked down into hers in the dim room, his skin dusky against the collar of his crisp white shirt, his mouth wet and reddened from her kisses.