Harte's Desire Part 17

"I don't understand, Connie. Who did this? And why didn't I know about it?" Libby moaned as the enormity of the situation finally sunk in.

Chris would never, ever have sanctioned restoration of any part of Harte's Desire. Sure, he helped out the Orphanage, but only because he felt an obligation to them. And his donation to the schoolhouse project was merely an outright bribe so he could have his way with the mansion. For him to restore even one wall was ludicrous, unthinkable, and totally out of character.

It must have been someone from the historical society willing to try a last-minute, albeit costly, effort to convince him to save the mansion. Libby remembered Edwina's comment about loving Harte's Desire, so she must surely have helped to orchestrate the transformation of the two rooms. With Chris back in Philadelphia, it would have been easy to do without his knowledge.

But why hadn't they let Libby know what they were up to? Maybe she'd been too vocal lately, and too adamant, about never wanting to see him, or the mansion, again. Hadn't she told Connie as much, on an almost daily basis, these past few weeks?

Chris must be furious, she reasoned. And rightly so. No wonder he'd brought in the wrecking crane and parked it so close to Harte's Desire. What better way to prove his clearly stated intention of razing her beloved mansion? He probably a.s.sumed she was behind this elaborate scheme, as well.

Suddenly she had no desire to confront him, and his fury, crane or no crane. It didn't matter anymore. She'd beat a hasty retreat and go home. Finish her movie and try to forget she'd ever fallen in love with him.

"He wants to see you," Connie stated gently, sensing the great emotional upheaval her boss was experiencing.

"Chris?" Libby confirmed, hoping she'd heard incorrectly.

Connie merely nodded her head, then added, "He's outside in the gazebo. You'll find him there."

"I really don't want to face him again, Connie."

"You have to. He insists you discuss this with him."

Libby took a deep breath as she prepared herself for the last, great showdown with the man she loved dearly but who obviously had nothing but great hatred for her.

"Is he mad?"

"I'd rather not say."

"That bad, huh?"

"You'll see."

Libby paused, frowning. "By the way, where is everybody? I was sure this place would be packed."

"It is!" Connie replied. "The ballroom is almost standing room only since that's where the food is. Lots of people are out on the porches, too." She observed Libby thoughtfully, noting her sad demeanor. "Cheer up, Lib! It's a huge success! You should be thrilled, and proud, of what you've done here."

Sensing Libby's reluctance, Connie took her hand and guided her out of the room. "Come on. Let's get out of here. All these roses are making my nose itch."

Libby eyed Connie speculatively as they wandered through the mansion. "Thanks for helping out tonight. You've been a savior, Connie. And it looks as though you got the electricity working again."

For a brief moment, Connie looked confused. "Oh,... yes, ah, it was a simple matter of overloaded fuses according to Jim Baxter. Which reminds me," she continued excitedly, "did you know it was his great-great grandfather who took those photos of Harte's Desire? We got to talking tonight. He said he's got a wonderful collection of photographs and promised me he'd look through them to see if there were any of Harte's Desire that weren't in the ones you have."

They pa.s.sed through another hallway and headed towards the ballroom. They were almost there when Connie held out a hand to stop Libby.

"Wait a minute, Lib. You can't go in there. Everyone is going to want to talk with you and it will be midnight 'til you get to the gazebo. Why don't you duck out the kitchen door?"

Nodding in agreement, Libby followed Connie through the gigantic kitchen filled with cooks, servers, and a vast array of delicious smelling foods. Libby's mouth watered and her stomach growled as she recalled how very little she'd eaten all day. Maybe after seeing Chris she would sneak back in for a bite to eat. If she still had an appet.i.te. She s.n.a.t.c.hed a few hot hors d'oeuvres off a serving tray and popped them into her mouth as she stepped through the back door Connie was holding open for her.

Libby took five steps before she realized the crane wasn't in the back yard, either. She quickly turned around and called out to Connie who will still watching from the open door.

"I thought you said there was a crane out here?"

"Chris will explain everything," Connie yelled back, pointing anxiously toward the gazebo before hurrying back into the kitchen.

Libby walked purposefully over the brick patio, carefully avoiding the cracks so she wouldn't catch her high heels in them. The last thing she wanted to do tonight was fall and make a complete spectacle of herself in front of Christopher Darnell and the historical society members.

Although the sun had set an hour ago, the night air was mild and filled with the delectable scent of roses from the bushes surrounding the patio. Every now and then a tendril of fresh, cooling air from the river swept by, carrying aloft its own pleasing fragrance of marsh and meadow. Libby noticed the stars were twinkling brightly overhead and a full moon had just begun to ascend the heavens. It was the perfect night for a party.

