He walked toward the shoreline and dove into the water, wishing to God it was colder. He groaned as he looked back and watched Emily step tentatively out of her capris, then slowly peel off her T-shirt. She wore a bright pink one-piece suit cut high on the sides, which made her already long legs look endless. Because he was only human, he scanned upward from her legs to her narrow waist, then higher still to her breasts, breasts that would fit a man’s hands perfectly.
His hands, he thought.
He reminded himself he needed to keep his hands off, not on her, then dove under the water and shook his head before he broke for the surface again.
But not even the cool water and the damp, salty air could erase the taste of her in his mouth or the feel of her body against his. He’d made a mistake, he knew, and he’d pay for it.
He glanced her way, watched her step carefully into the water, then hug her arms in front of her, completely unaware that her breasts nearly spilled out from the top of her bathing suit.
With a groan, he ducked back under the water and began counting to ten.
He might be able to keep her out of his life, he thought, but he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to keep her out of his mind.
“Em, are you sure you don’t want me to come up with you? Just for a few minutes? I could fix dinner for you. I won’t even stay if you don’t want me to. Maybe show you around?”
“Claudia, I’m fine.” Emily sat in the front seat of her sister’s sedan and stared at the Brookline brown-stone apartment house they’d parked in front of. The paint on the white shuttered windows was fresh and glossy, the small front flower garden well kept. A wrought-iron gate opened to a brick walkway, which led to the front entrance. Historic lampposts and tall maples lined the street.
A beautiful neighborhood, Emily thought.
And despite the fact that she’d lived here for the past three years, it wasn’t remotely familiar.
“I’m coming up,” Claudia said when Emily continued to stare at the apartment building. “This is your first time back. You might remember something and I could—”
“No.” Emily shook her head. “I have to do this by myself. It’s difficult to explain, but I need to be alone for a little while.”
It had taken Emily four days to convince her mother and father that she needed to do this. She understood it was their love for her that made her family so protective, but in spite of all their concern and care, they were still like strangers to her. The strain of pretending to be all right on the outside, when on the inside she was still frightened and confused, had become too much.
“How ’bout I just walk with you up to your door?” Claudia said.
“No.”
“Carry your suitcase?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I could—”
“Claudia.”
“All right.” Claudia sighed. “Jeez. You never used to be this stubborn. This is going to take some getting used to.”
“That goes for two of us.” Smiling, Emily reached across and gave her sister a hug. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.”
“You promised to call Mom in an hour.”
“I will.”
“You’ve got Mom and me on your speed dial. Daniel and Dad drove your car over last night and it’s parked in the back lot.” Claudia dug in her purse and pulled out a set of keys. “It’s a blue Camry. Your keys were lost in the fire, along with everything else in your purse, but you’ve got credit cards and cash and more checks in the top drawer of your desk. Mom called the DMV and she’s also ordered groceries to be delivered in about an hour. If you need anything, or if you remember something, or if you just need to—”
“Stop.” Palm out, Emily held up her hand. “I’m getting out now, Claudia. Goodbye.”
Before Claudia could start again, Emily stepped out of the car, then grabbed her suitcase from the back seat and headed for the front door of the apartment building.
Emily’s mother had told her that the building had been split into six apartments, that hers was on the second floor, number four. She stood in the small lobby for a long moment, breathed in the scent of lemon wax and baking bread. The sound of someone practicing the cello drifted from the downstairs apartment in the rear. The place felt comfortable and homey, but it still didn’t feel familiar.
As she looked up to the second floor, her knees turned to mush and her heart started to pound. She suddenly wished someone was with her. Someone she felt she could lean on. Not Claudia or her mother or father.
Shane.
She’d thought of him all week, had smiled every time she recalled their sailing excursion. Every time she thought about the way he’d kissed her, the way he’d held her close in his arms, she’d felt flushed and tingly. She was certain she’d been kissed before, for heaven’s sake. But those memories were all gone now. For her, Shane’s kiss had been a first kiss. Exciting and wonderful and thrilling.
