Meggy frowned at her friend. Though she’d finally begun to put it behind her after all this time, her ex-husband’s infidelity and their consequent divorce was still a sore point with Shan.
Stepping back from the bar, she sobered. “There’s a guy out there who will love you and your boys the way you deserve to be loved, Shan.” She held out her arms, beaming. “Look at me. I was just minding my own business, painting a wall, and wham! Trevor walked into my life. Your job is to stay open to the possibilities.”
“Yes, Ma,” Shan drawled.
She snickered and turned on her heel to head upstairs. “Hey, maybe Trevor has a brother,” she called over her shoulder laughing, but then her brows snapped together. Did he have any brothers? She’d have to ask him.
Chapter Twelve
Over the next week, Trevor came to learn that for a straightforward and strong woman, Meggy had a soft core of almost childlike appreciation for the life she’d built and the people with which she surrounded herself. She loved Palmerton and its residents and didn’t hesitate to show it.
And Trevor wasn’t excluded from her affectionate demonstrations; receiving more than a generous share of her tender attentions. He was humbled by her easy inclusion of him in her life, as though he belonged there. She didn’t speak of love or any other feelings she might have for him, but she came into his arms whenever he reached for her. Her fairy smile continued to light up the room whenever their gazes met.
He’d taken to eating his dinner each night in the Palmer House lounge, conversing with the regulars and sampling the excellent cuisine while bellied up to the bar. With Meggy busy working her magic in the kitchen, he was content to sit and listen to the bits of gossip that came his way from the locals.
It was obvious from the pitying glances she sent his way from her place behind the bar that Shan noticed just how often his gaze strayed to the kitchen door. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He loved watching his little fairy and was rewarded for his patience when she emerged from the kitchen each evening at eight.
Her sparkling blue eyes would seek him out and for a moment, her smile would be for him alone. Then, she’d turn her attention on her customers, charming her clientele like a magical sprite. When her tour of the dining area was completed, she’d stroll through the lounge, brushing her hand over his shoulder in silent greeting then stick out her tongue at Shan before returning to her kitchen.
The charm bracelet he’d had delivered the afternoon of their sail was a definite hit. Meggy loved the whimsy of it and had shown her appreciation by leading him to his bed that evening with a sultry smile. In the flickering firelight, she’d proceeded to shed herself of every stitch of clothing until she stood before him like a golden, glowing candle, wearing nothing but his gift. He grew hard thinking of the pleasurable hours they’d spent that night—and each one since.
The next evening, she’d stopped at the bar to kiss him lightly on the lips, ignoring Shan’s throat clearing. With a whisper, she’d thanked him for the tiny, silver fairy that had joined the picnic basket at her wrist that afternoon. She’d grinned and mussed his hair, much to the patrons’ growing amusement, the night the sparkling Celtic’s mascot was added to the charm collection.
As if word of his daily gifts had spread, the number of locals appearing at the bar each night, just before eight, swelled until the patrons were standing three deep, waiting for Palmer House’s chef to emerge from the kitchen wearing her latest charm. The nosy residents of Palmerton didn’t even try to hide their interest in “the writer’s” courtship of Meggy Calhoun.
Each night that week, she stopped by his stool to thank him for the newest trinket he had delivered daily. While Shan rolled her eyes at the spectacle, Meggy would present her wrist to the growing crowd. With a fairy smile on her wide mouth, she displayed the miniature whisk, the sailboat, and the chef’s hat.
Applause and laughter had those in the dining room craning their necks at the commotion the night the gleaming lady juggler joined the other charms. Meggy, in her chef’s smock, skipped the tour of tables that night to head straight for him. Her laughing gaze never left his as she crossed the room. Climbing into his lap with a throaty laugh, she winked at the cheering crowd, and proceeded to plant a very unprofessional kiss on his grinning lips.
His wooing of Meggy Calhoun was proceeding according to plan, but she still hadn’t told him she loved him. Tonight’s charm was designed to rectify that. If he was to see Meggy wave her flag before the truth came to light, it would have to. Elizabeth’s patience had run out.
