The scene affected him more than all her pleas. He remembered standing on the ridge, watching her play with the island children on the beach below. He recalled how her eyes would light up just before his mouth met hers; he recalled how she clung to him. With vivid clarity, he remembered the fall from the horse and how he would’ve given everything he owned not to see her hurt, not to lose her. Now, he was losing her, anyway.
His presence must have disturbed her, because she turned and her eyes found his. McFarland’s stomach knotted at the doubt and uncertainty he saw in her gaze. He yearned with everything in him to ease her pain, but if he did he would only increase his own. He needed her. The Beast who’d once claimed he needed no one was dependent on a woman. This woman.
The sudden thunder and lightning barely registered in McFarland’s mind. The drenching rain soaked him in minutes, and still he didn’t move.
Judy came to him, her gaze concerned.
“Go inside,” he rasped.
Her face was bloodless. “Not without you.”
He nearly laughed. It shouldn’t matter to her what became of him; she was the one who wanted to walk out of his life.
“John,” she urged him again a moment later.
“I find your solicitude unconvincing.”
The flatness of his voice sent a chill through her veins. Judy hesitated.
He saw that she was as drenched as he was. “Go inside,” he murmured. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“If you stay out here, you’ll catch a chill.”
Raw emotion fueled his anger, and he shouted loudly enough to be heard over the furious clap of thunder. “Leave me!”
Her eyes welled with tears.
McFarland couldn’t bear to see her cry. He stepped close and cupped her face. His heart ached with all the emotion he felt for her. He could make her stay, force her to live on the island and ignore her desire to leave. In time she’d forget her family, he told himself, accept her position on St. Steven’s and in his life. He would give her everything a woman would possibly want; everything he owned would be hers.
In that moment, McFarland knew that everything he possessed, all his wealth, all that he was, would never be enough for Judy. He dropped his hands and turned toward the house.
When they reached the front door, John opened it for her. Judy paused and looked up at him. Her own distress hardly compared to the misery she witnessed in his eyes.
“John,” she whispered brokenly. Even now his unhappiness greatly affected her. Even now she loved him. “I—”
His face tightened as a dark mask descended over his features, a mask she recognized. He’d worn it often in the first weeks after her arrival. She’d forgotten how cold and cruel he could look, how ruthless he could be.
“Don’t say it,” he interrupted harshly. “Don’t say a single thing. Not a word.” He turned and abruptly left her standing alone.
—
Princess was saddled and ready for Judy early the next morning. Judy hadn’t slept well and looked forward to the rigorous exercise.
“Morning, Sam,” she said, without much enthusiasm.
The groom ignored her, holding a gelding’s hoof in his lap and running a file across the underside.
“Sam?”
“Morning,” he said with a grunt, not looking at her.
“Is something wrong?” Sam had been her ally and friend from the beginning.
“Wrong?” he repeated. “What could be wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
“For nearly two weeks now, this place has been like a battlefield.”
Judy opened her mouth to deny it.
“But does ol’ Sam question it? No.” He lifted his head to glare at her. “I figured whatever was wrong would right itself in time. Looks like I was wrong.”
“I wish it was that simple,” Judy murmured, stroking Princess’s neck.
Sam continued to file the gelding’s hoof. “McFarland bites my head off and you walk around looking like you spent half the night crying your eyes out. You get any paler and someone could mistake you for a ghost!”
Judy raised her hands to her cheeks, embarrassed.
Sam lowered the horse’s leg to the ground and slowly straightened. “McFarland been shouting at you again?”
“No.”
“Has he been unfair?”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Did he get after you for something you didn’t do?”
“No.”
Hands on his hips, Sam took a step toward her. “Do you love him or not?”
Judy felt the blood rush through her veins.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she answered, her voice shaking uncontrollably.
“I thought so.”
She pushed back her hair. “Loving someone doesn’t fix everything.”
“Then do whatever you have to do to make it right.”
Judy swallowed down the hard lump that had formed in her throat. Sam made everything sound so…uncomplicated.
“For heaven’s sake, woman, put an end to this infernal bickering. And do it soon, while there’s still a man or woman who’s willing to work for John McFarland.”
—
Judy rode for hours. When she returned, a maid announced that McFarland wished to see her at her earliest convenience. With her heart pounding, Judy rushed upstairs for a quick shower.
By the time she appeared in John’s office, Avery seemed greatly relieved to see her.
“You’re to go right in,” he instructed.
“Thank you, Avery,” she said as he opened the door.
John was writing, his head bent, and although she was fairly sure he knew she was there, he chose to ignore her.
After the longest minute of her life, he looked up at her and gestured for her to take a seat. His expression was cool and distant.
Judy shivered as she sat down. “I’ve been in communication with New York this morning,” he said evenly.
She nodded, not knowing what he was leading up to. He could be referring to her family, but he hadn’t said as much.
