Cautious Lover

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Cautious Lover Page 6

by Stephanie James

“You don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “Little Compass Rose hated him on sight.” And it didn’t take me much longer to hate him, Elly added si­lently. She had begun to hate and fear Damon Carring­ton the moment she realized he was a threat to Jess.

  “Compass Rose? Oh, you mean Sarah Mitchell’s kid. I’m not talking about his effect on children. But I’ve seen him manipulate women, and they’re like putty in his hands. Stay out of his way. Do you understand me, Elly?”

  “I understand.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her instinct was to give him the agreement he de­manded and then change the subject. Once again she found herself hesitating to push Jess.

  Out on the street there was no sign of Carrington. Elly was grateful. “Sarah said to tell you that she could do the stained-glass designs whenever you were ready. The sooner the better, Jess.”

  It was obvious Jess still had other things on his mind. He frowned down at Elly. “Why sooner? I’ve got that work scheduled a couple of months downstream.”

  “There’s been no word from Mark. No money either.”

  Jess nodded abruptly. “I get it. The bastard’s skipped, huh? Okay, I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I’ll give her an ad­vance on the job. That should hold her for a while.”

  “Thank you, Jess.” A good man, Elly thought.

  “Elly?”

  “Yes?”

  “I meant what I said a minute ago. Stay away from Carrington. He’s poison.”

  It occurred to Elly that she had never seen Jess Winter so passionate about anything before, except for those brief moments last night when he had finally begun to make love to her. “It’s obvious the Carringtons, brother and sister, had a fairly traumatic effect on you, Jess.”

  “It’s trauma I can do without repeating. Remember how you once told me that you loved to live near the ocean, that you like looking at it, watching the changing weather on it, walking alongside it, but that you never ever went swimming in it?”

  “I remember.” It was the truth. She never swam in the sea.

  “Well, treat Damon Carrington the same way.”

  “Look, but don’t touch?”

  “I don’t even want you looking at him.”

  She smiled tremulously and not without a touch of hope. “Are you telling me that you might be capable of feeling a little jealousy over me?”

  The ill-advised remark stopped him in his tracks. “Lady, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You haven’t got the least idea of what jealousy does to peo­ple, so don’t try to tease me. I want your word of honor that you’ll steer clear of Carrington.”

  “Oh, Jess, I never meant…”

  “Your word, Elly,” he repeated roughly, his fingers sinking almost painfully into her shoulders.

  She looked up at him with gentle assurance. “Jess, you don’t have to worry about Carrington putting a spell on me. I feel toward him very much the way Compass Rose does.”

  He watched her for a moment and then seemed to come to some inner conclusion. “Good. Keep it that way.”

  She would, Elly thought with a sense of resignation, because she loved Jess too much ever to let herself be used against him, even if it was only his pride that was at stake. But she couldn’t help wishing that more than his pride and self-respect were involved.

  A part of her wished Jess loved her so passionately that he might truly be vulnerable to the fear of losing her to another man. As it was, she was very much aware that his reactions to Carrington stemmed from the unpleasant­ness of the past and from an angry pride that refused to let a woman lead him through hell again.

  Four

  On Monday morning Elly gave in to the impulse to take a walk on the beach before opening The Natural Choice. She’d taken Sunday off as usual, but the day had not been a particularly relaxing one. This morning she was tense and restless.

  Jess had left for Portland the previous evening. At least he’d stopped pressuring her for an answer to his pro­posal, Elly thought unhappily. He finally seemed to sense that she needed more time to come to terms with the sit­uation. She had known instinctively that he hadn’t wanted to give her that additional time, and in a way it surprised her. Until now Jess had acted as if there was no rush about anything in life. He had been content to let matters take their course. But, then, that was probably because until now Jess had set the course himself. The schedule might have seemed loose, Elly decided, but it had been in place. Subtly, calmly, quietly, Jess Winter had been in control of events all along. Until the past had intruded.

