Scarlet Nights by Jude Deveraux Page B

his very difficult life, she knew they’d understand. His childhood had been so harrowing that it was true that he was sometimes awkward in public situations. He’d even admitted that he was jealous of the love the people of Edilean gave Sara. “I’ve tried,” he said as he shed tears that made Sara’s heart nearly break. “I’ve tried hard to make them like me. I didn’t understand about the grocery store. I thought that since your mother owned the place that she would share what she had with her daughter.”
    Sara didn’t know what to say. The food was free to her, but not to him . “It has to do with accounting,” Sara said. “And inventory. I’ll talk to her and see what—”
    “No!” Greg said. “I don’t want her to do anything special for me. If your mother doesn’t want me to eat her food, so be it. We’ll go to a grocery in Williamsburg.”
    “If you’d just let me explain to her about your past …” Sara said, but Greg always forbid it, and she understood why. He said he wanted the people of Edilean to like him on his own merits—as the people outside the town did. Sometimes he said, “Afterward, you and I will leave here.”
    “After what?” she’d asked, but he would never answer her.
    “Am I disturbing you?”
    She looked up to see Mike Newland standing by the table, two glasses of iced tea in his hands.
    “I saw yours was empty so I … Is that all right?”
    “Sure,” she said and tried to smooth her forehead. If he stayed much longer she was going to get wrinkles from frowning so much.
    He set the glasses down and said, “Do you mind?” as he nodded toward the empty chair.
    She kept on sewing while he sat down.
    “Look,” he said in his raspy voice, “I think you and I got off on the wrong foot yesterday.” For a moment he didn’t seem to know what else to say. “Did you have a nice day?”
    “ You seem to have been busy. Helped about a thousand people, didn’t you?” There was hostility in her voice.
    “I, uh …” He took a deep drink of his tea. “Miss Shaw, I know I offended you last night, but I thought I was entering an empty apartment. I can assure you that you were as much a surprise to me as I was to you.”
    Sara put her sewing on the table. “You’re right. I’m being rude. It’s just that—” She waved her hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter.”
    “No, tell me. I’m a good listener.” When Sara silently drank hertea and looked out over the garden, Mike said, “Does it have anything to do with your missing boyfriend?”
    “Fiancé.”
    “Sorry. I was told so much gossip this morning that I can’t keep up with it all. By the way, who is Ariel?”
    “A distant cousin of mine. According to my mother, she’s the most beautiful, brilliant, talented female ever put on this earth—next to my two perfect sisters, that is.”
    Mike looked at her for a moment, then stood up. “It sounds like you’ve had a hard day. Why don’t you come inside and let me cook something for you?” When she hesitated, he said, “It’s what I’ve done with Tess since we were kids.”
    It was so nice to have someone smile at her that Sara picked up her sewing and docilely followed him into the house. She sat at the table while he took over the kitchen. He tied a half apron (newly purchased) around his waist and began to rummage in the refrigerator. He emerged with an avocado, sour cream, and a couple of limes. “Talk to me,” he said as he set it all on the countertop and reached for a knife from the wooden holder.
    Sara watched him as he moved about the kitchen. He smashed a clove of garlic with the back of the big knife as though he were a professional chef. “I’m sorry about what happened to your apartment.”
    Mike gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Hazards of the job.”
    “It was burned because of your job?”
    Turning, he gave her a little smile. “The last thing I want to do is talk about my work or me. I’d rather hear about you. Aren’t you