Читать интересную книгу Megans mate - Неизвестно

F-f-flaunting.

Enraged, she drew herself up to her full, and considerable, height.

I

have never flaunted in my life. You, sir, are despicable.

I'll show you despicable, lady.

Cut it out.

Prepared for fists to fly, Nathaniel stepped between them.

Dutch, what

the hell's wrong with you? Are you drunk?

A nip or two of rum never rattled my brain.

He glared over Nathaniel's shoulder at

Coco.

It's her that's acting snockered. Out of my way, boy, I've got a thing or two left to say.

You've finished,

Nathaniel corrected.

Out of his way.

All eyes turned to Coco. She was flushed, bright-eyed, and regal as a duchess.

I prefer to handle this matter myself.

Megan tugged gently on her arm.

Coco, don't you think you should go inside?

I do not.

She caught herself and added a friendly pat.

Now, dear, you and Nate

run along. Mr. Van Horne and I prefer to handle this privately.

But

Nathaniel,

Coco said, interrupting her,

take Megan inside now.

Yes, ma'am.

Are you sure we should leave them alone?

Nathaniel continued to steer Megan to the terrace . doors.

You want to get in the

middle of that?

Megan glanced back over her shoulder.

No.

She chuckled, shook her head.

No, I

don't think so.

Well, Mr. Van Horne,

Coco began, when she was certain they were alone again.

Do you have something more to say?

I got plenty.

Prepared for battle, he stepped forward.

You tell that slick-talking

rich boy to keep his hands to himself.

She tossed back her head and enjoyed the mad flutter of her heart when her eyes met his.

And if I don't?

Dutch growled like a wolf like a wolf, Coco thought, challenging his mate.

I'll

break his puny arms like matchsticks.

Oh, my, she thought. Oh, my goodness.

Will you, really?

Just you try me.

He gave her a jerk, and she let herself tumble into his arms.

This time she was ready for the kiss, and met it head-on. By the time they broke apart, they were both breathless and stunned.

Sometimes, Coco realized, it was up to the woman. She moistened her lips, swallowed hard.

My room's on the second floor.

I know where it is.

A ghost of a smile flitted around his mouth.

Mine's closer.

He swept her into his arms very much, Coco thought dreamily, like a pirate taking his hostage.

You're a fine, sturdy woman, Coco.

She pressed a hand on her thundering heart.

Oh, Niels.

Chapter 7

It wasn't like Megan to daydream. Years of discipline had taught her that dreams were for sleeping, not for rainy mornings when the fog was drifting around the house and the windows ran wet, as if with tears. But her computer hummed, unattended, and her chin was on her fist as her mind wandered back, as it had several times over the past few days, toward moonlight and wildflowers and the distant thunder of surf.

Now and again she caught herself and fell back on logic. It wouldn't pay to forget that the only romance in her life had been an illusion, a lie that betrayed her innocence, her emotions and her future. She'd thought herself immune, been content to be immune. Until Nathaniel.

What should she do, now that her life had taken this fast, unexpected swing? After all, she was no longer a child who believed in or needed promises and coaxing words. Now that her needs had been stirred, could she satisfy them without being hurt?

Oh, how she wished her heart wasn't involved. How she wished she could be smart and savvy and sophisticated and indulge in a purely physical affair, without emotion weighing in so heavily.

Why couldn't attraction, leavened with affection and respect, be enough? It should be such a simple equation. Two consenting adults, plus desire, times understanding and passion, equals mutual pleasure.

She just wished she could be sure there wasn't some hidden fraction that would throw off the simple solution.

Megan?

Hmm?

Dreamily she turned toward the sound of the voice. Her imaginings shattered when she saw Suzanna inside the office, smiling at her.

Oh, I didn't hear

you come in.

You were miles away.

Caught drifting, Megan fought back embarrassment and shuffled papers.

I suppose

I was. Something about the rain.

It's lovely always sets my mind wandering.

Suzanna thought she knew just where

Megan's mind had wandered.

Though I doubt the tourists or the children think so.

Kevin thought the fog was great until I told him he couldn't climb on the cliffs in it.

And Alec and Jenny's plans for an assault on Fort O'Riley have been postponed.

