Destination Romance

by Barbara McMahon

'We have never been close, Katie. I'm not a warm woman. Not the way your mother was. My brother loved her so much. I was so sorry to lose them together, but I don't think Thomas would ever have been happy again if your mother had died before him. You're all I have left of family now.'

  'I know.' Katie felt a wave of love for her aunt. She'd done the best she could for the little orphaned niece she'd been left to care for. She'd never married, never had children of her own. Katie felt her heart sink. Would her life be like that? With not even a niece to share it with?

  'Let me tell you something, Katie, something not very many people in the world know. I was not always the old maiden lady you know. Once I was young and pretty—not beautiful the way you are, just passably pretty. But stuck up in my own consequence.'

  Margaret carefully placed her cup and saucer on the table, beside Katie's. Folding the napkin primly in her lap, she concentrated on making the folds precise, straight.

  'There was a dashing young man who courted me. He was handsome, fun to be with. But poor. Poor with a dream of doing great things. His family was no one in particular. Not good enough for a Harrington of Boston. So I rejected his suit and he left.'

  Katie stared at her aunt. She had not known she had had such a chance at happiness.

  'He made good. Did fine in his field—electronics research, years ago when it was a brand new field. Several years later, he called me, wanted to get together again, just to meet for old times' sake. I said no. To this day I regret it. I have missed him every day of my life. It was my foolish pride that made me say no in the first place, that refused to let me see him again, if only for an afternoon. I've always wondered how that would have turned out.'

  Her eyes met Katie's briefly, then she looked away, sadness in their depths.

  'I heard some years later that he finally married and moved to California. I thought my heart would break. I was foolish. If I had anything to do over again, I would never have sent him away. Or, at the very least, I would have met him that spring day when he called me. Don't let foolish pride ruin your life, Katie. If Michael won't call you, you go to him. Take a risk; it may pay off in the greatest happiness you can know.'

  'And if it doesn't?'

  'Then you know deep within yourself that you tried. You did all you could do, and it was not meant to be. But to not try, to always wonder, it's a hard burden to carry, Katie. I know—I've carried it for decades.'

  Katie was silent. It must have been hard for her aunt to tell her that story. She reached over and gave her a hug. Maybe tomorrow, or the next day, when she got her nerve up, she'd approach Michael.

  'How long are you planning to stay?' she asked Aunt Margaret.

  Margaret surveyed the small apartment, her eyes quizzical. 'If you only have the one bedroom, I don't plan to stay long at all. Where do you propose to put me?'

  'You can have the bedroom, I'll sleep on the sofa. It opens up.'

  'I could stay at the hotel.'

  'No, stay with me. It will be quite different from what you're used to, but it will broaden your horizons.'

  Katie smiled at her aunt, trying to imagine her at the pizza place, or playing volleyball on the beach–failing totally. Still, she would introduce her to her friends and see what happened.

  Dinner was casual. Margaret brought Katie up to date on all the happenings in Boston, which Katie listened to with only half an ear. She kept thinking of her aunt's story and her own growing desire to speak to Michael. Would it do any good, or was she just setting herself up for more heartache?

  'Did you hear a word I said?' Margaret asked.

  Katie blinked and grinned sheepishly at her aunt. 'I think so. I was–'

  'I know what you were thinking about, or rather who. You used to moon after him when he was courting you.'

  'What an old-fashioned term.' Katie laughed.

  'But true. Michael is a bit old-fashioned. He asked me for permission to court you.'

  Katie was surprised. 'I never knew that.'

  'I told him no. I didn't think he had enough for a Harrington.'

  'Aunt Margaret! You didn't!'

  'I did, and it worked out fine. He said he'd do anything he had to do to get you. He made himself a mint while you were in finishing school. Don't know how he did it, but he came to me shortly before you came home and took me to his house. It was worthy of a Harrington. I gave my permission to court you. He was crazy about you, Katie.'

  She put down her fork, suddenly sick. 'Aunt Margaret, I never liked that house.'

