by Sandra Field
“Our last morning here.”
Emotions chased themselves across her face so rapidly he couldn’t keep up. With a touch of desperation she pulled his head down and kissed him, her nails digging into his scalp. The result was entirely predictable. But the same thread of desperation ran through a lovemaking as intense as it was fast; and when it was done, she lay back on the pillows, avoiding his eyes. Jake said steadily, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” She wrinkled her nose. “Back to ordinary living, I suppose.”
“Will you miss me?” he said quietly.
With a teasing smile she tickled his ribs. “I’ll miss this.”
“Not just my body. All of me.”
Her smile faded. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“This weekend has meant a lot to me. I want to know what it’s meant for you.”
How could she answer him when his big body was hovering over her, his blue eyes pinioning her to the bed? “Jake, we’ve had the most incredible sex and a lot of fun, and you loved my new nightgown. Isn’t that enough?”
He should never have started this; but it was too late now to back down. “When can I see you again?”
She raised her chin defiantly. “I come back to Montreal next March.”
He forced his temper down. “Don’t play games.”
“There’s no room in my life for wild weekends—you know what the cove’s like. This was truly wonderful, and I figure I deserved every minute of it. But there can’t be a repeat.”
“So it was nothing but an escapade for you?”
“What’s wrong with that?” She had no idea what this weekend meant for her. For thirty-six hours she’d flung off the constraints of thirteen years. She’d luxuriated in a man’s body, allowed her sensuality full play, and had been certain in her bones that Jake had loved everything she’d done.
And now it was over.
How could she possibly know what it meant?
The words were past Jake’s lips before he could stop them. “Shaine, I’ve fallen in love with you all over again. Or maybe I never fell out of love the first time.”
She paled and sat up, crossing her arms over her breasts. “I don’t want you to be in love with me!”
“Why not? You were happy enough when you were seventeen.”
“Yes, I was,” she said. “I might have been young and impressionable and full of romantic ideas—but you did make me happy. Very happy. And then you vanished, breaking off love and friendship as if they’d never been.”
“We’ve been through all that,” he said in a taut voice.
“Then let me tell you something else,” she said edgily. “Six years later, when Daniel started school and I finally had some time to myself, I had an affair. His name was Kyle Manley, he was a hotel executive touring the coast to interview local businesses and restaurants. He was handsome and charming and I was starved for that kind of attention. So I fell for him, hard. And he, so he said, did the same.”
Knowing better than to touch her, Jake waited. “We’d meet at the motel where he was staying. I always got home before Daniel did. And then one day I invited him for dinner so he could meet my son. He said he had a meeting that night up in St. Anthony, but he could come the next night. So I cooked a nice dinner and waited.” She finished bitterly, “You know the rest. Because, of course, he never came—I never heard from him again. He didn’t want to meet my son. He just wanted me in the sack.”
“I’m sorry,” Jake said inadequately.
“You see the pattern? For the second time in a row I got dumped. Abandoned. Left behind to pick up the pieces of my life.” She took a deep breath, trying to work the tension out of her shoulders. “Never again, Jake. Sure, right now it’s amusing you to show me the high life and spend your money on me. But how long will that last?”
“What’s between us is nothing to do with money!”
“Okay, okay. But don’t you see where I’m coming from? You were in love with me and you left. Kyle said he loved me and he left. Now you’re in love with me again. I don’t even want to talk about it!” She scrambled out of bed in a flash of bare limbs. “I’ve got to shower and pack and get to the airport.”
Jake rolled off the bed and caught her around the wrist, his fingers like steel. “Because of Daniel, I’m not going to disappear from your life. And I’m not done with this.”
“Well, I am!”
“Go shower,” he said. “I’ll run you to the airport after breakfast.”
The bathroom door shut with a decisive snap. Jake threw his belongings in his case, furious with her, equally furious with himself. He should have waited. Built a relationship slowly, let her grow to trust him. But instead he’d rushed his fences.
