Eden's Spell (17 page)

Stunned, Katrina backed away from him.

“All you care about is those stupid, stinking flowers!”

It was the wrong side of too much. Katrina slapped him, and though she ached and hated herself after the motion—and hated the way he just pitifully stared at her—she simply turned away and walked back to the sofa. It was dark; the lights weren't on, but she didn't notice.

A minute later Jason was behind her, his arms around her neck. She pulled him around and held him to her. “Jason, I'm sorry. I'll go to the lab tomorrow myself and see what he's doing there. If I really believe it's okay, you can go whenever you want. Just let me see what he has in there, okay?”

Jason nodded, kissed her, and went to bed.

That night Al Stradford called her and asked her out to dinner on Friday night. “There's a brand new restaurant opening.”

“Yes, the Lucky Lobster. I've heard of it.”

“Well?”

“I—uh—I have to see about a baby-sitter,” Katrina hedged. She didn't really have a problem. On the few occasions she joined Frank or a friend for a night out, Jason slept over on Islamorada at Harry's. Harry never minded and Jason always felt as if he was getting to camp out.

She just didn't know if she wanted to go out with Al or not.

Dinner—that was the way it was supposed to be done! Get to know people gradually. Not just hop into bed. Not the way it had been with Mike Taylor.

But Al wasn't Mike Taylor, and that was why she hesitated.

Al was charming and pleasant, and there really wasn't a reason in the world that she shouldn't go to dinner with him.

“Call me back tomorrow night? I'll let you know for sure.”

The next morning she brought Jason into school and returned her own little launch to the small cove by Harry's where she kept it docked. Nervously, she remembered her promise to Jason and started down the trail to the silver structure set up there.

The door was open. Katrina stood there, not going in, just waiting for her eyes to adjust to the artificial light. There was movement within, and she realized that there were cages full of possums and squirrels lining shelves along the walls. There was a table in the center of the room. The setup did remind her a little of a mad scientist's laboratory, and she had to smile.

“Just set them on the table, please.”

Startled by the voice, she jumped, and she realized that just inside, to her right, Mike was sitting on a stool, staring at something through a microscope on a tall-legged desk.

She smiled a little ruefully. “I—uh—haven't got anything to put on the table.”

He looked up immediately. For a single instant she thought that his eyes lit up with pleasure; but then they changed as he leaned back on the stool, watching her guardedly.

“Mrs. Denver. What a surprise.”

She walked on into the room, feeling a little desperate.
Don't you remember?
she wanted to shout.
Remember that you held me and touched me, and offered a tenderness that I thought was magic?

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Denver?” he asked her politely, very much the scientist in a white lab coat.

She stopped where she stood, about five feet from him. “I told Jason last night that he couldn't come here anymore.”

“Why?”

He was suddenly on his feet, very tall, scowling darkly. Before she could think of a reply to his explosive question, he was closing the distance between them, grasping her shoulders, drawing her to him tensely.

“Damn it, Katrina, I still think your personal problem is with yourself—not me. But I can't seem to make you listen to anything I have to say. Then to go so far as to hurt the boy out of spite!”

“It's not spite!” she raged. Oh, God! Why had she bothered to come? This was worse, being held by him, feeling the heat of his body touch hers, but not his body itself.

She tried to pull away from him, but he held her too tightly.

“Captain Taylor”—Katrina gasped for breath—“try to understand. Jason was drugged! I came upon him in your arms! He might have been … And he's my only child! Please, this isn't spite! I just want to make sure that …”

Her voice trailed away. For a precious moment his body touched hers as he pulled her close, rubbing the back of her neck intimately with gentle fingers, murmuring against the strands of her hair.

“I didn't think…. I'm sorry. Really sorry.”

Then he pulled away from her, holding her at arm's length to smile. “Katrina, there's nothing here he can get into. Honest to God. Anything even remotely dangerous is in the locked cabinets, over there. When Jason is here, I watch him very carefully. I let him see the animals. Hold the possums—”

“Possums bite!” Katrina protested feebly.

