Apparently reading the hunger in his eyes, she sidled closer and ran her fingers down his shirt. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” she murmured teasingly, translating his thoughts without need of his saying them aloud. “But we’re still on public display. Let’s try to pretend we’re not cats in heat for a little while. It will be a challenge.”
Just getting her out of the building without digging his hands into her hair and kissing her until their heads spun would be a challenge. “Hands to yourself,” he ordered, clasping her wrists and removing her marauding fingers from his shirtfront. “Tell me what you uncovered at the library today that has you dancing with mischief, and I may survive this.”
“Blackbeard used the island,” she informed him with satisfaction, “just like I told you.”
“Those aren’t Blackbeard’s bones.” Grasping her elbow, TJ steered her out of the office, flipping off lights and locking doors as he went.
A gaggle of reporters snapped pictures as they exited, but his head was already on overload, so he ignored them.
“Maybe other pirates used it,” Mara continued as if a TV camera wasn’t rolling down the road in front of her. “The island wasn’t accessible by road until the sixties. Mostly, it was for hunting. Cleo’s house is probably some rich nabob’s hunting lodge.”
She wasn’t even wearing perfume—now it was her damned jasmine-scented shampoo turning him on. Much more time in Mara’s company, and he’d be a basket case.
Did he mean to spend more time in her company? How much more?
TJ stepped into the street in front of the town’s one traffic light just before it changed, leaving the camera crew and their unwieldy equipment trapped on the corner.
“Any rich nabobs go missing back then?” he asked. The way stories were passed down around here, TJ figured he would have heard of missing nabobs by now, but he needed to concentrate on something besides Mara’s scent.
“Not that I’ve been able to tell so far,” Mara continued complacently. “Place was pretty poor back then, if the local weekly is any gauge. I started with the thirties. This was all farm country with some sea traffic at the harbor. I read tobacco prices and local wedding announcements until my eyes crossed.”
“Here comes the mayor. Cross your eyes at him.”
She shot him an amused look. “Ticks you off, does he? According to my research, his father was mayor back in the fifties. Good old Southern family. Play nice.”
“Miss Simon, Dr. McCloud. Pleasure to see you out and about,” the mayor called jovially. “I understand you’ve resolved your differences and the film is fully under way.”
“Miss Simon and I have come to an agreement,” TJ answered gravely without commenting on the film.
“Good, good! I’ve been in touch with the state about that land out there. The funding isn’t in the budget for more parks, but they’re looking into it. You need to get your people together with mine.” The mayor rocked back on his heels with an approving smile.
“Oh, I’m not the one in charge anymore,” Mara said sweetly. “You’ll need to speak with Ian. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to form a committee.”
The mayor’s smile vanished. “Has something gone amiss? You are still planning on landscaping the beach, aren’t you?”
Mara’s fingers tightened around TJ’s arm, but she spoke with blithe insouciance. “I’m sure Ian will see to it. It’s good to see you Mayor Bridgeton. Let me know if I can help in any way with the project.”
She tugged TJ away from the stuttering mayor and all but raced down the street toward restaurant row.
“I think I might be enjoying this,” she whispered, stopping to investigate the posted menu at the Blue Monkey. “No responsibility, no pressure...”
“It’s only an interlude,” TJ warned. It was a reminder to himself, as well. “Eventually, we have to return to our real lives.”
“I like thinking that we’ll uncover a magic genie with the power to grant all our wishes.” She caught his arm and dragged him through the open glass door into the noisy bar. “I’ll wish for my job back later. Right now, I’m enjoying this chance to have you.”
“You ought to be a writer,” TJ replied dryly, holding up two fingers to the harried waitress and pointing out the booth he wanted. At her nod, he led Mara to a quieter corner.
“After I make my first million. A girl has to live on something while pursuing her dreams.” Removing her hat, she slid into the seat and eagerly looked around.
“Hey, Miss Simon, is that you on the cover of that People magazine?” a local at the bar shouted over the uproar.