  There had been no sign of Damon Carrington since Saturday afternoon. No one in town seemed to have seen him and that apparently reassured Jess. Elly had a hunch that if there had been any indication that Carrington was still around, Jess would have found an excuse not to re­turn to Portland. It would have been an expensive ex­cuse because these last few weeks in the city were important from a business standpoint. Jess was winding up a lucrative consulting assignment and finalizing his financial arrangements for the forthcoming change in his life-style. It would have constituted another unwelcome change in his plans.

  The tide was out this morning, and Elly took pleasure in exploring the nooks and crannies that were underwa­ter at other times. The beach here was a rocky one, with a number of fascinating tidepools, encrusted formations and miniature worlds tucked away in the rocks. The small cove was dominated by a huge boulder that crouched aloofly in the center. When the tide was in, there was no way to reach it. Foaming water surged around it, acting like a moat around a castle. But this morning it stood undefended, prepared to yield its secrets to anyone who was willing to cross the damp, packed sand.

  Elly had explored the rock castle before, but it never ceased to interest her. Starfish clung to its base, small fish swam in pools of trapped water and a variety of crusta­ceans scampered over the surface in an endless quest for food.

  The sea was an alien world to Elly, one she found en­thralling but also one she feared on some levels. It was all very well to study its creatures while they were exposed and vulnerable. The thought of meeting them in their natural environment while the tide was in struck a pri­mitive chord of genuine fear. And it wasn’t just the life forms of the sea she feared. The power of the surging waves was equally disturbing. Elly could swim, but she never swam in the sea. She hadn’t since that one terrify­ing afternoon on a southern California beach.

  But this morning she poked around the huge boulder in the quiet cove with her usual interest, her mind occu­pied with the problem of Jess Winter.

  She had been belatedly astonished by her initial reac­tion to the threat of Damon Carrington. Her instincts had been to defend Jess, but that was ridiculous. If any­one could take care of himself, it was Jess Winter. Per­haps a woman always felt that way about the man she loved.

  “Ah, Jess,” she muttered, turning away from the ex­posed boulder to start back toward the house, “do you think you’ll ever let yourself really fall in love again?” And if he did, was she the kind of woman he would choose?

  Comfortable, even-tempered, sweet. Elly ran through the irritating list of adjectives Jess so often applied to her, and she wanted to scream. The list hardly allowed for passion and love. But, then, Jess didn’t want to allow for either of those potentially dangerous emotions in his life.

  Elly thought of those brief moments Friday night when at last she had stirred real desire in him. It was foolish to cling to such thoughts and try to build on them. After all, it was perfectly possible for a man to have his sexual ap­petite aroused without having any real love aroused with it.

  In any event, the whole project had foundered be­cause of a face at the window. Not for the first time, Elly wondered if it had been Damon Carrington peering into her living room that night. In the dark and the fog would Jess have briefly mistaken Damon for his twin?

  Reluctantly Elly climbed the cliff path. At the top she turned one last time to gaze out at the everchanging sea. The chilled early morni
ng breeze whipped at her braids, loosing strands of hair that blew into her eyes. Perhaps it was those tendrils that were causing the threat of tears.

  The phone rang that evening just as Elly was sitting down to a quiet meal in the kitchen. The possibility that it might be Aunt Clara almost kept her from answering. The probability that it might be Jess made Elly stretch out her hand.

  “Oh, Jess, I’m glad it’s you.”

  “Who were you expecting?” There was an unfamiliar edge to the question.

  “I was afraid it might be Aunt Clara.”

  Jess seemed to relax on the other end of the line. “Has she been pestering you?”

  “No, but she will as the time of the stockholders’ meeting gets closer,” Elly predicted. “Aunt Clara is very persistent, especially where money is concerned.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that situation, Elly.” Jess suddenly sounded all business. “Why don’t I look into it for you? If Aunt Clara and the family knew you had some, er…”

  “High-priced firepower to back me, she might stop bothering me?” Elly concluded with a quick grin. “Jess, I couldn’t afford even half your usual fee.”

  “For you I’ll work cheap.”

  “How cheap?”

  He paused and then said blandly, “An answer to my proposal would be sufficient. A yes answer, that is.”

  Elly’s brief humor faded. “Jess, please don’t push.”