The kids are in Kevin's room, defending the planet against aliens. It's wonderful watching them together.

I know. They've blended together so well.

Like a mud bait,

Suzanna said with a laugh, and eased a jean-clad hip on the e.g.

of Megan's desk.

How's the work coming?

It's moving along. Amanda kept everything in order, so it's just a matter of shifting it into my own system and computerizing.

It's a tremendous relief for her, having you take it over. Some days she'd be doing the books with a phone at her ear and Delia at her breast.

The image made Megan grin.

I can see it. She's amazingly organized.

An expert juggler. Nothing she hates more than to bobble a ball. You'd understand that.

Yeah, I do.

Megan picked up a pencil and ran it between her fingers.

I worried

about coming here, Suzanna, bringing Kevin. I was afraid I'd not only bobble a ball, but drop all of them, because I'd be so anxious not to say anything, even think anything, that would make you uncomfortable.

Aren't we past that, Megan?

You were.

Sighing, Megan set the pencil down again.

Maybe it's a little harder,

being the other woman.

Were you?

Suzanna said gently.

Or was I?

Megan could only shake her head.

I can't say I wish I could go back and change things, because if I did I wouldn't have Kevin.

She took a long breath, met

Suzanna's eyes levelly.

I know you consider Kevin a brother to your children, and that you love him.

Yes, I do.

I want you to know that I think of your children as my family and I love them.

Suzanna reached over to lay a hand over Megan's.

I know you do. One of the

reasons I dropped in was to ask if you'd mind if Kevin came along with us. I'm going to do some greenhouse work today. Alex and Jenny always enjoy it especially since it includes pizza for lunch.

I can't think of anything he'd rather do. And it would make up for having to wear a tie the other night.

Suzanna's eyes lit with humor.

I nearly had to strangle Alex to get him into his. I hope Aunt Coco doesn't plan any more formal dinner parties for some time to come.

She tilted her head.

Speaking of Aunt Coco, have you seen her today?

Only for a minute, right after breakfast. Why?

Was she singing?

As a matter of fact, she was.

Megan touched her tongue to her top Up.

She's

been singing in the morning for several days now.

She was singing just now, too. And wearing her best perfume.

Uneasy, Suzanna

nibbled her Up.

I was wondering if Trent's father... Of course, he's gone back to Boston now, so I thought there was nothing to worry about. He's a lovely man, and we're all very fond of him, but, well, he's been married four times, and he doesn't

seem able to keep his eye from roving.

I noticed.

After a quick debate on privacy versus disclosure, Megan cleared her throat.

Actually, I don't think Coco's looking in that direction.

No?

Dutch,

Megan said, and watched Suzanna's eyes go blank.

Excuse me?

I think she and Dutch are... infatuated.

Dutch? Our Dutch? But she's always complaining about him, and he's snarling at her every chance he gets. They're always fighting, and...

She trailed off, pressed her

hands to her lips.

Oh...

she said, While her eyes danced over them.

Oh, oh, oh...

They stared at each other, struggled dutifully for perhaps three seconds before bursting into laughter. Megan fell easily into the sisterly pleasure of discussing a family member. After she told Suzanna about walking in on Coco and Dutch in the kitchen, she followed it up with the scene on the terrace.

There were sparks flying, Suzanna. At first I thought they were going to come to blows, then I realized it was more of a well, a mating ritual.

A mating ritual,

Suzanna repeated in a shaky voice.

Do you really think they ?

Well.

Megan wriggled her eyebrows.

She's been doing a lot of singing lately.

She certainly has.

Suzanna let the i.e. stew for a moment, found it simmered nicely.

I think I'll drop by the kitchen before I go. Check out the atmosphere.

I hope I can count on a full report.

Absolutely.

Still chuckling, Suzanna rose to go to the door.

I guess that was

some moon the other night.

It was,

Megan murmured.

Some moon.

Suzanna paused with her hand on the knob.

And Nathaniel's some man.

I thought we were talking about Dutch.

We were talking about romance,

Suzanna corrected.

I'll see you later.

Megan frowned at the closed door. Good Lord, she thought, was she that obvious?

