“Oh,” Serena murmured, biting her lip at the stab of jealousy that seemed to dig at her like a knife.
“Don’t ‘oh’ me, Serena!” Susan laughed. “You may be claiming loyalty to Marc, but I can read between the lines. And nothing happened. The man has no interest in me except a friendly one! And what a pity that is! I wouldn’t be wishy-washy in return, and that’s a fact!”
“Susan,” Serena protested, “that’s part of my point. I don’t trust a man like Justin O’Neill. He’s … he’s too physical. Part of his interest could just be … well, the challenge of the thing. I mean, he has to know his build is … dynamite, I guess. And you don’t get a build like that without working at it, and to work at it that strenuously, it must have a lot to do with a monumental ego—”
“Un-unh,” Susan corrected, perching on the side of the desk. “I can tell you exactly why he looks like Schwarzenegger from the neck down.”
“Oh?”
“There goes that ‘oh’ again!” Susan chuckled cheerfully. “See, if you took the time to get to know the man, you might take that snooty little nose out of the air.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really!”
Serena waited for Susan to go on, then realized her friend was purposely baiting her. She laughed. “Okay, Susan, why the body-build?”
“Polio.”
“Polio?” Serena repeated with an incredulous frown.
“Yep, he was half-crippled as a child, and the doctors told his parents that the future was up to him. He had to learn to work on his muscles—and he’s grateful now for his health. Says he never takes health or the body for granted.” Susan paused for a minute. “He is one great person, Serena. They don’t come in that mold often. A sharp-as-a-whip Goliath.”
Serena reflected silently for a second, chewing the stub of her pen. Sue was right; they didn’t come in that mold often.
So if they came and left, they left devastation. It had taken her what seemed like forever to mourn her husband; she had slowly and solidly built the respect that she and Marc shared.
Did she dare take a chance?
She rubbed her temple with her fingers. “We’re back to the same issue, Susan. What about Marc? What do I say? ‘Gee, Marc, would you mind waiting around for a while so I can see if I can make it with Dr. O’Neill, the brilliant jock who just kind of swept in?’”
“Serena! I’m surprised at you!” Susan chastised. “You have to make up your mind about Marc for what the two of you have—not for what you might or might not be able to exchange it for!”
Serena sighed. “You’re right, Sue. I … I just don’t know. I feel so terrible.”
“That’s not the way to look at it either!” Susan warned. “You can’t keep dating Marc and leading him on to believe you might love him one day just so that you don’t hurt him! The deceit would be far worse in the end, especially since it’s obvious you’re as drawn to O’Neill as he is to you.”
Serena sniffed a little bitterly. “You make it sound so logical and easy.”
“That’s because I’m giving the advice. Now if it were for myself, I’d just cook up a few good potions for both of them! And a few appropriate spells could be chanted. One to get rid of a man, and one to hook a husband.”
Serena decided to forget her bookkeeping for the day. She shuffled her papers together and stood with a wan smile for Susan. “Thanks, kid, but that’s another thing that makes me a bit nervous. Doctor Hulk doesn’t believe in marriage.”
“Ahh … but, we’ll hit him with magic!”
“He doesn’t believe in magic, either!” Serena laughed dryly. “Oh, I don’t know, Susan! I just don’t know.”
But I guess I have to figure something out soon, she added silently to herself. Her week was almost up.
Maybe I should take up yoga or meditation, she thought as she unsuccessfully attempted to fit her house key into the lock. She dropped the key and bent to retrieve it, then smiled awkwardly as Mr. Donnesy, sprightly and charming as his wife, opened the door for her.
“Thought it would be you at this time, Serena.” He smiled, his gray eyes bright behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “You certainly have been all thumbs lately, missy.”
Serena smiled weakly. “Thanks, Mr. Donnesy. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Not at all,” he said, chuckling, “and I’ll show you why!”
He slipped an arm through hers and led her into the parlor, where his wife and the Bakers were deeply involved in the board game Risk. Mr. Donnesy patted his wife’s shoulder affectionately, and she absently clutched his hand.
