Chapter 2

Diana felt anticipation growing within her as Michael wheeled their small, fully packed MGB down the narrow road. Outside, the moss-laden cypresses of the bayou country blurred by. She reached out and lovingly squeezed her husband's thigh. He glanced at her, smiled, then returned his eyes to the winding road.

Michael had been uneasy about this visit to his parents home, afraid she would be offended by the interruption of their honeymoon, which would eventually end up in Mexico City for a week, before Michael took over a position in a small Houston advertising firm.

But the trip was necessary, she had assured him. He had some money tied up in a trust, which was now needed to buy in as a partner of the firm. The business deal was too important to pass by! And besides, she was looking forward to meeting the Hightower family.

"Hold on and watch out for 'gators," Michael cut into her thoughts, as he turned off the highway onto a small asphalt road. "It's about five miles up this way."

Diana slipped the clasp from her purse and retrieved the needed brush and lipstick to prepare herself for her first encounter with her new in-laws.

"Don't worry," Michael threw her a broad grin. "You're beautiful... as always."

She chuckled, "I love you, too. But first impression and best foot forward, you know."

"No problem. They'll love you," he assured her. "I just hope you'll like..."

"Relax, I know I'll like them," she broke in, as she straightened her clothing and pressed the wrinkles from her skirt with her palms. "Especially if they're anything like you."

"I give up. A woman in love is blind," he grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "Just remember, the Hightowers are a bit eccentric."

"I'll remember," she grimmaced. "You make it sound as if I was walking into some grisly scene straight out of a Gothic novel."

"It's not quite that bad..." he laughed, "... but the Hightower family is just a little bit different and somewhat weird."

"You can't scare me off now, Michael Hightower!" she returned in mock anger. "I've read all those tales of werewolves and vampires. And I've come equipped with a silver bullet and wooden stake!"

His laughter increased, "Okay! You win! No more!"

Then he continued, carrying her joke a step further, "Just remember, Grandma sacrifices virgins at midnight every night in the basement!"

"Virgins, hmmmmm?" she slid her hand up to the crotch of his jeans and allowed her fingers to tease along the sleeping bulge of his cock. "No worry there for me, is there!"

"You keep that up, woman, and I'll have to pull over to the side-of the road and rape your young body!" he grinned, easing her tempting fingers away.

"Promises, promises," she sighed, a wistful look in her eyes.

"Patience, my dear," he answered in a Bela Lugosi imitation, "ven night come, so vill you!"

Suddenly, she scooted to the edge of her seat and leaned over. Her teeth lightly nipped at his neck and she sucked loudly.

"I vant to suck your co..." she started.

"Greedy, bitch!" his palm slapped sharply on the exposed cheek of her skirt-covered rump.

"Ouch!" she whelped, pouting as she withdrew back into her seat.

He grinned at her, "On your best behavior, wench; we're here."

Before them on the road, which apparently was nothing more than one hell of a long driveway, stood a massive stone wall. A wrought iron gate, complete with arch and a swirling Old English "H" in an intricate circle, was open. Slowing down, Michael eased the sports car through the narrow passage. No longer was the surrounding country the tangled jungle of bayou undergrowth, but a plush carpet of green grass. No, she decided, lawn was more like it, well-manicured with landscaped shrubs growing around towering magnolia trees.

"Welcome to the Hightower Estate," Michael waved one of his hands to scene stretched before them.

"Michael, you didn't tell me... it's beautiful," she exclaimed with obvious delight.

"Up ahead is the Hightower home." he smiled pleased with her reaction.

"Home? Mansion is more like it!" She stared at the white brick, two-story house set back among the flowering trees.

"This is an old plantation my father found and restored several years ago," her husband explained. "He liked the isolation it offered."

The road widened into a circular driveway that led to the front of the Hightower mansion. Michael wheeled around and before the immense structure.

The place is authentic, just like the Old South," he continued. "Like it?"

"Like it? It's fantastic" she muttered, somewhat in shock by the unexpected mansion.

She found herself mumbling dumbfoundedly, "Michael, why didn't you tell me that..."

"That my family has some money?" he smiled.

She nodded, unable to find the appropriate words.

"It didn't seem to matter... with you," he leaned over and tenderly kissed her. "Does it?"

