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Venus in Love Page 5


  *

  Morgan felt the warmth rise rapidly between her legs as her knees trembled and heart pounded in her chest. Morgan opened her mouth, allowing Lee’s tongue to meld with hers. When Lee released her lips, they were both panting and breathless. Morgan felt as if her whole world was spinning. Her heart continued to hammer in her chest and her body felt molten. Morgan was thankful of Lee’s firm embrace that kept her from slipping to the ground when her legs liquefied.

  Lee didn’t release Morgan. Instead, she looked into her eyes with an unmistakable hunger. “I would like to see you again. Soon.”

  Morgan’s stomach flipped, but she didn’t hesitate to say, “Come with me. Tomorrow. To the opening, as my guest.”

  Lee grinned at the unintentional overtone. She dipped her head into Morgan’s neck and softly whispered, “I would be truly honored.”

  Morgan groaned as her entire body thrummed with excitement. She wanted Lee to come up with her. Her senses were on overdrive, and she no longer had control over herself. It scared her. Morgan had never had a one-night stand.

  Before Morgan could ask, Lee pulled away and ran her thumb lightly over Morgan’s bottom lip and kissed her once more quickly. Morgan felt both disappointed and relieved. She thanked Lee for the beautiful evening as Lee stepped away.

  Once Morgan was safe inside her apartment, she leaned against the door and touched her fingers to her lips.

  Chapter Six

  Morgan stood in her bedroom staring at the charcoal gown lying across her bed. She had picked this dress weeks earlier as the one she would wear to the opening. It was amazing, and she had spent more money on this one dress than she had ever spent on a single outfit. She was grateful beyond words when she got the surprise check from home with a very stern note about how this money was to be spent on nothing but the dress. Morgan had been excited to finally wear it, and now the excitement had doubled knowing that Lee was going to see her in it.

  “You are gonna knock her dead in this,” Morgan said to the empty room.

  It was ten after five when Morgan began styling her hair and applying her makeup. She needed to be certain she was ready when Lee arrived at seven o’clock. The opening wasn’t until eight, but Morgan had chilled a bottle of champagne to share with Lee and toast this big moment in her life. Part of Morgan saw it as toasting their blossoming friendship as well.

  Two hours to get ready seemed excessive to Morgan, who could usually get up, showered, dressed, and out the door in mere minutes. But she was strangely nervous and used this as a distraction to fill her time. She swept her hair into a long and loose ponytail with a slight top poof that accentuated her neck in the strapless gown. She tamed curls that flowed down the middle of her back into long, smooth ringlets. As she ran her fingers through her hair, she imagined Lee releasing the clip that held her hair back and running her strong hands through the strands just as she did the night before. But this time, she could almost feel Lee’s breath on her neck and her soft lips leaving kisses across her collarbone.

  Once she finished her hair and makeup, she had just enough time to slip into her dress and change her shoes three more times. She ultimately settled on her first choice, a pair of black, strappy sandals that gave her an extra three inches in height. She thought they were the perfect height to bring her eyes into alignment with Lee’s. As she admired herself in the mirror, she couldn’t wait to see the look on Lee’s face when she arrived. It truly was a beautiful dress that reminded her of Lee’s hair. Now that she was ready, the time slowed to a crawl and she was going nearly crazy with anticipation. She hoped that Lee would arrive early.

  *

  Lee checked herself in the mirror again. She knew what she looked like and she was pleased. One of the things that Lee could control in her life was the crispness of a shirt and the perfect fit of a suit. Although the excitement Morgan was already bringing to her life was exhilarating, Lee was still apprehensive about letting herself go completely. She was no longer the carefree college girl, but there was a part of her that felt if that girl still existed somewhere deep inside, Morgan would be the one to bring her out. Lee patted the pockets of her Armani suit for all of her essentials, wallet, keys, ChapStick, and cell phone.

  “And we’re off.”

  Just as Lee shut her front door and headed to the elevator, her cell phone rang. “Ainsley Dencourt at your service.” She answered the phone without even looking at the caller ID; she was soaring.

  “Ms. Dencourt. This is Henry. I’m calling…it’s your mother, ma’am.”

  Lee was instantly dizzy and reached for the nearest wall as her knees began to buckle under her. She felt the nausea rise in her throat as she tried desperately to subdue it. She felt the world closing in around her, like a jet-black cloak over her eyes. She broke into a cold sweat. “Henry, please…please don’t. Not again, please.”

  “Lee, listen to me. Your mother has been admitted to Inova Loudoun. The hospital. She was having some pain in her chest. She is stable, but she has asked for you. You need to come home Lee. I suggest as soon as possible.” There was silence on both sides. “Miss Dencourt?”

  Lee struggled to breathe and gasped for air. “Henry, is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay.”

  “She’s stable and alert and she has asked for you. That’s all I know at this point I’m afraid. When should I tell her you’re arriving?” He was anxious for an answer.

  Lee tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling trying with all her might to prevent the tears that threatened. There was no time for crying. She needed to maintain the upper hand even over her emotions. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be home in nine hours. Henry? Tell her I love her, please?”