“I don’t know about Mildred,” Mr. Donnesy said with a sigh and a shake of his head. “Sweet woman till you hand her a pair of dice. It’s like opening Pandora’s box.” His voice lowered in disbelieving complaint. “I had all of North America. My armies were in Australia, and it almost looked as if I had Europe in the bag. Then she comes along like the wrath of God!”
“There, there, dear,” Mildred Donnesy soothed, glancing up from the board to give Serena a radiant smile. “Poor man was suffering from delusions of grandeur. I had to take him down a peg.”
“Ouch!” Pierce Baker suddenly murmured. “You think you’re having problems! Mildred just snuffed me out of Asia!”
Serena laughed and started to excuse herself, then decided she might as well prepare herself for the evening. “Who’s here tonight, Mr. Donnesy? Did Marc ever come back after he left this morning?” Unintentionally she lowered her eyes. “And what about Dr. O’Neill?”
“The gang’s all here,” Mildred Donnesy said, shaking the dice within their little container. “Ahhhh-ha! Double sixes! That wipes you out, Pierce.”
“Heaven forbid!” Pierce groaned. “The world is in the hands of two fanatical females!”
Pierce Baker was as plump as a Santa Claus, while Giles Donnesy was slender as a string bean. The two men together were an absurdly distinguished Laurel and Hardy. Shaking his head in the bewilderment that only recently plagued Giles, Pierce left the table.
“A delightful man, that New York professor!” he told Serena with a wink. “Giles and I spent the afternoon with him, studying transcripts of the witchcraft trials. The things he pointed out I’ve never even thought of before! Brilliant, really brilliant.”
Brilliant, Serena thought with dry bitterness. Brilliant, just brilliant. It would be so nice if someone, just one person, would decide that Justin O’Neill was an obnoxious bore.
Serena smiled. “Where is everyone else now?”
Pierce shrugged. “That young man of yours has been prowling around the hidden staircase all day. Justin is probably still swimming.”
“Down at the pond,” Giles supplied.
Damn him! Serena thought. Not only had he been making her a wreck all week, he was destroying her greatest pleasure of the summer. Instinct had warned her to stay away from the pond, and instinct had been proven right. She had learned from Martha that O’Neill swam daily.
Was he waiting for her to reappear? she wondered with a shiver suddenly raking down her spine. If he were, he had a long wait.
“Good luck ruling the world, ladies!” she said to Mildred and Gayle, adding to their husbands, “Thanks, guys,” before leaving them to their pursuits.
The men gave her cheerful waves and moved back to the table to cheer on their wives. As she had so often done in the days since its arrival, Serena paused in the hallway to stare at the picture above the mantel. Eleanora Hawk stared back with her same sad smile.
Serena hurried into the kitchen, frowning as she saw that Martha was not busy preparing dinner. “Martha?”
The screen door to the yard suddenly breezed open as Martha bustled in, smiling as she saw Serena. “Hello, dear, nice day?”
Serena shrugged, “The usual, Martha.” She hesitated for a second. “Are we eating late tonight? What would you like me to do?”
“Not a thing, dear. We’re all set. We’ll be eating shortly, just as soon as Justin get
s back from his swim.”
“Oh.” The tone of Serena’s voice sounded her confusion.
“A barbecue, dear!” Martha laughed. “Salad’s in the fridge, and the corn has been grilling a half hour. I mentioned this morning what a lovely idea it would be, and of course the Donnesys and Bakers were all for it. Justin offered to act as chef, and,” she added a bit acidly, “Marc offered to help. Since he’s been consuming Golden Hawk food all week, I certainly thought it fitting for him to cook!”
“I think I’ll have a cold beer,” Serena murmured.
Oh, boy, a barbecue, she thought, feeling a headache coming on. She kept her smile up as she sailed across the room to duck into the refrigerator and rummage through its varied contents. The screen door opened again as she balanced on the balls of her feet. Grabbing a lite, she glanced up.
