by Helen Conrad
She straightened and met his gaze. “I’m the food editor for a small-town paper,” she told him.
“Here gathering exotic recipes, no doubt.”
“Of course.” Her dark eyes challenged him. “What else would I be doing here?”
“You got me.” He moved closer, the humor back in his face, though it had an ironic edge to it. “And did the interview with my uncle go as you planned?”
She flashed him an accusing look. “You know very well that you ruined everything,”
His smile betrayed how pleased he was with himself. “Another job well done,” he murmured.
His tone, his look, his phrasing, all implied something she couldn’t quite put into words. But there was a sting in it, and she reacted to that.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.
His smile was a shade too knowing. “It’s quite obvious, darling. Adorable little man-chaser that you are, Uncle John didn’t fall for it.”
Kat’s mouth dropped open. She’d forgotten that he would surely think she had been setting a trap for his uncle. Even now, remembering the things she’d said and done that might give him every right to think that, she was outraged.
“What?” She stared at him. “Oh, no, listen, you’ve got it wrong....”
He moved closer still, and reaching up, he brushed her hair off her cheek in a manner that was meant to be a little too personal—and left her skin tingling.
“Have I?” His eyes darkened and his hand tightened at the back of her head, drawing her toward him. “Why don’t you show me?”
His lips touched hers for only a fraction of a second before she jerked away, but that was long enough to leave a sizzling burn. She tried to wipe it away with the back of her hand, glaring at him all the while.
“What on earth gave you the idea I would let you kiss me?” she demanded angrily, her heart beating very fast.
His grin was slow and mocking and he didn’t pull his hand away from where it was tangled in her hair. “That was just a reminder, Kat. You don’t have to settle for an older man. I’m available.”
The only thing she wanted to “settle” right now was her hand along the side of his face.
“It’s not like that,” she insisted, trying to keep her temper from spilling out and making a fool of her. “I have no intention of going after your uncle.”
“Let me give you some advice, Kat,” he said silkily, paying no attention to her disclaimer. “Next time, choose someone a little more naive. Uncle John’s been around the block a few times. He seems a bit vague, doesn’t he? Don’t you believe it. He has a mind like a steel trap. You’re not going to fool him.”
His fingers slipped away, leaving a trail of sensation along her neck. “And next time, have a little more class. It’s pretty tacky, trying to cut out your own mother.”
Kat gasped. She sputtered. Her outrage couldn’t find words.
He grinned at her, drew back and gave her a jaunty salute. He was striding away before she got out even one of the terrible insults she wanted to hurl at him. Vindictively, she pulled off the orchid corsage and hurled it into the waters of the bay.
She was still fuming almost an hour later when she finally got out to the island and found the cottage she was sharing with her mother sitting silent and empty. Resentment toward Tanner faded as she focused once again on the real problem.
She threw down her purse and sank into the comfortable rattan sofa, sighing as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Her mother was off with the colonel somewhere, and there wasn’t a thing Kat could do about it.
After all, what could she really try besides urging caution? Her mother was going to do what she wanted to do. There was no way Kat could stop her.
That lottery money. It had seemed a godsend at the time, but so far it had done more harm than good. Too much money was always like that, though, wasn’t it? It had certainly ruined Jeffrey—and her marriage to him.
Kat stirred uncomfortably, wishing she could keep Jeffrey out of her thoughts. He was part of a past she would just as soon forget about. Why was it suddenly popping up all the time?
She’d met him in college. He’d been forced to leave his Ivy League school for mysterious reasons she never did get to the bottom of, and had shown up at the university in her hometown. She’d had no idea who the Collinghams were, but it had been obvious from the start that Jeff had more money than they were used to in her circle. She had to admit that had been part of his appeal. And when he’d turned his attention on her, she’d been more than flattered.
It had been a crazy, immature thing, marrying Jeff. He’d seemed so sophisticated, a city boy dropped into the Midwest, like an extraterrestrial among them. She’d been impressed, but not enough to agree to the physical relationship he wanted without a ring on her finger.
She’d never quite figured out what had made him give in to that. The old pain throbbed dully for a moment as she thought of it. He had to have loved her a little—even if just for a few months. Hadn’t he? Or was even that a lie?
She’d certainly loved him—or at least, she’d loved the man she’d thought he was. She would never be that stupid and trusting again. Life was too short to let people fool you. Betrayal stung like a mortal wound and changed you for the worse.
A picture of Tanner Carrington’s cold eyes as they’d looked when he’d accused her of chasing his uncle swam into her thoughts. Man-chaser.. .ha! If Tanner only knew how hard she’d worked over the past few years to avoid men and all that relationships involved, he would never have made such a ridiculous charge.
They called it gun-shy where she came from. And didn’t she have reason to be?
But Tanner thought... She shivered. For some reason, his bad opinion of her hurt more than it should have. His uncle was the suspect on trial here, not her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or simply admit that his opinion had crushed her feelings, and before she could make up her mind, her mother came breezing in through the front door, her pleasant, pretty face radiant.
