She waited, hoping. But just like too many nights before, he didn’t say “I love you” back.
In her bedroom, Anna turned on the bedside lamp and slipped off her heels. Sighing, she flexed her toes before curling up against the headboard. Stacking several pillows behind her, she reached for the phone. All day she’d been looking forward to this call. She had no idea what time it was in Sri Lanka but didn’t bother to check. Phillip had told her his schedule was crazy and unpredictable, and they worked nearly nonstop. She punched in the long number, and while she waited for the connection, she tried to block out the stilted conversation she’d had with Cody. Why did it seem that every time they talked, she came away feeling like the bad guy?
Finally, a scratchy, unsteady ringing began on the other end. The phone rang several more times, and just when she started to worry he wouldn’t pick up, she heard Phillip’s voice. “Hello.”
“Phillip?” Static filled the line. “Phillip, is that you?”
“H-h-hello . . . can’t hear . . . bad . . .”
“It’s Anna.” Her voice grew louder. “Don’t hang up. Please.” The connection was horrible, but she knew it wouldn’t be any better if she hung up and tried again.
“Ann . . . ?” The word was drawn out and barely audible, but she heard it all the same.
“Yes, it’s me. I have the most amazing news.” She waited, but when she heard nothing but static, she plunged on. “I’ve been appointed Dr. Bernard’s replacement.” She paused again, waited. “Did you hear me, Phillip? I am Dr. Bernard’s replacement.”
“I . . . sorry . . . didn’t hear.”
Anna drew in a deep breath. “Dr. Shephard appointed me as Dr. Bernard’s replacement,” she said again. “It’s a temporary appointment,” she all but shouted, willing her husband to hear. “But we both know that’s only a formality.” She closed her eyes, remembering again the moment in Dr. Shephard’s office. “It’s happened, Phillip. It’s really happened.”
The connection hummed with static. “. . . congr . . . talk another . . .” And then the line went dead.
For the longest time, she didn’t move. Phillip’s last words ran over and over in her mind. Had he heard her?
Yes, she silently told herself. He had. He’d told her congratulations, she was positive. Just like she was positive he would call her tomorrow when he had a better connection.
But he didn’t call. Not the next day, or the day after that. Four nights later, when she got home from work and saw the still untouched coconut cake on the counter, she picked it up and tossed it in the garbage.
EIGHT
Something had gone wrong.
Jared stood on the beach, his boots sinking into the sand, as he watched Jenny. She was at the far end of the dock, near the plane. They had a charter today; a husband and wife on their way to Victoria, B.C., for a long weekend. From the moment the older couple had stepped out of their car, they’d been enchanted by Jenny. While they were completing paperwork and paying for their charter, she’d talked to them like they were old friends. And they’d responded. Opened up in a way Jared had never seen between strangers before. When Jenny learned they were going to visit their daughter and new grandbaby, she’d insisted on going out into her flower beds and putting together a huge bouquet. The couple had been moved by Jenny’s generosity. And as Jared had continued to watch Jenny in action, he had to admit she not only had a way with flowers but also with people. By the time the older couple boarded the plane, they were giving Jenny hugs and promising her they’d be using Blue Sky a lot more in the future.
For all her faults, Jenny Beckinsale was customer service at its finest.
The plane sputtered to life, and Zeke began to pilot it to the middle of the lake. As Jenny waved good-bye, Jared shook his head. He still didn’t understand why anyone would pay to be jostled around like monkeys in a tin can. Then again, it looked like most people agreed with him. This was only their second charter this week, and no more were scheduled for the weekend. How the seaplane stayed afloat (pun intended) was beyond him.
