“No,” she said, appalled at how easily the lie came to her. “If unprotected sex was in the cards, it couldn’t have happened at a safer time for me.”
“When will you know for sure?”
“Within a couple of days.” More embarrassed by the minute and hurt beyond measure by his attitude, she passed a hand over her face, as if doing so would be enough to wipe away her distress. How hard he was; how unfeeling! “Really, Liam, I find this line of questioning most upsetting. Have you no sense of delicacy?”
“No,” he said bluntly. “But I like to think I’m not completely without decency. If you don’t get your period when you’re supposed to, I want to know about it. Last night, we were going at it like a pair of demented polecats. I’m not proud of myself but I’m willing to face the consequences, unwelcome though they might be.”
Going at it like a pair of demented polecats?
She’d been so sure she could cope with seeing him again, that they’d somehow find a way past last night’s indiscretion and manage to keep their friendship intact. But his whole attitude, from the squared-off set of his shoulders to the flat, disinterested expression in his eyes, to his blistering disparagement of something she’d found memorably beautiful, overwhelmed her with such pain and regret that she burst into tears. “You insensitive brute!” she sobbed. “No wonder you’re here by yourself. It’s not from choice, at all. You probably don’t have a friend to your name!”
“Oh, cripes!” he muttered, and raked a hand through his hair. “Janie, look, I don’t want to hurt you—”
“Too late,” she wailed, swiping at the tears. “You already have. The damage is done.”
“But it’s not irreversible.” He caught her hands and stilled their frantic scrubbing. “Stop mutilating yourself like that and listen to me. You’re right. I’m a louse, a jerk—”
“You’re a lot worse than that!”
“You think I don’t already know it? I had no business making love to you last night. I don’t have a single excuse for letting things get so out of hand. But at least I can make sure I don’t repeat the mistake, and if that means cutting you out of my life completely, that’s what I’ll do. It’s time I was moving on, anyway. The rehab has gone faster than I expected and I’m ready for a bit more comfort and freedom than this place has to offer.”
He blew out a breath and patted her shoulder awkwardly. “As for you, you’re ready for another relationship, for marriage, whether or not you’re willing to come right out and say so. But I’m not the man for the job, Janie. I’ve got my own personal mountains to climb. I can’t take on yours, as well.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’ve never even hinted that I was looking for such a commitment.”
But the sobs continued unabated because in a moment of blinding truth, she knew that the only person she was fooling was herself. Liam was right. At some point over the summer, she truly had emerged from that long tunnel of personal readjustment and was ready to love again.
“Not in so many words, perhaps,” he said, “but that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with going after your dreams. It’s the healthy thing to do. And if I had a grain of sense, I’d cash in on the opportunity because you’re a lovely woman, Janie.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek in his palm. “But I can’t give you what you need to be happy. My priorities lie elsewhere. If my leg doesn’t heal completely, I’ll be crippled for the rest of my life. You’ve been down that kind of road once and I’d never ask you to travel it again.”
“Not even if—?”
“Not even if,” he said soberly. “You’ve seen the way I am. Most days, I’m not fit to live with. You’ve got to know I’d be even worse if I thought what I’m dealing with now is here for the long haul.”
“It won’t be,” she said, covering his hand with hers. “You’ve already come so far. You’re going to make it. I really believe you are.”
“If you’re right, and I hope like the devil that you are, then I’ll be back on the job, leading the life I love—one you wouldn’t find acceptable. You’ve already spelled out the kind of husband you want, sweetheart, and I just don’t fit the mold.”
His beautiful aquamarine eyes stared into hers, and she felt something shift inside, a tiny splintering of shattered hope. She knew she’d never again look at the summer sea without her heart aching at the memory of him and that, no matter what the future held, there’d never be another man who’d move her to the heights of passion she’d known with him. But then, there’d likely never be another who’d hurt her in quite the same way, either. “You don’t believe in mincing words, do you?” she said.
“No,” he said again. “One thing you can always count on with me, Janie, is plain speaking. I don’t believe in sugar-coating the truth, so I think it’s only fair to tell you, I’m cutting things short here and heading back to Vancouver as soon as I’ve got my stuff together and made adequate travel arrangements.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
SHE had to get away, far enough that she wouldn’t see him limping out of her life. Far enough that she wouldn’t give in to the urge to run after him with a mouthful of excuses which were nothing but a cover-up for the fact that she couldn’t bear to let him go.
By early afternoon, she’d packed the supplies she’d need to see her through the next couple of days, and set off for Bell Mountain. Though steep and difficult at its higher elevations, the trail began in wide, easy sweeps at right angles to the fall line. She’d started out later than she’d have liked, but still she reached the cave well before sunset.
Her grandfather had first taken her there when she was about ten. “Found this place when I was a boy,” he’d told her. “Made it my secret hide-out. Camped out here for nearly a week once, when I was ticked off with Steve for netting a bigger salmon than the one I’d caught.”
“But what did you do up here? What did you eat?” she’d asked, fascinated by the idea but never dreaming that the day would come when she’d also seek refuge there.