Kat was on her feet in a split second, her heart in her throat. She’d never seen her mother look so happy.
“What happened?” she asked. “What did he do?”
Mildred Clay laughed and threw her arms around her only child. “Don’t look so scared, Katherine. He didn’t do anything.”
She drew back and touched the silver hair she wore in a short, stylish cut that was new. Her figure was still trim, her bearing youthful, and the clothes she’d been able to afford with the lottery win were colorful and attractive.
“Anything, that is, except make me feel like a beauty queen,” she admitted, her smile as full of wonder as it was of joy.
Kat sank back down into her seat, feeling just a bit sulky. “I thought you had a headache.”
Mildred laughed again. “John massaged my temples. And believe it or not, his touch worked better than aspirin ever has.” She looked down at her daughter. “Oh, by the way, he so enjoyed lunch. That was nice of you, darling. He said you went all out.”
Kat nodded and tried to smile. She’d gone all out, all right. And to no avail. She watched as her mother moved around the room, seemingly unable to sit still, and couldn’t help but notice the new spring in her step. Her mother was being reborn before her eyes. This new man in her life was going to her head like fine champagne, washing away the years like a fountain of youth. How could Kat tell her it might all be a lie? But if she didn’t warn her...
“Are you... planning to see the colonel again this afternoon?”
Her mother’s eyes were shining. “Yes. We’re going for a sail,” She gave a dreamy sigh. “You know Katherine, I think he just might...”
Her voice trailed off and she looked at her daughter almost guiltily. “Never mind,” she said quickly, turning away.
Kat jumped up off the couch. “What? He just might what?”
Mildred shook her head, smiling secretively. “Nothing.” She turned and gave her daughter another exuber
ant hug. “Isn’t he wonderful? Do you like him? Do you really like him?”
“Like him? Well, sure. He’s... He’s handsome and well-mannered and charming and... and...” She took a deep wreath and rushed on. “But, Mom, you don’t really know the man very well. I mean, how long have you been here? Two weeks? He’s really swept you off your feet, and it’s been great fun, but...”
She hesitated, worried that she might hurt her mother, that the look of puzzled uncertainty would come again, the look that had settled on her face when her husband—Kat’s beloved father—had died, twelve years ago. It was a look that said, “What did I do wrong? Maybe I shouldn’t try again.”
It was a look she’d hated, worried about, and hadn’t really understood until she’d felt very much the same way when Jeffrey had vanished from her own life. It was a look that had disappeared since the colonel had entered her mother’s world.
But there was no point worrying. Her mother wasn’t listening to a thing she said. Her thoughts were still with the Colonel. She was looking at herself in the mirror, making little poses.
Kat watched her, torn. It was so good that she was caring about things such as how she looked once more. Just what would happen to these new feelings if she was hurt again? There were too many reasons for caution to just let things go as they were going. If anyone was going to get to the bottom of this, it would have to be Kat. And she had better do something quickly, because from the looks of things, her mother would elope at the drop of a suggestion.
There was a sharp knock on the bungalow door. Kat went to answer it and found a uniformed bellhop with a piece of paper in his hand.
“Message from Senor Ted Alfred,” the boy said. “He wishes that Miss Clay call him right away.”
She tipped the boy and held the message in her hand as he left. Ted had come up with something. She could feel it.
“I’m going to run on in to the lobby and make a phone call home,” she called to her mother, who was freshening her makeup in the next room. “Will you be here when I get back?”
“Probably not, darling. John is taking me out in the sailboat. He’s such a good sailor. You should see him whip those lines around.”
Kat made a face at the empty air. “Don’t stay out too long,” she called back. “And take your sunblock.”
“And by the time you get back,” she whispered to herself as she started off for the ferry, “maybe I’ll have the goods on the colonel.”
Tanner gazed about his room with a jaundiced eye, tossing the stuffed turtledoves out of the way as he sank down onto the plush red-velvet couch. He supposed the decorating could have been worse, though right now he couldn’t think how. Fluffy bunnies, maybe, and little duck mobiles hanging from the chandelier. As it was, he had been given the “best” honeymoon suite in a hotel that knew how to put on a good honeymoon. The in-room spa was done in red and white tiles. The bed was covered in red satin and shaped like a heart. Pictures of cooing couples in various states of undress adorned every wall. Romantic tunes were piped in— and he hadn’t yet succeeded in finding the off switch for the sound system.
They’d given him a room that could double as a hideout for a cupid gone mad. Hopefully it wasn’t catching. Romance was the last thing he had on his mind.
At least the view was spectacular. He could see out over the islands, over the jetty, and back up into the hills where he knew his cousin Shelley would be staying in an apartment over a local café managed by her husband’s aunt and uncle. Smiling in quick anticipation, he pulled out his cell phone, then gave up in exasperation when he couldn’t get service. There was, however, a landline here in the room and he reached for it, dialing Shelley’s number.
“Hi. So you made it.”
Shelley’s warm voice made him laugh. “I’ve made it. I took the red eye from JFK.”
“Good. I got in last night myself, but I haven’t had time to come over to the islands to see what’s shakin’.”
