“Put me down,” she murmured into his mouth.
He released her, and she slid along his body.
Then suddenly, she was gone, and he was left puckering up all alone. His eyes shot open. She ran up the stairs. “Last one naked is a rotten egg!”
Her shirt came flying back and hit him in the face. His brain was still stuck on “naked.”
Evan stripped off his own shirt and tossed it over the banister, then chased her up two flights of stairs and into his room. He stopped dead just inside the door.
“Guess I’m the rotten egg,” he murmured.
She stood completely unclothed by the window, the light of the moon turning her skin the shade of marble. Her red hair drifted across her shoulders and she tossed it back, making her magnificent breasts dance.
He shook his head to clear away the lust. He should ask her now. Go down on his knees, beg her to be his wife, then make love to her. But the idea of going down on his knees gave him other ideas. Ideas he couldn’t get out of his head.
“Evan?” Confusion clouded her face. He was standing here like an idiot, gaping, probably drooling, while she was nude and waiting for him to join her.
He yanked off his pants, shoes, socks, and crossed the room. “You’re so…”
Mesmerized by the scent of her hair, her skin, the green of her eyes, he couldn’t complete a coherent thought. Everything about her made him crazy. He was amazed he’d managed to get this far on the inn without killing himself when he zoned off remembering the taste of her lips or the way her body would clasp around him and make him come.
“I’m so what?” she asked.
He blinked, trying to remember what he’d been going to say.
Beautiful? She was much, much more.
Special? Lame, even for him.
Hot? Please. He wasn’t sixteen.
She continued to stare at him expectantly. He had to say something. Evan opened his mouth and let the first word that came to his lips fly free.
“Mine.”
She didn’t say anything, simply looked at him. For an instant he thought she’d walk away. Evan held his breath. Had he blown it without even trying?
Then she smiled and kissed him lightly. “Okay. I’m yours.”
Evan took her in his arms and made the words reality.
JILLY AWOKE AT THE TIME when the moon drops below the horizon and the sun hasn’t yet begun to light the sky. The darkest hour. She wasn’t sure what had woken her. Evan was pressed to her back, his breath stirring her hair, his heart beating against her shoulder blade. Nothing wrong there.
She listened. Not a bird twittered, not a coyote howled, no animal raced through the woods, the yard, even the house. All was quiet, so why was she as tense as a hound dog faced with the butt end of a polecat?
Something shimmered at the edge of her vision. With no light in the room, how could anything shimmer?
Jilly turned her head but the sparkle was gone. Still, a pervasive sense of unease made her get out of bed and move to the window.
She looked outside. Lightning stared at her from the yard. He pawed at the ground, tossed his head and galloped faster than she’d ever seen him move to the edge of the hill. Then he stared down at Addie’s place before lowering his head and pawing at the dirt some more.
Something wasn’t right.
Since she wouldn’t be able to sleep again until she checked on Addie, Jilly threw on her clothes and ran down the stairs, careful to step over any critters in her path.
The four kids were scattered across the lower level. Only Mario lifted his head and woofed once.
“Shh.” She put her finger to her lips and he stopped, then laid his head back down. He was catching on to a few things—although sit, stay and go potty outside seemed to be beyond his comprehension. Sometimes she worried about him.
Jilly hurried across the grass in her bare feet. She’d never bought shoes, never found her green-and-silver tennies. She’d left her high heels and strappy sandals in the suitcase with the silk shells and rayon suits. Her feet were as hard as leather, the idea of toenail polish almost laughable, and she just couldn’t work up the energy to care.
She ran full tilt to the edge of the yard, where Lighting was waiting. Pausing, she peered into the darkness, but Addie’s place was as dark as the night.
Lightning shoved her hard in the middle of the back, and she stumbled down the hill a few steps. “All right, all right. I’m going.”
Jilly half slid, half jogged to the bottom, then glanced back at Lightning, who stood exactly where she’d left him. He was better trained than Mario, which wasn’t saying much.