****
The hour was late and Meggy was tired when they left Palmer House. She floated in pleasant lassitude as Trevor drove them to a surprise location. A grin curled her lips when he pulled into the marina parking lot. The idea of having Trevor all to herself for the next thirty-six hours sent shivers of excitement through her, dispelling her weariness. She’d been fantasizing about having him alone on his boat and in his big bed since the day he’d taken her for a sail.
Aboard Christos’ Chariot, he led her directly below. She caught her breath when he opened the door to the cabin. Candlelight bathed the soft wood of the walls, and when her gaze moved to the bed, it was to find the coverlet turned down in invitation. Wine chilled in a bucket on the side table.
Her heart did a slow roll in her chest. Like a conquering marauder, he’d battered against her misgivings over the past week, showering her with thoughtfulness and his gently teasing attentions. Though she’d been able to deny her ever-insistent voice of reason up to now, she no longer could. She slid across the chasm with barely a whisper—and found love.
Her heart throbbing with her newly realized emotion, she turned to smile. “You’ve been busy.”
He dropped their overnight bags at the foot of the bed and moved toward her. “I had help. I wanted everything set when we arrived so there would be no delay when I did this.” His mouth swooped down on hers hungrily, and the heat she’d come to expect at his slightest touch burst into flame.
His mouth on hers was ravenous, as though he’d been starving for the taste of her. She knew the feeling. She’d been just as starved. Under his nimble fingers, the buttons of her top gave and the silky material of her blouse slithered from her shoulders to pool on the floor. Her slacks joined it with amazing speed. He stepped back to look down at her, and she saw him swallow. Without a word, he lowered her to the mattress and joined her, his body pressed to her side.
His fingers were urgent as he nipped and tugged at her bra and panties, frantically shedding her of the last barrier of clothing. It wasn’t until he had her completely naked that he gentled his touch. Propped up on one elbow, he stroked her from neck to knees, his eyes darkening as he stoked the fire in her until she reached critical mass. She exploded like a roman candle on the fourth of July, his name on her lips as she shattered beneath his talented fingers.
He was leaning over her, watching her with a stormy gaze when she finally came back to herself. Her arms leaden, they lay limply above her head, refusing to move. She smiled up at him.
“Why aren’t you naked? I’ve dreamed about having you naked in this bed.”
His eyes flashed with an answering heat. “I’m sorry, Meggy.” He leaned down to drop a kiss on her nose. “Ripping off your clothes before I’d even shut the door wasn’t in my plans for tonight.”
“It’s good to know you can think outside the box.” She grinned at his guilty smile. “I wasn’t exactly complaining, Trevor. Though I might start if I don’t see some of that sexy skin of yours really soon.”
Rolling away from her, he stood.
She propped herself up against the pillows and sat back to enjoy the impromptu striptease he provided as he shed himself of his clothes like a man on a mission. “So.” She swallowed at the sight of the heavy bulge beneath his navy briefs, and had to begin again. “So, if getting me naked wasn’t in your plans for tonight, what was?”
He looked up from where he searched through t
he pocket of his jeans to give her a leering grin. “Oh, getting you naked was always part of the plan.” He came toward her to sit at her hip on the side of the bed. “I just planned for that to wait until after I gave you this.” He held out his hand.
She leaned forward to see what rested on his palm, then traced a fingertip over the fat, silver heart. As the previous ones had, his latest addition to her bracelet shot a rush of giddy warmth through her. “It’s beautiful, Trevor.”
When she would have plucked it from his palm, he closed his fingers around the trinket. Her confused gaze flew up to meet his.
“Do you know what this is?”
She nodded. “It’s a heart. I love it, Trevor.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” His hand remained fisted. “But it’s not just a heart.”
“It’s not?”
His fingers unfurled. “Look at it, Meggy.” He waited until she had. “It looks solid and it’s built strong, but it can be broken.”