“I’ve arrived, I’ve met the enemy—or part of the enemy, anyway—and I’ve seen Uncle John.”
“How does the situation look to you?”
“The usual. He’s crazy about the woman, but then, he always is, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” She laughed softly, and Tanner could picture her twisting her long, silver-blond hair between her fingers in a nervous gesture as she talked. “Remember the Israeli widow who had him signed up for work on a kibbutz before we came to the rescue?”
“Or that ex-Hollywood star who almost had him convinced he could channel for King Tut?”
Shelley giggled. “He almost married that one. Didn’t you have to pay her off or something?”
Tanner frowned, remembering. That one had not come cheap. Funny how money seemed to quell the urge for romance almost every time. But he didn’t think it appropriate to go into that now. “Gentlemen never discuss these things after the fact, you know that.”
She laughed again. “Oh, Tanner, I’m so glad you’re here.”
Something wistful in her voice caught at him and he remembered the special event that was coming up in her life.
“How is the, uh...?”
“The baby is fine. Kicking like crazy. And it’s so hot and I get so tired.”
He hadn’t been wrong. There was a sense of strain in her voice, and it wasn’t like her to turn whiny. He frowned, feeling big-brother protective and only knowing how to show it by being gruff.
“You shouldn’t have come down here so late in your pregnancy.”
“Oh, you know we had to. Michael does this every year for his aunt and uncle. They wouldn’t get a vacation if he didn’t come run the cafe for them for a week every year at this time. And I wasn’t about to let him do it on his own.”
He sighed. “I know, I know. But in your condition...”
“I’m not due for almost another month and the doctor said I would be fine. Besides, there’s a good hospital here if anything begins to happen.”
“Listen, Shelley, maybe I’ll run over and see you. Uncle John’s going out sailing with his lady love and I’m at loose ends for the next few hours.”
“I’m going out. I’ve got to pick up some veggies at the market. Michael’s making a run up to Santa Barbara to take care of some business.” Her voice brightened. “But meet me for a snack at the Crabby Critter. It’s an open-air cafe right next to the marketplace.”
“How about four o’clock?”
“Perfect.”
She hung up and he stared out at the ocean, worried about his cousin, vaguely annoyed about Uncle John and curious about the pretty young woman who seemed to have her fingers in too many pies all at the same time.
Fortune hunters. What an odd name to use for them. In his experience, there wasn’t much use differentiating them with a term of their own. Almost every woman he’d ever known had appreciated him for his money first, and everything else a distant second.
It was a fact of life, something you just got used to if you had wealth. He hardly thought about it any longer, hardly cared. What, after all, was the point of getting upset about it? You might as well hate men for preferring beautiful women, hate children for liking dogs. It didn’t matter.
For just a moment he let himself remember the one time it had mattered, the one time it had almost broken his heart. But he pushed memories of Eileen away with a grimace and sighed. His shoulders were tense.
He’d planned on getting some rest, but he knew he would never be able to sleep in this condition. A session in the spa would do him good. He made a couple of quick business calls to New York, then rose and walked toward the bathroom, shedding clothes as he moved through the room, studiously ignoring all those relentlessly ecstatic couples staring down at him from the walls.
He could already feel that delicious water churning around him. A half-hour of aqua therapy and he would be as good as new. Then he would go down and say a word to Uncle John before he took off for his afternoon of sailing. A word to the wise—if only Uncle John were wise, it m
ight even do some good.
CHAPTER FOUR:
To Catch a Thief
“Will your husband be joining you?”
Kat looked behind her, not sure at first just who the hostess was talking to.
“I’m not married,” she said when she confirmed that she was, indeed, the only one around. “I just want a cappuccino,” she added lamely, then smiled. “I mean...”
“Forgive me.” The woman flashed an apologetic smile. “We have so many honeymooning couples here, I just assumed ... well, you’re young and most of the single women who stay here are older ladies....” She stopped, cheeks reddening, and laughed. “Let me start over. Would you like a stool at the bar, or a booth to yourself?”
“The latter, please.” Kat grinned as she followed the woman to a nice little booth overlooking the lagoon. “Thank you.” She slipped into the seat and sighed, looking around at the others in the cafe.
The hostess was right. She hardly fit in here. The other single women tended to have blue hair and an eye out for any available man who might have wandered in by mistake. The people her age and younger were invariably locked in newly wedded bliss. They looked so happy. She could feel her jaw tighten.
“No, you can’t warn them,” she murmured quietly to herself. “Would they listen? Of course not. Let them find out the hard way, just like you did.”
She and Jeffrey had never had a honeymoon. He’d promised her Paris, London, a cruise in the Mediterranean, and she’d laughed and told him she didn’t need a special trip, just to be with him. But after six months, she hadn’t even had that.
She frowned, annoyed with herself. Why were memories of Jeffrey coming back so strongly all of a sudden? She was beginning to think he was like a demon. She kept laying him to rest and he kept jumping up again. If only she could think of a good figurative stake to put through the demon’s heart.
