Eden's Spell (16 page)

“No” was his unexpected answer. “Al and Mike just have bad chemistry.” He grinned, studying her features. “We've all been career military. Al, Stan, and me. We've been around a lot together. I think if the chips were really down, the two of them would pull together. In fact, Mike pulled Al out of a burning ship once, back in Nam. Maybe it's hard to like the guy who saved you, I don't know. They're both good doctors, good men. They just have this thing about each other, you know.”

“Two forty-year-olds acting like kids?”

Stan chuckled sheepishly. “Kind of.”

“What is it that you want to know from me, Stan?” Katrina asked him softly.

He had the grace to blush. “I guess I want to know what you're feeling about the whole thing.”

“Did Captain Taylor send you?”

“Hell, no! Mike would never send anyone to—” He broke off. “Sorry. No, I guess I'm just concerned.”

“Then I'll tell you, in all honesty, that I don't know what I feel at all right now,” Katrina said softly. “I have to figure things out myself first, okay?”

“Fair enough,” he told her, standing. “Mind if I come back to see you now and then?”

“To keep probing?”

“No, 'cause you're the best-looking thing these eyes have seen in a long, long time.”

“I don't believe that!” Katrina laughed. “I've just met a Navy nurse.”

“Oh, Amy. Yeah, Amy's pretty. But she's old hat. Like living with a sister.”

Katrina laughed, quite certain that Amy could never really be old hat to anyone. But she liked Stan, no matter what he was up to.

She raised her hands. “I promised the Navy three days, Stan. I guess I'll be here.”

He smiled. “Oh! One more thing! Your brother-in-law is here. We told him you had bruised ribs from a falling palm branch, and that we're here to study flora and fauna. Okay?”

“Ah, yes, I guess so.”

Lying to Frank wouldn't be easy.

Telling him the whole truth would be far worse!

Frank arrived soon after Stan left. “Hiya, kid!” he greeted her, giving her a quick hug, then looking around.

“Frank, I'm twenty-seven. You're twenty-five. I'm not the kid.”

He whistled softly, dark eyes darting from the bed to the VCR. “Cushy setup. Not bad. A three-day paid vacation with everything you could want at your fingertips.”

Katrina shook her head, wondering for a moment what Frank had gotten into. They'd always been close, even before she had married James. And when James had died, they'd naturally come even closer. They'd had to keep afloat together, and they'd done it very well.

“Have you been drinking?”

“Just one Scotch in the dining room, short stuff.”

She hesitated just a second. “What are you doing here?”

“I was at McHennesy's getting ready to light out and make sure you and Jason had gotten through the storm okay. I came back with him to see how you were—you know Frank to the rescue! Then I learned that the Navy had already been to the rescue. A sailor to help you through the storm, and now hospital care for you both. I'm impressed—and damned glad.”

She sniffed: “I'm not. This is very inconvenient.”

“Why?”

“Why? Don't we have a fishing party coming up?”

“So? I can handle it.”

“Are you insinuating I'm not needed?”

He laughed. “No, partner, nothing like that.” His dark eyes flashed. “You are, however, best at assuring our customers of a decorative view for the day!”

“Thanks! Hey, who's senior partner here?”

He ignored her. “And I've a new, luscious blond girlfriend who fills the bill admirably.”

“Well! The hell with you!” she retorted playfully. “Besides, there's my social life that's being inconvenienced….”

“What social life, Kat?” He interrupted her very softly.

“Frank, if you came to sit there and insult me …”

“I didn't come to insult you. I just spoke the truth. You live like a hermit.” He paused. “James wouldn't have wanted that.” He didn't give her a chance to reply, but continued on. “This is an interesting situation. The Navy is here, and you're getting shook up a little bit. I like it.”

“Frank!” She moaned. “Go home!”

He laughed, tousling her hair. “I am going home. I just wanted to see you, short stuff.”

“You've seen me! Let me suffer in peace!”