It was Justin, clad in cutoffs and sandals only, his hair wet and slicked back from his forehead, a towel slung around his neck.
He glanced down just as she glanced up.
Serena stared at him blankly for a second, her mind and heart racing. He looked much as he had that first day at the pond—broad, tanned chest sleek with moisture, suddenly towering over her from out of nowhere.
She stood quickly, disliking the disadvantage of her position.
“Good evening, Dr. O’Neill,” she murmured coolly.
He inclined his head with a lifted brow. “Good evening, Mrs. Loren.” He glanced from her to Martha. “I’ll start the steaks now, if you wish, Martha.”
“Wonderful,” Martha replied. “Serena, the meat is there, under the wax paper. Bring it outside for Justin, will you please? I’ll go see how the fate of the world is going and let them all know dinner is about ready.”
Justin disappeared out the screen door and Martha swung her way out to the main part of the house. Gritting her teeth, Serena followed Justin with the meat.
She dropped the steaks on the portable wrought iron counter by the grill. “Can I get you anything else, Dr. O’Neill?”
“No,” he replied, his gaze long and assessing. “But you can keep me company.”
“I … uh …”
“Yes?”
Serena shrugged and stood silently near him.
The steaks sizzled as they hit the grill. “I’ve missed you at the pond,” Justin said casually.
“I’ve missed the pond,” she replied, her reproach for his intrusion of her privacy evident. “I thought you jogged,” she added ungraciously. “Isn’t that sufficient for your daily exercise?”
He glanced at her with narrowed eyes. “Is it just me, Serena, or do you hold all runners with equal contempt.”
She hesitated a second, lowering her eyes. Then she raised them again. “Nothing personal, Dr. O’Neill. I’m not crazy about jogging. My husband had a heart attack and dropped dead while jogging.”
His eyes didn’t lower from hers. “I’m sorry, Serena,” he said quietly.
She blinked and her eyes slipped past him to stare unseeingly at the forest which surrounded the inn. For a moment she had felt a strange catch in her heart, not for the husband she had lost, but for the man who had been costing her sleep by his very existence.
When he had spoken to her, she had felt that tug of familiarity, that lightness, about being near him.
I do love him, she thought. I love the way he moves. I love his mind. I love the quirk in his brows, that fathomless storm that can darken his eyes. I don’t know him, but I do know him. I know his moods, I know his needs, I know his love. …
“Serena! There you are!”
Marc bounded from the house, notepad and pen in hand. He rushed to Serena, gripped her shoulders, and brushed her lips with a hasty kiss. “Darling, just wait till I spring today’s surprise on you!”
“I can hardly,” Serena murmured, uncomfortable with the awareness that Justin was watching her. She pulled from Marc’s hold subtly and smiled so there would be no repulse to her action. “What is it?”
“Oh, I can’t show you now! But I will in just a few days.” He fell silent as if he realized suddenly that they weren’t alone. “You’ll enjoy my discovery, too, O’Neill. It was a real find.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Justin said politely, and Serena noticed that he watched Marc not with jealousy, but with a patient tolerance.
“Listen,” Marc continued apologetically, “I know I offered to help with the barbecue, but I really need to get into Boston. Would you mind if I copped out, Justin?”
“No problem,” Justin replied evenly.
Marc rubbed his chin with a grimace and turned his attention back to Serena. “God, honey, I’m sorry, I just realized this is Friday night. I should be taking you someplace.”
Serena felt her breath coming short. The pain of her deception and hypocrisy was suddenly staggering. “It’s all right, Marc,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. He had been in such a whirl all week he had never noticed she had been avoiding him too. “I have to open the museum tomorrow anyway. You know how I need my sleep.”
“Serena, you’re a gem,” Marc said, stepping forward to quickly kiss her brow. He started to walk across the lawn, then suddenly turned back. “Hey, Justin! Thanks again for all the copies of the trial transcripts! I never knew they had so much on the Hawks in them!”