“They only put movie stars and supermodels on the cover,” she called back, “But thank you anyway!”
She beamed as the waitress threw down menus and took their drink order. “No one ever thought I looked like a supermodel before,” she whispered after the waitress departed. “I think I like it here.”
“Hollywood is probably the only place in the world where they wouldn’t mistake you for a model.” TJ studied her thoughtfully. “You’re tall, striking, and wear clothes with the same sort of...” He shrugged, searching for the word. “I don’t know. Glamour? Distinction?”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not even wearing makeup, TJ! I look like a tall, skinny librarian with my hair like this.”
He didn’t know whether to roll on the floor with laughter or shake her. “No one would ever get past the front desk if you were a librarian. You could stick pencils in your bun and wear dowdy dresses to your ankles, and you’d still look like a supermodel. It’s the way you hold yourself, the way you smile at the world, the confidence in your attitude—you scream ‘I’m Someone’ with every move you make.”
“Wow.” She shook her head in wonder. “I must have boffed your brains out.”
TJ couldn’t help laughing at that. The laughter ought to hurt after all the years of disuse, but once he’d started, it simply exploded out of him. The whole bar turned to stare, and he nearly ruptured a blood vessel trying to control himself, but tears came to his eyes, and he rolled off on another gale when Mara crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.
“Enjoying ourselves, are we?” Ian appeared like an evil genie, watching them with mistrust.
“Yeah, we are, so crawl back under your rock and wait for Sid to join you,” Mara ordered.
Wiping his eyes and composing himself, TJ tried to maintain a solemn face, but he kept sniggering. His career would be decimated within days, but he hadn’t felt this good in years.
“You might consider changing rocks, old man,” he told Ian between chuckles. “The one you’re under is about to be kicked over, and you don’t want to be part of the slimy underside exposed.”
Mara turned her stare on him, but TJ ignored the question in her eyes while Ian regarded him with suspicion.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying corruption takes its toll, and sometimes, it’s far better to side with the good guys. They might not get as rich, but they live longer.”
Ian opened his mouth, darted a look at Mara, and closed it again. With a wary glance, he eased back to the bar and pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket.
“He’s calling Sid,” Mara whispered excitedly. “What have you done today, TJ? Have you been a bad boy?”
“I’m not a bully anymore,” he warned. “I’m not the man, and I’m not the Intimidator.”
She leaned across the booth and shoved his head back with the heel of her hand. “And you accuse me of having image problems, Braino.” She dropped back to her seat and scowled. “Anyone who stands up to a bully, isn’t a bully. Standing up for your rights isn’t being a bully. Bullies abuse power, not use it for justice. If you intimidate cowards, it’s because they’re cowards.”
She gave him power far beyond any right he had to claim it, but TJ accepted the burden rather than see the light of indignation leave her eyes.
Soon enough, the magic genie would pop back i
n his bottle and life would go back to normal, but for right this minute, TJ would continue pretending he had the ability to change the world.
Or Mara’s version of it.
Chapter Twenty-three
“I’ve never seen such a diligent researcher in all my born days. Anytime you need a job, honey, you call on me.”
Mara smiled affectionately at the elderly librarian who’d help her dig through the stacks for this past week of researching TJ’s skeletons. “You have an amazing amount of material here. I’ve collected enough for a book, although I think I fancy Blackbeard a little more than the modern stuff.”
Standing on the front steps of the library, she squinted past the wide oaks, automatically scanning the sky for the source of the helicopter noise. “The mayor’s family makes for a fascinating history, but they lack the character of Blackbeard.”
The librarian chuckled. “Well, they never curled their beards or anyone’s toes, for certain. I can remember my mother calling them Krauts and speaking disrespectfully of the mayor’s daddy buying up the town, but times change, and she wasn’t one to change with them.”