  “Honey, there’s no reason to hesitate and you know it.” He seemed to want to pursue the argument but in­stead changed the subject. “Carrington hasn’t shown up has he?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I want you to let me know immediately if he does. Understand, Elly?”

  “I understand.” Elly wondered how Jess could sud­denly sound so cold and forbidding. Only a few seconds ago he had been trying to coax her into agreeing to marry him.

  “Eating dinner?”

  “How did you guess?”

  “Just a hunch, based on the fact that I’m about to eat mine. What are you having?”

  “Leftover lentil casserole and a glass of that Washing­ton State cabernet wine I had tucked away in the cup­board.”

  “Sounds good. Better than the frozen dinner I just put into the oven. I’ll be down early on Friday, Elly.”

  Elly’s hand clenched in unexpected nervousness. “Fine.”

  “I think you should be able to have your answer ready by then, don’t you?” The question was cool and pointed. “I—I don’t know, Jess.”

  “I think you do, honey. Stop dragging it out. You know this is what you want. Goodnight, Elly.”

  “Goodnight, Jess.” Unhappily she replaced the re­ceiver. He had cut off the conversation so quickly to­night. Usually Jess talked for half an hour when he called,

  The phone rang almost immediately. Elly reached for it without thinking, and this time it was Aunt Clara. With a stifled groan, Elly forced herself to listen politely while her aunt went through a harangue about the financial reasons for selling Trentco. There was no attempt at a discussion; it was purely a lecture.

  Elly was exhausted by the time she hung up and for the first time she wondered if things might not be easier if she let Jess represent her. Dealing with family was always an emotionally taxing situation, especially when the rela­tives in question were Trents. Maybe a disinterested third party could exert a calming, persuasive influence.

  The drawback to involving Jess in the thorny family situation was that it meant involving him more deeply in her life at a time when Elly was wondering if it wouldn’t be best to end the relationship.

  It was Sarah Mitchell who reminded her the next day of the potluck gathering scheduled for Wednesday eve­ning.

  “Good Lord, I almost forgot,” Elly exclaimed. “I’m supposed to take my world-famous lentil casserole.”

  “I didn’t know you had a famous lentil casserole. Last time you brought a salad, didn’t you?”

  “Believe me, this sucker is going to be famous after Wednesday evening. I’ve been working on it for months. I think I’ve got it tuned to perfection. Jess seems to like it, at any rate. What are you bringing, Sarah?”

  “Thanks to the advance I got from Jess I think I can manage my usual whole wheat pasta salad. By the way, I’ve already started designing some glass for the entry-way of his inn. I went out to the place this morning and did some studies. I’m really looking forward to doing the work.”

  Sarah’s enthusiasm was heartwarming. Little Com­pass Rose jabbered contentedly while the adults talked, and Elly privately concluded that both the child and her mother were probably going to be better off without the unreliable influence of Mark Casey in their lives.

  That realization made Elly think of Jess. Whatever qualms she had about marrying him weren’t based on any fears of his unreliability. Jess was the kind of man you could count on when the chips were down. Elly knew that with a deep-seated instinct.

  The potluck on Wednesday was a casual meeting of neighbors and friends that Elly fully expected to enjoy. A month ago a similar party had been held at the house of a local artisan who lived fairly close to Elly. Tonight, however, a different couple had opened their home, and this time Elly had been obliged to drive several miles to the farmsite. Ann Palmer and her husband, Jim, had re­cently moved to Oregon from California and were intent on pursuing a back-to-the-land life-style. It remained to be seen whether they would be successful in making the farm produce, but in the meantime they were thor­oughly enjoying their new life.

  “Elly! There you are. I was wondering where you were.” Ann Palmer approached to take the lentil casser­ole as her guest walked in the door. “Next month we all expect Jess to accompany you to these gala social bashes. He’ll have completed his move by then, won’t he?”

  “If all goes according to schedule,” Elly agreed dip­lomatically. “And where Jess is concerned, nearly everything does go according to schedule.” She glanced around the room full of casually dressed craftsmen, art­ists, small-time farmers and boutique proprietors and wondered whether Jess knew what he would be getting into socially. Probably. He always seemed to know what he was doing.

