"Just dandy, thanks," Ripley replied.
Her smug smile transformed into a scowl when Mia stepped in.
"I wanted to extend my compliments." She spotted the egg rolls. "Ah, a new offering." She took one, bit in. "Lovely. Hello, Ripley. I barely recognized you in your girl attire. How did you decide whether to wear the black or the white this evening?"
"Up yours."
"Don't start. I haven't time to referee."
"Don't worry." Ripley snagged one more egg roll. "I can't waste the energy on Hecate here. Gladys's nephew from Cambridge just arrived and is looking just fine. I'm going to go hit on him."
"It's so comforting to know some things never change."
"Don't touch anything," Nell ordered, then hurried out with the tray.
"So…" Because she preferred being away from the crowd of people, but still wanted to eat, Ripley eased up the lid on a covered tray. "Nell seems okay."
"Why wouldn't she?"
"Don't play dumb, Mia. It doesn't suit that cat face of yours." Ripley helped herself to a couple of frosted, heart-shaped cookies. "I don't need a scrying mirror to see she's had a rough time. A woman like her doesn't pop up on the island with nothing to her name but a backpack and a secondhand Buick unless she's on the run. Zack figures some guy knocked her around."
When Mia said nothing, Ripley leaned back on the counter, nibbled. "Look, I like her, and my brother's gone over her. I'm not looking to hassle her, but maybe to help if she needs it."
"With or without your badge?"
"Either or both. It seems to me she's putting down stakes here, not just working for you, but starting this catering deal. She's starting a life on Three Sisters. That makes her one of mine."
"Give me one of those." Mia held out her hand, waited until Ripley gave her a cookie. "What are you asking me, Ripley?"
"If Zack's right, and if he is, if someone's going to come after her."
"Whatever Nell's told me in confidence has to be respected."
Loyalty, Ripley was forced to admit, was never a question with Mia. It was more a religion. "I'm not asking you to break a confidence."
Mia nipped into the cookie. "You just can't say it, can you?"
"Oh, kiss ass." Ripley slapped the lid back on the tray, started to storm out. But there was something about the way Nell had been, flushed and happy, as she worked in the miraculously ordered kitchen, that pulled at her.
She spun back. "Tell me what you've seen. I want to help her."
"Yes, I know." Mia finished the cookie, dusted the crumbs from her fingers. "There's a man. He hunts and he haunts her. He's the physical reality of her every fear, doubt, worry. If he comes here, if he finds her, she'll need both of us. And she'll need the courage to take her own power and use it."
"What's his name?"
"I can't tell you that. It wasn't shown to me."
"But you know it."
"What she gave to me I can't pass on to you. I can't break her trust." The worry in Mia's eyes crawled into Ripley's belly. "If I could, and did, his name would make no difference. This is her path, Ripley. We can guide and support, instruct and assist. But in the end, it'll be her choice. You know the legend as well as I."
"I'm not getting into that." Ripley pushed the subject away with a sharp gesture. "I'm talking about someone's safety. A friend's safety."
"So am I. But I'm also talking about a friend's destiny. If you really want to help her, you could start by taking responsibility for your own." With that, Mia walked out.
"Responsibility, my butt." Ripley was annoyed enough to pry up the lid for one more cookie.
She knew what her responsibilities were. She was obliged to see to the safety of the residents and visitors of Three Sisters Island. To keep order and uphold the law.
Beyond that, her responsibilities were nobody's business but hers. And it wasn't responsible to go around practicing mumbo jumbo and clinging to some stupid legend that was as much nonsense now as it had been three centuries before.
She was the island deputy, not part of some mystic trio of saviors. And she wasn't destined to mete out some nebulous psychic justice.
Now she'd lost her appetite, and her desire to hit on Gladys Macey's nephew. Served her right for wasting time with Mia Devlin.
Disgusted, she stalked out of the kitchen. The first thing she saw as she moved back toward the party was Zack. He was in the middle of things, where he always seemed to be when it came to people. They were drawn to him. But even as he stood in the middle of a group who chattered at him, she could see that his gaze and his mind were aimed elsewhere.