  'What do you mean? It's a show place.'

  'That's right, a show place. But not a home. I thought it was Michael's and he loved it.'

  'It is his. He bought it to prove to me he could care for you in the manner you needed.'

  'I'll go tonight,' Katie said out loud, surprising herself. Her heart ached for the young man who had done so much just to prove to her aunt that he was worthy of her. And she had thrown it in his face. Could she ever make things right? At least she could let him know she appreciated his efforts.

  She showered away the salt water and conditioned her hair. When she dried it, the curls were soft and bright, bleached almost white by the hot southern sun. She used make-up sparingly. In the light she could still see the swollen lids from her tears, but maybe the light at the hotel would be subdued and he wouldn't notice.

  Satisfied she looked her best, she rejoined her aunt.

  'You're sure you don't mind me leaving you alone your first evening here?' she asked.

  'Just run along. I'll look around on my own, go to bed early. You can tell me in the morning how things went. You look pretty, Katie.'

  'Thank you, Aunt Margaret. And thank you for coming down.' She gave her aunt a kiss and hug.

  Almost light-hearted, Katie walked along Duval Street towards the Monarch Hotel and Michael. She was scared he wouldn't want to talk to her, but was willing to take the risk. If he said no, at least she would have tried. And if he said yes–

  She couldn't picture it. Only how awful she would feel if he said no. Yet what else did she expect? He'd asked her more than once to forget the divorce, to try again with him, to take that cruise, or return to Boston, and each time she'd refused. How often had she told him no? And finally he seemed to accept what she said and changed his interests to Elizabeth. Why should he say anything different now?

  How she was going to approach it she hadn't a clue. Hoping something would occur to her before she met him, she continued walking. Surely the right words would come when she saw him.

  The soft air of Key West caressed her skin as she walked towards the Gulf. The bars spilled out their faint lights and the loud noise from the bands and combos playing for the crowds. Gaiety and happiness radiated from the people crowding the pavements. Most of these people were tourists, on holiday, having a wonderful time. Katie envied their happiness. Would she ever know such happiness again?

  The knock on his door went unanswered. She waited another minute and rapped again. Nothing.

  She looked up and down the hall. He was probably out with Elizabeth. Her heart dropped. She was a fool. He’d found someone else. He had tried to make that clear to her. She was stupid to think he still wanted her. Hadn't today on the boat proved that?

  She turned and started down the hall. He was out and there was no use pretending he'd want to be with her. She'd had a second chance and thrown it away.

  Her aunt's words tumbled about in her head. She might never get the courage again. It was tonight, or she would end her years alone, wondering what might have happened had she seen Michael.

  She took a deep breath, and turned back. Pausing by his door, she used her passkey and slipped into his room. She would wait for Michael and talk to him tonight. She only hoped he wouldn't bring Elizabeth back with him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Katie left the lights off, wandered out on to the balcony and sat in one of the chairs. The night was quiet, the soft murmur of voices from the patio dining rooms of the hotel
rose in a muted background. The rustle of the evening breeze through the palm trees was soothing. She sat and thought and waited, while the normal activities of Key West went on around her.

  In the distance, across the water, she saw the lights of a boat, someone sailing on the evening tide, gliding across the water beyond the sound of the land, off to destinations unnamed. She smiled, dreaming of adventure, remembering the boat trips to the coral reef she'd taken. Her smile faded at the remembrance of today's trip.

  Michael wasn't indifferent to her. Of that she was sure. But was he mad at her, trying to punish her for her leaving, or did he still want her as a man wanted a woman? His touch inflamed, his eyes burned into her, but he never spoke of love, never of a future. He wanted her to return, but to what? And did he want her any more since he'd met Elizabeth?

  She didn't think so, or why would he be out with Elizabeth now?? For a day or two he had been everywhere she’d been. Then his attentions had turned.

