Authors: Antoinette Stockenberg
"
That doesn
'
t mean he didn
'
t pull the bolt.
"
"
No,
"
Jane had to admit.
"
It doesn
'
t.
"
A troubling image flickered in her memory, like a navigation buoy glimpsed and then lost again in the fog.
"
I don
'
t say it
'
s not possible,
"
she said vaguely, going up to the mantel.
"
I just don
'
t think it
'
s probable.
"
The fact was, she had the power to turn Mac
'
s suspicion upside-down with one short sentence:
"
I
'
ve accepted an offer from Phillip.
"
Obviously no one would bother with dirty tricks when money could do the job so much more pleasantly.
But to tell that to Mac would take more courage than Jane currently possessed. She needed a moment to gather her wits. Stalling for time, she carefully lifted the pale pink roses from their spilled vase and began adding them, one by one, into the pitcher that held the darker rugosa roses.
"
Isn
'
t this pink one incredible?
"
she remarked, holding her nose close to one of the yellow-stamened roses.
"
Such a strange, exotic fragrance. It
'
s called
'
Belle Amour.
' I swiped it from ..
. in town. It
'
s quite ancient; I looked it up. They say it was discovered in a German convent.
"
The scent really was remarkable: intensely fragrant, and yet faintly bitter. She
'
d never known anything like it.
"
Here. Smell,
"
she said, offering Mac the one she was holding. In the meantime she was thinking,
I have to tell him. I
have
to tell him.
He reacted with a daunting scowl.
"
What the hell is wrong with you? Have you heard anything I said? Do you understand that
Harrow
'
s undoubtedly the one behind the attempts to frighten the daylights out of you? That he
'
s the one who threw your laundry in the mud?
"
"
What can I tell you? You
'
re wrong,
"
she said calmly. She looked down to see that she
'
d pricked her finger yet again on the Belle Amour rose, this time in two places. She stared at the drops of blood in amazement. She was reminded of a friend who
'
d once crumpled a wineglass in her hand as she washed dishes during an argument with her lover. The friend, too, thought she was being perfectly normal, perfectly calm.
"
You
'
re bleeding,
"
Mac said in a low, tense voice.
"
No I
'
m not,
"
she answered stupidly.
"
Anyway,
"
she added, popping a Kleenex out of a nearby box and wrapping it around her finger,
"
I
'
ll think about what you said. Honestly I will. And thanks.
"
"
It
'
d be nice if you believed me,
"
Mac said with a dark look.
"
Phillip Harrow can be dangerous when it suits him.
"
"
Good grief,
"
she said gaily, trying to keep it light.
"
Next you
'
ll be saying he murdered his wife.
"
"
Her fall from the boat was very convenient,
"
Mac agreed, astonishing Jane with his bluntness.
"
She was a wealthy woman.
"
He
'
s obsessed,
Jane realized with dismay. And yet something
—
maybe his sudden, surprising candor
—
drove her to provoke him.
"
Where has all the money gone, in that case?
"
she demanded to know.
"
Phillip is strapped for cash. Everyone on the island knows that.
"
"
Everyone on the island knows what
Harrow
wants them to know.
"
"
I
'
ve heard very nice things about him,
"
she persisted, struggling to fit the last pink rose in the pitcher without pricking herself again.
"
And besides, why haven
'
t you taken your suspicions to the police?
"
"
Because they
'
re only that
—
suspicions. This is a small island. Reputation is everything. Trust me,
"
he added caustically.
"
On a more cynical note, I can
'
t afford a lawsuit for slander.
"
Jane turned away from her flower arrangement on the mantel and looked Mac straight in the eye.
"
Aren
'
t you taking a risk in telling
me,
in that case?
"
She saw a flash of the fire that she
'
d seen in his eyes the week before, under the Austrian pines. He turned away from her and leaned both hands into the mantel, pushing against it. He reminded her of a runner, stretching before he hit the road; she took it as a sign.
She was expecting some why-did-I-bother response from him. Instead Mac looked down at the brick hearth and shook his head and said,
"
If you don
'
t know that I trust you, Jane Drew, then you don
'
t know anything at all.