After spending the rest of the morning and the first part of the afternoon on The Retreat's accounts, Megan gave herself the small reward of an hour with Fergus's book. She enjoyed tallying up the costs of stabling horses, maintaining carriages. It was an eye-opener to see how much expense was involved in giving a ball at The Towers in 1913. And, by reading Fergus's margin notes, to come to understand his motives.

Invitations all accepted. No one dare decline. B. ordered flowers argued about ostentation. Told her big display equals success and wife must never question husband. She will wear emeralds, not pearl choker as she suggested, show society my taste and means, remind her of her place.

Her place, Megan thought with pity for Bianca, had been with Christian. How sad that it had taken death to unite them.

Wanting to dispel the gloom, she flipped to the back pages. The numbers simply didn't make sense. Not expenses, she mused. Not dates. Account numbers, perhaps.

Stock-market prices, lot numbers?

Perhaps it would be worth a trip to the library to see if she could unearth any information from 1913 that correlated. And on the way she could stop by Shipshape to drop off the completed spreadsheet for April and pick up any more receipts.

If she happened to run into Nathaniel, it would be purely coincidental.

It was a pleasure to drive in the rain. The slow, steady stream of drops had most of the summer people seeking indoor entertainment. A few pedestrians wandered the sidewalks, window-shopping under umbrellas. The water in Frenchman Bay was gray and misted, with the masts and sails of ships spearing through the heavy air.

She could hear the ring of bell buoys, the drone of foghorns. It was as if the entire island were tucked under a blanket, snug and safe and solitary. She was tempted to keep driving, to take the twisting road to Acadia National Park, or the meandering one along the shore.

Maybe she would, she thought. After she completed the day's business, she would take that drive, explore her new home. And maybe she would ask Nathaniel to join her.

But she didn't see his car outside Shipshape. Ridiculous to say it didn't matter whether she saw him or not, she realized. Because it did matter. She wanted to see him, to watch the way his eyes deepened and locked on hers. The way his lips curved.

Maybe he'd parked around the corner, out of sight. Snagging her briefcase, she dashed from her car into the office. It was empty.

The first slap of disappointment was stunning. She hadn't realized just how much she'd counted on him being there until he wasn't. Then she heard, faintly, through the rear wall, the throb of bass from a radio. Someone was in the shop attached to the back of the building, she concluded. Probably working on repairs as the seas were too rough for tours.

She wasn't going to check out who was back there, she told herself firmly. She'd

come on legitimate business and she took out the latest spreadsheet and set it on the overburdened desk. But on a purely practical level, she would need to go over, with at least one of them, the second quarter and the projections for the rest of the year.

But she supposed it could wait.

A long look around snowed her a disorder she couldn't comprehend. How could anyone work, or hope to concentrate, in such a mess?

She was tempted to organize, but turned her back on the chaos and walked to the filing cabinets. She'd take what she needed and leave the rest. Then she would, casually, wander around back, to the shop.

When she heard the door open, she turned, ready with a smile. It faded a tittle when she saw a stranger in the doorway.

May I help you?

The man stepped fully inside and shut the door behind him. When he smiled, something jittered inside Megan's brain.

Hello, Megan.

For an instant, time froze, and then it rewound. Slow motion for five years, six, then back a decade, to a time when she'd been young and careless and ready to believe in love at first sight.

Baxter,

she whispered. How odd, she thought dully, that she hadn't recognized him. He'd hardly changed in ten years. He was as handsome, as smooth and polished, as he'd been when she first saw him. A trim, Savile Row-suited Prince Charming with lies on his lips.

Baxter smiled down at Megan. For days he'd been trying to catch her alone.

Frustration had pushed him to approach her here and now. Because he was a man concerned with his image, he'd checked the office thoroughly before he stepped through the door. It was easy to see she was alone in the small space. There were things he intended to settle with her once and for all. Calmly, of course, he thought as she stared at him. Reasonably. Privately.

Pretty as ever, aren't you?

It pleased him to see her eyes go blank with shock. The advantage was with him, as he preferred it. After all, he'd been planning this reunion for several weeks now.

The years have improved your looks, Megan. You've lost that charming baby fat, and you've become almost elegant. My compliments.