Harlequin Superromance November 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2

by Mary Brady

  She unclasped and then reclasped her hands. “And thank you for taking such good care of your nephew all those years.”

  “She did, too.” He took the knife, slit open the package and pulled out the contents.

  “The MacCareys.” Mia put a hand on his arm as she read the cover.

  He had seen the fat binder before. “Aunt Margaret worked on this all the time I knew her. She never tried to coerce me to help with or even look at it. It’s the family genealogy. At first, as a kid, I wasn’t interested, and then I was too busy.” And then, well, he couldn’t.

  He couldn’t because there were bound to be other children, other MacCareys who had died young, from the same genetic flaw his young son had gotten from him.

  He opened the binder to the most recent entry and glanced at the page before he opened the book wider so Mia could see inside. Margaret had mercifully left out any information about himself except to note him below his deceased parents. The chapters had many photos and much text augmented by clippings, letters, handwritten and typed notes, apparently from the present to long ago. The older pages had been encased in plastic page covers to preserve them.

  “It’s wonderful how the handwriting seemed to go from typed to ball point to fountain pen to quill,” she said, pressing a fingertip to one of the covered pages with quill writing.

  When he reached the oldest pages, the beginning of the MacCarey line in the United States, he knew by her gasp Mia recognized the coat of arms at the same time he did.

  “Daniel.”

  The page held an image of a carefully drawn and colored coat of arms. A similar image had been stamped on the inside of the ring from Aunt Margaret. The faded greens and yellows must have once been vibrant. On the triple-peaked shield divided into quadrants of alternating color, the blade of a sword crossed with a tree, and a ship floating on the ocean sat in the background. The stamp on the ring had only the sword and the tree. The ship and the waves would have been too much detail for such a small stamp.

  Inside the pocket of the back cover of the binder sat a letter-size envelope with “My Beloved Daniel” handwritten on the front.

  “She must not have wanted to scare you off by putting the letter in the front pocket,” Mia said in a soft voice. “Smart woman.”

  He ran the tip of his finger over the writing and opened the letter so both of them could see it.

  To Daniel MacCarey, or if he never looked in this book that troubles him so much, to anyone who will give a thought and perhaps a prayer to the MacCarey family.

  Mia pressed her body against his, put a warm hand on his leg and squeezed, a gesture of comfort. He opened the letter.

  Daniel, I wanted to give you the underpinnings of your family line in case you ever read this.

  Alas, the origin of the coat of arms is lost to me. This drawing and the ring have been passed down for a century and a half. The ring belonged to Colleen McClure, given to her by her lover. Her oldest child was not fathered by her husband and we, Daniel, the MacCareys, are descended from the child conceived out of wedlock. This may not be a shocking horror in your day and age, but it was then and Colleen wanted to make sure the secret was never forgotten. The secret passes with the ring and the coat of arms. I think she might have been afraid the family would reject her first son’s heirs as illegitimate if the truth was known about the father, so she refused to name him outright or to say anything at all about the mystery man.

  Unfortunately, and it distresses me to say this, one branch of Fletcher/McClure descendants, twice removed from the child born of love, was obliterated by someone keeping the records and there is no information about who might have been added and then taken away. I will leave you to make your own conjectures.

  Other than that, we are an ordinary collection of geniuses and outstandingly good-looking human beings.

  Have a wonderful life, Daniel. I knew you would read this—eventually.

  Your great-aunt Margaret Irene MacCarey

  “Did I tell you Great-Aunt Margaret was a terrific woman with a delightful sense of humor?”

  “Well, she certainly wasn’t wrong about the good-looking part.”

  “Yes, she was a beautiful woman.”

  She gave him a light elbow in the ribs.

  “I’m starting to put a name to the mystery man. Since I’m not a scientist or an anthropologist, I can make up anything I want.” She scooted to the edge of the couch and turned to face him.

  “The pirate Liam Bailey is you grandfather about eight or ten times removed.” When he reached for her, she leaped up and danced away. “Arrgh, matie, shiver me timbers. Yo ho ho and a bottle o’ rum, I believe it’s time for me to get in the shower and get ready.”

  “Towels are in the cupboard.” He started to follow her.

  “It’s a bathroom. I think I’ll find everything I need.”

  Daniel sat back on the couch and pulled the book into his lap. Was Mia right? Was it possible for coincidence to be so facetious as to make him related to the man in Mia’s wall?

  Then he closed the book. How could it possibly make a difference to anyone except a historian, or perhaps an anthropologist?

  He gathered up the book and tapped on the bathroom door. “Mia. I need to leave for a half hour or so.”

  “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  * * *

  MIA HUNG HER clothes on the hook on the door and stepped into the shower. As soon as the water poured down over her head, tears poured from her eyes.

  She had been so smug. Had known everything there was to know about a broken heart. In fate’s retribution, here she was, left to spend several more hours with a man who couldn’t reject her, but couldn’t love her, either.

  When mere tears didn’t seem to be enough, she leaned against the wall and sobbed until she was sitting on the floor in the flow of the water trying to wish the pain from her heart.