If he ever met a hotel executive by the name of Kyle Manley, the guy was toast.
Somewhat cheered by that thought, Jake used the second bathroom to shower and get dressed. He and Shaine took the stairs down to the restaurant, where she buried her face in the newspaper. Jake picked up the business section. “Isn’t this what long-married couples do—read the paper at breakfast?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
He slathered raspberry preserve on a crisp croissant. “I’m not going to go away. Not this time.”
“I’ll be sure and tell Daniel.”
Thoroughbred racehorses, thought Jake, weren’t for the faint of heart. “At least you’re not indifferent to me,” he said cheerfully. “Pass the cream, would you?”
She lowered the paper, frowning, and thrust the chased silver jug at him. “Next time I call a man for a wild weekend, I’ll think twice.”
“Put the knife in and then twist it, why don’t you?”
Her face fell. She said helplessly, “I’m being such a bitch…I don’t know how to handle this. I’m not sophisticated like all your other women.”
“I’d noticed.”
A ghost of a smile tilted her mouth. “You fell in love with me because of my homemade dress.”
He leaned forward. “I fell in love with you because you’re passionately involved in day-to-day living, and you’re—what a tedious word, but I don’t know a better one—dependable. I’d trust you with my life.”
Shaken by the intensity of his feelings, he added, “Finish your coffee or…please don’t cry, Shaine, I can’t stand it when you do that.”
She blinked back the tears that were clinging to her lashes. Then she glanced at her watch and gave a yelp of dismay. “I’m going to miss my plane. I’ll have to take a cab, it’d be quicker.”
“I’ll take you to the airport and we’ll be in plenty of time.”
“You’re much too used to giving orders.”
“So are you. That’ll give us lots to talk about when we’re old and cranky.”
Her eyes glittered dangerously. “Take a hint, Jake—lay off.”
“No,” he said.
She picked up her purse and marched across the dining room. Ten minutes later they were in the limousine he’d hired and on their way to Dorval airport. Once her bags were checked, Jake went with her to security. “I’ll call you in a couple of days,” he said. “I’m in Manhattan all week.” Then he kissed her thoroughly and with considerable enjoyment. She emerged looking ruffled, utterly desirable and very cranky.
Flashing his best smile at her, Jake turned and walked away. He wished he felt half as confident as he looked.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ON WEDNESDAY afternoon a truck delivered Shaine’s semi-annual purchase of glass. She’d cleared her shelves, and once all the packages were in her studio, methodically started shelving the bright panes of cathedral and opalescent glass, checking them off on the invoice.
As she got near the bottom of the list, her hands stilled. Ring mottled glass, baroque glass, German antique glass…she hadn’t ordered any of those. Couldn’t afford to, much as she longed to work with them. Then she realized there was a note attached to the back of the invoice. Jake Reilly had purchased and paid for
the added shipment. Last Friday, the day he’d arrived in Montreal.
She bit her lip. How had he known?
The glass was beautiful. The antique glass, in particular, was perfect for an abstract design she’d had in mind ever since she’d seen the craters of Cañadas.
He’d never mentioned this last night when he’d phoned.
She could send them back. Because wasn’t she getting more and more deeply indebted to him? And wasn’t that the last thing she wanted?
Then she heard Daniel dropping his schoolbooks in the back porch and kicking off his shoes. Hastily she hid the invoice on her desk, and with great care slid the first pane into its wooden slot.
“Hey, Mum, guess what?”
“You made ninety-nine in English.”
“Not likely. The coach thinks I might get selected player of the year at the tournament next weekend.”
“That’s wonderful, Daniel.”
“We leave Friday right after lunch.”
“I’ll make sure your stuff’s ready.”
“That’s a neat color,” Daniel said.
“They have such wonderful glass at the place in Montreal,” she said evasively, “that’s why I keep going back there.”
“You could have gone to an NHL game, the Canadiens were playing Saturday night.”
