Chapter Eight
The advantages to a private jet were sweeter with a woman. Making love mid-flight, and finding a few hours of sleep, should have left them both rested and relaxed as they made their descent. Sadly, he could sense Samantha’s unease and did everything in his power to distract her.
He booked a night at a hotel near the airport, with intentions of joining his family at Albany the following day.
His family had other ideas.
The jet landed in the early morning hours, although for Samantha and Blake, it was very late in the evening. Blake could tell by Sam wrestling her hands that her nerves were on high alert.
He kept his arm around Sam’s shoulders as they stepped out of the jet. At his suggestion, she’d slipped into a comfortable pair of worn jeans and a long sleeve shirt. “No need to dress for the driver of the car,” he’d told her, assuring her they would have time to sleep, shower, and dress properly before facing anyone of importance.
Yet when the car he’d ordered pulled up alongside the plane, and the back door opened, his mother’s high-heeled foot stopped both Blake and Samantha cold.
“You said we weren’t expecting anyone at the airport,” she hissed between thin lips.
“We aren’t.”
There was no denying his mother’s frame as she slid from the back seat of the limousine. The driver held an umbrella over her head to keep the droplets of rain from ruining what a hairdresser had probably spent hours creating.
Despite her previous, horrible marriage, Linda Harrison could have passed for a woman ten years her junior. Dark umber hair was pulled gracefully back under a stylish hat. The long grey coat covered what Blake knew would be a slim-fitting skirt and blouse. His mother always dressed to perfection. Even though the sun was hidden under a thick layer of clouds, his mother wore a pair of large rimmed sunglasses to hide her eyes and the feelings she might reveal under them.
“Then who’s that?”
Blake swallowed. If there was one thing he’d learned about his wife, it was her insecurity. Despite all her ‘shake her fist at you’ attitude, Samantha had an underlying desire to be accepted.
He knew, without a doubt, that his suggestion for her to change out of her silk pantsuit and into comfortable clothes was going to snap him in the ass later.
“That’s my mother.”
Sam’s steps faltered, but Blake kept her moving by the steady pressure of his hand on her back.
“But…”
“Mum?” Blake removed his hand from Samantha’s back long enough to kiss both his mother’s cheeks. “We weren’t expecting you.” His tone was light, but he hoped he relayed his discontent.
“I couldn’t let you and your bride arrive without a welcome.”
Blake returned to Samantha’s side and pushed her forward. “Samantha, my mother, Linda. Mum, I’d like you to meet my wife, Samantha.”
His mother let a smile lift her lips. “A pleasure,” she said, raising her hand to Samantha’s.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Is that so? I’ve heard nearly nothing about you.”
Samantha stiffened beside him and Blake quickly stepped between the two women. “We’re here to fix that,” he told his mother. “You didn’t have to meet us here. You know how long the flight is from the States.”
Linda patted Blake’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to rest in flight.”
“We’ve been very busy up until our trip, as I’m sure you can imagine. We’re looking forward to a few hours sleep.”
His mother glanced at the driver holding the umbrella over her head and then to the car. “Then we should get you home to do so.”
Blake felt his control starting to snap. The worse part was that Samantha said absolutely nothing. She simply stared between the two of them, lips sealed. “I’ve arranged a room at The Plaza.”
“That’s silly—“
“Mother!” He’d had enough.
“Linda? You don’t mind if I call you Linda, do you?” Samantha had found her voice.
“Of course not, dear.”
“Good. As you can see, I’m in desperate need of a shower, and some sleep. I hope you’ll be so kind as to wait our departure to Albany once Blake and I have had the opportunity to put some of that nasty jet-lag behind us.” Samantha’s tone and words were more formal than Blake had ever heard uttered previously from her lips.
“I suppose you’re right.”
Samantha grasped onto Blake’s arm and leaned into him. “It really is nice of you to greet me here. You’ve no idea what that means to me.”
Again, Blake was at a loss for words. He led his wife and mother into the back of the car and joined them.
The second the car door closed, Samantha snuggled closer to Blake’s side. “That is a lovely coat,” Sam told his mother.
“T-Thank you.”
“I hope you’ll tell me where you got it. I’m afraid I’ve nothing like it and from the looks of the sky, I’ll need something like it for my trip.”
“Of course. We’ll have plenty of time to shop.”
Blake’s worry over his mother’s untimely arrival started to fade. “My wife and my mother shopping. Should I be worried?” he teased.
“That depends,” Samantha said.
“On?”
“If your sister joins us. Three women with an open credit card are positively dangerous.”