“There isn’t a helicopter pad around here, is there?” The noise seemed to be coming closer. She was just getting used to the quiet sounds of birdcalls and neighbors yelling greetings instead of the fast-paced roar of motors. She didn’t like the intrusion.
“No, not that I know of.” The librarian scanned the sky as well, but the branches of the oaks blocked most of it. “Must be one of those helicopters from Parris Island. Sometimes the boys like to see what’s happening at the beach, I guess.”
“Well, I’d better be going. TJ will appreciate the information, Mrs. Lisle. It’s not much to work on, but at least we know what not to expect.”
“I hope he finishes up soon so you can go back to work on your film, dear.” The librarian waved her off and returned to the shady interior.
These days, she’d almost be happy not to have her film back, Mara mused, admiring the cloudless sky as she walked to TJ’s car. The helicopter must have moved off; she didn’t hear it anymore.
She rather enjoyed the leisure to dig through the library, laze on the beach, and make love all night. Unfortunately, her savings were nearly nil, Aunt Miriam still wanted to institutionalize her mother, and the studio would definitely go down the drain—along with a lot of investor financing and all its employees—if Sid and Ian continued on their present course.
She’d heard Ian had decided to unload the pirate ship replica at the harbor, load it on a barge, and ship it to Cleo’s beach. More delays, more expense, and still no guarantee that they could haul in the boom for the night scenes if TJ didn’t move his dig.
It was her film going down the drain. Telling herself it wasn’t her problem didn’t help. Spending this week waiting for Clay McCloud to arrive with a solution didn’t feel right either, but she was fresh out of ideas. And enjoying the vacation entirely too much.
Heaving her notebooks and heavy shoulder bag into the back of the Taurus, Mara glanced in the direction of the B&B. She had time to steal a gossip with Constantina. Now that Irving had given up and gone back to Brooklyn, it should be safe enough to visit.
TJ and the beach tugged harder.
Thinking about losing everything she’d worked for was too damned depressing. It was much easier to escape to TJ and pretend he’d make everything right. She didn’t even mind his enigmatic, secretive nature. She really didn’t want to know what he’d been plotting with his mysterious calls to Clay all week.
She wasn’t relying on others again, she told herself. She’d called all the money men, warned them they’d lose their shirts. She figured if they weren’t busy harassing Sid, then they deserved to lose their investment. She simply didn’t possess the skill or clout to bash the necessary heads.
She needed a big stick, and TJ was as close to one as she could get.
Climbing in the Taurus, she stopped and picked up dinner at the café. The regulars greeted her with waves, and in jeans and a tank top, she didn’t feel like an albino giraffe. Her career might be in a shambles, but personally, this week with TJ had been the most idyllic one of her life. She didn’t have to be glamorous, no one expected her to save the world or her mother, and she had a man who treated her as if she were a gift from the gods. It was hard to imagine a scientist-type like TJ being a creative lover, but once he loosened up—Wow!
Hormones zinging, Mara sang along with the radio on the way to the island. The beach house needed a hot tub.
She squealed the car to a skidding halt as soon as she turned from the highway onto Cleo’s sandy lane.
An adorable little blue and white helicopter blocked the road.
“It’s got to be a McCloud thing,” she muttered, climbing out to investigate. “McGod is more like it. One of these days, I’m gonna write a book.”
“Talking to ourselves, are we?” a laconic voice inquired from the vicinity of the machine.
“It’s allowed. What have you done with TJ?” She squinted to see under the belly of the thing where she could discern movement.
“He’s gone to see if Cleo has wrenches. Never thought to see the day Jared would hook up with someone who knew her way around tools. Wish I’d met her first.”
A long, angular form wriggled from beneath the copter’s belly. Garbed in an oil-covered jumpsuit, he would have looked like a garage mechanic if it weren’t for the styled, sun-streaked locks and expensive sunglasses shoved up onto his head. Mara could recognize Hollywood from a mile away.