"
In its left
-
handed way, it was a wonderful compliment. Jane was deeply moved. It was no small thing for a man like Mac McKenzie to admit he trusted an off-island female who was on record as being in a hurry to cash in her piece of his beloved homeland. How could she possibly betray that trust? Instantly Jane resolved not to sell, not to leave
—
not while there was still hope.
She fiddled with the pitcher of roses on the mantel, trying to think of the right thing to say. One wrong move and he
'
d bolt.
And yet Mac didn
'
t seem inclined to bolt. He seemed inclined to stand on the hearth next to her, engulfed in the delicious, overpowering scent of the old-world roses. Even Jane, unconsciously aware that the faint bitterness of the Belle Amour rose had disappeared in the combined new scent of the two roses, was mesmerized.
"
Well, if you trust me, and if you
'
re worried about me,
"
Jane said softly,
"
then why
—
"
"
—
do I steer so clear of you?
"
he asked, anticipating her question. He took a deep breath and held it, then exhaled. When he turned to her there was a surprised look in his eyes, as if someone had spiked the office punch.
"
Why do you think? We
'
re a compl
ete mismatch, I ...
I
'
ve told you that,
"
he said vaguely. He seemed to be struggling to remember exactly what constituted a mismatch.
"
You have a master
'
s degree,
"
he said at last, picking up the thread of his thought.
"
Whereas I ha
ve a high school equivalency.
You
've circled the globe;
I
'
ve hardly been off the island
.
You have what my folks used to call expectations
... while
I
'
m up to my ears in mortgage debt
. I
don
'
t know,
"
he said, baffled and disoriented.
"
There must be other reasons
....
You say
tomahto
...
I say
tomayto
...
"
Something was happening between them. She could see it in his eyes; she could feel it coursing through her. He was smiling now, bemused and enchanted,
now
sliding his hands into the thick silk tresses of her hair, wrapping them once around, lowering his mouth closer to hers.
"Did I mention money ..
. that I don
'
t have any?
"
he asked in a dreamy, drunken voice.
"
That
'
s okay,
"
she said with a dizzy, champagne smile of her own.
"
I don
'
t have what you
'
re calling expectations, either.
"
"And another thing ..
. this urban thing,
"
he said, his brows still drawn in reverie.
"
I
'
m a country boy; I don
'
t think much of red lights
...."
She slipped her arms around his neck.
"
The light is green, Mac,
"
she whispered.
He brought his mouth down on hers in an open kiss of piercing sweetness; it was like the time he gave her the daffodil, without the daffodil. It simply took her breath away, that he could be so tender and so overwhelming at the same time. Jane had been kissed by gentle men, and she
'
d been kissed by strong men, but she
'
d never been kissed by the perfect man before.
This is it,
she thought with a kind of panicky ecstasy.
He
'
s ruined me for anyone else.
He kissed her again, a long,
lingering kiss that was light-
years different from their torrid encounter in the pine grove. She rejoiced in it, because this time, he was taking his time. There would be no impulsive dash into mindless passion, no wrenching away with agonies of second thoughts. This time they were in perfect accord. This time they had forever.
She lifted her head and their eyes met. Mac said simply,
"
Are you sure?
"
She threw her head back and chuckled, a rich sound of confidence that echoed deep in her throat.
"
Mac. My darling, deliberate Mac
—
does McDonald
'
s have arches?
"
"
What
'
s a McDonald
'
s?
"
he said through his smile, his mouth trailing to her throat.
She laughed out loud, amazed at the change in him, wondering how and why he
'
d decided to open his heart to her. But her happiness got swept away in a new and deeper thrill when he began to undo the metal buttons of her shirt, sliding it just away from her shoulders.
He dropped a feathery kiss on the outside curve of her shoulder and said,
"
I
'
ve wanted to do this since I saw you on the staging, scraping paint with Billy B.
"
He trailed a path of kisses from her shoulder to the hollow of her throat, murmuring,
"It was all I could do ..
. not to
knock Billy off the staging ..
. and take his place.
"
She moaned a delicious, vindicated moan.
"
Ah, Mac, I wish you had. It would
'
ve saved me so many sleepless nights.
"
"
Yeah, but Billy might not paint so well in traction.
"
Mac
'
s laugh was as shaky as his touch, as he skimmed the outline of her breasts with his fingertips.
"
Ah, love
...
I
'
ve wanted you much further back than that,
"
he said, sounding almost baffled by his own desire.