She met his intense gaze and held her breath.
“I’m offering you my heart,” he continued. “I’m hoping you’ll take it with the knowledge that you have the power to crush it.”
Though she wanted to laugh and jump into his arms, she didn’t. She couldn’t, not with her future happiness looming before her. Not when he was looking so serious. Besides, she needed to be sure she understood what he was saying. She took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you, Trevor,” she said quietly, and pressed her fingers to the slow smile that spread on his lips to stop him from responding. “I never expected to find a man who would make me feel the way you do. I’ll take your heart, but only if you’ll take mine as well. I want your love, Trevor. I’ll settle for nothing less.”
The tiny heart sparkled in the lamplight as he held out his open hand. “Fairy girl, I love you more than I ever knew a man could love a woman.”
With a grin, she plucked the tiny trinket from his palm and did what she’d wanted to do. She shrieked with laughter and jumped, naked, into his arms.
Chapter Thirteen
Meggy woke to the soft lapping of waves against the hull of Christos’ Chariot. Eyes closed, she stretched like a sultry cat, basking in the warmth of Trevor’s bed. Her eyes popped open upon recalling where she was. She sat up straight, only to find the bunk beside her empty.
Early morning light illuminated the charm bracelet that was all she wore. She stretched out her bare arm to admire it. The fat heart had joined his other gifts sometime during the night, when he’d insisted he wanted her in nothing but her charms. He’d grinned as he made the request, with its double entendre, and pleased them both by spending the next few hours sampling those charms.
Pure joy burst in her heart. She flopped back against the pillow, pulling the sheet and comforter up over her head to indulge in uncontrollable glee by wriggling and squealing beneath the covers like a little girl on Christmas morning. She was still grinning at her foolishness when she poked her head out to see if her little celebration had alerted Trevor that she was awake. The room was still empty.
Trevor Bryce loved her. She shook her head where it lay, smiling at the ceiling. He hadn’t asked her to marry him, but he would. And when he did, she’d say yes. Yes! Yes! Yes! Man, she really was a goner.
The stray thought had her sitting up straight. “I need to call Cara!” Her voice was loud in the silence of the room.
Tangled in the covers, her gaze searched the room for the clutch purse she’d carried the night before. She spotted it on the chair in the corner. At the same moment, she swung her legs over the side of the bed to go collect it and her cell phone, the door opened.
“You’re awake.” Trevor crossed the room to the bed, handing her the coffee mug he carried. He covered her mouth with his in a sweet morning greeting.
“Good morning.” She smiled when he stepped away to pick up her overnight bag.
Already dressed himself, he returned to the bed with the jeans and sweater she’d packed for this morning. He held them out.
Without thought, she took them. “Wouldn’t you like to come back to bed for a little while?” She batted her eyelashes and exaggerated her best sultry look, then spoiled it by grinning.
Though his eyes darkened, he didn’t smile. “More than you know. Unfortunately, we don’t have time. I’ll leave you to dress. Meet me on deck when you’re ready.” He turned without another word.
She scrambled to her knees. “Trevor?”
He turned back to her.
Although it had to be her imagination, she thought his smile looked forced.
“It’ll be all right, Meggy. I’ll see you on deck.” The door to the cabin closed behind him with a quiet snick.
It’ll be all right? What would be all right? What was wrong? She climbed from the bunk and began pulling on her clothes. After yanking a brush through her hair, she searched through her bag for her toothbrush and quickly brushed her teeth in the basin. Without another thought, she grabbed her clutch from the chair and headed up on deck.
Trevor stood at the rail. He turned when she stepped out into the chilly morning air. His hair ruffled in the breeze.
She took a moment to appreciate how handsome he looked in worn jeans and a faded Harvard sweatshirt. Harvard? Had he gone to Harvard?
She decided right then and there that she was sitting him down and asking him all those pertinent questions she’d neglected to ask because she’d been so busy floating in the clouds over the way he made her feel. But first she meant to find out what he’d meant by that “everything will be all right” comment.