“The launch will leave the island at five tomorrow morning. However, the helicopter is at your disposal.”
Judy blinked. “Are you saying I’m free to go?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
It took a moment for the full realization to hit her. She sighed as the burden was lifted from her shoulders. “John—”
He interrupted her. “From what I understand, you’ll be home in plenty of time for your brother’s wedding.”
Her smile was tremulous. “Thank you.”
He nodded abruptly. “Is tomorrow soon enough, or would you prefer to leave now?”
“Tomorrow is fine.”
He returned to his paperwork. “John…”
“If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do,” he said pointedly.
Judy stood, clasping her fingers tightly in front of her. “I’ll never forget you, John McFarland, or this island.”
He continued with his work as though she hadn’t spoken.
“If I don’t see you again…”
John glanced at his watch and, while she was still speaking, reached for his phone.
Judy blinked back stinging tears of anger and embarrassment.
“Good-bye, John,” she said softly, and with great dignity turned and left his office.
—
That evening Judy ate alone. The dining room table had never seemed so big or the room so empty. She’d spent the afternoon preparing for her departure. Her suitcase was packed, her room bare of the things that had marked it as hers. She’d visited the children one last time and stopped at the stables to feed Princess and Midnight. Sam had grumbled disapprovingly when he heard she was leaving, and when she hugged him good-bye, the gruff old man’s eyes glistened.
After all the excitement, Judy had expected to sleep that evening. To her surprise, she couldn’t.
At
midnight, she made her way down the stairs for a glass of milk. She noticed light from under the library door and cracked it open to investigate. She found John sitting at the oak desk, a half-full whiskey bottle in one hand and a shot glass in the other.
He raised his head to study her when she entered the room, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”
The words were slurred. Judy shook her head, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. In all the weeks that she’d been on the island, John had never abused alcohol. “You’re drunk.”
He lifted the bottle in mocking salute. “You’re darn right I am.”
“Oh John.” She nervously tucked her hair behind her ears, feeling wretched.
“You think too highly of yourself if you assume I did this because you’re leaving.”
“I…”
He refilled his glass, the whiskey sloshing over the sides. He downed the contents in one swallow and glared at her. “You were a nuisance.”
Judy didn’t respond.
“I should’ve got rid of you weeks ago.”
Ten excellent reasons to walk away presented themselves. Judy ignored each one. For some perverse reason she wanted to hear what he had to say.
“You’re such a goody-goody.”
She clasped her fingers tightly together.
“I could’ve had you several times. You know that, don’t you? You were willing enough.” His eyes challenged her to defy him. “But I didn’t take what you so generously offered.” His short laugh was without humor. He leaned forward and glared at her. “You know why? I like my women hot and spicy. You’re sweet, but you’d soon grow tasteless.”
Judy’s face burned with humiliation; each word was like a lash across her back.
His eyes were cold. “Why are you still standing there?”
Unable to answer him, Judy shook her head.
“Get out!” he roared. “Out of my house! Out of my life!”
Part of Judy yearned to wrap her arms around him and absorb his anger and his pain. But she didn’t move, didn’t take a step forward.
“Go on!” he shouted. “Get out of here before I do something we’ll both regret.”
“Good-bye, John,” she whispered. She closed the massive doors when she left and flinched at the unexpected sound of breaking glass.
“Good-bye, Beauty.”
The words were so faint that Judy wasn’t sure she’d heard them.
—
Judy sat in her room, waiting for the sun to rise. She hadn’t slept after the confrontation in the library; she hadn’t even tried.
At four, the maid came to wake her and was surprised to find her already up. “Mr. Anderson will escort you to the dock,” the woman informed her.
“Thank you.”
Avery was waiting for Judy at the bottom of the stairs. He took the suitcase from her hand and gave her a sympathetic smile. Judy paused and glanced in the direction of the library.
“Take care of him for me, will you?” she asked.
Avery cleared his throat and looked doubtful. “I’ll do my best.”
The launch was at the dock. Judy hugged John’s business manager and Sam, who arrived at the last minute, looking flustered and upset.
Only when the boat had sped away did Judy turn back to the island. In the distance she saw a third figure standing separate from the others.
John McFarland watched the only woman he’d ever loved vanish from his life. In releasing her, he had made the ultimate sacrifice. It was probably the one completely unselfish act of his lonely life.
Chapter 10
The sound was what astonished Judy most. Street noise: buses, taxis, traffic, shouts, raised voices, laughter, televisions, radios. The clamor was less irritating than it was distracting. The island had taught her to appreciate the wonders of silence.
But this was Manhattan, not St. Steven’s, Judy had to repeatedly remind herself. The first few days after her arrival home, she’d felt as though she’d returned to another planet. The life that had once been familiar and comfortable felt strangely out of sync—and appallingly loud. In time, she knew she’d adjust, just as she’d adapted to life on the island.