"No, you big, beautiful idiot!" she grinned, throwing her arms around his neck and planting a loud wet kiss on his lips. "No, it didn't matter. But please don't mind if I'm excited as hell about it! Not to mention nervous!"

"Nervous?" he grinned. "Don't worry. They'll love you!"

"But?"

"But nothing. The Hightowers may be a tad bit strange, but we really live rather simple," he reassured her. "That's what money's all about. It lets you live in the style you want."

She shook her head, still unbelieving, and started to speak, but Michael announced, "Here they come. Time to meet your in- laws."

She glanced to the house and saw a man walking briskly toward the car. With a last few brushes at her skirt, Diana took a deep breath, opened the door and slid out. The man, a wide grin on his face, was at Michael's side, behind them she glimpsed a feminine figure stepping from the house.

"Father, my wife, Diana," Michael beamed. "Diana, meet Michael Hightower, Number One."

She knew a surprised look was plastered stupidly across her face, but it couldn't be helped. Her father-in-law's resemblance to his son, her husband, was unbelievable. He was identical to Michael, except for a slightly older-looking face and a few strands of grey hair salting the area around his temples. The elder Hightower even wore blue-jeans and a pullover in the fashion of his son. Had she not known that he was nearing fifty, she would have guessed his age to be no more than in the mid-thirties.

"She's beautiful, Michael," he grinned, dropping a hand he had proferred as a greeting. "Handshakes are for men. I prefer a healthy hug for beautiful women... that is if you don't object."

Smiling, she shook her head in the negative and opened her arms. The hug was no more than a quick friendly squeeze. Still somewhat stunned by the father and son resemblance, she mumbled something about being pleased at the warm greeting and found her "Mr. Hightower" immediately corrected to "Michael One," if having two Michaels around confused her.

"Diana, welcome," a flurry of a woman form pushed around the older Hightower and she was getting another warm hug and a quick womanly kiss on the cheek. "We're all so happy."

"My wife, Lorraine," her father-in-law made the introduction.

Diana found herself mentally knocked for another loop, when she was finally released from the hug and got a good look at her new mother-in-law. Lorraine was a beautiful woman. Not only beautiful, but she didn't look a day over twenty-five. She was dressed in a loost-fitting silk caftan, but the light afternoon breeze pressed the thin fabric against her body, revealing the curves of an equally young woman.

Dear old Dad likes 'em sweet and tender, she mentally noted, remembering Michael's words about his family being "a little different."

Jolt three came when Lorraine introduced her two children, jerking the rug out from under Diana's twenty-five year old theory. First there was Paula--eighteen and sharing her mother's blonde, flowing hair and shapely figure. And at sixteen and a full six feet, was Bryan. Brushing the reddish-blonde mat of long hair from his face, he offered Diana a handshake in greeting. Her first impression of him as a young athlete was reinforced by the strength of his grip.

Michael had told her of his father's re-marriage after his wife's death five years ago, but this bordered on the unbelievable. Lorraine looked so young, but here were her children by a previous marriage. And they were in their late teens. Hell, Diana thought, I'm only twenty-one and Michael's just twenty-two.

"This is my sister, Katherine," her husband introduced the final member of the Hightower family.

"Kate, to friends and family," the young black-haired girl insisted, giving Diana another friendly hug.

Michael's true sister, Diana knew, was seventeen. And she realized the good looks of the Hightowers weren't reserved for the men, as she gazed at the young girl.

"My other son, Jim, hasn't arrived home from school yet," the elder Michael Hightower spoke. "We expect him in by Sunday. Which will give you a chance to meet him before you two have to leave."

She nodded, then allowed her father-in-law to escort her into the Hightower "home." If the immense house appeared to be a mansion on the outside, it did doubly so within. A great sweeping, curved stairway leading to the upper floor stood at the back of the entry hall. And everywhere was highly polished wood paneling. She only glimpsed the other rooms, as Lorraine took over and led her and Michael upstairs to their room to freshen up before dinner. Their room looked like something out of Gone With The Wind and Diana raced across the room to fly bouncing on the over-sized four-poster bed as soon as Lorraine departed, announcing dinner would be ready in an hour or so.