  “Of course, kiddo. See you soon.”

  *

  Morgan stood and paced the floor again. It was quarter past seven. She needed to be at the museum in thirty minutes, and Lee had not yet arrived. She had hoped Lee would arrive early, but now she was worried she wasn’t going to arrive at all. She didn’t know how much longer she could or should wait. She usually walked the few blocks from her apartment to the museum, but she didn’t think it was such a great idea considering that it took about thirty minutes when she wasn’t in heels and an evening gown.

  At 7:25 p.m., Morgan went across the hall to her neighbor’s apartment and knocked on the door. She prayed that Bette was home tonight. When her neighbor answered the door, she begged her for a ride. After Bette was dressed, they met in the hallway and made their way downstairs. Morgan still hoped that Lee would be walking in as they were walking out. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Bette dropped Morgan off at the side entrance so Morgan could sneak in unnoticed. When she finally made her way to a very full reception and a very nervous curator, it was five to eight.

  “I am so very sorry, Madame Dautry. I think I was stood up.” She vaguely explained the situation, the high points anyway. How she waited too long for a date that never arrived or called and how she begged her neighbor, who is practically a stranger, to drive her the few blocks so she wasn’t late to the most important evening in her career. By the time she finished explaining her night thus far, she was both winded and beyond pissed.

  How could Lee do this to her? She knew how important this night was to Morgan, didn’t she? Then her anger turned to fear. What if something terrible happened since they’d parted the night before? She could be hurt or missing. Morgan had an unreasonable tendency to worry, apparently, even about strangers.

  “You don’t know a brush-off when you see it, Morgan?”

  Madame Dautry, who was standing next to Morgan, but engaged in another conversation, said, “What, dear?”

  “Nothing, ma’am.”

  “Okay then, darling, it’s time to show the world the Blake and Cranach masterpiece.”

  *

  Lee stared out the window of the private jet she had chartered to take her home. It was outlandishly expensive, but the next flight home to D.C. wasn’t for another three hours, and it would have
taken two layovers and nearly sixteen hours before she would arrive home. She wasn’t willing to waste that much time. She picked up the in-flight telephone to call the museum. Maybe she could get in touch with Director Foillot and reach Morgan that way. Instead of dialing, she returned the receiver. What would she tell him? I’m calling to get a hold of one of your interns to apologize for standing her up? “Dammit!” She slammed her head back into the seat. It’s what she got for letting herself get careless. She knew better, and now more than ever before she vowed it would never happen again. Never.

  She thought about Morgan for most of the flight and about how she’d left her without any notice on such an important day in her life. Lee wondered what Morgan chose to wear and how she styled her beautiful hair. She even pondered what would have happened after the opening. Would they have gone back to her flat or Morgan’s and spent hours making out or making love? The thought alone sparked the beginning of a delicious fantasy. But it was the part where she imagined Morgan’s anger and sadness at being so heartlessly abandoned and how she had left her beautiful Venus waiting alone and innocent for a date that would never come that tore her heart out. Her mind told her it was all for the best, since after today her life would no longer be her own and Morgan deserved better. Yet try as she might, her heart felt otherwise.

  Chapter Seven

  Lee arrived at the airport shortly after one in the morning. As she stood in the valet waiting for her car, she thought about Morgan again. She thought about how beautiful she was certain Morgan had looked the night before. Lee told herself that she needed to let it go. Yet she couldn’t help but tell herself that as soon as she saw her mother she would find a way to contact Morgan and apologize. She owed her that at least, even if she couldn’t give her anything else. It was just the right thing to do.

  The fifty-minute drive to the hospital felt longer than the flight home. So much was going through Lee’s mind she wasn’t even certain how long it had taken her to get there. She quickly parked and sprinted across the parking lot. She had lost so much time during travel, and she was scared to death that she missed a chance to say good-bye to her mother.

  When she finally reached the reception desk, it took nearly a minute for her to acquire the nerve to ask for her mother’s room. The desk clerk looked at her through tired eyes. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and she hoped she wasn’t going to have to fight the woman to get in after visiting hours. Lee hesitated when the woman asked if she could help her. Lee didn’t know if she was prepared to hear that her mother was no longer in a room.

  “Mrs. Clara Dencourt’s room…please.” The question was more of a plea for comfort.

  “And you are?” the nurse asked.

  “Her daughter…Ainsley Dencourt,” Lee stated proudly.

  “Yes, ma’am. Mrs. Dencourt is in room 229, in CICU.” Before the woman finished giving directions, Lee was already heading toward the elevator, thankful for a name that allowed for special consideration in nearly every circumstance. Lee wished that this particular circumstance wasn’t one of them.

  She was less relieved than she thought she’d be at hearing her mother was still in the cardiac unit. On her way to room 229, Lee steeled herself for whatever condition her mother may be in. When she reached the room, the door was closed and the sounds of beeping, buzzing, and swishing around her did little to quiet the pounding of her heart. Lee knocked quickly and entered the room.

  *

  Morgan got to her office at her usual time. However, unlike usual, Director Foillot and Madame Dautry were waiting for her when she arrived.