  She loved him.

  She loved him and could not find an opponent to fight to win him over.

  Yet she needed to do battle this afternoon anyway. She needed to convince these people whom she did not know that she mattered, that the folks of Bailey’s Cove mattered.

  And she would. That’s what she did. That’s who she was.

  She stood and shook herself to try to clear all the negative thoughts from her head. Then she lathered soap all over herself. Once again she cleansed the touch of Daniel MacCarey from her body and, if she was the unluckiest woman ever, soon it would be from her life.

  That she had been too cavalier about getting her heart broken was yet another of those life lessons she had not known she needed to learn.

  Now she had learned and relearned.

  She would open Pirate’s Roost or she would become a sorry old cliché and die trying. She needed to throw herself into the work. It didn’t matter who that was from her wall. Pirate. Arrgh, she’d deal with the lookers. Treasure hunters? Bring ’em on. A woman with a broken heart had a lot to compensate for, and one thing she knew about herself, she could fight hard.

  The past six months of hands-on work at Pirate’s Roost had taught her a lot. She wasn’t kidding when she told Monique she’d wield a hammer herself if need be, and the nails, screws, saw.

  She got out of the shower and wrapped a fluffy towel around her head. She dried off her body briskly with another. No matter how deeply she dug in her bag of supplies, however, she could not find her toothpaste. She could brush without it, but that always seemed like wasted effort.

  This time she put on her own robe and opened the bathroom door to let out the steam the vent was not handling and flipped on the mirror lights. She needed to assess how much damage she had done to her face and eyes by crying.

  Not too bad. She splashed cold water on her face over and over.

  Once again, she looke
d for the elusive toothpaste. No luck.

  Everybody had toothpaste, so must Daniel.

  She opened the medicine cabinet, found the tube and squirted some on her brush. As she put the tube back, she realized on the shelf above there was one of those small, wallet-size photos standing, slightly curled on the shelf behind the shaving cream.

  Daniel kept close the photo of a woman and child, where he could see it every day. Not displayed out in the open where visitors could see it. Hidden where only Daniel could see—unless a visitor ran out of toothpaste.

  Mia scooted the can aside and picked up the picture. The woman was beautiful and the little dark-haired child so cute, but a little sad even though he smiled.

  When Mia looked more closely at the child, she saw a distorted version of Daniel looking back at her.

  She winced and started as Daniel strode into the bathroom and took the picture from her.

  The steel of determination shuttered any reaction he might have had to finding her holding his secret.

  “It’s them.” The words came out on a breathy gasp.

  He put the picture in the pocket of his shirt. “How did you know?”

  “Put your hackles back down.” She rubbed his chest to reassure them both that this was not a breach. “I don’t know much and what I thought I might know you just confirmed.”

  He looked suspiciously at her and the dark pain began to slowly dance in his eyes. He forgave her the transgression or he would not have let her see his emotions at all.

  “You are a very strong person, Daniel. I’ve never doubted that, so when I called you Danny, just the sound of the name brought up something so terrible it took you out as if I had hit you with that hammer. That had to be the name you were called in your family unit. Whatever happened to you was so dark and so profound it had to involve a child. That’s all I thought I knew.”

  When he turned away from her she knew she did not know it all yet. She wanted to go to him and demand he tell her, but a promise was a promise.

  “Hey. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s just it.” He turned back. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

  She nodded acceptance. “I’d like to air-dry my hair some on the balcony if you would like to use the shower.”

  Now he nodded.

  “I just need my brush.” She grabbed her things from the bathroom, including the toothbrush, which she stuffed into the plastic bag it had been stored in. The toothpaste smeared and mushed all over the inside of the bag and she hoped that was not a prediction of the next few hours.

  She glanced up to see his reflection in the mirror. He looked...alone.

  When she left the bathroom with her bag over her shoulder and her arms full of stuff, he stopped her and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

  Forgiveness, complete and full of sorrow.

  She turned and hurried away.

  Dropping everything on the couch except one towel, her hairbrush and the robe she wore, she let herself out into the warm afternoon sun.

  Every brush stroke seemed to sooth her. Every minute she sat in the nurturing sunshine healed her a little more. Maybe by the time she got ready to meet these people, she would be strong enough to get through the night. Smile. Chat. Smile. Chat. And drive herself home.

  I think I can...

  By the time her hair was dry and smooth, Daniel had come out onto the balcony dressed in a robe with a towel draped around his neck. He looked refreshed and that bolstered her strength.

  “You can have the bathroom back.”

  She hung the dress on the back of the bathroom door and in the relatively dim light of the bathroom she scooped her hair up and realized the upswept comb-over she and Monique had planned didn’t seem right anymore. She just twisted her hair at the back of her head, pinned it and inserted the black crystal-studded hair fork.

  She applied more makeup than her usual modest amount because construction work didn’t require much in the makeup category.