“It’s McFarland, isn’t it?” her father asked her over breakfast the first week she was home.
“John?”
Charles Lovin’s features were tight with anxiety. The months apart had taken their toll on him. It showed in the way his eyes followed her, his gaze sad and troubled. “McFarland treated you abominably, didn’t he?”
“Of course not,” Judy answered, dismissing her father’s fears with a generous smile. “John McFarland was the perfect gentleman.”
“From the beginning?”
Judy lowered her eyes to her plate as a twinge of loneliness brought tears to them. “In his own way, yes. He’s an unusual person.”
“You think I don’t know that? I died a thousand deaths worrying about you alone with that…that beast.”
“I wasn’t alone with John, and, Father, really, he isn’t a beast.”
Charles Lovin’s instant denial faded in Judy’s ears. She pretended to be listening while her father listed John’s many faults in a loud, haranguing voice. Her thoughts were a thousand miles away on a Caribbean island where orchids grew in abundance and children laughed and a man ruled his own kingdom.
“Judy, are you listening to me? Judy?”
“I’m sorry,” she said contritely, looking at her father. “What were you saying?”
Father and son exchanged meaningful glances.
“I’m sure you can appreciate that Dad and I were concerned about you,” David said, studying his sister.
“Naturally. I would’ve been worried myself had the circumstances been reversed,” Judy murmured, feeling wretched. She wanted to defend John, but both her father and her brother were filled with bitterness toward him.
“He never spoke to us personally,” David continued. “I can’t begin to tell you how frustrated Dad and I were. We must’ve contacted McFarland a hundred times and never got past that business manager of his. By the way, what’s this Anderson fellow like?”
“Avery?”
“Yes. I tell you, he’s an expert at sidestepping questions. No matter how much Dad and I hounded him, we never got a straight answer.”
At the memory of Avery Anderson, Judy brightened and spent the next five minutes describing John’s business manager. “He really is a funny little man. So polite and—”
“Polite!” Her father nearly choked on his coffee. “The next thing I know, you’ll be telling me McFarland’s a saint.”
Judy blushed at the memory of the times he could have made love to her and hadn’t. “In some ways he was a saint.”
Her announcement was followed by a stunned silence.
“Any man who pulls the kind of stunts John McFarland does will burn in hell,” Charles Lovin stated emphatically.
“Father!”
“I mean it. That man is a demon.”
Judy pushed her plate aside and managed not to defend John. “And just what did he do that was so terrible?”
“Why, he…he nearly destroyed our business.”
“It’s thriving now. You told me so yourself.”
“Now!” Charles Lovin spat. “But McFarland drove us to the brink of disaster, then took delight in toying with us.”
“He told me once that he held you in high regard,” Judy informed him.
“Then Lord help us if he ever wants to be my friend!”
With great difficulty, Judy kept her own counsel. Neither her father nor her brother understood John the way she did. In their position, she’d probably feel differently, but that didn’t change her opinion of him, her love for him.
“Does he do this sort of thing often?” David asked, as he sliced his ham.
Judy blinked, not understanding.
“Were there other women on the island?” he elaborated.
“A few. But I was the only one he…” She pau
sed and searched for the right word.
“You were the only woman he blackmailed into coming?” her father finished for her.
“The only one he sent for,” Judy corrected calmly.
“That man is a menace to society,” Charles muttered angrily as he sipped his coffee.
Judy couldn’t tolerate their insults any longer. She sighed and shook her head. “I hate to disappoint you both, but John McFarland is kind and good. He treated me with respect the entire time I was on the island.”
“He held you like a prisoner of war.”
“He released me when I asked,” she told them, stretching the truth only a bit.
“He did?”
“Of course.” She dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin, ignoring the way both men were staring at her.
“He held you for three months, Judy,” David said, watching her keenly. “You mean to say in all that time you never asked to leave?”
“That’s right.”
Again, father and son exchanged looks.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” she told them lamely. “The island is a tropical paradise. I didn’t think of asking to leave until…until the end.”
The dining room grew silent.
Her father hugged Judy before she left. “It’s good to have you home, Beauty.”
“It’s good to be home, Father.”
—
In her bedroom, Judy ran her fingers over the brocade-covered headboard and experienced none of the homecoming sensations she’d expected. She loved this room; it was part of her youth, part of her existence before she’d met John McFarland.
Sitting on her bed, Judy felt a poignant sense of loss. She’d changed on the island. Because of John, she’d learned what it was to be a woman, and no matter how much she might have wished otherwise, she couldn’t go back to being the frightened girl who’d left New York.
A letdown was only natural, Judy tried to reason with herself. When she’d been on the island, home had seemed ideal. Everything was perfect in New York. There were no problems, no difficulties, no heartache. To her dismay, she’d discovered that reality falls far short of memory…
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