“Bye, Kat. Take care. I'll see you soon, huh? And don't worry about anything, just make sure that everything is okay. They say they're keeping Jason with you. That's great too. He loves it. Really, that they should be so concerned …”

“It's wonderful. Just wonderful,” Katrina murmured. He frowned curiously at her reply, then kissed her forehead. “Take care. Call me as soon as you're home.”

He started to leave, then paused in the doorway. “By the way, I like that Taylor guy. Jason does too.”

“He's just a doll,” Katrina said acidly.

Frank lifted a brow. “My, my, the Kat's got her claws bared, watch out!”

She smiled sweetly. “Frank, go home.”

He grinned. “Bye.”

Jason came in next, all excited. Mike, it seemed, had gotten permission from the admiral to show him all around the ship. He talked nonstop to Katrina for about half an hour. She finally managed to ask him if he had spoken with his grandmother Matty. “Oh, she's mad. At you. Says you should have come over and talked to her too. Grandpa said that she should hush up, though. That you were a big girl.”

Katrina grimaced, but decided she'd better ask for a phone and call her mother before she could call her. She talked to both her parents, swearing that she was fine, promising to see them soon. The story had already spread that the Navy was there, studying something-or-the-other. Mathilda wanted to rush over to see Katrina's “poor ribs,” but Katrina's father managed to calm her down and free Katrina from the phone with a loving “We'll see you soon, kitten, as soon as it's convenient.”

Then Amy came in, patient and ready to listen to Jason's nonstop excitement, too, and managed to get his blood pressure, a blood sample, a temperature, and everything else she needed from him at the same time.

Dinner came next, served on trays by the chief petty officer. Katrina and Jason managed to eat on her bed, with the trays between them.

The admiral came to say good-night and to warn her that he'd be spending a lot of time with her the next day. Then Al Stradford came by to say good-night; he was very polite and charming.

When he left, Jason went into his own bed, exhausted from the day's excitement.

Katrina lay awake a long time, burning miserably inside. What had she expected from Mike? she asked herself bitterly. And what did she want from him?

Nothing! she told herself, and in time she finally drifted to sleep.

She woke strangely, slowly, with the sensation that someone was watching her. Someone was. He was sitting in the recliner, staring at her patiently, as if he knew his presence could wake her up.

As soon as her eyes touched his, she sat up, as wary as if he were a snake. “What are you doing here?” she demanded hoarsely.

“It's the first chance I've had to come by.”

“I don't want to see you. I only agreed to do this because the admiral said that he was taking charge.”

“Don't worry, Mrs. Denver,” he said coolly. “I'm not your doctor.”

“Then why are you here?” She didn't know why she was lashing out at him so bitterly. Yes, she did. It had just been last night that she had walked into his room, last night that he had held her so tenderly and forced her to make love with her eyes open, forced her to admit her desires, enjoy them, enjoy him, and fall a little bit in love with him because of his strength and his care and his vital masculinity.

And then this morning—the terrible truth!

His sandy head bent slightly. “I wanted to tell you, too, that I've taken a leave of absence.”

“What?” She frowned, and he smiled mockingly.

“Sorry, I will still be around on the island. But I asked for a leave of absence because I believe it's me you want to hang, not the entire military.” He stood, and she looked away. She didn't want to watch him because she'd want to touch him. His hands, with their tapering fingers and neatly clipped nails. His shoulders, muscles occasionally straining against the white of his shirt when he moved. His eyes, with all their silver-and-steel magic. “I'll still be working, but working on my own.”

“For the Navy,” she murmured.

“For—and removed from. Good night, Mrs. Denver.”

She rolled on her side, turning her back to him. He paused, smiling bitterly. Her hair looked like a blanket of fire against the white of the sheets. His hands itched to touch it; he wanted to shake her, to tell her that what they had was unique and beautiful, and that she had to see it.

“By the way, I'm thirty-eight—not forty.”

The door closed behind him and she swung around, wincing. So Stan Thorpe had repeated their conversation together. What had she said to Stan Thorpe?

Katrina spent the morning being poked and prodded, albeit very gently, by the admiral. She was amazed by the facilities on the ship, and even more amazed to gaze out the window and see that a silver dome was rising on her island.