She hurried on to Addie’s cabin, hesitating outside. What if the old woman was sound asleep? What if she wasn’t?
“Better safe than sorry,” Jilly muttered, and went inside.
The lamp was turned so low she could barely see Addie in the bed; Jilly couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
Jilly rushed over and knelt on the floor. Her own breath became as shallow as Addie’s. She touched the older woman’s shoulder, and Addie’s eyes opened as she smiled. The expression took twenty years off her face.
“I was dreaming of Matthew.” Her gaze went to the corner of the cabin. “He’s waiting.”
Jilly’s neck prickled, and she spun around, but she and Addie were alone in the room.
“My time’s come,” her friend murmured.
“No!” Jilly flinched at the volume of her voice. “I still need you.”
She thought of the talks they’d had, the things she’d learned, the days she’d spent joyfully in Addie’s company. Addie was the mother she’d always wanted.
The old woman took her hand, pressed her hot lips to Jilly’s fingers. “You don’t need me. You’ve got Evan now. The love of a good man, and yers for him, will give ye the strength to do what needs to be done.”
“I don’t believe in love.”
Addie tried to snort her opinion of that, but she was too weak to emit more than a slight cough. “There are some things that don’t need to be believed to be real. They just are. Love’s one of ’em.”
“And I suppose ghosts are another.”
The old woman nodded and winked at the empty corner. “Matthew’s in this room now, and just because you don’t see him doesn’t make him any less there.”
“And magic?” Jilly whispered.
“If you believe, more than you can imagine will come true. The mind is a powerful thing. But the heart is even stronger.”
Why were Addie’s words making sense? Because Jilly wanted to believe in the power of love and the myth of magic?
“You’ll be fine now,” Addie said. “I believe in you.”
“I’m not ready.”
“I say ye are.”
“I’m not good enough.”
“Ye always were. Just needed a little time with someone who cared.”
“Please don’t go.”
“Have to. Should have gone before, but you weren’t ready then. Matthew was patient, but his patience is purt near out. So’s mine. But don’t worry. You’ll see me agin.”
Addie’s eyes slid closed, and no amount of begging on Jilly’s part could make them open. She held Addie’s hand as the old woman’s breathing became slower and slower, then stopped altogether.
And then Jilly held her hand some more.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE POUNDING ON the door didn’t wake Evan from the best sleep he’d had in years. The yipping and yowling did. The kids didn’t appear to care for whatever, or whoever, was standing on the porch.
The sun had been up for a good long while, judging from the slant of the rays across the floor. Jilly was nowhere to be seen. Where the hell were the brothers?
Unease filtered through Evan as he found a pair of shorts and slipped them on. Something was wrong, and he had a bad feeling he was going to find out what as soon as he opened the front door.
Evan trotted downstairs. The dog and the cat were making al
l the noise, with no sign of the opossum or the raccoon. Not a door or a window existed that could keep Zorro inside when he wanted to be out, and Peter usually went AWOL with him. They were creatures of the night. Being pets couldn’t change that.
Evan shoved Mario into the cage before the doodle ate his way through the wall trying to get at the visitor. Henry was howling as if someone had died. The hair on Evan’s neck lifted.
“Aw, hell,” he muttered, and yanked open the door.
As soon as he did, Henry scooted into the kitchen and didn’t come back.
A woman and a man stood on the other side of the screen. They were dressed as if they’d just come from a wedding, or maybe a tea party—the man in a lightweight suit and shiny shoes, the woman in a wispy summer dress the shade of a lemon drop. A hat of the same color hid her hair and shaded her face. She held a white pocketbook in perfectly manicured hands.
In contrast, Evan felt like a pig—no shirt, no shoes, and he hadn’t shaved in a few days. What was the point? His hair had grown longer since he’d come here, reaching past his shoulders. It was no doubt tangled after last night’s encounter with Jilly’s roving fingertips.