“Brought books and stole some bread and cans of corned beef hash from my mother’s pantry, and a pound of butter and a sack of potatoes. Even built a couple of shelves to keep my supplies—over there at the back, see?—and built a fire just outside the entrance to keep the bears away.”
It had been years since she’d visited it, but nothing had changed. Ferns and salal still draped the entrance beyond which lay the circle of stones where fires, whose ashes had long since been washed away by winter rains, once had burned. Even the cedar shelves, silvery with age, remained intact. On one of them a collection of shells were lined up next to a candle stub and a faded old photograph of a rock star she’d idolized when she was a teenager.
Unexpectedly, the sight of them and the shining innocence they represented, brought the misery she’d sought to escape washing back with a vengeance. Bell Island had always been a haven, a place where killer whales sported off the western shore, and summer storms swept down with brief and violent passion.
Liam would be like them and leave the same empty desolation behind when he went away. She wished she’d never met him, never come to know his fierce and private pain, or his too brief laughter. She wished he’d never touched her, never kissed her.
She wished she didn’t love him.
With a little cry, she dropped to her knees on the rough, sandy floor, and wept for the truth she could no longer deny. This was not how things were supposed to have turned out. She had returned to the island to restore herself, spiritually and physically, so that she could make a new start when she went back to the city. Instead, she was full of heartache, and all for a man who wouldn’t care if she dropped off the edge of the earth.
A warm, wet tongue lapped anxiously at her face. “Oh, Bounder,” she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his fur, “how could I have let this happen?”
The trouble with living on the island was that a man lost track of time. It just sor
t of flowed by, making it too easy to put things off until tomorrow, or next week, or whenever the spirit moved him. So Liam’s first reaction when the single-engine float plane came skimming down and landed with a hiss in the cove around four-thirty that afternoon, was an irate, “Hell and damnation!”
He’d forgotten about Brianna’s proposed visit. Had barely given it a thought, in fact, since the day she’d left the message on his voice mail. But there was no avoiding it now. Disgruntled, he hobbled down the ramp to meet her. If she’d come a few days later, he could have hitched a ride with her and saved himself the hassle of chartering a commercial pilot to fly him home.
Taxiing the plane to the wharf with her usual flamboyant expertise, Brianna climbed out and stretched, a gesture geared solely toward reminding him of her considerable assets.
Then, shoving her sunglasses up into her hair, she cooed, “Precious!” and latched onto him like a starving leech.
Doing his best to hold her off without toppling them both in the salt chuck, he stretched his face into the nearest he could come to a smile—no easy feat, given his black mood ever since the screw-up with Jane. “Hey,” he said.
“Let me feast my eyes!” she gushed, unfazed by his lukewarm reception. “Well, darling, you look good enough to eat, so tanned and healthy and fit and all! Country living must agree with you.”
“It has its advantages.”
“And its drawbacks, too. Did you have to seclude yourself in quite such a remote spot? I had one devil of a time finding you.”
“That’s one of its charms, Brianna. It’s too inconvenient for people just to drop in for a visit whenever they feel like it. How long are you planning to stay?”
Her laugh rippled through the still afternoon. “I only just arrived, precious! At least let me get my land legs back before you try to get rid of me.”
“Just don’t want you to feel obligated to stick around visiting the invalid,” he said, “especially since I’ll be back in town myself within the week.”
She slid her hands over her hips to the hem of her short skirt, a direct invitation for him to admire the expanse of smoothly tanned thigh. “Don’t be silly, Liam,” she burbled. “I’m here because I couldn’t stay away. And anyway, it’s an easy trip down the coast from here to the city. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour or so, which leaves us plenty of time for a nice, long visit.” She hooked her arm in his and began a determined stroll up the ramp. “Aren’t you going to invite me up to your little cabin, darling? I’m itching to see it. And I’m perishing for something cold to drink.”
“All I’ve got is beer or well water.”
She made a face. “Good grief, you really have taken to rustic life with a vengeance, haven’t you? Good thing I brought along a few essentials. Wait here, darling, and I’ll get them.”
She flitted back to the seaplane, as out of place in the setting as a brilliantly colored tropical bird. Warily, he glanced over at Jane’s place. No sign of her, thank God, though she could hardly miss noticing the seaplane if she happened to come out on her porch.
He hoped she didn’t. She might not belong in the bigger picture but his perceptions had altered since he’d first decided that having Brianna show up would effectively put an end to any ideas Jane might be hatching about him and her becoming an item. Loath though he was to admit it, he’d come to care enough not to want to hurt her, and in light of what had happened the night before, he knew she’d take it badly if she thought he’d been stringing her along to keep himself entertained until a better prospect showed up.
Not that Brianna fit such a description. He’d met her about a year ago through mutual friends who’d thought they’d make a fine match. Fat chance! She was too dramatic and a damn sight too persistent for his taste. Witness the fact that, of all the people he knew, only she had managed to find out where he’d chosen to hole up.
“Here we are, darling, just the thing to wile away the afternoon. Hope you’ve got a corkscrew in your little shack, because I forgot to bring one.”