On Saturday night she and Jake had made love in a tub full of bubble bath. She bent over the next pane of glass. “I’ll stop and get dinner in a few minutes. Devlin gave us some crabmeat.”
They ate in the kitchen. As he scraped out the bottom of the casserole, Daniel said, “This is nearly as good as those prawns we all had at the resort.”
Her mind more on her design than on dinner, Shaine said absently, “Not as good as the steak he fed me Saturday—” She broke off, aghast. “The last evening we were in New York, is what I meant,” she babbled, and remembered she’d eaten roast pork that night.
Daniel’s jaw dropped. “He was in Montreal with you.”
She couldn’t lie to him. “We did meet, yes. But he—”
“You never have dates. Or meet up with guys.”
“I sometimes have dinner with Cameron,” Shaine said.
“He doesn’t count. How come you met up with my father? You must’ve planned it ahead of time.”
“Daniel, this really isn’t—”
“You going to marry him?”
“Never,” Shaine said with more honesty than tact.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to marry anyone!”
“Has he asked you?”
“Yes. I said no. And that’s the end of it.”
“If he asked you, he must want to marry you.”
“It takes two people to make a marriage,” she said. “I’m sorry I ever mentioned him.”
Daniel’s chair scraped the floor as he pushed himself to his feet. His blue eyes blazing in a way that reminded her uncomfortably of his father, he said, “There’s no reason you couldn’t marry him—you guys get on okay, I was watching you the whole time we were away.”
“You want me to marry him,” she said in a dazed voice.
His color hectic, Daniel said choppily, “Everyone else’s parents are married. But not you. You gotta be different.”
“I can’t get married just—”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Daniel muttered and ran from the room. A moment later the back door slammed.
Shaine buried her head in her hands. Why, oh why, hadn’t she kept her mouth shut?
How could she have been so stupid?
This was a question Shaine was to repeat more than once through the week. Daniel, normally sunny-tempered, was morose and withdrawn, even on occasion downright rude. She did her best to keep her cool, but had to admit that when he left the house Friday morning for school and then the tournament, she was glad to see him go.
He’d come back in a different frame of mind, and life would go on the way it always had.
She spent all day Friday in the shop. On Saturday Jenny took the eight-hour shift, freeing Shaine to go to her studio, where the table was covered with sketches and color mockups for the abstract she was working on. Pushing Jake, Daniel and the cove out of her mind, she got to work.
When the doorbell rang, she was astounded to realize two hours had passed. Straightening her back, running her fingers through her hair, she went to the door. “Why, Mary,” she said cordially, “how are you?”
Mary Bates was the mother of Art, Daniel’s friend who was the goalie on the hockey team; she was also the wife of the junior coach, Hardy. “Fine,” she said. “I just wanted to check on Daniel. Is he feeling better?”
“Feeling better?” Shaine repeated, wondering if the whole cove knew she and Daniel had been at odds all week.
“Hardy said he had the flu. That’s why he couldn’t go to the tournament.”
Her eyes blank with shock, Shaine faltered, “You’d better come in—are you saying Daniel’s not at the tournament?”
“That’s right. Called Hardy yesterday morning and said he was too sick to go. Hardy wasn’t best pleased but you can’t fight the flu. You mean Daniel’s not here?”
Shaine sat down on the nearest chair. “No,” she said in a thin voice, “he’s not here. Oh God, Mary, where’s he gone?” Then, her brain racing and her stomach in an icy knot, she answered her own question. “He must have gone to find his father. We had a big fight on Wednesday—Daniel wants me to marry Jake and I said I couldn’t.”
“Where does Jake live?”
“New York City. Miles away.” Gripped by a terror unlike any she’d ever felt, Shaine stammered, “Daniel’s been gone since yesterday morning and I don’t have any idea where he is. Or how to find him.”