A breeze blew off the lake and molded Jenny’s blouse to her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Even with the distance that separated them, her perfection was unmistakable. He’d been surprised when he’d first seen her this morning. Unlike the casual clothes she’d worn the last couple of days, today, with a charter scheduled, she’d dressed up. She wore a long, fitted blue skirt that hugged her just right and a white blouse that every time he looked at it reminded him of crisp sheets and hot nights. Her high heels matched her skirt and accentuated her legs. She was stunning. Professional yet provocative. But it didn’t matter what she wore; he was fast learning that he found her irresistible.
As he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, he thought about the engagement ring she still wore. It was the only reminder he needed to keep his eye on the prize. The right prize: Mexico.
He squinted into the weak sun and turned to watch Zeke navigate west and prepare for takeoff. The clunky plane bounced along the lake like a waterlogged buoy, going so slow it was a wonder it ever managed to get airborne. There was no power. No grace or stealth. No roar of the twin jet engines.
It wasn’t an F-18.
Jared silently cursed. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t solve his current problem.
The soft click of heels on the dock drew his attention. Jenny was making her way toward him, but instead of pausing, she breezed right past, ignoring him. Just like she’d been doing ever since he’d moved in.
One look, and it was clear to see how much his presence in her life—in her house—was pissing her off. The more upset she was with him, the quicker he’d get his money, he reasoned. But something had gone wrong with his plan.
The front door banged shut behind her.
For nearly a week, he’d been more patient than he’d ever been in his life. When she’d stormed out of the house after that disastrous breakfast, he’d been certain she was running to her parents or to the bank to get his money. But as Sunday turned into Monday, then Tuesday into Wednesday, doubts settled. He brushed them aside, reminded himself it took time to get funds together. But tomorrow it would be one week since he’d set things in motion. And in anyone’s book, that was plenty of time.
Last night, he’d finally faced the truth: Jenny had no intention of getting him his money.
All week, he’d put up with her crap. From her god-awful breakfasts to her hot temper and cold stares, he took it all in stride. If putting him through her idea of hell helped ease the pain of handing over the money, he was more than happy to oblige. Besides, if she thought bad food would get rid of him, she didn’t know shit about the military. And her coffee. At first, he’d almost kissed her when the coffeepot had reappeared. Lack of caffeine in the morning turned him into a real bastard, and when he’d opened the front door after a particularly grueling run, he’d all but sighed in pleasure at the smell. Then he tasted it. If her breakfasts were bad, her coffee was downright shitty.
How could he have been so blind?
He cursed himself a thousand types of fool for not seeing it sooner. Jenny wasn’t just trying to make his life miserable while she got his money—she was just trying to make his life miserable. Period. Money had nothing to do with it. Well, if she thought he was just going to disappear over a few bad meals, she was dead wrong. Cotton Tail had pissed off the wrong person.
He blamed himself. He’d been taken in by a set of kiss-me lips, sky blue eyes, and a body that made a man think about only one thing.
“Damn it,” he cursed and itched his leg.
He woke up this morning, ready to try talking to her once more, when he noticed his arms and legs covered in small bumps. Small, itchy bumps. And the more he scratched, the more they itched. During breakfast, Jenny kept glancing his way which, in and of itself, was odd, since she’d done everything she could to avoid him this past week. But this morning, she’d hung around. He knew she was there for the charter, to assist the passengers and
help Zeke with any last-minute preparations. But for a short while he’d also been lulled into the false euphoria that she was about to hand over his money.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
All during breakfast, he’d been scratching his arms and legs, wondering what the hell he’d gotten into.
Twice she asked him if he was all right. Twice he’d told her he was fine. By the third time, he wised up.
“I saw you out pulling underbrush yesterday,” she’d said after he’d gone after a particular nasty bump, her voice full of earnest concern, her eyes wide with innocent distress. “I hope you didn’t get into any stinging nettles. They can be miserable.”
Earnest and innocent his ass. Behind those baby blues lurked all the compassion of MiG on his tail. It was right then he realized he’d seriously underestimated his adversary. A fact that didn’t sit well with him.
The lousy food. The crappy coffee. The silent treatment. And now—hives.