As Libby approached the gazebo, several of the ballroom's French doors opened. Couples spilled out onto the patio and immediately began dancing to the music being played in the ballroom. Notes from a slow, very romantic song washed over Libby, reminding her instantly of the one dance she and Chris had shared not so long ago. Resolving not to let her emotions interfere with the task at hand, Libby peered anxiously through the darkness at the gazebo looming ahead of her. As her heartbeat thundered in her ears, she worried about their impending encounter. What was she going to say to him?

Discerning a figure seated on one of the benches in the deep shadows under the gazebo, Libby darted up the three steps and approached him. Unsure of what to say. Unsettled by the riot of emotions tearing through her. Uncertain of what was about to happen next.

She was sure of one thing, though.

Despite the love she still felt for him, she was angry. Plenty angry. There was absolutely no reason for him to ruin her party with a crane and wrecking ball.

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

When Libby and Connie finally appeared at the back door, Chris sat fully upright, bruising his spine against the hard iron bench in a painful reminder of the less-than-comfortable seating offered under the gazebo. Muttering an expletive, he watched Libby step out onto the patio, glance around, then call something back to Connie. He couldn't hear what she said, but he imagined it had to do with the crane she was expecting to see in the yard there.

d.a.m.nation, but it had taken a lot to convince Libby to come over here, and even longer for her to finally arrive. Chris was sorry they had to lie to her, but it was the only way. She'd never come otherwise. He was worried nothing would make her return to Harte's Desire, but Connie handled the situation beautifully. Heck, if Connie weren't already working for Libby, he'd hire her himself.

As Libby gingerly crossed the patio, Chris drew in a sharp breath as he admired the beautiful picture she made. The strapless gown she wore was stunning, not only because its bright color emphasized her blonde curls, but also because it accentuated her perfect curves without looking overdone. He was thankful he'd followed Edwina's suggestion of ordering a wrist corsage-there was certainly no place decent on her dress to pin the other kind.

Nervously, he stroked one of the silken rose petals in the corsage he was holding, its softness reminding him of the feel of Libby's skin against his fingers. Apprehension clutched at his gut as he watched her approach.

Did she still love him? He hoped so. Or would she reject him like Cynthia had, quickly and cleanly, with no regrets?

He had to find out, even though it was a monumental gamble. He was used to taking risks. As a real estate developer, he did it all the time. But this sure beat even the most complicated negotiations he'd undertaken. Buildings could be replaced or repaired, but not broken hearts.

Libby's first thought was that Chris's date deserted him by the anxious way he was fingering a corsage clutched tightly between his strong hands. She could barely make out his features in the enveloping darkness, but by his stiff, tense posture, she imagined him to be angry and upset.

She stood at the top of the steps and faced him defiantly.

"Where's the crane?" she demanded.

"What crane?"

"The crane I was told you so conveniently parked back here." She gestured toward the carriage house. "The crane, complete with wrecking ball I might add, that you so thoughtlessly put on display for everyone to see tonight. A 'tiny misunderstanding' in the scheduling office? I doubt it, Chris! You probably ordered it yourself and specifically asked to have it delivered in time for the fundraiser."

She glared at him. "When you want revenge, you go all out, don't you?"

As hard as she tried, Libby couldn't read a reaction on Chris's shadowed face. He appeared to be waiting patiently for her to finish her tirade.

"There is no crane," he said softly.

"What do you mean there's no crane? I came all the way over here to have you tell me the crane doesn't exist?"

"That's right."

"Then I must be going crazy. What about the entrance hall and the Rose Room? Am I only imagining that they've been restored?" She rolled her eyes. "You've got to believe me, Mr. Darnell. Someone from the historical society must have done it. Not me. I had nothing to do with it. It was as great a shock to me as I'm sure it was to you."

"Actually, I'm utterly pleased with the restoration."

Chris rose from the bench and started toward Libby.

She threw her hands out abruptly.

"Don't even consider getting near me. I can't think clearly when you're close by, and right now I need every brain cell I own to figure this out."

Libby inhaled sharply when a beam of light from the mansion illuminated Chris's face as he turned to c.o.c.k his head at her. He was smiling. A warm, compelling, twinkle-in-the-eye kind of smile. The kind of smile she could get lost in. Libby quickly decided he was gloating on having the upper hand on her again.

More perplexed now than ever, Libby dropped her arms to her side and sighed in frustration.

"I really think I'm losing it! Let me see if I've got this right. There is no crane?"

"Correct."

"And you love the restoration?"

"Right again."

Libby looked at him in disbelief. If his intention was to have her thoroughly confused, then he was succeeding royally.