She’d thrown herself at him, she knew. Had actually asked him to kiss her. And then when he had, she’d wanted more.
He obviously hadn’t.
They’d swum and eaten lunch and sailed back to the marina, then he’d taken her home. He’d politely walked her to her front door, told her to take care, then he’d left. He hadn’t kissed her good-night, hadn’t told her he’d call.
She didn’t blame him. Though she didn’t think she was unattractive, she certainly wasn’t a femme fatale, either. Shane obviously preferred a different type of woman from herself. Like, maybe one who could remember her own name?
A phone rang from one of the downstairs apartments and pulled her wandering mind back to the task at hand. Emily took a deep breath, then moved up the carpeted staircase. She found her apartment in the front of the building and slid the key her mother had given her this morning into the lock. The door swung open.
She stepped inside.
And felt something.
She couldn’t say exactly what she felt, but it was something. As if she had been here before. The floors were polished oak, the walls off-white. The sofa in her living area was tan-and-white stripes, with green-and-burgundy floral and plaid pillows. Setting her suitcase down, she moved into the room and ran her fingers over the soft fabric of a plaid, forest-green easy chair, then glanced at the books on her coffee table: Famous Boston Gardens, New England Americana, The History of Clocks and Watches.
She moved to the bookshelves on the wall behind her. They were filled with mysteries and thrillers, classics, romances and contemporary women’s fiction, as well as nonfiction. Obviously, she liked to read.
She spent the next hour exploring. Her kitchen was bright and cheerful, with lots of cookbooks that appeared well used. Her bathroom was large, with a restored ball-and-claw bathtub beside an antique dresser that had been converted to a lavatory. She had a small guest room with a double bed and a writing desk. Her own bedroom had striped pink wallpaper and a queen-size four-poster bed with a floral comforter.
She opened her closet and the scent of lavender potpourri drifted out. Her taste was clearly conservative. Tailored suits and pants, lots of beige and navy and off-white. She was examining a tan linen suit when she heard the doorbell.
The groceries her mother had ordered.
But it wasn’t a delivery person, Emily realized as she opened the door. The woman standing there wasn’t holding a bag of food, but a bouquet of flowers. She was beautiful, with long, dark brown hair and big brown eyes. The pantsuit she wore was deep blue, with a tie at the side of her narrow-waisted jacket.
“Emily.” The woman’s smile dipped when there was no sign of recognition on Emily’s face. “It’s me. Maria. Your cousin.”
“Maria.” Emily remembered the pictures her mother had shown her of all eight of her cousins. Close in age to Emily, Maria was her Uncle Carlo and Aunt Moira’s youngest. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, please come in.”
“So it’s really true, then?” Maria handed the bouquet to Emily. “You really don’t remember who you a
re?”
Emily forced a smile. “I’m afraid so.”
Maria stared at Emily for a long moment, then took her hand and pulled her into the kitchen and pointed to a chair. “Sit.”
Bewildered, Emily sat, then watched as Maria pulled a vase out from under the sink and filled it with water. After she arranged the flowers, she went to another cupboard, brought out a bottle of Chianti, a corkscrew from a drawer, then two glasses.
“You’ve been here before,” Emily said when Maria uncorked the bottle.
“Many times.” Maria filled the wineglasses, then handed one to Emily. “Salute.”
They touched glasses and sipped. The rich taste exploded in Emily’s mouth. “So I do like wine.”
Laughing, Maria sat at the table. “Of course you like wine. You’re Italian. It’s a law.”
“My mother never offered me any these past several days, so I assumed I didn’t drink.”
“Well, you’re not exactly a lush,” Maria said with a smile. “But we’ve shared a bottle on occasion. Girls night out, parties, family dinners.”