Mary said stoutly, “We’ll check his room first to see if he left a note.” But although the two of them searched high and low, they found nothing. Then Mary said, “Do you have Jake’s phone number?”
“Yes. Of course. I—I’ll get it.”
Shaine’s knees felt as though they wouldn’t hold her weight, while her hands were shaking like poplar leaves in the wind. “Here it is,” she said. “Mary, would you dial for me?”
What if Jake wasn’t home? He could be anywhere from Queensland to Paris, and she’d have no way of reaching him. In cold fear she clutched the phone, counting the rings. On the fourth one, the receiver was picked up. “Jake Reilly.”
Shaine collapsed into the chair. “Jake,” she whispered.
“Shaine? What’s wrong?”
“Daniel’s run away,” she said; her voice sounded as though it was coming from another woman.
“When?” Jake rapped.
“He found out about Montreal and we had a big fight. He was supposed to go to a hockey tournament yesterday morning but I only just discovered he didn’t go. Oh, Jake, we’ve got to find him!”
“You think he’s on his way here?”
“He wants me to marry you,” she said wretchedly. “I don’t know where else he’d go.”
“Okay. I’ll get onto it right away. You’re not to worry, Shaine, he’s a smart kid and he’ll stay out of trouble. Is there someone with you?”
“Yes,” she gulped. “Will you call me as soon as you hear anything?”
“I’ll have him traced. What time does the bus leave the cove on Fridays?”
“Nine-thirty—of course, that’s what he must have done, I’m not thinking straight.”
“Give me their number. Then pour yourself a glass of brandy and stay by the phone. We’ll find him, I promise.”
She could feel his certainty enfold her almost as if he were standing in the kitchen. “I let it drop you were in Montreal,” she blurted. “It’s my fault.”
“I’m as much to blame as you are,” he said shortly. “Talk to you soon.”
Very carefully she replaced the receiver in its slot. Mary, in the meantime, had put on the kettle. With a watery smile Shaine said, “Jake suggested brandy. But I think tea’s a bett
er idea.”
The minutes crept by, until an hour had passed since she’d talked to Jake, then an hour and a half, then two. When she was almost at the point of total panic, the bell shrilled. Her nerves jangling, her shoulders rigid as iron bars, she picked up the phone.
“He’s on the bus coming into the city,” Jake said tersely. “They’ve been alerted and I’ll go and meet it. I’ll call you as soon as he’s at my place—don’t worry if it’s a couple more hours, I need to talk to him and find out what’s going on.”
“All right,” Shaine said, dropped the phone, put her head down on the table and sobbed as though her heart was broken. Mary picked up the receiver, and from a long way away Shaine heard her say, “She’ll be all right, she’s just a little upset. Good work, Jake. Yes, I’ll stay with her.” There was a pause, then Mary finished, “Okay, I’ve got all that, and I’ll make sure she gets there. ’Bye, Jake.”
Mary put down the phone, wrapped her arms around her friend and held on tight. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she said.
The bus station, eddying with people, wasn’t a place Jake would want to see Daniel on his own. Welcome to fatherhood, he thought, as he waited at the bay for the bus to pull in. It hadn’t been that difficult to track the boy down, although he was wondering how Daniel had gotten across the border on his own. He’d soon find out, he thought with a touch of grimness, Shaine’s terrible sobbing echoing in his ears.
The bus arrived with a hiss of brakes. The door opened and the passengers straggled out, waiting on the concrete siding to get their baggage. Then Daniel came down the steps. Jake saw the boy take a hunted look around; he looked both young and out of his depth, neither of which was a good idea in a city that had more than its share of predators.
Jake stepped forward. “Daniel,” he said.
His son’s head swung around. Unmistakably, relief was his predominant emotion, followed quickly by a mixture of fear and defiance. Jake gave him a quick hug. “Do you have a bag?”
Daniel indicated his bulging backpack. “Just this.”
“Let’s get out of here. We’ll talk when we get to the condo.”