"What's going on here, Chris?" she probed.

"I didn't know how else to get you over here, Libby. I knew a crane with a wrecking ball was probably the only way."

"You're d.a.m.n right. It was the only reason I came. So, why am I here?"

"Why are you here?"

"Yes! Why get me over here?" She paused, her eyes glinting with restrained anger. "I finished your b.l.o.o.d.y report and confessed my sins. Any business between us is finished as far as I'm concerned."

"I'd like to think we're just getting started."

"You still didn't answer me. Why am I here?"

"I, ah, wanted your professional opinion about the first two rooms to be restored in the conference center."

"In the conference center?" she repeated slowly, still not believing what she was hearing. "Now I know I'm dreaming."

"It's my dream, too, Libby. In fact, I've got lots of dreams I want to share with you. If you'd given me half a chance the other week in my office, you would have heard all about them."

In four quick steps, Chris crossed the wooden floor to stand directly in front of her. Before she could protest, he picked up her left arm and slipped the corsage on her wrist.

"And I can a.s.sure you that you're not leaving this gazebo tonight until you've listened to each and every word I have to say." He tenderly cupped both of his hands around hers, then reached up to do the same with her face.

"I love you Libby Chatham, or Elizabeth Reed, or whatever your name is. I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you in the Rose Room. But I fought my feelings for you every step of the way."

Chris gently stroked her cheeks with the backs of his hands, sending s.h.i.+vers down Libby's spine.

"How could I fall in love with the very woman who'd bested me on every old building I ever wanted to tear down? How could I be so crazy about this beautiful, determined young lady who devised the perfect solution for Harte's Desire? Do you know that I'd been struggling for weeks to find a way to make this conference center different from all the others? But when you first suggested using Harte's Desire, I couldn't see it. Didn't want to consider it. You know I'm not fond of old buildings."

He looked away, into the darkness, as if the right words to say were written there.

"I guess they reminded me of my youth spent in an old, forlorn place, or of the old money heritage that was Cynthia Moran's since birth."

His hands trailed through her silky hair, down her soft, slender neck and came to rest on her shoulders. Libby said nothing, held captive by the impa.s.sioned speech he was giving. She was wholly mesmerized by the gentle, loving touch of his hands on her body and the thrilling reaction they elicited. Yet, she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Then somehow you made me understand how important the Orphanage was, not only because of its architecture but because of the hope and love so many children found there. You see, I found lots of love there, too."

"Still, I fought you on Harte's Desire. Out of revenge? The bottom line? My stubborn refusal to acknowledge the worth of any historic building? Maybe all those reasons."

"But after we made such beautiful love, Libby, I suddenly knew those were all the wrong reasons to tear it down. I'd made a terrible mistake. I knew, without a doubt, that I had to save and restore this old place not only because it made sense, but because I love you beyond all logic. Maybe then I could convince you how deep my feelings are for you."

"I wanted to tell you all this after I arrived in London but you wouldn't return my calls. And when you came to my office, I couldn't get a word in edgewise, you were so h.e.l.l-bent on confessing your ident.i.ty to me."

Two warm, salty tears trickled down Libby's cheeks as she remembered her single-minded determination to get rid of him after their wonderful night of intimacy.

Chris took her hands in his.

"I love you, Libby," he said gently, his voice a silky caress.

Tears welled in Libby's eyes as she heard the compa.s.sion and sincerity in Chris's voice.

"Oh, Chris, I love you too," she whispered, squeezing his hand in rea.s.surance. "And after we made love, I was sure of it. But I never dreamt you loved me, too. Oh darling, can you ever forgive me for deceiving you so?"

Libby pulled him close, into her arms, savoring the warmth and comfort of his powerfully built body as it melded with hers.

Chris bent down and spoke to her softly. "We're both guilty of deception, Libby. But that's all in the past now. What matters is what we choose to make of today. And tomorrow, and the days following."

Libby pulled back and gazed up in wonder at the magnetic blue-green eyes searching hers hopefully. In the dim light she could see a hesitancy there, as if she would judge him and find him wanting.

"My love," she began, feeling her throat constrict with the emotions so long denied. "I don't care what has happened between us before this. It's not important to me who your parents were, or even who you've loved--or hated--in the past. What matters is that I love you with all my heart. And I always will."

"Then I want you to help me restore Harte's Desire and make it into the conference center you envisioned it could be," Chris said, running his fingers lightly through her hair.

"Restoring this place could take a long time..." Libby murmured, her voice trailing off as his touch eliciting a thousand emotions.

"And if it does, I want us to do it together, sweet Libby."