Justin didn’t reply; he waved his answer. Serena waited until Marc rounded the whitewashed corner of the house to speak. “You’ve helped Marc with research?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I had to have it all myself, so I just made two copies of everything I had duplicated. Get the plates, will you? Everyone ordered rare.”
Serena turned and headed for the kitchen. She ducked inside and found Martha had left a large serving platter on the counter. Clutching it, she walked back out to the barbecue.
Justin glanced at her for a second, then began stabbing the meat to transfer it from flame to stoneware. “Well, ‘gem,’” he murmured, “I see you haven’t sat down with Marc for an honest conversation yet.”
Serena drew in a breath. His eyes found hers again. “You can’t run forever, you know.”
She clasped her hands to still her trembling fingers. “You know,” she repeated in the same blasé tone, “if it weren’t for Tom, Dr. O’Neill, I wouldn’t even need to talk. I would ask you to take your patronage elsewhere.”
“Tom?” his brows lifted high. “Another poor dangling sap, Mrs. Loren?”
She smiled vaguely, remembering that he had no idea of who Tom might be. His voice had sounded gruff, which gave her a little thrill of pleasure. Inexperienced, was she? she thought with a laugh. He had been so damned certain of her—it was fun for a moment to allow him to think he just might have been wrong. …
His fingers suddenly clutched her upper arm, and in that simple gesture she saw the pulse and bulge of a dozen tight muscles across his chest.
Then she saw the piercing demand in his eyes, and triumph fled away as she heard herself explaining. “My brother, Justin. Tom Hawk. He owns half of the inn. And,” she added bitterly, “although he leaves the management to me, he loves it dearly. And I doubt that he’d appreciate me kicking you out. Therefore I have tolerated your presence.”
She panicked for a brief moment, holding her breath, her eyes widening. She felt a bit like a canary in a gilded cage, chirping away in a cat’s claw. She had seen him angry, but never furious, and it occurred to her belatedly that in a full-fledged temper he would be terrible to see.
But she began inhaling air again as she saw that her remark hadn’t made him angry. To the contrary, he laughed and his whisper brushed her ear. “Mrs. Loren, when are you going to stop lying to yourself?”
She didn’t reply. She heard the chattering of Martha and the inn’s other guests as the screen door slammed behind them and they all moved out to the lawn. Justin’s eyes rose from hers and focused on the group coming up from behind her. “Rare as ordered,” he called cheerfully.
Serena ran back into the kitchen for the beer she
had never had a chance to drink.
To her surprise she enjoyed the evening. The seven of them sat about the wooden picnic table, and conversation never flagged. Serena learned that Justin O’Neill was a man with widespread and diverse interests. He listened to the Donnesys’ and Bakers’ tales of travel and laughingly contributed a few of his own. He loved museums of any kind, she discovered, just as he loved activity, and if something were brought up about which he knew little, he readily admitted it and listened.
It was a long and leisurely dinner, with Serena the only silent one at the table.
When at long last the coals were quenched and the plates collected, the older couples yawned and said their good nights. But as Giles Donnesy reached the screen door, he paused to turn back to Justin. “I’ll work up those notes for you tomorrow morning, young man! Don’t you worry!”
“Thanks, Mr. Donnesy!” Justin replied smoothly. “I appreciate it.”
Serena glared at Justin but said nothing until Martha had followed the Donnesys inside.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “Making that nice old man spend his summer vacation reading books for you! You have no right to expect that of anyone, Doctor, especially since you are supposed to be so damned brilliant in your field!”
She should have instantly realized the answer when it came to her with his contemptuous stare.
Oh, Lord, she thought, he didn’t need help from anyone. He probably had a mind like a damned computer. All he had done was made her older guests feel wonderful. He had made them feel respected and needed, and he had given them the glory of knowing that their own minds were as bright and beautiful as when their bodies were young.
Serena clutched the garbage she had been collecting tightly in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, and then, before she could burst into tears of misery and confusion, she fled into the house.
In her room she took two aspirin, and then took two more. She drew a very hot bath and plunged into it, praying that the mist above the water could make the rough edges of her whirling mind begin to blur.
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