Destination Romance

by Barbara McMahon

  'Look at this!' Marlise held up a bolt of material in a beautiful pink, with various shadings delineating large tropical leaves. It was soft cotton, and quite expensive. 'Wish I had the money to buy it. I need yards and yards, though. It's too much.' She looked through other racks, talking casually. 'Wish I had the money your friend Michael must have, Katie.'

  Katie's attention was immediately caught, and held. 'What makes you say that?' she asked.

  'He must have plenty. He bought a bracelet from the gift shop this afternoon. It was beautiful and not inexpensive. He just wrote a check for it.'

  'For the voluptuous Miss Bowman?' Debbie asked, throwing a glance at Katie.

  'Well, I guess so; who else? She was in with him and they were looking over things. He came back some time later and bought the bracelet—one of those gold ones that are all little conch-shells; do you know which ones I mean?'

  Katie nodded, the constriction in her throat preventing speech. She knew which one—small, delicate, utterly beautiful. The conch-shell was the emblem of Key West. The bracelet Marlise mentioned was delicately wrought of gold. Katie had seen it several times, admired it, and now Michael had bought it for Elizabeth.

  Her spirits dropped. Something that expensive was not a trifle to be bought for a casual friend.

  'Well, money likes money, and now that Elizabeth has appeared on the scene we don't see much of Michael,' Debbie commented. 'Though Katie went snorkeling with them yesterday.'

  'Tell us, Katie, are they an item? How did they behave?' Marlise's eyes sparkled with romantic thoughts.

  'It's hard to say,' Katie said slowly. 'I guess I would have thought them friends.'

  Debbie nodded. 'Good breeding—they aren't going to show their feelings in public.'

  'So that means you and Rick don't have good breeding?' Marlise teased. 'You're always holding hands and sneaking kisses when you think no one is looking.'

  'Nothing of the sort. Anyway, I think it's too soon to see much between Michael and Miss Bowman—they just met a few days ago. And before that I always thought our Michael was making a play for Katie.' Debbie glanced at Katie again.

  Katie looked up at both pairs of eyes fixed on her, awaiting her reaction. She shrugged. 'Guess not. Look at this material, Marlise. Don’t you love it?'

  She was desperate to change the subject. She did not want to have to talk about Michael and Elizabeth. The main reason she came this afternoon was to escape thoughts of the two of them, not to end up discussing them.

  The outing wasn't working. Katie patiently waited until Marlise had found her material and purchased it, then excused herself from the rest of the afternoon.

  'I've got some grocery shopping I need to get done,' she explained.

  Debbie looked at her with a funny expression, but said nothing. They parted at the corner of Duval and Green Street, Marlise and Debbie to hunt up other friends at JoJos, and Katie to head towards home and the shopping she claimed awaited her.

  Duval Street was alive with people shopping, sightseeing and stopping for refreshments at the various outdoor cafes that dotted the street. Katie wove in and out of the people heading towards Mallory Square and the nightly sunset festivities. Their happiness and excitement only emphasized her own loneliness and confusion. She'd buy her groceries and have a quiet night, she decided. After the wakeful one before, she would relish an early night.

  'Katie.' A familiar voice from one of the sidewalk café tables called.

  Katie stopped and looked around. Elizabeth Bowman beckoned from under an umbrella. She had a colorful drink in front of her and several bags on the chair beside her. She appeared to be alone. Katie hesitated a moment, then walked towards her.

  'Have a seat.' The dark-haired woman gestured to the empty chair at her table. 'I wanted a chance to talk to you—I'm glad I saw you passing.'

  Katie pulled out the chair and sat down, her eyes wary as she looked at Elizabeth. She wasn’t sure this was wise. She wished she hadn’t left the security of her friends.

  Elizabeth gave a nervous little laugh. 'This is more awkward than I anticipated. For your own good I felt I should speak to you. You mustn't misconstrue the attentions of the guests in the hotel, you know.'