  He had started seeing Elizabeth. Did he kiss her in the darkness, make love to her? Katie's palms grew damp at the thought and she rubbed them on her dress. She felt sick to her stomach and her heart began pounding unbearably. She'd go mad thinking such thoughts. And she'd have no reason to complain if it were true. She had told him over and over that she wanted to end their marriage. If he had finally believed her, she had only herself to blame.

  The evening drew on, and the music from the bars and dance-floors drifted past her. She wore no watch so had no idea how late it was. Had she sat here for minutes only, or endless hours? It felt like days.

  When the key sounded in the lock, she panicked. It was too soon. The door opened and Michael switched on the light. Katie looked over her shoulder; he was alone. She stood up, scraping the chair slightly as she did so.

  His attention was immediately drawn to the balcony. She stepped to the doorway.

  'Hello, Michael.'

  'Katie? What are you doing here?'

  She stepped inside and laid the master key on the table by the sliding door. 'You said I held the key, so I used it,' she said nervously.

  He moved and flicked on the light by the table. She looked away, its brightness dazzling her after the hours on the dark balcony. But he reached out and drew her into the light, his eyes studying her face. She tried to look away, but his fingers caught her chin, tilted her to his gaze.

  'Crying, Katie?' he asked so softly, so gently that she almost started again.

  'I had a headache,' she prevaricated.

  'Liar.' He leaned over and brushed her lips lightly with his. 'Why?' His hands cupped her face, his thumbs tracing her eyes lightly; he kissed her again, lightly, softly.

  'Things have been awful lately,' she whispered, hurt and pain evident in her face.

  'Isn't that too bad? Did you ever give a thought to the hell you put me through last October?' he said tightly.

  She shook her head, her heart aching for the pain she'd caused. 'I didn't think you'd care. You had your business, spent so much time on it that I didn't even think you'd miss me, except at parties if you needed a hostess.'

  'I cared. I was stunned when you left. I couldn't believe it had happened. Then I became frantic with worry when I couldn't find you. I had men all over searching for you. What if something happened to you?' His eyes burned down into hers, dark and angry. 'I finally concluded you'd run off with some man, even though you denied it.' His voice was hard, tight with anger.

  She shook her head again, as much as his hands would allow. 'There was no other man. There is no other man.'

  'Why are you here?' He released her and moved to stand by the sliding door, gazing out into the night.

  It wasn't easy; she shouldn't have come. She looked at the door. Should she just give up and leave? She took a breath then turned towards him, her heart pounding. She didn't want to end up like her Aunt Margaret— always regretting the past, wondering how things might have been different. He was so dear to her that she had to try. If she failed, she'd have no one but herself to blame, but at least she would know she had tried to make it work. Since she had caused the breach in the first place, it was up to her to fix it.

  'Why are you selling the house?' She said the first thing that occurred to her.

  'Why not? You said you didn't like it. That you weren't planning to return. Why keep it? What do you want, Katie? Why are you here?' He turned to look at her through hard, dark eyes.

  She stalled, afraid to face the final moment.

  'Did you take Elizabeth to dinner?' she asked fiddling with the key on the table.

  'What I do with my time is my own business—I believe you made that perfectly clear to me. You still haven't told me why you're here.'

  She took a chance. 'I came to stay the night.' She held her breath, her hands damp with nervousness, her heart beating frantically. What would he say? Would he laugh at her, send her on her way, or let her stay?

  Michael's face was hard, ruthless. 'Why, so I'll give Jim his recommendation? The ante just went up. Two nights.'

  Katie's face flamed at the suggestion, but she held her ground, her own anger rising. How dared he think such a thing about her? Didn't he know her any better? He was judging her without foundation. She had told him she didn't care about Jim except as a friend. Was Michael deliberately baiting her?

  She would not be bested. Maybe she'd give him his two nights. Could she gauge his feelings from that? Was he only out to torment her? Wasn't there some feeling for her in him? Her aunt said he'd always been crazy about her. Was Aunt Margaret right? Katie would find out tonight.

  Always able to mask her feelings, she put on a smile, and moved seductively towards him, instinct taking over. Let him think what he would—she would buy time to convince him she didn't want to go. She would not let her anger rule; this was too important to her. It was her last chance. She had to succeed.

