men. She was
gesticulating gracefully in the manner that for one brief spring had
held TJ enthralled, so he knew the effect on her companions. She’d
always possessed enthusiasm and a joie de vivre that no other person of his acquaintance could equal once she got past her shyness.
“Oh, People magazine, definitely.” Her voice
carried as he passed the drive. “The town will be flocked with tourists.
Are you certain you’re prepared?”
The thick hedge obscured any reply as TJ walked on. His
teeth clenched at the mention of the press. Damn it, he didn’t need
journalists here poking around. He could hope the entertainment press
wouldn’t recognize his name.
Mara was promising the town council the moon, probably
with no chance of delivering. Tapping down his irritation, he made a
mental note to expect a deputation of city fathers in the morning,
complaining that the dig site interfered with tourism.
He hadn’t visited the excavation all day. He’d best go out
and pull his records into order. The scraps of evidence he had
extricated from the gravesite so far wouldn’t interest the local police
any more than archeological. He had a feeling that by the time he was
done, the police would definitely be interested.
That hadn’t been his original intention when he’d obtained the grant. Cleo would kill him.
With a wry grin, TJ concluded that would certainly solve a few problems.
***
“Offering to haul in new trees and shrubs was a stroke of
genius.” Ian returned the folded newspaper to the breakfast table the
next morning. The headline, HOLLYWOOD PRODUCER PROMISES PARK, landed
face up.
“A park won’t happen unless the state comes up with the
funds to buy the adjoining land.” Mara buttered her toast and glanced
out the bay window to the lush lawn and gardens of the B&B. “I have a
feeling it isn’t TJ who will come gunning after me, though. His
sister-in-law struck me as the type to dice me into little bits without a
qualm if I invade her island hideaway against her wishes.”
Still watching the window, Mara smiled as one of the
subjects in question stormed past the gardenia and down the drive,
brandishing a fresh newspaper in his fist. TJ. His expression was so
grim, she fully expected steam would pour from his ears shortly.
Uneasiness raised its ugly head, but she blithely added
jam to her toast while Ian checked the view to see what she was smiling
at. He whistled and hurriedly stood up.
“He’s all yours, babe. I have better things to do than be flattened before the day begins.”
“Cluck, cluck,” Mara mocked softly before taking a bite of
her toast. She was a pro at confrontation, but she preferred not to
engage in hostilities on an empty stomach.
TJ disappeared behind the enormous ferns on the wide veranda. The bell tinkling over the front door followed. Here he comes ... she sang mentally, until she remembered the rest of the verse mentioned nervous breakdowns.
Her mother did those. Mara Simon wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Not until she could afford to pay the consequences.
Ian slithered out the back way as TJ stormed in the front.
Since Mara was the only other one of her company up at this hour, TJ
found her easily. She sighed in admiration at the way he filled out the
short-sleeved black polo and jeans. All that muscle wasted on an
egghead—pity. Must have been dig day instead of lab day, she surmised—no
starched white shirt.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” TJ shouted,
slamming the folded newspaper with the headline about the state park on
the table. The scar over his nose twitched furiously.
“Eating breakfast?” she inquired, flapping her artful
lashes at him while taking another bite of toast. She really did enjoy
throwing TJ McCloud for a loop every time she flaunted one of her new
assets.
He recovered quickly though, she noticed in
disappointment. Other men melted when she played innocent. TJ froze up
colder than an iceberg in
gesticulating gracefully in the manner that for one brief spring had
held TJ enthralled, so he knew the effect on her companions. She’d
always possessed enthusiasm and a joie de vivre that no other person of his acquaintance could equal once she got past her shyness.
“Oh, People magazine, definitely.” Her voice
carried as he passed the drive. “The town will be flocked with tourists.
Are you certain you’re prepared?”
The thick hedge obscured any reply as TJ walked on. His
teeth clenched at the mention of the press. Damn it, he didn’t need
journalists here poking around. He could hope the entertainment press
wouldn’t recognize his name.
Mara was promising the town council the moon, probably
with no chance of delivering. Tapping down his irritation, he made a
mental note to expect a deputation of city fathers in the morning,
complaining that the dig site interfered with tourism.
He hadn’t visited the excavation all day. He’d best go out
and pull his records into order. The scraps of evidence he had
extricated from the gravesite so far wouldn’t interest the local police
any more than archeological. He had a feeling that by the time he was
done, the police would definitely be interested.
That hadn’t been his original intention when he’d obtained the grant. Cleo would kill him.
With a wry grin, TJ concluded that would certainly solve a few problems.
***
“Offering to haul in new trees and shrubs was a stroke of
genius.” Ian returned the folded newspaper to the breakfast table the
next morning. The headline, HOLLYWOOD PRODUCER PROMISES PARK, landed
face up.
“A park won’t happen unless the state comes up with the
funds to buy the adjoining land.” Mara buttered her toast and glanced
out the bay window to the lush lawn and gardens of the B&B. “I have a
feeling it isn’t TJ who will come gunning after me, though. His
sister-in-law struck me as the type to dice me into little bits without a
qualm if I invade her island hideaway against her wishes.”
Still watching the window, Mara smiled as one of the
subjects in question stormed past the gardenia and down the drive,
brandishing a fresh newspaper in his fist. TJ. His expression was so
grim, she fully expected steam would pour from his ears shortly.
Uneasiness raised its ugly head, but she blithely added
jam to her toast while Ian checked the view to see what she was smiling
at. He whistled and hurriedly stood up.
“He’s all yours, babe. I have better things to do than be flattened before the day begins.”
“Cluck, cluck,” Mara mocked softly before taking a bite of
her toast. She was a pro at confrontation, but she preferred not to
engage in hostilities on an empty stomach.
TJ disappeared behind the enormous ferns on the wide veranda. The bell tinkling over the front door followed. Here he comes ... she sang mentally, until she remembered the rest of the verse mentioned nervous breakdowns.
Her mother did those. Mara Simon wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Not until she could afford to pay the consequences.
Ian slithered out the back way as TJ stormed in the front.
Since Mara was the only other one of her company up at this hour, TJ
found her easily. She sighed in admiration at the way he filled out the
short-sleeved black polo and jeans. All that muscle wasted on an
egghead—pity. Must have been dig day instead of lab day, she surmised—no
starched white shirt.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” TJ shouted,
slamming the folded newspaper with the headline about the state park on
the table. The scar over his nose twitched furiously.
“Eating breakfast?” she inquired, flapping her artful
lashes at him while taking another bite of toast. She really did enjoy
throwing TJ McCloud for a loop every time she flaunted one of her new
assets.
He recovered quickly though, she noticed in
disappointment. Other men melted when she played innocent. TJ froze up
colder than an iceberg in
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