“Is that such a good idea?” he asked, indicating the two bottles of wine poking out of the picnic basket she’d produced. “If you’re flying out again before sundown—”
“Trust me, Liam, darling, I value my life too highly to jeopardize it by piloting a plane when I’m under the influence! So stop glowering like that and show me your little house by the sea. I must say, if the outside is anything to go by, it’s not up to your usual standard of living.”
“It’s dry, more than adequate for what I need, and far enough off the beaten track to ensure total privacy,” he said, then added pointedly, “Most of the time, that is.”
“Not so very private, surely? I see another shack a bit further down the beach. Anyone interesting living there?”
“No,” he said, ignoring the way his heart kind of jumped around a bit. Jeez, whatever had made him think bringing another woman into the mix was any sort of solution to the problem with Jane? “Just another summer resident who’s also looking for peace and quiet, so it’s worked out very well.”
They’d reached his place by then. Tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow with unmistakable satisfaction, Brianna said, “That’s good. I worked too hard worming your whereabouts out of Tom to want to share you with someone else. I plan to keep you all to myself.”
Not if I have anything to say about it, he thought. I intend to have you winging your way back to town within the hour. “Well, here you are.” He stood back to let her precede him into the house. “Not bad, is it?”
“How…quaint!” She paused on the threshold, transfixed with dismay.
“Of course, it’s a bit of a mess right now because I’m in the middle of packing everything up. It’s served its purpose though, but I can’t say I’ll be sorry to leave.”
“Small wonder!” she exclaimed. “Dear heaven, Liam, it’s positively primitive! I don’t know how you’ve stood it this long. Crack open one of those bottles, for pity’s sake. I need something to fortify me.”
Half an hour of inane conversation, with “darlings” flying around like moths batting against a light, was as much as he could take. “Tell you what,” he said, almost glassy-eyed with boredom, “I’ve got a couple of traps out in the bay. How’d you like to take fresh crab home for dinner?”
But while the bribe had seemed harmless enough at the time, leaving Brianna alone turned out to be one mother of a mistake.
He supposed he was partly to blame. He might have managed to head off trouble before it happened, if he hadn’t taken the opportunity, when he brought the boat back, to tie up on Jane’s side of the wharf, instead of at his usual mooring spot.
He told himself doing this was to make it easier for Brianna to navigate the seaplane to open water, but the truth was, he was trying to hide the fact that the aircraft was there at all.
Under the guise of tying up at the new berth, he cast a furtive glance toward Jane’s place. Still no sign of her or Bounder. Either she was taking out her annoyance with him by baking up a storm, or she’d gone out—maybe arranged for the guy who brought her supplies to run her over to Clara’s Cove for the afternoon, though he hadn’t heard another boat powering up to the dock.
Climbing ashore, he swung his gaze to his place, hoping to find Brianna ready and waiting to take off. No such luck! Instead, she’d parked herself in the hammock on the porch, and even from this distance, she was easily recognizable as a woman. Sheesh! If Jane had gone over to the mainland and happened to come back any time soon…!
A glance at his watch showed it was nearly six. As a concerned and responsible host, he was well within his rights to urge his guest on her way. If she left now, she’d be back in Vancouver in time for a fashionably late dinner on the town, an option she’d hopefully seize with alacrity when she learned there was no crab to be had that day.
Cheered by the thought, he trudged back up the ramp. His optimism, though, was short-lived. As he rounded the corner of the porch, Brianna let out a br
aying laugh and literally fell on her face when she tried to get out of the hammock.
“I think I’m a tittle lipsy,” she giggled. “I feel so relaxed, precious!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said shortly. “We’ve had only a glass of wine each, and the bottle’s still half full. You can’t possibly be potted on the difference.”
“I was thirsty and you were gone so long.” She licked her lips and swallowed, then making a supreme effort to sit up, looked aggrievedly at the empty bottle half hidden under the hammock. “So I finished the first and opened the other.”
He grimaced, unable to hide his disgust. He’d over-indulged in his time, but never to the point that he’d lost control. Had she any idea how unattractive she was, with her slurred speech and her features so slack that her face looked as if it was made out of melting wax?
“Tipsy, my ass!” he snapped. “You’re three sheets to the wind, Brianna, and small wonder! How the devil do you expect to fly in your condition?”
“I don’t believe I can,” she hiccuped, trying to use his legs as a climbing post and slobbering all over his knees in the process. Giving up the struggle, she slithered back to the porch floor. “I think I’m just going to lie down here and take a li’l nap to clear my li’l old head.”
“Don’t you dare pass out on me!” he threatened, the possible repercussions of trying to explain her comatose presence should Jane suddenly show up too horrible to contemplate.
Jane…everything came back to her, dammit!
For about the twentieth time in the last hour and a half, he looked over to her place. Still deserted, thank God! But how much longer could his luck hold?
“I’ll make coffee,” he said, sidestepping Brianna’s attempts to use his feet as a pillow. “Brianna, for Pete’s sake…!”
The effort of trying to focus on him left her slightly cross-eyed. “Don’t be mad with me,” she whimpered. “I love you.”
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