  With the side zipper of the black dress tugged up into position, the dress molded tightly around her waist. She felt a little uncomfortable with no bra, but the dress did not. The whole intent of the design was to glorify a woman’s natural curves in swaying black chiffon and shining crystal beads that ran in a two-inch scattered row on either side of the modest V of neckline and joined to make a four-inch swathe to the waist. The back of the dress dropped open to her waist.

  Monique had talked her into a deep red matte lipstick that, Mia had to admit, looked smashing on her full lips. “It’ll stay on,” Monique had said. “And it says, oh baby, oh baby, there is absolutely nothing ordinary about this woman.”

  Mia had been skeptical and she still was.

  “Now make a moue,” Monique had said, and when Mia pushed out her lips, “Oh, yes, now it says, oh, honey, you’re not good enough for me. Go away until you’re better-looking, richer and fantastic in bed.”

  Hey, Mia thought as she repinned a loose lock of hair and gave it a good spray, maybe there was a good-looking donor just waiting to back a pirate restaurant.

  She put on her earrings and necklace and modeled for herself in the mirror. Her emerald-and-gold necklace and earrings from her grandmother weren’t the best fit, but they were pretty and they would have to do. Her phone told her it was six-twenty. She hoped Daniel had everything he needed from the bathroom before she closeted herself in.

  With one hand on the sink for balance, she slid on one of the four-inch black patent-leather heels and then the other. Tipping her foot to the side, she admired the cap-heel and open-sided pumps. D’Orsay style according to Monique and to which Mia had responded, “If you say so.” The toes of the shoes had three bands of leather crossed over each other. The band crossing over the top of all of the others had black crystal beads similar to the dress.

  Thank goodness for Monique. She had insisted, before the mani-pedi, Mia walk around the house in the shoes. Once she had found her balance last night, things had gotten easier. Now she moved around the bathroom and had her balance after only a few strides.

  She was ready.

  She loaded the matching purse with essentials and gathered up all her things. She stopped and put down everything but the purse. Daniel might not be her lover anymore, but he was a guy and she wanted to get the full effect when he saw something he had never seen before. Mia Parker in full fancy-dress mode.

  She stepped out of the bathroom ready for a taa-daa moment, but Daniel’s bedroom was empty. He wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. He must be in the office. She perched on one of the blue bar stools that lined the counter dividing the kitchen from the dining area to wait.

  A moment later she heard his footsteps approaching. Since the dress would have more impact if she stood, she slid off the stool and put one hand on the counter, standing up “I rule” straight.

  He walked out of the office concentrating on the box in his hands. The lines of his tux showed off the killer form of his body without looking overly done. His dark hair was brushed back and slightly wet-looking.

  Bruce Wayne sexy and James Bond aloof...and when he was only a few feet from her and looked up, he took one step back and grinned at her, Indiana Jones charming.

  He made all the effort worthwhile.

  “You look beautiful. Astonishing.”

  “And you look good enough to be with me.”

  She approached him, touched his chin with the tip of one finger and then sashayed away, presenting the back of the dress.

  He coughed and sputtered. “Um, wow.”

  She turned back around. “Does that mean you like it?”

  “I knew you had a lovely back, but I had no idea how good it would look framed in black.”

  “So what do you think?”

  “You make that dress the most b
eautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and—” he touched the corner of her mouth “—I think that lipstick was designed to make men grovel at your feet.”

  “I won’t ask you to go that far.”

  He held out his hand and led her over to the mirrors behind the dining room table. “I’m not saying your lovely necklace isn’t charming and beautiful, but I wondered if you were interested in borrowing these.”

  She took the black velvet jewelry box from him and lifted the lid. Inside were a diamond necklace, a bracelet and a pair of earrings. All matching. All glittering and gorgeous. “Great-Aunt Margaret?”

  “Yes, and they don’t get much use from me.”

  The three pieces were simple strings of set diamonds. Round, marquis and emerald cut diamonds set in white gold or platinum. Each piece a single strand. The earrings dropped three inches and would almost touch her shoulders.

  Mia took her jewelry off and put it on the table. Daniel draped the necklace around her neck and it fell to just above the rise of her breasts as if designed for her. She made herself ignore the effect of his warm fingers on her neck. He fastened the bracelet around her wrist and then glanced up to look into her eyes. She put the earrings in without looking away.

  “One last chance. Do you want to face these people?”

  “These people who will think Dr. Daniel MacCarey has finally come back out of his shell?”

  “They might at that.”

  “Come on. We’ll shut them up. Kiss me on the cheek once in a while. Act protective and they won’t be able to talk about poor old Daniel MacCarey any more.”

  “I won’t be pretending to be protective. There are always a few in attendance who must have missed out on manners class.”

  “So let’s go pluck some dollars for the university out of some bank accounts.”

  When they arrived dutifully a few minutes early, the foliage of the botanical gardens was lit with twinkle lights, and the waitstaff was ready to serve. Daniel introduced Mia to Dr. Donovan, making sure his department head knew this was the woman whose project was being put on hold for the pirate dog and pony show.