It was all for Nell.
Now, Ripley watched her brother as he watched Nell circulate with her fancy little egg rolls. There was no doubt about it.
The man was completely over the moon.
While she could resist and ignore Mia's talk of destinies and responsibilities when it came to herself, when it came to a newly formed and still evolving friendship, it was an entirely different matter. Especially if it involved her brother.
There was nothing she wouldn't have done for Zack, even if it meant linking hands with Mia.
She was going to have to pay close attention to the situation, reevaluate periodically. Do some hard, uncomfortable thinking.
"He's on the edge," Mia whispered in her ear. "The shimmering edge just before the breathless tumble."
"I've got eyes, don't I?"
"Do you know what happens when he falls?"
Ripley took the wineglass out of Mia's hand, drank half of it. "Why don't you tell me?"
"He'll lay down his life for her, without an instant's hesitation. He's the most admirable man I know." She took the glass back, sipped. "That, at least, is a point of absolute agreement between us."
Because she knew it, Ripley weakened. "I want a protective spell. I want you to take care of that."
"I've already done what I can. In the end, it has to be a circle of three."
"I can't think about this now. I'm not going to talk about it now."
"All right. Why don't we just stand here and watch a strong and admirable man fall in love? Moments this pure shouldn't be wasted." Mia laid a hand on Ripley's shoulder, a casual link. "She doesn't see it. Even as it passes over her like a breath of warm air, she isn't whole enough to know it."
With a sigh that may have held the barest whiff of envy, Mia looked down into her wine. "Come on. I'll buy you a drink."
~•~
Zack bided his time. He talked with the other guests, danced with the ladies, shared a celebratory beer with Carl. He listened with apparent interest to village complaints and scrutinized the alcohol intake of anyone who held car keys.
He watched Nell serve food, chat with the guests, replenish pots staying warm over little cans of sterno. What he observed, he thought, was a blooming.
He started to ask if he could lend her a hand, then realized it was laughable. Not only did he have no clue what needed to be done, but she so obviously needed no one's help.
As the crowd thinned out, he drove a few celebrants home himself, to be on the safe side. It was nearly midnight before he felt his own duties were dispatched and he could hunt Nell up in the kitchen.
Empty trays were stacked neatly on Gladys's marbled white counter. Serving bowls were nested. The sink was filled with soapy water that sent up little fingers of steam, and Nell was systematically loading the dishwasher.
"When's the last time you were off your feet?"
"I lost track." She slid plates into slots. "But the fact that they're killing me makes me incredibly happy."
"Here." He held out a glass of champagne. "I thought you deserved this."
"I certainly do." She took a quick sip before she set it aside. "All these weeks of planning, and it's done. And I have five, count them, five appointments for jobs next week. Did you know Mary Harrison's daughter is getting married next spring?"
"I heard that. To John Bigelow. Cousin of mine."
"I hav
e a shot at catering it."
"I vote you put those meatballs of yours on the menu. They were really tasty."
"I'll make a note of it." It felt so good to be able to plan ahead. Not just a day or a week, but months ahead. "Did you see the way Gladys and Carl danced together?"
She straightened, pressing hard on the aching small of her back. "Thirty years, and they were dancing on the patio, looking at each other like it was the first time. It was the best moment of the night for me. Do you know why?"
"Why?"
She turned to him. "Because them dancing together, them looking at each other the way they were, was what this was all about. Not decorations or pretty lights or cocktail shrimp. It was about people making a connection, and believing in it. In each other. What would have happened if either one of them, all those years ago, had stepped back or turned away? They'd have missed dancing on the patio, and everything in between."
"I never got to dance with you." He reached out, skimmed his fingers over her cheek. "Nell—"
"There you are!" Eyes damp and brilliant, Gladys rushed in. "I was afraid you'd slipped out."
"No, indeed. I need to finish up here, then do a run-through of the house to make sure I have everything back in order."