  Katie stared at her, suspecting exactly where she was leading, but wondering how far she would actually go. Did Michael have any idea Elizabeth was talking to her she wondered.

  'Guests are often friendly with the hotel help. You live here, you can advise us where the best places are to shop, or swim or eat. In exchange for that kind of advice some guests may treat the hotel staff to an outing or give a larger tip. Do you understand what I'm talking about?' Elizabeth floundered.

  Katie's eyes danced with suppressed amusement, but she solemnly shook her head. This was Elizabeth's show; let her run it.

  'You're making a fool of yourself over Michael Donovan!' Elizabeth snapped, losing all patience. 'I doubt the hotel would look kindly on a maid who abused the privilege of her master key to let herself into a guest's room uninvited and sat waiting for his return.'

  Katie's eyes widened slightly, but she remained silent. Miss Bowman was very correct in her assessment and it would not do to have her report her to the management of the hotel. But she refused to let the woman know that that threat had any power.

  'Dammit, stay away from Michael Donovan!' Elizabeth stormed, losing her temper completely.

  Katie sat up straight in her chair and said in a soft voice, 'I have known Michael Donovan for a long time. I have never known him to have others fight his battles for him. If he finds me an embarrassment, he will certainly let me know. He doesn't need someone else doing it for him. I think it’s you who are embarrassed by my being around, Miss Bowman.'

  She stood up and looked down at the dark-haired woman. 'When Michael tells me to stay away, I will. Good afternoon.' And with her head held high, Katie left the small cafe and continued down Duval Street.

  Would Elizabeth tell Michael of their encounter? One day soon he’d probably tell her he didn't want to see her, Katie, again. But until then, Elizabeth wouldn’t have the last word.

  She didn't know how she'd bear it if he told her that. But she’d find a way. She had pushed for the divorce, not Michael.

  When she reached home, after stopping at the neighborhood market for a few things, she was surprised to find a letter awaiting her. She rarely got mail, unless it was the notice for monthly rent. The return address indicated O'Mally, Evans and Stuart–the lawyers handling her divorce.

  A wave of nausea washed through her, and her hands began to tremble. Did this contain the final papers? Michael had said it would take a few months.

  Entering the apartment, she went to the kitchen, carefully putting away the few groceries she had purchased. She poured herself a glass of iced tea and sat down, letter in hand. For a long time she stared at it. Addressed to her in elegant typeset, the prestigious Boston return address embossed on the envelope did nothing but cause a myriad of conflicting thoughts to crowd in.

  Finally, with a sigh of resignation, she slit the envelope and slowly withdrew the paper. It was a letter. As she read it, her shock grew. It was not the final divorce papers—that process was moving along. What shocked her was the last paragraph:

  And, per the instructions of Mr. Michael Donovan, we are contacting you to ascertain if there are any personal items in the property that you wish to have before the property is sold. Your personal effects, clothes, jewels and make-up will be forwarded to the address of your choosing. Our client also asked us to forward any other items of your choosing to the aforementioned address.

  Michael was selling the house!

  She was stunned. Tears welled in her eyes, spilled over and ran unheeded over her cheeks. She remembered his bringing her to it when they were first married. Remembered him showing off all the beautiful furnishings with almost boyish pride. She’d found it impressive and cold, like a museum, but in those days she’d had such high hopes to change it, fill it with lov
e and laughter and children. He loved that house. It represented the long hard climb he’d made from the childhood he’d had to success.

  However, none of the things she had longed for at the time of their marriage had happened. For years it had merely been a place to eat and sleep.

  She had never liked it, but it had been her home for seven years. Michael’s pride and joy.

  Now it was gone. As their life together was gone. This, more than anything else, showed her their marriage was truly over.

  How like Michael to plunge ahead without consulting her, without even notifying her. He’d spoken with her a dozen times, yet never mentioned selling the house. He hadn't changed after all. He was still ruthless, and hard, and quick to make decisions that suited him—paying no attention to anyone else.