“Not these possums!” he assured her. “Come on, I'll show you.” He led her eagerly over to one of the cages, and she loved the light in his eyes when he tried to explain what he was doing. “I've tried injected doses on these guys, and I think I've got it just about right.” He laughed. “No more of that awful copulating all over the place!”

She met his eyes. They both remembered the squirrels, and she blushed, then laughed, then blushed again, remembering herself.

“Anyway, see?” He opened the cage and drew out the possum. Katrina hesitated. When she had been in school, a friend had once received a nasty bite from one of them.

“Take him!”

She must have had a lot of faith in him, because she reached out for the creature. He snuggled right into her arms.

“Okay, he's agreeable now, but—”

Mike was shaking his head. “I swear, Katrina, I don't let Jason touch any of them if I'm not totally certain of their harmlessness.”

She nodded, lowering her head. “Jason was—uh—very hurt. He'll be happy now, I guess.”

Mike set the possum back into its cage. Then he turned to her, leaning against it, his eyes curiously cryptic.

“And what about his mother?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Don't you?”

His hand came to her face, his palm cupping her chin, his thumb stroking her cheek. She couldn't move, could only stare at him, fascinated by his gesture, by the touch she lived with in her dreams each night, but could no longer accept.

What did he really want from her? she wondered achingly, and in a second she knew. Because his head bent and his lips touched hers, and before she knew what she was doing, she was fused with him, like a moth to flame, sighing deep in her throat. She leaned easily against his chest, feathered the hair at his nape through her fingers, savored in sweet mindlessness the mercurial heat of his tongue, giving her body a new pulse.

This was where she wanted to be, against his heartbeat, against the power and strength and warmth of him, held and cherished and loved….

Unbidden, the memory of his words to Amy in the hallway came to her mind. “Hi, gorgeous!” Was Amy one of his conquests? And, oh, God, hadn't she herself been the easiest conquest of all?

His hand was on her, familiarly, possessively. Firm, moving around her hip, caressing her breast …

“No!”

She broke away from him, turning her back to him. Even then she felt him stiffen.

“All right, Katrina. Hang me. Hang me because you're a coward. Run. Cocoon yourself in the island. Go ahead. Hate me because you've discovered that you're not a saint, that you want me.”

It was so close to the truth. She swung around defiantly. “Wrong, Captain. I don't live in a cocoon. I'm rather aware of the world. I do, in fact, have a date for Friday night.”

“With who?” His eyes narrowed sharply as he stepped forward, grasping her wrist. She tried to free herself and failed, and so stared up at him. “Al Stradford. Now let me go!”

“Don't go out with him,” Mike said tensely.

“Why ever not? I like his style. And he asked me out to dinner, not to bed.”

“I hadn't realized that I was dealing with a woman who could be bought.”

“Speak for yourself, Captain. You're the one who's been attempting to buy me, attempting to buy my silence!”

“Oh, for God's sake, sue me! Let's get past it! Then we can get on to you, lady. I'm not afraid; you are.”

“Let me go.”

“Oh, I am. Right now. But I'm going to ask you one more time, Katrina—don't go with him.”

She tossed her head back. “Why? Because of your rivalry? Is there nothing else to gamble or bet on but who will she and who will she not go out with? Well, sorry, Taylor, I find him charming. You lost this one.”

He shook his head slowly. “I'll be damned if I'll lose this one, Katrina. You don't even know what the stakes are.” He let go of her arm, smiled grimly, and indicated the door.

“There you go. Freedom. Just be very careful with it, Katrina. And bear this in mind: When it's over, I promise that I will be the winner. I gamble very, very carefully.”

She didn't understand him at all. All that she saw was the silver threat in his eyes, and the open door.

And his hand, indicating it.

She fled, wondering how his touch could be such magic.

And the lack of it such an utter hell.

J
ASON WAS AT HARRY'S.
Al had been charming so far, yet Katrina was still feeling a chill of panic. What in God's name was she doing out with the man?

The problem was that she knew the answer; she was out to spite Michael Taylor, and it was really a sorry reason. At the bar with Al she ordered a vodka martini, then wondered why she had; she could barely sip the things. When they were seated, she ordered another.