The woman’s lip curled as she let her gaze wander over him from head to toe. Evan straightened. This was his place, or near enough. She had no right to knock on his door, wake him up, then sneer.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I just bet you can. But right now I’m trying to find Jillian Hart Duvier.”
“And you are?”
“Her mother.”
Evan cringed. He felt positively underdressed now. But he’d been in situations like this before, and the best way to handle them was to pretend you hadn’t been caught with your pants down.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Evan Luchetti.”
She gave a long, labored sigh. “She’s screwing you, isn’t she?”
Evan blinked. Such language from a woman who appeared as if she could give Miss Manners a lesson had him floundering for a comeback. He wished Dean were here. His brother would have a million.
Jilly’s mother threw up her hands. “I go out of the country for a few months and look what happens. She can’t get herself decently remarried. No, she has to disappear into the hills and do the nasty with Jethro.”
The man, who was at least fifteen years younger than her, never said a word. Jilly hadn’t mentioned a brother, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one.
Evan tensed. If he’d come across anyone who looked like he did right now shacked up with his little sister, he’d be honor bound to punch him in the nose. Maybe Evan should just let the guy take a swing and get it over with.
“This is my husband.” Jilly’s mother waved a careless hand in the young man’s direction. “Count Stanislaski.”
The count clicked his heels and bowed. Evan’s eyes widened. Was he serious?
“He doesn’t speak much English.”
Lucky for Mrs. Hart. Or was it Countess Stanislaski? She seemed to enjoy doing all the talking.
“I’m sorry.” Evan attempted to make amends. “We didn’t know you were coming.”
“If you had a phone that would have been remedied. Now, where’s my daughter?”
“I’m not sure.”
“She’s not upstairs, sleeping off the wonder of your touch?”
Evan gritted his teeth. Regardless of what her mother thought about him, he hadn’t been taking advantage of Jilly. He loved her, and she loved him.
“I can assure you, ma’am, this isn’t what it looks like.”
She made a very unladylike sound, but she didn’t seem to care. “Believe me, it is.”
“No, we aren’t— I mean we are…”
“Which is it?”
Evan took a deep breath. He’d wanted to say this to Jilly first, but if he had to tell her mother, then so be it.
“I love her.”
“I bet you do. Who wouldn’t? She’s gorgeous, smart. Every man’s dream. But you appear penniless. Jilly doesn’t waste her time on men with less than a million to their name.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She hasn’t told you?” She laughed. “Jillian, Jillian. That really wasn’t fair.”
“Told me what?”
“Her occupation. Her talent. Her calling.”
Evan shrugged.
“She’s a gold digger, sweetie. You’re much too young and much too broke for Jillian to ever love.”
He couldn’t speak; he could only shake his head.
“You don’t believe me?” She turned toward the limo behind her and snapped her fingers. The door opened and a man stepped out. Well dressed, well kept, he had to be pushing sixty—to the limit. “Meet Jilly’s fiancé. Rupert Murton. They’re to be married just as soon as we can find her.”
The man nodded once, then glanced away, as if Evan were of no more consequence than a servant.
Huh, he thought, she had been screwing him.
WHEN JILLY DIDN’T SHOW UP to check on Larry and Jerry’s stomach troubles, the brothers Seitz came to Addie’s. Therefore Jilly was able to send them to town for the appropriate powers that be. Still, the sun had been up for hours before Addie’s body was removed and all the people were gone.
In the old days, Barry had informed her, someone would have sat with the body until the funeral. Death watch, he called it. Jilly was glad the old days were gone. Although sometimes, around here, she wondered.
Peter and Zorro wandered in, but there was no sign of Fergus. Jilly checked the pond and found him floating there alone. She’d heard of crocodile tears, but she had no idea if alligators could cry. If they could, she had no doubt Fergus was weeping right now. She left him where he was and went up the hill with Peter and Zorro.