  She gazed dully into space.

  She knew him. Despite it all, she still longed for him with an intensity that was startling.

  Katie sat a long time at the table, reviewing their life together, trying to see where she should have done things differently, could have done things differently. Darkness fell, and still she sat, the letter in front of her, her tea forgotten and the tears dried on her face.

  She was homesick. Now that it was too late, far too late, a fierce homesickness welled up and threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted the familiarity of her house, her acquaintances, her committee work and the streets of Boston that she knew so well. She wanted to see her aunt, hear her lecture on Katie's duty and responsibilities in the old society that was Boston.

  But most of all she wanted to be with Michael when he met people; watch him work at the business he did so well; be proud of him for his accomplishments and have him be proud of her for what she could contribute.

  Feeling a hundred years old, she rose and switched on the lights, getting paper and pen. Writing first to the attorneys and then to her aunt, Katie arranged her future. She wanted nothing from the house, her clothes could go to her aunt's place, and she would decide later which, if any, she wanted sent on to her at Key West.

  She felt old, tired and drained. Her newfound freedom mocked her. She didn't want it. She wanted Michael. Her dislike for her old life faded. Seeing Michael again, she longed to return with him. Their lives had changed; she had changed enough so that she could make their future different from the past. Their life together would be different now, would be so enriched just by their being together.

  Except that she had thrown it away. And now there was Elizabeth. Michael gave no indication he wanted to resume their life, no indication that he wanted to see Katie at all. He seemed quite taken with Elizabeth.

  Just before she went to bed, Katie remembered their outing on Tuesday. She'd have that to look forward to. Could she bring the conversation around to themselves, lead him to reveal his feelings, see if he would want to try again?

  Or would it be their last time together?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tuesday morning Katie awoke with mixed expectations. Would she and Michael get along or be at cross-purposes all day? She'd been looking forward to the day since her meeting with Elizabeth. If that woman was not sure of Michael, maybe Katie was wrong in thinking he was interested in her.

  She hoped he'd meant it when he said Elizabeth wouldn't be accompanying them. Surely he couldn't be totally taken with her if he left her behind today.

  Katie hadn't seen him in person–just from the hall window when he was lying by the pool. Once or twice she thought he'd seen her at the window, but she couldn't be sure. She'd stepped back quickly each time, yet again and again was drawn to the scene by the pool. She ached with loneliness and longing. Her heart ached watching him enjoy himself with someone else. Yet unable to stop herself from gazing at him.

  She dressed in a brief two-piece turquoise swimsuit. Pulling on a matching cover-up that came to the tops of her thighs, she put her snorkeling equipment, sunscreen and towels in her tote. She was ready.

  A knock sounded on the door. Opening it wide, she smiled involuntarily when she saw Michael. Her relief was almost tangible. She’d been worried all week he’d call with an excuse to cancel the excursion.

  He wore faded denim shorts, an old cotton shirt opened to the waist–and he looked as if he’d combed his hair with an eggbeater.

  'I like your hairstyle.' She grinned up at him, the day suddenly perfect.

  His eyes were smiling as he reached out to draw his fingers down her cheek. 'I thought you would. Ready?'

  'Yes.'

  'Did you eat?'

  'A while ago.' She didn’t want him to know she’d been up since five in anticipation of their day.

  'Good,' he said as she picked up her tote. He escorted her to the taxi he had waiting. Katie slid across the back seat to the opposite door and placed her bag on the seat between her and Michael. Looking at him shyly, she didn't know what to make of his picking her up; she could have met him at the dock.

  He climbed in, moved the bag to the floor and pulled Katie closer to him. She looked startled, but made no comment. How could she? Her heart was in her throat. The heat from Michael's body, scant inches from her own, generated electrical impulses that sparked currents of delight throughout her being. While she kept her eyes firmly to the front, every inch of her concentrated on the man beside her. Her nerve-endings quivered for his touch and it took great restraint to prevent herself from flinging herself into his arms.