This time, he hadn’t given her the satisfaction of an answer. He went outside and looked through the weeds he’d cleared. Halfway through the pile, he saw them: stinging nettles. And she’d known just what he’d been getting into and hadn’t said a word.
So she wanted to play dirty. Nothing could have pleased him more.
As if on cue, a black SUV turned into the driveway. As it neared, the sign on the driver’s side door came into view: Hidden Lake Properties.
Jared scratched at his leg and smiled. While he’d been working on the property, it dawned on him they were sitting on a gold mine. Literally. This piece of waterfront had to be worth a fortune. Jenny might have an aversion to selling, but Jared sure as hell didn’t.
As a short, balding man with a slight paunch got out of the SUV, Jared made his way across the beach. Reaching the SUV, he extended his hand. “Mr. Owen?”
“Brad, please,” the man said, shaking Jared’s hand. “And you must be Jared Worth.”
“Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
“Happy to do it.” Brad gave a short laugh. “I have to admit, even if my schedule hadn’t been open, I would have rearranged it.”
“Oh?”
“Never thought I’d see this particular piece of property go up for sale.”
Jared was sure the realtor wasn’t the only one. He glanced to the house.
“Times change.”
“That they do. That they do,” the realtor said with a brief air of sadness. “Now,” he said, grabbing a briefcase from his SUV, “I’ve brought along some paperwork I thought would help us determine a fair market value.” He paused, looked around. “I assume Jennifer will want to be present for this discussion?”
You bet your sweet ass. “She’s inside.”
“Great.”
As they neared the house, Jared saw the telltale movement of the curtains. This time, he didn’t bother hiding his smile. You can run, Cotton Tail, but you can’t hide.
“Mr. Owen.” Jenny was on the porch waiting for them.
“Jennifer.” The realtor greeted her with a warmth and familiarity that momentarily threw Jared. Then again, this town was the size of a walnut; of course they’d know each other.
Jenny shot Jared a hard, questioning look, then turned back to Brad, her mood doing a one eighty. “How’s Linda?”
“Still volunteering at the school, even though the twins graduated ten years ago.”
“Is Bryce still in California?”
Brad gave a good-natured grimace. “We’re holding out hope he’ll come to his senses soon and return back home to God’s country.”
Jenny smiled. “And Byron? Is he—”
“Let’s go inside,” Jared interrupted. Old home week was getting old. He hadn’t called the realtor so he and Jenny could take a stroll down catch-up lane.
She pursed her lips and, without saying a word, made it abundantly clear she thought he had the manners of a feral dog.
He scratched his arm. Too damn bad.
She opened the door to let them in, but as Jared went to walk past her, she drilled him with a what-in-the-world-is-going-on look. He ignored her and followed Brad inside. With obvious reluctance, and a good deal of trepidation, Jenny directed them to the front living room, which was used as a waiting area for Blue Sky’s customers. The furnishings were more formal than the family room in the back of the house and in better condition. Not that that surprised Jared. From what he could tell of the business, the room probably got used only about once or twice a week at the most.
Two wing chairs in a soft green fabric flanked the fireplace. Jenny sat in one, Brad in the other, leaving the camelback couch vacant for Jared. Brad placed his briefcase on the round coffee table between them.
“Can I get you anything?” Jenny asked Brad, ignoring Jared. “Coffee?”
“Just say no,” he told the realtor.
Jenny scowled at him.
Brad looked from Jared to Jenny, assuming they were joking. But no one was laughing.
“If you drink her coffee,” Jared explained, “you’ll need your stomach pumped.”
Brad laughed. “Ah, yes, now I remember. Has Jennifer ever told you about the coffee stand she used to own?”
“I’m sure Jared isn’t interested,” she said quickly.
Yesterday, she couldn’t have been more right, but today, he found himself more than interested. Warfare 101: learn as much as you could about your enemy. “A coffee stand?” he prodded the realtor.