“Thomas Clayton.” She crossed her arms and studied the tall man rising to his feet. The little boy she’d remembered had grown into another damned McCloud, all right. But this one had gaunt planes beneath high cheekbones that would film more cinematically than Garner, Eastwood, and Cruise, all rolled into one. Not a pretty face, but a damned compelling one. “When TJ said you’d fly in, I didn’t think he meant it this literally.”
Clay shrugged and shifted his sunglasses to his nose in perfect Hollywood-idol mode. “I just rented this baby at the airport. I’m thinking if I have to live in LA any longer, this is the way to travel.” He turned to examine the machine with interest. “If we could just get past the fossil-fuel problem, flight would provide the vehicles of the future.”
“Solving the noise problem would be beneficial,” TJ intruded dryly, entering the clearing with toolbox in hand. “Here, I brought what I could find. Cleo tends to keep tools in kitchen drawers.”
“Never know when a wrench can come in handy.” Grabbing the box, Clay disappeared beneath the machine again, effectively destroying his cover-model image.
“Is he planning on parking this thing here?” Mara asked doubtfully. “Cleo and Jared may not need the road while they’re in Florida, but it’s a bit of a hike for us.”
“Never asking what’s on Clay’s mind lowers the stress level. Want to wait until he’s done or hike on back? I think you’ve still got crew on the beach who will try to pass by here any minute. Might make good entertainment.”
Mara grinned. “Especially if Glynis and Ian are in the limo. I’ve got dinner in the car. Should we pull up a table and wait?”
“Hey, you got enough for me?” Clay shouted from beneath the machine.
“You’re supposed to call ahead if you want to get fed, Tommo. If you want a vacation, you’ve got to warn us in advance.” TJ moseyed over to the car and Mara.
“Think I’d do the work and not have the fun?” Clay called back.
Not wanting to know what he meant by that, Mara admired TJ’s shirtless chest. “I like your work clothes,” she murmured, now that she knew his brother eavesdropped.
TJ glanced down at his sweaty chest and dirty jeans and shrugged. “It’s hot out here. We could leave the food for Clay and hike back to the house to shower,” he suggested with the hint of a leer in his crooked eyebrow.
“Don’t tempt me, big boy.” She ran her fingers across the washboard muscles of his abdomen. “I’d
even forego the show Ian will put on when he discovers the copter, if I didn’t figure his next move would be to tear the house down to get at us."
“There, I think I’ve got it now.” Clay wriggled out from under the helicopter, feetfirst. “I hear a cavalcade coming. I take it this isn’t Jared’s private drive?”
TJ offered his brother a look of aggrieved disbelief. Mara tickled the furry line of hair disappearing beneath his belt buckle and was rewarded when he turned his attention on her rather than on slaying his brother.
“You could park the copter on the beach the film crew is using,” she suggested mischievously. “There’s more space there than in front of the house.”
“Sand and wind. Not good for long term. Saw a field past those trees. I’ll try that. Come pick me up?”
Mara tickled TJ’s belly to prevent the retort forming on his tongue. She remembered the insults the McCloud brothers had thrown at each other as kids. McClouds had invented one-upsmanship. “I’d send the limo, but you’ve got to get my job back first.”
On the other side of the helicopter, the caravan of cars and buses began slamming to a halt.
Clay shrugged and climbed into the pilot’s seat. “The Intimidator’s already got that covered,” he shouted as the rotors began to spin. “I’m just here to collect the baggage.”
“You know, I’ve been real polite and not questioned you, but I think that’s gonna stop,” Mara said thoughtfully as the helicopter began dancing over the sandy lane.
“My teachers always wrote me up for not sharing.” Feet planted firmly apart, muscled arms crossed over his bare chest, TJ watched the copter rise as if he weren’t blocking the convoy of cars like a statue of Colossus.
“If the logistics didn’t seem impossible, I’d say you planned this.” Mara wished she had her floppy hat and sunglasses as the helicopter disappeared over the trees. She’d rather face a furious Ian with all her protective shields in place. She felt naked without them.
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