  The cab drove to Front Street, and pulled up near the pier where the sleek white diving boat awaited. It was the same boat they had sailed on last week for the snorkel trip. When Katie climbed aboard, she looked for the other passengers. Were they early?

  Once Michael had joined her, the skipper cast off and the big boat headed for the coral reef. 'Are we the only ones?' Katie asked as they got under way.

  'Yes. I chartered the boat for the day, for the two of us. I understand we can only dive for short periods of time, with a couple of hours' rest in between, so I wanted us to get the most out of the day,' Michael explained as he sat near her on the bench seat.

  Spray from the bow blew gently across them as the boat headed crossways to the breeze from the Gulf. The sky was a deep clear blue, the water only a shade darker. The air caressed them as the breeze tried to outrun the boat.

  Katie discarded her cover-up and felt the warmth from the sun kiss her skin. It felt wonderful. She loved Key West and its climate. She was looking forward to learning how to scuba-dive.

  She glanced over and saw Michael's gaze on her. She smiled shyly and looked back towards the bow. He moved to sit beside her, one hand trailing across her ribs. Her heart jumped, began beating again.

  'Have you lost weight?' he asked over the muffled roar of the engines.

  She shook her head, refusing to answer. That would give rise to questions and speculation—to confessions she was not willing to make.

  'Well, you're too thin, then,' he said in her ear.

  She turned; his face was mere inches from hers. 'I think it comes from being more active down here.' Her voice trailed off as his lips descended on hers.

  His lips were demanding, the kiss intense. To her it was glorious. She turned to face him, open to his kiss, wanting to give him as much delight as he was giving her, her mouth moving beneath his, her tongue reaching out to taste him, feel his mouth open, draw her in. The pounding of the heavy diesel engines matched the pounding in her ears as she lost track of time. Did the kiss last for long endless moments, or eons? Was the erotic touch of his tongue and lips a dream or reality?

  Heat and desire and longing arose, warred and crashed over her. His mouth evoked waves of delight, pleasures remembered from other kisses on Key West, learned but recently, and longed for endlessly.

  Katie reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, but Michael broke contact, carefully setting her away from him. His eyes gazed down into hers as he moved back a couple of feet, putting distance between them.

  ‘You’re too dangerous. We’re here to learn to scuba dive, nothin
g more.’

  Katie's eyes mirrored the hurt and bewilderment his rejection caused. She turned slowly to face the front, her shoulders drooping slightly. Had he remembered Elizabeth? Was that the reason to stop?

  She’d bring all the pride of her family to front and show him he could not daunt a Harrington. She had often played a role when hostessing for him; she could do it one more time.

  When the boat reached the reef, the skipper and his assistant instructed Michael and Katie on how to use the scuba equipment, how to dive, and what to watch for while diving. Each person was responsible for donning his or her own gear, but the partner had to check it to make sure it was on securely and correctly. This was demonstrated for them, then they had to do it for each other.

  Katie double-checked Michael's straps, making sure they weren’t twisted, and were securely fastened. She had to stand close to him, and her hands fluttered against his shoulders as she tested the belt, the warmth from his skin adding to the warmth she felt from the sun. Her heart pounded as she remembered their kiss. She wished he hadn’t ended it.

  When she was satisfied, he checked hers, his fingers slipping beneath the straps on her shoulders to verify they were not too tight, moving slowly inside the strap, brushing lightly against her heated skin, causing her to forget the lesson, forget the others on the boat and seek his eyes. Her body felt as malleable as soft rubber and she swayed towards him, her eyes alight. He gazed back at her, then he turned abruptly away, a frown on his face.

  Katie turned away feeling foolish. She had to concentrate on what they were being taught, not imagine an interest that wasn’t there. This might be her only chance to learn to scuba-dive. She'd make the most of it.