The Tempestuous Lovers by Suzanne Simmons

Author:Suzanne Simmons [Simmons, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Century
Published: 1984-01-01T13:00:00+00:00

“This is Oceanside!” The girl’s gay laughter floated on the night breeze. “From the way dear Jenny spoke of it I envisioned a modest summer cottage, not a three-story mansion.” Nicki stood looking up at the gabled, English Tudor edifice surrounded by immaculate lawns and shrubs, its numerous windows ablaze with light. “It’s magnificent!”

“But beneath that happy, confident mask that Jenny wears is just another ‘poor little rich girl’ who is afraid she won’t be loved for herself, but her money,” David said. “She’ll inherit a bundle on her next birthday and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the first thing she did was give it all away. At least then she could go to Rod and let him see that she’s in love with him and she’d find out soon enough how he feels about her. I think he’s crazy about her, myself, but the guy is proud and he’ll never have the kind of money Jenny comes from. If she gives the money away Rod will know for sure that it doesn’t matter to her. Then I wouldn’t be surprised if our two friends tied the knot before the year’s out.”

“So—it was Rod she was talking about! Oh, I hope it all works out for them, David.”

“They won’t be able to say the same for you and me, will they, golden-girl?”

“David, you promised!”

“So I did. It’s just that I’m crazy about you and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“I know the feeling.”

“We’re a fine pair of fools, my love. Come on . . . here we stand at the front door, let’s go in and join the party. I can hear the band playing and at least while we’re dancing I get to hold you in my arms.”

“You’re incorrigible, young Mr. Trumbull.” She smiled at him fondly.

“Hey, are you two lovebirds going to stay out there all night or are you going to come in and join the crowd?” a gay voice called from the open door.

“We’re coming—I was just pointing out the architectural wonders of Oceanside to this sweet young thing,” David chuckled.

“Sure!” came a second voice. “Sounds like Trumbull to me,” the voice said to its companion. “His lines are as ancient as the Parthenon, yet trite and unoriginal as they may be, they always seem to work for him. Beats me how he does it!”

“Hey, Nicki . . .” David’s voice was low.

“It’s all right, David. I wish you were just handing me a line.” She slipped her arm through his in an empathetic gesture. “Isn’t it about time for our big entrance, sir?”

“Good evening, miss, Mister David,” greeted the formally attired butler with a slight inclination of his bald head. Nicki caught her breath as they entered the Stewarts’ home, for the vestibule was dominated by a magnificent ornate chandelier. It lit up the marble-floored entrance hall like a thousand small suns.

“Good evening, Wadkins. Is Miss Jenny out in back?”

“Yes, sir. Everyone is out on the south patio, if you’d care to join them.

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