"You certainly do not. You've done enough, more than I expected. I never had such a party, not in my whole life. Why, people will be talking about it for years."
She took Nell's shoulders, kissed both her cheeks. "I was a pest, and I know it." Then she hugged Nell breathless. "Oh, this was such a treat, and I'm not waiting three decades to do it again. Now, I want you to go home and get off your feet."
She pressed a crisp hundred-dollar bill into Nell's hand. "This is for you."
"Mrs. Macey, you're not supposed to tip me. Peg and—"
"I've taken care of them. You're going to hurt my feelings if you don't take this and go buy yourself something pretty. Now I want you to scat. Anything else needs to be done, it'll wait until tomorrow. Sheriff, you help our Nell out to her car with her trays."
"I'll do that."
"This was better than my wedding," Gladys said as she started to the door. She turned back briefly, winked. "Now let's see if we can improve on my wedding night."
"Looks like Carl's in for a surprise." Zack hefted a stack of trays. "We'd better move along, give the young couple some privacy."
"I'm right behind you."
It took three trips between them, with Carl pushing a bottle of champagne into Nell's hands as he nudged them along.
"Here's your hat, what's your hurry?" Zack chuckled as he loaded Nell's trunk.
"Where's your car?"
"Hmm? Oh, Ripley used it to take the last couple of semi-impaired guests home. Most people walked, which helped out."
Nell let herself look at him. He was wearing a suit, but had already rid himself of the tie. She could see the faint bulge where he'd stuffed it in his pocket.
He'd opened his collar, so she could see the clean, tanned line of his throat.
There was a faint smile on his lips as he watched the lights in the Macey house wink out, one at a time. His profile wasn't perfect. His hair hadn't been styled. And the way he stood, his thumbs tucked in the front pockets of his suit pants, was relaxed rather than posed.
When the shimmer of desire came, she didn't try to close it off. Instead she took a step forward.
"I've only had half a glass of champagne. I'm unimpaired, thinking clearly, and my reflexes are perfect."
He turned his head toward her. "As sheriff, I'm glad to know it."
Still watching him, she drew her keys out of her pocket, held them dangling. "Come home with me. You drive."
The twinkle in his eyes turned to razor-sharp intensity. "I'm not going to ask if you're sure." He took the keys. "I'm just going to tell you to get in the car."
Her knees felt a bit wobbly, but she walked to the door, slid in while he got behind the wheel.
When he yanked her across the seat, ravished her mouth, she forgot all about wobbly knees and did her best to crawl into his lap.
"Hold on, just hold on. Christ Jesus." He stabbed the keys into the ignition. The engine whimpered to life, and he swung the protesting car into a tight U-turn. It shimmied in protest, making Nell giggle nervously.
"If this heap falls apart before we get there, we'll have to run for it. Zack—" She flipped off the seat belt she'd automatically snapped on, and slithered over to bite his ear. "I feel like I'm going to explode."
"Did I ever mention I'm particularly partial to women wearing little black vests?"
"No. Really?"
"I just found out tonight." Reaching out, he snagged the vest by the center vee, tugged her back against him. Understandably distracted, he took the turn too sharp and bumped the wheels over the curb.
"One more minute," he panted. "Just one more minute."
With a squeal of brakes and a violent jerk, he stopped in front of Nell's cottage. He managed, barely, to turn off the ignition before he reached for her. Dragging her across his lap, he found her mouth with his again. And let his hands do as they pleased.
Need spurted through her, hot and welcome. Riding on it, she tugged at his jacket, arched against his hands. And thrilled at the first scrape of callus over her flesh.
"Inside." He felt as randy and impatient as a teenager, and as fumbling as he fought to open the car door. "We have to get inside."
He whipped her out, his breathing already ragged as they continued to fight with each other's clothes. They stumbled, and buttons popped off his shirt. As he half carried her toward the cottage, her delighted laughter rang in his head.
"Oh! I love your hands! I want them all over me."