Jenny hunched down in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.
Brad coughed a few times, trying to cover his laughter. “Closed down in less than two weeks. Has to be a record for this area.”
“A real success, was she?”
Another few coughs from the realtor. Another bad job of camouflaging his amusement.
“I’m sure Mr. Owen has better things to do than discuss my past employment.” Jenny angled in her chair and faced the older man. “Actually, I am curious as to why you are here.”
“You don’t know?” Brad fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. “I just assumed . . . I mean, well, didn’t you ask Mr. Worth to call?”
“No,” Jenny gave Jared another one of her Sunday school teacher stares. When would she learn he was immune?
“Oh my,” the realtor said.
Jared leaned forward and braced his arms on his legs. “Jenny and I are partners.”
“Yes . . . I did hear something to that effect.”
“As such, I have an equal stake in this property. In order to come current with some outstanding debts, I believe it is in the best interest of everyone involved if we put the land up for sale.”
Jenny shot to her feet so fast, the chair rocked on its wooden legs, startling the realtor. “Over my dead body!”
Jared stared at her.
“Mr. Owen.” She took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m sorry you’ve been called out here on a fool’s errand. I have no intention of selling this land.”
“I must admit, I hadn’t thought so.” Brad got to his feet and picked up his briefcase. “But when I received the call, well, you just never know,” he said, making his way to the front door. He couldn’t seem to leave fast enough.
“How dare you?” Jenny hurled at Jared the moment the door closed.
“How dare I what?”
“Don’t play games with me. You now what I’m talking about.”
“Obviously you haven’t been hearing me.”
“My hearing is just fine. It’s yours that’s in question.”
For a moment Jared was sidetracked by Jenny in full fury. Her blue eyes were as hard and cold as ice, her breathing fast and shallow. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. He found himself captivated, and then his leg started to itch once more, and he remembered exactly why he’d called the realtor. Underneath all those gorgeous curves beat a devious heart hell-bent on his destruction. “I want my money.”
“I want you to leave.”
“Then we’re in agreement.”
“Like hell we are.”
“Either we sell this land, or you get the money from somewhere else.”
For a short moment, some of her anger seemed to leave. “I tried.”
“Tried what?”
“Getting a loan.”
“And?”
Her eyes flashed, all her anger back. “They turned me down, all right?”
Jared tried not to let that piece of news affect him. “Then go to your parents. I’m sure they’d be only too happy to help you out.”
“No,” she said with such finality that Jared knew it would do no good to push her.
“Sell that damn car.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “That car was Steven’s.”
Jared hadn’t known. For the second time that morning, his eyes flashed to her left hand. Jenny would no sooner get rid of Steven’s car than she’d take off his ring. At the thought, an unexpected flare of jealousy blindsided him.
Christ. Jealous of his dead friend. He really was a bastard.
“Then we’re back to square one. Sell the plane. The land. I don’t care, you pick.”
Jenny stared at him for a long moment. “This property has been in my family for over a hundred years. My great-grandparents homesteaded this land. My grandfather expanded and remodeled the house. Put in the original dock. This land is as much a part of me as my heart. I will never”—she paused for emphasis—“never sell. I have four months in which to pay you back, and I plan on using every last bit of that time.” She walked out of the living room and out of the house. The screen door banged shut behind her.
He started to follow her. This was ridiculous—she was being ridiculous. Running away solved nothing. But before he’d even gone half the distance, he stopped.
The ties he thought Jenny had here—the ones with Steven—were easily healed compared to her family’s history on this land. He’d seen the pictures in the family room; he should have known. But somehow, the still images failed to capture the emotional connection he’d heard in her voice.
He looked out through the mesh on the screen door. Jenny was on her knees in front of one of the flower beds, a garden caddy full of hand tools by her side. All around her flowers bloomed in a riotous rainbow. While she might be the world’s worst cook, she could work miracles with flowers.
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