A Kiss Too Late. Ellen James

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      Jen pushed both hands through her hair. “Look, Mother, I really am happy for you and Phillip, so let’s forget about me for the moment. This is your time. Let’s talk about plans for the wedding. I’m ready to pitch in and get to work.”

      Beth smiled complacently. “I’m so glad to know that, dear. Because you’re going to be a big part of the ceremony. You and Adam both, that is. You see, Adam is going to be the best man, and you’re going to be the maid of honor!”

      * * *

      JEN WALKED QUICKLY through the grove of linden trees that marked the end of Hillard property. Prescott property began on the other side of the trees. For years, the Hillards and the Prescotts had been neighbors, the two families united in physical proximity, as well as in purpose and outlook. But Jen had always considered this grove between the two estates as a sort of no-man’s land, belonging to neither of the families. It had often been her refuge, a place where she could simply be by herself, away from the combined demands of the Hillards and the Prescotts. It was only natural to come here now. She began to pace.

      “Hello, Jenny,” said Adam from the other side of the trees. Jen stopped abruptly. Just the sound of his voice seemed to transform her surroundings. Suddenly this grove seemed too outlying, too secluded.

      Jen felt an odd mixture of defensiveness and anticipation. She turned and peered through the branches. “Adam, what are you doing out here?”

      He walked toward her. He’d taken off his jacket, but his tie was still loosely knotted. “I have to admit I got curious. How’d it go with your mother?”

      Jen frowned at him. “I suppose you already know she plans for me to be maid of honor–with you as best man, naturally.”

      “The best man has a lot of responsibilities,” he remarked. “Taking charge of the ushers, being the toastmaster, supervising the rest of the wedding party.”

      Jen glanced at him sharply. “I never should’ve let my mother finagle me into this.”

      “You could always tell her you don’t want to do it.”

      “She is my mother.”

      “So we’re both in. I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other the next few days.”

      Jen leaned against a tree trunk. “At least we can try not to get in each other’s way.”

      “We can try,” he agreed.

      “What I mean to say is, I think it would be easier if you didn’t come looking for me like this. Why did you come, Adam?”

      For once he appeared at a loss. He didn’t say anything for a moment. When at last he did speak, he surprised Jen.

      “This place is where I first kissed you,” he murmured. “Do you remember?”

      “Of course I do,” she said reluctantly. “But I never thought you remembered.”

      “You were, what, seventeen? I considered you much too young for me, but you seemed determined to show me otherwise.”

      Poignant memories drifted over her, but she resisted them as best she could. “What’s the point, Adam? It was all so long ago.”

      Sunlight glimmered down through the leaves, and a breeze from the ocean stirred the branches. Adam crossed to Jen, a look of purpose in his eyes. She pressed back against the tree trunk, feeling the scratch of bark through the thin material of her blouse. Adam was standing very close to her now. He raised his hand and gently, experimentally, ran his thumb over the tender surface of her lips. Jen caught her breath at his touch. She felt herself trembling, and she couldn’t move away from him.

      “Do you remember when I first made love to you?” he asked, his voice husky.

      Her eyelids drifted downward as he continued his light, seductive caress. But he was seducing her most of all with words and with those memories. Oh, she’d been crazy for him. Nineteen years old, and it had seemed to her she’d been saving herself all her life for Adam. She’d been so impatient to have him, and he’d taught her well the secrets of her own body. Too well….

      “When I made love to you in New York, it was like the first time, wasn’t it, Jen?”

      It had been better than the first time, that was the worst of it. In New York, she’d brought to Adam all the experience he himself had given her. Their passion had been all the more intense for its familiarity. But she needed more from a man than physical passion. Far more.

      She slipped away from him, furious at the tears pricking her eyelids. “Don’t do this, Adam,” she said, her voice shaking. She glanced away from him. They stood together among the trees, and Jen realized she would never find any neutral territory here. Her “no-man’s land” was an illusion. In Newport she would always be haunted by all the poignant memories of her time with Adam–the man she had once loved so desperately.

      “Leave it alone, Adam,” she said tautly, wishing she could return to New York this very instant.

      Instead, all she could do was retreat to the house where she’d never truly felt at home.

      * * *

      THERE WERE MANSIONS in Newport far grander even than the house where Jen had grown up. Tonight, for instance, she found herself wandering reluctantly about the spectacular edifice known as Hampton Court. Light from the chandeliers glittered on the marble fireplaces and gilded mirrors of the ballroom, and the ceiling frescoes and the carved wall panels only added to the atmosphere of exuberant Victorian excess. A hundred years ago, a wealthy society matron named Alda Hampton had thrown lavish parties here in her efforts to outdo other wealthy society matrons. This evening’s gathering was an echo of those splendid affairs. The house now belonged to friends of Jen’s mother, and they’d spared no expense in celebrating her impending marriage. At one end of the room, a chamber orchestra played on a dais. At the other end, tables had been laden with every variety of seafood: lobster, crab cakes, shrimp bisque, stuffed clams.

      Jen continued to wander on the outskirts of the party, sipping a glass of champagne. She wasn’t in the mood to socialize. She preferred smaller, more intimate gatherings, not large groups like this. But she knew that her uneasy mood couldn’t entirely be blamed on the noise and chatter that surrounded her. The way Adam kept getting under her skin was what really vexed her.

      At this very moment Adam was nearby, sharing a conversation with a group of people. As if sensing her gaze, he turned and glanced at her. It seemed to her that even from this distance, she could see a hint of mockery in his dark eyes. She couldn’t look away. One glance, and he had captured her. Her fingers tightened around the glass of champagne. But the fizz of warmth through her body had nothing to do with alcohol.

      “Having a good time, dear?” Beth Hillard appeared at Jen’s elbow, her gaze assessing.

      Jen finally dragged her eyes away from Adam’s. “You don’t need to worry about me, Mother. This is your celebration. Have fun.”

      “Yes, it’s so pleasant to have an unexpected party like this.” Beth was her usual immaculate self, hair perfectly waved, makeup expertly applied. Now she glanced about the crowded room with an air of contentment. “Ah, there’s Adam,” she said in a too-innocent voice. “He СКАЧАТЬ