  Half an hour later Elly was in the middle of an intense discussion concerning the merits of growing one’s own sprouts when the roomful of people underwent that strange phenomena of going quiet all at once. Instinc­tively Elly glanced toward the door, and quite suddenly she knew what Jess had meant when he had tried to ex­plain the Carringtons’ impact on a crowd.

  Damon Carrington stood in the doorway, smiling in secret amusement as everyone glanced at the tall figure. He was dressed all in black and a lock of blond hair curled rakishly over one brow. His green eyes moved over the curious faces with no sign of self-consciousness, just a hint of condescension. He was not alone. At his side was Sarah Mitchell, looking happier than Elly had seen her since Mark had left.

  Elly watched her friend in dismay, but she knew im­mediately there would be no point trying to warn her about Damon. The Carrington charm was clearly at work and highly effective. Little Compass Rose had appar­ently been left with a sitter for the evening. Elly won­dered if the child had been wailing when her mother left with the strange man.

  The hum of activity started up again, and Elly ex­cused herself to get some more salad from the long table that had been set up against one wall. As far as she was concerned, her pleasure in the friendly evening had just evaporated. Damon Carrington was still around and that, she knew in her bones, meant trouble.

  “Hi, Elly. You met Damon the other day, remem­ber?” Sarah’s voice was bubbling with enthusiasm. “I ran into him yesterday again when I went out to Jess’s inn to make some more sketches. Wasn’t that a coincidence? Damon is very fond of Victorian architecture, aren’t you Damon?”

  “Fascinated.” Damon’s brilliant green eyes swept over Elly. She wanted to cringe from that gaze, and found she had to make an effort to act nonchalantly. “I under­stand you have a very interesting place yourself, E
lly.”

  “Nothing spectacular,” she assured him quickly. “Just an old, updated beach cottage, actually.”

  “I’d like to see it sometime,” he murmured.

  “I’m afraid I really don’t…”

  Before Elly could finish her horrified excuse, Sarah was interrupting cheerfully. “I told Damon he would probably be bored to tears tonight, but he insisted on coming along. Said he wanted to see what life was like in a small beach town.”

  “I imagine it’s a real change for you, Damon,” Elly said coolly.

  “I’m highly adaptable.”

  “I’ll just bet you are,” Elly murmured. She sipped her hot spiced cider and tried to think of a way to escape from the small confrontation.

  “Damon says he’d like to take me and Compass Rose to the beach tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Sarah reached around Elly to help herself to a small sandwich.

  “It’s too cold for swimming,” Damon said, accepting the sandwich from Sarah with a charming smile, “but I thought Compass Rose might enjoy playing on the beach.”

  “It’s always too cold for swimming as far as Elly is concerned,” Sarah said with a laugh. “She hates the wa­ter, don’t you Elly? She’s afraid of sharks and things. Has a real phobia about swimming in the sea.”

  “I didn’t realize there were sharks in these waters,” Damon said, eyeing Elly with interest.

  “The truth is,” Elly said blandly, “most of the sharks are on land. Which is lucky, I guess. So much easier to spot them that way.” She didn’t wait to see if Damon had gotten the point. Instead she slipped away from the pot­luck table with a smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I want to talk to Ruth and Liz about that quilt they’re doing for me. I’ll see you later, Sarah.”

  “Right,” Sarah smiled and turned back to bask in the attention of the handsomest male at the gathering.

  From a discrete distance Elly watched her friend dur­ing the rest of the evening, knowing there was really nothing she could do to interfere. Damon had set out to make a conquest. It was easy to see, Elly decided, just what a captivating effect Damon Carrington had on women. Every female in the room was aware of him. When they spoke to him they bubbled with enthusiasm; their eyes were a little brighter, the conversation a little more intense. There was a feeling of excitement in the air. Elly could imagine what the impact on the males would be if a female version of Damon had walked into the room. She began to see what Marina Carrington must have been like in action. It was frightening.

 

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