Red Roses Mean Love

'Oh, yes I can!' Hayley ran after her, nearly catching the child. 'You won't escape this time!'

Callie squealed with delight and darted toward the patio. Hayley followed in hot pursuit. He watched their antics and a feeling, a longing, he couldn't describe tugged at him, seeping through his veins. What would it have been like to have a childhood filled with games and laughter? Hugs and smiles? He only needed to look at Callie's face, shining with happiness, to know it was wonderful. Hayley was an excellent mother to her sibling brood, and if his suspicions regarding her occupation proved correct, she loved them with an unselfish depth he wouldn't have believed existed.

His gaze sought her out, following her as she chased her energetic sister, pretending to catch her. Her hair had come undone, and shiny chestnut curls flew behind her in wild disarray as she ran. His throat tightened. She was so damn beautiful. A fascinating combination of wild innocence.

But it was no longer just her lovely face that captivated him. It was her inner beauty. Her loving touches and easy smiles. Her giving heart, her patient strength. If only things were different-

He ruthlessly cut off the thought. Things were not different, and he needed to remember that.

Their laughter grew louder. Callie sprinted toward the house, but just before they reached the terrace steps, Hayley caught her from behind and swung her up in her arms.

'Caught you!' Hayley announced. 'I caught the poppet!' She covered Callie's face with exuberant kisses and the child's happy giggles filled the air.

Stephen cleared his throat, both to make them aware of his presence and to dislodge the lump of emotion clogged there. Two identical pairs of aqua eyes turned toward him.

His gaze locked with Hayley's, and his pulse galloped away. She was flushed from exertion, her skin blooming bright with color. His attention wandered down to her mouth-that full, alluring mouth that beckoned him like a siren's call, tempting him to forget where they were and kiss her until he'd had his fill. He knew she'd read his thoughts when her smile faltered and her lips trembled. He could almost hear her whispering, Yes, I want you to kiss me. He could almost feel the touch of her mouth, the taste of her tongue.

'Mr. Barrettson!' Callie scrambled from Hayley's arms and ran to him. 'We're playing 'catch the poppet'! I'm the poppet.'

Her excited voice broke through his sensual reverie. He glanced down at her beaming face and couldn't help but return her smile. 'Indeed you are. And I see you were caught.'

'That's the best part,' she confided in a conspiratorial whisper.

His gaze swung back to Hayley. 'Yes, I imagine it is.'

'Would you like to play with us?'

Before Stephen could answer, Hayley said, 'Callie, all that running about might injure Mr. Barrettson's shoulder or ribs. He can join us in a game in a week or two, when he's fully healed.'

'Perhaps,' Stephen murmured, a feeling of heavy gloom settling over him.

After tomorrow he'd probably never see her again.

Tell her. Tell her now. But he looked into her smiling, happy face and could not make his mouth form the words.

Later. I'll tell her later.

* * *

'May I speak to you privately, Hayley?'

Hayley paused on her way into the house. Stephen leaned against the terrace railing, ankles crossed, arms folded across his chest. The warm breeze ruffled his hair, and the sun glinted in the ebony strands. Dear God, her throat ached just looking at him. After scooting Callie inside with the promise of reading her a story after dinner, Hayley turned to him, ready to smile, but his somber gaze stilled her. She looked down and noticed he held a Gentleman's Weekly in his hand. A sense of foreboding prickled her skin.

'Is something wrong, Stephen?'

He regarded her with an unreadable expression. 'I don't know how to ask this other than simply to ask. What is your connection to H. Tripp?'

His words shifted the ground beneath her feet and she locked her knees to steady herself. She felt the blood drain from her face, but she tried her best to hide her stunned distress. 'I beg your pardon?'

'H. Tripp. The author. How are you associated with him?'

Hayley's mind spun, frantically searching for the proper words to say. How much did he know? And how on earth had he found out? Swallowing her dismay, praying her voice remained steady, she asked, 'Why would you think I have any connection to him?'

Instead of answering, he opened the magazine and read,

…when each of my five were born, the missus and I looked at them and recalled the moment we'd made them… named them all based on where we'd loved. Good thing it was never by a stream or the poor thing would have been called 'Atwater!'

He closed the magazine. 'I'm sure you understand my question now.'

Weakness wobbled her legs and she sank into a wrought-iron chair. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She'd guarded her secret for so long, she didn't know how to respond. And if Stephen had figured it out, how long before other people did? If she lost her income … she clenched her hands together until her knuckles whitened. That simply could not happen. She wouldn't let it. But under the circumstances, there was no point in attempting to lie to Stephen.

Drawing a resolute breath, she squarely met his gaze. 'I am H. Tripp.'

She'd expected her admission to upset him, or disgust him, but he merely nodded.

'Does anyone else know?'

'No. The publisher demands absolute secrecy-'

'With good reason,' he broke in.

'Yes.' She searched his eyes for some clue of his feelings, but his expression remained unreadable. 'When Papa died, we desperately needed money. I refused to leave the children to take a governess or companion post. The income I receive from Gentleman's Weekly allows me to provide for them here.' She rubbed her moist palms on her skirt. 'I'm sure you're quite scandalized-'

'I'm not.'

She waited for him to say more, but he remained silent. He might not be scandalized, but it seemed apparent he didn't approve. And the possibility of her secret becoming common knowledge filled her with dread. 'I hope you will please consider not telling anyone about this. My livelihood depends on retaining my anonymity.'

'I have no intention of doing anything that could harm your employment, Hayley. I shall not reveal your secret. You have my word.'

Relief flooded her and she released a pent-up breath she hadn't even realized she held. 'Thank you. I-'

'You're welcome. Please excuse me.'

Before she could say another word, he opened the French windows and entered the house. Hayley stared after him and bit her bottom lip to stop its trembling.

Though he'd said nothing further, his abrupt, cold departure said it all.

SHAPE * MERGEFORMAT

Chapter 18

Stephen sat through dinner that evening stealing glances at Hayley, who blushed every time their eyes met. He tried to keep his mind on the chatter around him, but it proved impossible. His thoughts kept alternating between the amazing discovery that Hayley was H. Tripp, and the conversation he knew he had to have with her about his upcoming departure from Halstead.

Nathan joined the family, and as he was the center of attention after his fall, Stephen wasn't required to say very much. Which was just as well.

Hayley sat next to him, garbed in a plain gown. Although she talked to everyone, Stephen thought she seemed