The question vanished from her mind as she noted their surroundings. Expecting an array of masts, and the bustling activity of Charlestown marina, she was bewildered at the sight of a serenely quiet stretch of sandy beach off to the right and the rocky cliff beyond. To the left, a lush lawn, beginning to yellow with the season sloped inland, and her gaze landed on the sprawling edifice perched at the top of the rise. A resort?
Disoriented, she accepted the hand Trevor held out to her and followed when he stepped from the boat to the dock. “Where are we? How did we get here?”
“We set sail after you fell asleep last night.” His hand on her elbow, he led her down the dock to the crushed shell path leading up to the resort. “There’s someone I need you to meet.”
“Who?” Though wary, she matched his step along the path.
“My grandmother.”
She skidded to a halt and tugged her arm free of his grasp. “Your grandmother? Right now? Trevor, I can’t meet your grandmother. I look horrible!” She hadn’t even taken the time to wash her face, and she still wore the dregs of last night’s makeup. Her gaze swung beyond him to the house she’d assumed was a resort, and she groaned.
He grabbed her hand and began tugging her up the hill. “You look beautiful.” His gaze ran over her face. “Gorgeous. Besides, Grandmother knows we’re here. She’s waiting for us. She’ll come charging down here herself if we don’t make an appearance in the parlor in two minutes.”
“Just let me...”
“It’ll be fine, Meggy,” he repeated, tugging her toward a set of gleaming French doors at the top of the shelled pathway.
He was springing her on his grandmother without any warning, and he thought everything would be fine? Oh, yeah, there were some things Trevor Bryce was going to learn about her as well. She’d be all too happy to enlighten him...if she didn’t belt him first.
The doors opened onto a long, wide hallway. Trevor didn’t hesitate. He continued to pull her toward some unknown point.
She took no notice of their surroundings, too busy rubbing stiff fingers at the skin under her eyes. Had her mascara smudged while she’d slept? After his odd comment, she hadn’t even glanced in a mirror, so she had no idea.
Forget belting him, she was going to kill him.
All too soon he was stepping to the side, and using his hand on the small of her back, he gave her a gentle nudge that sent her through a doorway i
nto a truly impressive room.
Decorated in classic, New England farmhouse, the walls were glossy white, the floor a stunning, wide plank. Vintage, leaden-glass windows let in the morning light in rippling beams, illuminating the inviting seating area with its sleek, feminine furniture.
Beside a working fireplace that took up a good portion of the far wall, a small, expensively dressed woman with a shock of styled, white hair sat in an upholstered chair. She rose when Meggy stepped into the room.
Grandmother Bryce, she mused. The woman was staring at her so intently, Meggy was afraid she had more to worry about than just a little smudged makeup. As stealthily as she could manage, she slid her fingers to the zipper of her jeans, and nearly laughed in relief to find it closed properly.
“Welcome home, Mr. Christos,” a feminine voice spoke from somewhere at Meggy’s back. She started, not having noticed there was anyone else in the room. Her head jerked in the direction of the voice to find a young maid nodding to Trevor before slipping out of the room. She shut the door behind her.
A glance around the room revealed only one Mr., and that was Trevor. Mr. Christos? Why would the woman call Trevor by the wrong name?
Christos? Christos’ Chariot? Uneasiness tickled at her spine. When she’d asked him about the name of his boat, he’d explained it was a family name. He hadn’t said it was his name. Her gaze tangled with his. “Mr. Christos?”
He didn’t have a chance to answer.
The door opened to admit yet another woman, and Meggy’s eyes widened in horrified disbelief. Elizabeth Ashford’s housekeeper stared back, looking as confused as Meggy felt. Forget uneasiness, she was going to throw up! She spun on her heel. Her gaze collided with the crystal blue gaze of the older woman whom she realized with sickening dread must be none other than her biological great-grandmother.
“Why don’t we all sit down?”
Meggy slapped at the hand Trevor held out. She stumbled several feet away. Oh, God.
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