“That's the lab,” the admiral told her. He grinned, proud of his achievements. “It will be up and functional by tonight.”

Katrina was glad that no strobes were attached to her then, because she knew her heartbeat had quickened. “I understand that Captain Taylor has taken a leave of absence.”

“Yes,” the admiral said, and he looked at her curiously. “He seems to feel that you're angry with him, and not us. Is that so, Mrs. Denver? If you've a reason, you should let me know.”

She hoped to hell that they didn't have a lie detector among the gadgets on board.

“No, no reason,” she said flatly.

The admiral didn't push the point. He went in to see Jason, and Katrina bit down on her lip.

Katrina endured another day of being poked and prodded. She and Jason watched an action-adventure film on the VCR, played Go Fish and gin rummy, and ate their meals in their rooms. Jason thought that it was all great fun.

At night Stan came back to bring her tea again. He just sat awhile, joking lightly about military procedure and doctors in general. She was angry because he'd obviously repeated their previous conversation to Mike, but she really liked him and enjoyed his company.

Everyone seemed to come by, except for Michael.

Right as she turned off all her lights to fall asleep, Katrina heard voices outside her door.

“Hi, gorgeous. How's it going?” It was Mike.

“The usual. The kid is a luv. Mrs. Denver is wary, but very cooperative and pleasant.”

“Jason is great.”

Katrina gritted her teeth together as she heard Mike emphasizing the fact that Jason was wonderful. His omission of her was definite declaration that he thought her a witch.

“What are you doing later?”

“Nothing—I'm off at eleven.”

“Stan and I are going to Marathon for drinks. Want to come?”

“Sure thing, Doc. I'll see you then.”

Footsteps moved away, and Katrina seethed. He was making a date with the gorgeous nurse.

He wasn't even going to ask how she was doing!

She slammed her fist into her pillow.
Mike Taylor!
she thought.
I hope you run into another reef! I hope the sharks eat you! I hope
—

“Mrs. Denver? Are you all right?”

The beautiful nurse, kindly concerned, was standing by her bed. “Can I get you anything?”

Yes, bring me the head of Michael Taylor!

She smiled. “No, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just restless. I didn't mean to alarm you.”

“I'm here to be called if you should need me,” Amy protested sincerely. She smiled. “And Lucy will be on duty all night. Don't hesitate if you need a thing!”

Katrina wished her a pleasant good-night. Then she lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, feeling the sea move beneath her.

On the third day, just as he had promised, the admiral released her and Jason, thanking them profusely, giving them both an entirely clean bill of health, and reminding them that for the time being, they had promised to keep things confidential.

Katrina was elated to get back to her house, to freedom. The only flaw, of course, was the prefab laboratory sitting beside one of the pools: the lab where Mike Taylor would be working.

It was Friday, a week since she had met him. She decided to let Jason stay out of school for the remainder of that last day. Most of the kids had missed several days, anyway, while they had cleaned up after the storm.

She had Harry over for a barbecue. On Sunday she went into church; on Tuesday she and Frank took out a rowdy fishing party. The Navy remained just off the beach.

The admiral called her from time to time from the ship, to ask how she was doing. Stan Thorpe called her too. Al Stradford sent flowers and called.

But she didn't hear from Mike Taylor, not directly. She did get to hear about him from Jason, about all the wonderful things that he was doing in his laboratory, about the animals, the flowers.

“He lets you into the laboratory?” Katrina asked her son, suddenly furious all over again. What was the matter with the man? Hadn't he done enough harm? “I don't want you in there!”

Jason immediately gave her a belligerent look, as if she was denying him a great pleasure out of pure meanness.

He went into his room and shut the door.

Katrina paced the living room, then went to his door and tapped on it.

“Jason, please listen to me. I don't know what is going on in that lab. I—”

“He'd never hurt me! Never, never—and you know it!” Jason cried out defiantly. Then suddenly his door was thrown open, and he was staring at her with tear-filled eyes. “So he doesn't send flowers like that blond guy! He cares about you. He really cares about you! And he doesn't have to do things like send flowers—you just don't see it!”