Lightning met her at the top of the ridge. He shoved her in the chest, nearly toppling her back down the hill.
She rubbed between his eyes. “I know. It’s just not going to be the same without her, is it?”
He lifted his head, lowered it, then plodded behind her as Jilly headed for home.
Still preoccupied with Addie, Jilly didn’t see the limo until she nearly ran into it. The sight made her heart skip into her throat. Jilly looked up and met the icy stare of her mother.
Zorro started chittering as if he’d seen a coyote, and ducked behind Jilly’s legs. Peter scooted under the porch.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Don’t ‘Hello, Mother’ me! I had to call Henry’s attorney to find you. Fly commercial to get to…where are we?”
“Arkansas.”
Genevieve’s gaze caught on something behind Jilly, and her eyes narrowed. “Why is there a horse in the front yard?”
Jilly glanced at Lightning and shrugged. “Where else would he be?”
“The barn?”
“Why would I have a barn?”
Genevieve made an aggravated noise deep in her throat. “Never mind. What is that thing hiding behind you?”
“A raccoon.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “And what are you wearing?”
Jilly glanced down at her faded cotton skirt and white tank top.
“Your feet!” Genevieve put a hand to her forehead. “You need an immediate emergency pedicure.”
“I don’t need anything except Evan.”
“Your Jethro boy-toy?”
Jilly’s mouth tightened. “What did you do?”
“Less than you. Honestly, Jillian, a carpenter? If you were going to go slumming, couldn’t you at least pick a contractor or an engineer?”
“Where is he?”
“Inside, talking to the count and Rupert.”
“Who the hell is Rupert?”
“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady. Not when I’ve gone out of my way to bring you a brand-new husband.”
“You told him, didn’t you?”
“About your past? Of course. You should have. The poor fool is in love with you.”
Jilly’s heart gave a single,
hard thud against the wall of her chest. “He is?”
“I had to tell him what a stupid idea that was. As if you’d live here with him, scrub the floors and pop out children.” She shuddered. “Maybe he has a Cinderella fantasy, but I raised you better than that. You’re meant to be the princess, not the chambermaid.”
Jilly tried to speak but could only shake her head. Losing Addie so suddenly. Having her mother turn up where she wasn’t supposed to be. Discovering that Evan not only knew her dirty secret, but that he loved her, or at least he had. This was all too much for her to handle.
“Mom—”
“Mom? Since when do you call me Mom? Next thing I know you’ll be addressing me as Ma and picking your teeth with a blade of grass. Get your things, Jillian. We’re leaving.”
Zorro’s chittering was getting on her nerves, so Jilly patted him gently on the head and urged him toward the backyard. He growled at her mother, then scurried away. Peter crawled out from underneath the porch and followed. No one appeared eager to remain in the same zip code as Genevieve Hart. Jilly could hardly blame them.
The screen door opened, and Jilly caught her breath, yearning for the sight of Evan. Instead, two strangers stepped out—one young, one old. She didn’t have to guess which man was for her.
“Jillian, meet Rupert.”
As she’d suspected, the white-haired gentleman smiled. He took in her wild hair, old clothes, dirty feet, and his smile froze into something akin to a grimace.
“Don’t worry,” her mother said briskly. “She cleans up very well. She’s been having a little fling. You don’t mind, do you?”
Rupert cleared his throat. “Of course not. If you’d like, we could take him with us. I have some work to do on my estate.”
Jilly’s eyes widened. Was he suggesting what she thought he was? That she take Evan along for her amusement, like a pet?
“No, thank you.” She tossed her head.
Her mother made a sound of exasperation. “If you gentlemen will wait in the car, I’ll have a word with my daughter.”
The young man, who must be Count Whatski, led the way, and the two men climbed into the idling limo. Jilly joined her mother on the porch.
“Sit down,” her mother ordered.
Jilly did, but only because her legs were too weak to keep her standing. She’d heard the lecture before, and it always followed the same refrain.
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