Emily took another sip of the wine, felt the warmth quickly spreading through her. Other than when she’d been with Shane, sitting at this kitchen table with Maria was the most relaxed she’d felt with another person in days. It wasn’t as if she was remembering anything; she just felt…comfortable.
“Maria—” Emily looked at her cousin “—I know I’ll be meeting everyone at the reunion next month, but maybe you can tell me something now about our family.”
“We could be here for days,” Maria said with a grin, “but you were especially close to Alex. He’s a pilot with the Navy and the Blue Angels. Maybe when you see him, something will click for you.”
“I certainly hope so,” Emily said with a sigh. “My mother has shown me pictures, told me a few stories, but I feel as if she’s keeping some things from me.”
“Ah.” Swirling the wine in her glass, Maria sat back. “The skeletons in the closet.”
Emily nodded. “I overheard my mother and father talking about some problems with the family business, but when I asked them about it, they told me not to worry, that everything is fine. I know it’s because they’re concerned about me and trying to protect me, but I’d appreciate if you’d tell me the truth.”
“You want the most recent scandal, or the old stuff?”
“Let’s start with the recent,” Emily said. “Then work our way back.”
“Well, for starters, someone spiked the new gelato flavor we brought out last February with hot peppers. You can imagine the chaos that created.”
“Hot pepper gelato?” Emily shuddered at the thought. “Who would do such a thing?”
“That’s the burning question.” Maria sat back with a sigh. “A rival company, a disgruntled employee, a crazy. Lord knows there are plenty of those around. Then there are the accusations of links to the Mafia, which are absurd, but people eat up those kinds of headlines like candy.”
Emily took another sip of wine. It appeared that the Barone family did have a lot to deal with.
“Let’s see…” Maria tapped a finger to her chin. “Oh, yeah. There’s the tabloid pictures of my sister Gina half-naked with Flint Kingman, Baronessa’s PR consultant. My father is still fuming over that, even though they’re married now.”
Emily lifted a brow at that little piece of information. She was looking forward to meeting all her cousins, though, with eight of them, maybe not all at once.
“And now the fire,” Emily said carefully.
Maria paused, then reached across the table to touch Emily’s arm. “Em, the fire was an accident. There’s been no proof of arson.”
“Shane told me it’s still under investigation.”
“Shane?”
“The fireman who saved me.”
“Oh, yes.” Smiling, Maria put her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “There have been rumors.”
Emily looked up sharply. “Rumors? What kind of rumors?”
“The good kind.” Maria ran her index finger over the rim of her glass. “That he’s one sexy hunk and when he looks at you, there’s enough heat to start a major blaze.”
Emily gasped. “Where did you hear such a thing?”
“The Barone family has spies everywhere,” Maria said quietly. She glanced away for a moment, lost in her own thoughts, then turned back to Emily and smiled again. “Evelyn Van Der Weilen is in your mother’s bridge club. She was at your house last Sunday when your fireman came in to take you sailing. Evelyn’s daughter Lucy is friends with Gina, my sister, your cousin.”
It made Emily’s head spin. All the names. Whose belonged to whom? It was like living in a small town, only here, everyone knew more about her than she did herself. “I’m sorry to disappoint Evelyn and Lucy, but Shane and I are just friends. I think he feels a responsibility toward me, but that’s it.”
“And what do you feel toward him?” Maria asked.
“I—” Emily hesitated, not sure what she should say. She hadn’t told anyone her feelings for Shane. Especially since he didn’t return them. “I guess I like him.”
Maria winced. “You like him?”
“I like him.” She glanced down. “A lot.”
There. She’d said it.
“Now we’re getting somewhere. Come on, Em. Give me something here. Has he kissed you? Oh, so he has,” Maria said when Emily’s cheeks flushed red. “And how was it?”
“It was…it was amazing.” There it was again, that same tingle she got every time she thought about Shane’s kiss. She shook the feeling off and closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. He hasn’t called, didn’t even tell me he would. I don’t expect I’ll ever see him again. Unless…”
No. She couldn’t do that.