He took her hand once their drinks were served. She managed not to wrench it away, grateful when the waitress came for their orders. They decided to start with conch chowder and conch fritters, then share the red snapper and the grouper.

“If a restaurant is going to make it in the Keys,” Katrina told Al teasingly, finally retrieving her hand, “it has to do a good job with grouper, snapper, and conch!”

He chuckled, then told her which fish to order in various parts of the world. She asked him about the places he had been, and in turn, he asked her about the, groups she took out to the reefs for diving and snorkeling. It was easy, very easy.

Until Katrina felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to see her mother-in-law standing behind her.

“Oh!” she gasped out, and the color instantly bled from her face, though she couldn't have said exactly why. Nancy Denver was smiling very pleasantly, happy as always to see her.

“Mom!” Katrina cried, hopping to her feet. She embraced the older woman, then remembered that she had an introduction to make.

“Mom, this is Captain Al Stradford of the Navy. Al, this is my mother-in-law, Nancy Denver.”

As always, Al was perfectly circumspect, standing, offering Nancy a seat, making all the proper remarks.

“Would you like a drink, Mrs. Denver?” Al asked.

“No, Captain, thank you.” She smiled at Katrina, and Katrina felt a bit like dying. Her mother-in-law was still such a lovely woman, tall and thin as James had been, with beautiful, clean-cut features and huge dark eyes that never failed to remind Katrina of both her husband and her son. Except that Nancy's eyes carried a hint of tragedy; one that would never go away. Being a mother, Katrina understood. A woman could never, never lose a child and learn to come to terms with it completely.

“Dad's at the bar. I think our table is about ready.”

“You're welcome to join us!” Katrina said quickly. Did Al's eyes narrow a bit with displeasure at her invitation? Katrina wasn't sure, and though it was rude, she really didn't care. She suddenly felt horrible, as if she had been caught playing with matches as a child. Yet Nancy wasn't acting that way; she was behaving as if it were perfectly normal to run into Katrina on a date.

She shook her head. “Thanks, dear, but no thanks. We're here with Frank and a friend of his. How's Jason?”

“Fine, Mom. Anxious to see you. As soon as the Navy—”

Nancy smiled at Al. “Yes dear. I'd heard you had some Navy men there, studying wildlife, is it?”

“Yes!” Katrina said quickly.

“Captain, I hope you won't mind if Katrina brings you by our table later. My husband will be awfully disappointed if he doesn't get a chance to say hello.”

Al was on his feet, perfectly polite, as soon as Nancy rose. “Of course, Mrs. Denver. It will be a pleasure to meet your husband.”

Nancy smiled and gave Katrina a little wave and moved back into the crowd.

“She's a lovely woman,” Al said.

“Yes, she is,” Katrina replied. And she tried very hard to smile. After all, Al hadn't done a thing wrong. Not a damn thing. But Katrina was miserable. She wanted to rush to her mother-in-law and cry out that it was only dinner, only dinner.

With this man, yes, it was only dinner. But there was another man with whom it had been much, much more.

She promptly ordered another martini.

“I think Toni's planning on a medical career,” Mike told Amy, who had wisely brought up the subject of his only offspring to keep his mind occupied. Amy and Mike were old friends; he'd told her the truth about the evening. Al had told Stan where he was taking Katrina; Stan had told Mike. Mike had decided to keep an eye on the pair, and with a weary sigh, Amy had agreed to accompany him. “Toni is a good kid, she'll do well,” Amy told Mike, sipping her champagne. Her eyes narrowed; Mike had turned as red as a beet.

“Hey—your eyes are about to fall out, Captain. Get them nonchalantly back into your head and tell me what's happening.”

“That's her mother-in-law Stradford is meeting!”

Amy laughed. “How in hell can you know that?”

“Because I've seen her picture,” Mike murmured distractedly. God, he felt like a kid again! All tied up in knots inside because Al Stradford had met someone close to her before he'd had a chance to himself!