"I'll take care of that. Goddamn it, what's wrong with this door?" Even as he vented his frustration by rapping his hip hard against it, it flew open.
They ended up in a heap on the floor, half in, half out.
"Right here. Right here." She chanted it while her fingers worked busily at his belt.
"Wait. Just a—let me close the—" He managed to roll, scoot, and kick the door shut.
The room was all moonlight and shadows. The floor was as hard as brick. Neither of them noticed as they tore at clothes, rolled and tugged. He caught glimpses, beautiful, erotic images of pale skin, soft curves, delicate lines.
He wanted to look. He wanted to wallow.
He had to take.
When her shirt caught at her wrists by the cuffs, he gave up, gave in and lowered his mouth to her breast.
She vibrated beneath him, a volcano on the brink of erupting. Flashes of white-hot heat, curls of keen-edged longing raced through her system until she was raw and ready.
She arched under him, more demand than offer, her nails biting restlessly into his back. The world was spinning, faster and faster, as if she'd leaped upon some mad carousel and all that kept her earthbound was the glorious weight of his body on hers.
"Right now." She gripped his hips, opened for him. "Right now!"
He plunged, letting his body take over, letting his mind go. There was nothing but the relentless fury to mate. She closed around him, a hot, wet fist, and he felt her tighten, stretching like a bow beneath him before she let out a cry that rang with triumph.
Her climax ripped through him like madness.
Pleasure geysered through her, flooding senses, swamping reason. Flying free, she wrapped herself around him, clinging tight to take him with her.
And with her sheer joy, drove him over the edge.
Chapter Twelve
His ears were ringing. Or maybe it was just the sound of his heart banging against his ribs like a fist on piano keys. Either way, he couldn't get his mind clear or his body to move. He'd have worried about temporary paralysis if he could've worked up the energy to worry about anything.
"Okay," he managed and breathed in. "All right." And out again. "I guess I tripped."
"Me, too." She was flattened under him, in the perfect position to nuzzle a
t his throat.
"Did you get banged up anywhere?"
"No. You broke my fall." She gave the strong line of that throat a little scrape with her teeth. "Such a hero."
"Yeah. You bet."
"I rushed you. I hope you don't mind."
"It's a little hard to complain just at the moment." He found the energy to roll over, dragging her with him so she was cushioned against him. "But I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to show off my style and finesse."
She lifted her head, shook her hair back, and just grinned down at him.
"What?"
"I was just thinking how much I like your style. Every time I caught a glimpse of you tonight during the party, I just wanted to lick my lips. Big, handsome Sheriff Todd standing around in a suit he wished he didn't have to wear, nursing one lonely beer all evening so he could drive people home safe, and watching me with those patient green eyes until I was so turned on I'd have to go back to the kitchen just to calm down again."
"Is that right?" He ran his hands down her arms, amused when he hit the cuffs of her shirt. Carefully he began to unbutton them. "Do you know what I was thinking when I was watching you?"
"Not exactly."
"I was thinking how you looked like a dancer, all grace and competence. And I tried not to think what you might have on under that starched white shirt and sexy little vest."
Once he'd freed her wrists, he ran his hands back up her arms. "You've got such a fine, streamlined shape to you, Nell. It's been driving me crazy for weeks."
"I don't know how to explain how it makes me feel to know that. To feel steady enough to want that." She threw her head back, her arms up. "Oh, God! I feel so alive. I don't want it ever to stop."
She leaned down again, kissed him hard, then scrambled to her feet. "I want that champagne. I want to get drunk and make love with you all night."
"I can get behind that idea." He sat up, then his eyes widened as she pulled open the door. "What" re you doing?"
"Getting the champagne out of the car."
"Let me get my pants on, and I'll get it. Nell!" Stupefied, he sprang to his feet as she raced outside, naked as a jaybird. "Well, for God's sake!" He grabbed his pants, carrying them with him to the doorway. "Get back in here before I have to haul you in for indecent exposure."
Books by Nora Roberts Page 159