  His eyes were drawn to her dress, to her body swaying towards him. The distance wasn't great, but Katie felt as if it were a mile. Her nerves were raw and she felt suspended over a huge chasm—one false step and life would end.

  'No bra?' he asked sardonically.

  'Nothing on at all underneath,' she said provocatively, pushing up against him.

  Please, don't let him reject me, she prayed silently.

  'What are you trying to do to me?' His voice was quiet, but it held anguish and pain. His fists were clenched at his side.

  'I'm trying to seduce you, you stupid man! I love you and want you and don't know how else to say it!' She almost yelled the words.

  And for the second time that day Katie burst into tears.

  'Oh, sweetheart.' Michael gathered her into his arms, drawing her tight against his body, holding her as she rested her head on his chest and cried, his hands stroking her hair, her cheek, her back.

  'Don't cry, please, Katie; I don't want to see you this way. Please don't cry.'

  She grew quiet, but refused to move. She didn't want to face him. Didn't want to move away from the strength of his chest, the solid feel of him. Didn't want to leave the heaven of his touch, the haven of his arms. She wanted only to remain standing where she was, in his arms, until time ended.

  His hand forced her face up to his. 'Say that again,' he ordered, his eyes ablaze with light.

  Her lips trembled; he hadn't put her away, he still held her with one arm. Dared she repeat it? Her heart beat heavily with hope.

  'What? Stupid man?' she said with rising confidence.

  He smiled, wiping a tear from her cheek.

  'You may be right. But the next part.'

  'I'm trying to seduce you?'

  'I'm glad, but that's not the part I mean.'

  She licked her lips, afraid to say it again, yet wanting to shout it from the rooftops. 'I love you,' she whispered.

  He closed his eyes, and rested his forehead against hers.

  'Again.' His voice was so low, she almost didn't hear it.

  'I love you, Michael Donovan,' she said loud and
clear.

  'I love you, Katie Harrington-Donovan. You put me through hell and I still adore you!'

  With that his mouth found hers and kissed her so hard that he hurt. His arms bound her to him so tightly that she couldn't breathe. But she didn't care; joy and happiness welled up within her and spilled over.

  Michael Donovan loved her.

  He reached down to pick her up in his arms and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, Katie on his lap. He kissed her again, his arm around her waist caressing her, while his other hand ran up her leg, beneath her dress.

  'Good grief, you really don't have anything on under your dress!' His fingers caressed the soft satin of her hip.

  She smiled shyly at him, trailing kisses along his mouth, across his cheek. 'I told you I didn't,' she said in a low voice.

  'I can't believe you're here.' His hand slowly rubbed up and down.

  'Aunt Margaret sent me. No, that's not quite true. She's here, in Key West. What she said to me tonight showed me I had to talk to you–tonight. I wanted to talk to you before, last week on your balcony. But Elizabeth interrupted.'

  'What's Margaret doing here?'

  'I wrote to her, and I think I let some of my confusion show; anyway she came down to set me straight,' Katie explained.

  'And did she?'

  'A little.' Katie traced his lips with her index finger, slipping it in to rub the soft inner lip. He took her finger gently in his teeth and bit her, laving it with his tongue. She smiled sleepily into his eyes. 'She said you were crazy about me. Is that true?'

  'She's right.' His eyes were steady, his gaze firm.

  'For how long?'

  'Since I first saw you. At the Digbys' place, in Cambridge. You must have been about seventeen or so.'

  She looked perplexed, trying to remember.

  'I was a construction worker. When I saw you, I thought the pot of gold had been given to me. But your Aunt Margaret was too protective of her ewe lamb, and let me know in no uncertain terms I was not good enough for her precious niece.'

  'I don't remember.'

  'No, I don't suppose you do.' He smiled and shook his head. 'I slaved night and day for three years. Bought that house and furnished it, making it as showy as I could to prove to your aunt I was good enough for you. My credit was strained to the limit—over, really.'