  “Mademoiselle Blake, it’s great to see you again.” Director Foillot glowed strangely.

  “Likewise, monsieur. I hope everything is okay.”

  “Absolutely, Morgan. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard this morning. I simply had to come and praise you for the phenomenal work you did with the Cranach exhibit. It is truly inspired. You have an extraordinary talent, and it will be a great loss to us at the end of your tenure here. I want you to know that I will personally recommend you for any position that will showcase your talents and visions.”

  “I…Director Foillot…I’m speechless. Thank you very much.” Morgan’s eyes filled with tears as the overwhelming sense of accomplishment enveloped her.

  “I also wanted to apologize for imposing on your work to give a museum tour. It now seems to me that it was far beneath your caliber for me to have insisted.”

  Morgan was flooded with mixed emotions about the tour. She had met an amazing woman, and for the first time she felt connected to another human being. She thought about using this moment to ask if he had heard from Lee, but instead she allowed the opportunity to pass in hopes that her freshly wounded heart would heal quickly. “It was my pleasure, sir. I will never tire of teaching others about what I love so much.”

  *

  Lee entered the room expecting anything but what she saw. Her mother was dressed casually, well, as casually as one would expect of Clara Dencourt. She was sitting comfortably on the hospital bed talking with Henry about house duties. Lee stopped just inside the doorway as relief settled through her entire body. The tension subsided so quickly that she felt unsteady on her feet.

  “Mother?” Lee looked from Henry to her mother, confusion warring with relief. She’d expected to see her mother in a gown hooked up to oxygen and intravenous fluids with wires and leads crisscrossing over her chest. Yet there was none of that. Lee reached out for the wall to balance herself.

  Her mother looked at her. When recognition registered, her face lit up. “Ainsley, darling. Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad to see you. It seems I had a bit of a scare.”

  “What? A scare? You mean—Are you all right?” Lee edged over to the bed and glanced at Henry for reinforcement. Tears stung her eyes, and she braced herself on the bed rail to keep herself from succumbing to the vertigo that hit her.

  “Well, yes and no. It seems that I have a combination of angina and excessive stress, basically. The doctor says that it may be time to retire, enjoy my senior years.”

  “Stress? Retire? What are you saying?” Lee asked, still clutching the rail, hoping that this was just a very realistic and bizarre nightmare and that at any moment she would wake up and be on her way to Morgan.

  “Sweetheart, come here.” Her mother motioned for Lee to sit with her. “Lee, I’m tired. I’ve been doing this for a long time. When your father was still here, all of our time was devoted to his dream. I loved him and I only wanted to be near him, even if it was while he was working. We missed a lot of opportunities to just enjoy each other, alone. When he died, I did what I knew. I devoted myself to his dream.”

  “So what about his dream now? Are you just going to give it up?” Lee was growing angry at her mother’s selfishness.

  “No, Lee. I’m fulfilling his dream and my own.”

  “By retiring? That doesn’t make sense, Mother. Henry, what is she talking about?” Lee begged him for a translation. Giving up her work at the gallery would never have been his dream. Who was she kidding?

  Her mother took Lee’s hand in hers. “Ainsley, look at me. Your father’s dream was to have the gallery live on through you. My dream was to retire and live the rest of my life with your father at the country house. It’s time that you begin taking your place at the gallery and for me to retire to the country.”

  Lee thought she was going to hyperventilate. This wasn’t happening. She had tried and succeeded at keeping her life organized, and now it was all unraveling. “But I can’t. I don’t know…I can’t do it without him, without you.” Lee’s eyes blurred with stinging tears. Lowering her head, she couldn’t hold them back any longer.

  Her mother pulled Lee’s chin up. “Of course you can. You were born into this. He taught you everything he knew. It’s time, Lee.”

  Lee let the tears fall. She knew her mother was right. She owed it to him, to both of them. She knew she did. She just didn’t think she was strong enough to h
andle both the unexpected and the inevitable at the same time. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. This was her responsibility. She needed to take over “All right, I’ll try.”

  Chapter Eight

  As Morgan waited at the luggage carousel, she could hardly believe that her last two months in Paris went by so quickly. The Paris art world and beyond was abuzz with reviews for the Cranach exhibition. She had received two calls for positions at museums in the United States; however, neither could offer her the artistic freedom she had experienced while abroad. She couldn’t imagine that Director Foillot had downplayed her talent when they had called for his recommendation. So she was at a loss as to why each venue was far more interested in her before his input than they were afterward. She was good at her job. She just wanted a chance.

  After she pulled her fifth and final bag from the belt, she heard the voice of a woman screaming her name. She was hardly surprised when she turned and recognized her mother sprinting through the terminal. Her normally subdued father wasn’t trailing far behind. As sad as she was to leave Paris, Morgan couldn’t help but be overjoyed at the sight of her parents. She hadn’t realized until now how much she had missed them.

  Morgan threw her arms around her mother and stared at her father over one shoulder. He was a little grayer now, but otherwise he was just as handsome as ever. Once he was within reach, she pulled him into the hug and reveled in the comfort of their embrace. She was glad to be home.