“Unless what?” Maria asked.
She couldn’t do that, Emily told herself. She’d only be embarrassing herself more if she did.
She chewed on her bottom lip. But which was worse? Making a fool of herself, or always wondering what could have been? She already had enough in her life to wonder about—her entire past, for starters. She didn’t want to add any what-ifs to that daunting list. From what everyone had told her, and the way everyone treated her, Emily thought, she’d never been much of a take-charge person.
She had no one to blame for that but herself. Maybe she needed to start her new life by letting go of her fears. By being confident. Making decisions.
And if she wanted to start a new life, she thought she needed a new look, as well.
Emily took another sip of wine, then sat straight. “Maria, do you think you could spare some time tomorrow? I have a project I could use your assistance with.”
“Of course. I’ll find someone to cover for me at work.” Maria cocked her head and lifted a brow. “You want to tell me?”
“Tomorrow,” Emily said firmly. “Tonight I’d like to hear more about our family’s deep, dark secrets.”
“Why don’t we order a pizza? You like mushroom and bell pepper, by the way. At least, you used to.” Maria was already reaching for the kitchen wall phone. “I’m a pepperoni gal, myself.”
Maria ordered the pizza, then hooked an arm through Emily’s and pulled her toward the living room. “We need to get comfortable, cousin. This is going to take a while.”
Six
He hated tuxedos.
They were stiff, too tight in the collar, and he could never get the bow tie right. He’d rather jump out of a burning second-story window, in full gear, with no net, than put one of these monkey suits on.
If it wasn’t for charity, Shane thought, he’d be ten miles out of the marina at this very moment. On his way to Wilson Island, or maybe taking a run up to Cape Ann. Or maybe he would have headed out to open sea. He rarely had a plan when he went out, preferring instead to let the wind and his gut decide.
Stretching his neck, he glanced around the crowded ballroom of the Boston Marriott Long Wharf. A ten-piece band played a mix of fifties and sixtie
s music, and the dance floor was crowded with wealthy businessmen and women—women outnumbering the men at least two to one.
Single women.
The Women’s League sponsored tonight’s festivities, a fund-raiser for the children’s ward at Brookline Hospital. The annual auction had become a very popular event, and every year it seemed as though the attendance, and the bids, increased.
Shane would feel much more enthusiastic about the affair if he wasn’t one of the auction items.
Twenty firefighters from four different stations in the Boston area were up for bid tonight, selected by a vote from the entire crew. Shane figured it was pay-back for his bad cooking that he’d been voted in.
Dressed in a tuxedo, Captain Griffin came up from behind. Shane thought the man looked like a penguin wearing a red bow tie.
“Cummings.”
“Captain.”
“I expect to see some animation from you tonight,” the captain said. “Last year Division 15 beat us out by two thousand dollars.”
“They beat us out because they took half their clothes off and swaggered across the stage like a bunch of idiots.”
“Whatever it takes.” Griffin snagged a stuffed mushroom as a white-gloved waiter carrying a silver tray of hors d’oeuvres passed by. “We’re going to bring in the biggest donation tonight, or someone will be on double kitchen duty his next two shifts.”
Great. Win or lose, he’d be taking extra heat.
“Have a good time, son.” Smiling, the captain slapped a hand on Shane’s shoulder, then headed for Sam Greenbury, another one of the four victims from Shane’s crew. Sam was out of the academy only four months and brand-new to the station, so the poor bastard didn’t know what he was in for.
He’d be finding out soon enough, Shane thought with a sigh. He could see the mistress of ceremonies, Doris Finwater, making her way to the podium, a sign that the auction was about to begin. Dressed in silver sequins that matched the color of her hair, Doris adjusted the height of the microphone to suit her stout, five-foot-four-inch height.
Where There's Smoke... Page 6