funny about the price of land going beyond my reach!1'
"I had imagined you a bank robber on the lam... or a Casanova on a tryst. Or an FBI agent, prowling the coast for enemy submarines." she said, chuckling richly. "You just didn't look sick enough, not even for amnesia!"
"I'm supposed to be sick?"
"Jill said something about an invalid, so I expected. .." She shrugged.
Slowly a grin formed on his mouth and a very predatory row of white teeth captured her glance. He couldn't have looked healthier, more virile—more dangerous. Her heart seemed to be thudding unreasonably in her breast as her cautious gaze rose to meet the wicked dance of his.
Tilting his blond head to one side he surveyed her in minute detail. "I take it you're not disappointed?" he asked, the directness of his words masked by a deceptively polite tone of voice.
She gasped, shocked at his unfamiliar boldness. She felt his challenge viscerally...but chose to ignore it. "I'll be careful not to breathe a word of your reasons for being in town. Shall I say you've been having headaches, if anyone asks? People are so curious."
"So they have been asking about me?"
"In a roundabout fashion. After all, by now everybody knows I'm looking after Jill's booking. I guess they've seen you around."
"Is my being here unpleasant for you?" he demanded abruptly, beginning to frown.
"No." She smiled very faintly. "Doom and Gloom haven't started yet."
"Is that why you didn't want to have me here?"
Arianne's eyebrows rose slightly, although she could hardly refute his words. She hadn't been very welcoming. "Oh, gossips don't bother me too much," she said offhandedly, instead of answering his question directly.
"If anyone asks, tell them I'm a bibliophile—with a headache."
As usual he didn't linger over dinner. He took the blackberry path again, down toward the fort that was all in darkness. Arianne supposed there was some perfectly logical explanation for his strolling on the beach at night, just as there had been for the rest.
Waiting for his return, she found it very hard to sit down and knit. Restlessly she paced, unable to find solace in a book, either. Two hours later she heard his light tread on the steps outside, and she flew over the chair by the fire. Dropping into it, she took up her knitting as the front door opened. The beeswax candle beside her was flickering erratically but didn't go out.
***
Over the next few days she found herself sneaking glances at him when he wasn't looking and following him about with her eyes. He'd better not stay any longer than one more week! She'd become far too accustomed to the companionable small talk over the crackle of the fire late at night.
Of course it was Rae she was really worried about, she told herself. Children formed strong attachments very quickly, and the boy seemed to like their guest rather more than he should under the circumstances. After the week's end they might never see Leo Donev again!
Having to make breakfast, lunch and supper took up a lot of her time, and the rest of the week slid by far too quickly. Merely dressing these days took more time...
Arianne greeted the next Saturday morning with a peculiar dread. She didn't want to go downstairs, make breakfast and then find out he was going away right after. That pay envelope had come to mean a lot more than the money it contained.
But after Leo had finished his blueberry waffles he invaded the kitchen, this time with Rae riding piggy-back on his shoulders. Hanging on to her son's sneakers with one hand, he handed her the customary payment. Arianne bit her lip to keep from appearing too happy. She didn't want to sing and dance, for example, or look like much other than a staid mother, as she wiped sudsy hands on her jeans before taking the envelope.
"Arianne, I'm leaving town tomorrow morning, and I won't be back until Tuesday morning. So if you want to visit Seattle for Thanksgiving, feel free. I have to go home for a couple of days to get some
"I had imagined you a bank robber on the lam... or a Casanova on a tryst. Or an FBI agent, prowling the coast for enemy submarines." she said, chuckling richly. "You just didn't look sick enough, not even for amnesia!"
"I'm supposed to be sick?"
"Jill said something about an invalid, so I expected. .." She shrugged.
Slowly a grin formed on his mouth and a very predatory row of white teeth captured her glance. He couldn't have looked healthier, more virile—more dangerous. Her heart seemed to be thudding unreasonably in her breast as her cautious gaze rose to meet the wicked dance of his.
Tilting his blond head to one side he surveyed her in minute detail. "I take it you're not disappointed?" he asked, the directness of his words masked by a deceptively polite tone of voice.
She gasped, shocked at his unfamiliar boldness. She felt his challenge viscerally...but chose to ignore it. "I'll be careful not to breathe a word of your reasons for being in town. Shall I say you've been having headaches, if anyone asks? People are so curious."
"So they have been asking about me?"
"In a roundabout fashion. After all, by now everybody knows I'm looking after Jill's booking. I guess they've seen you around."
"Is my being here unpleasant for you?" he demanded abruptly, beginning to frown.
"No." She smiled very faintly. "Doom and Gloom haven't started yet."
"Is that why you didn't want to have me here?"
Arianne's eyebrows rose slightly, although she could hardly refute his words. She hadn't been very welcoming. "Oh, gossips don't bother me too much," she said offhandedly, instead of answering his question directly.
"If anyone asks, tell them I'm a bibliophile—with a headache."
As usual he didn't linger over dinner. He took the blackberry path again, down toward the fort that was all in darkness. Arianne supposed there was some perfectly logical explanation for his strolling on the beach at night, just as there had been for the rest.
Waiting for his return, she found it very hard to sit down and knit. Restlessly she paced, unable to find solace in a book, either. Two hours later she heard his light tread on the steps outside, and she flew over the chair by the fire. Dropping into it, she took up her knitting as the front door opened. The beeswax candle beside her was flickering erratically but didn't go out.
***
Over the next few days she found herself sneaking glances at him when he wasn't looking and following him about with her eyes. He'd better not stay any longer than one more week! She'd become far too accustomed to the companionable small talk over the crackle of the fire late at night.
Of course it was Rae she was really worried about, she told herself. Children formed strong attachments very quickly, and the boy seemed to like their guest rather more than he should under the circumstances. After the week's end they might never see Leo Donev again!
Having to make breakfast, lunch and supper took up a lot of her time, and the rest of the week slid by far too quickly. Merely dressing these days took more time...
Arianne greeted the next Saturday morning with a peculiar dread. She didn't want to go downstairs, make breakfast and then find out he was going away right after. That pay envelope had come to mean a lot more than the money it contained.
But after Leo had finished his blueberry waffles he invaded the kitchen, this time with Rae riding piggy-back on his shoulders. Hanging on to her son's sneakers with one hand, he handed her the customary payment. Arianne bit her lip to keep from appearing too happy. She didn't want to sing and dance, for example, or look like much other than a staid mother, as she wiped sudsy hands on her jeans before taking the envelope.
"Arianne, I'm leaving town tomorrow morning, and I won't be back until Tuesday morning. So if you want to visit Seattle for Thanksgiving, feel free. I have to go home for a couple of days to get some
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