Legendary Lover

by Roszel, Renee

  Tess’s head shot up to see Cord opening the patio door for her. “Uh, no.” Feeling dishevelled and half naked, she brushed by him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Thanks. Uh … I thought you’d gone to bed.”

  “Mary and I were talking. When I saw you coming, I thought you might need a hand with this door. It sticks.”

  “I know it sticks,” she retorted, ill at ease being so near to him. “I’m the one who told you it sticks.”

  “Right. I’d forgotten.” He eyed her searchingly, and she armed herself for another bout of frustration.

  The pause was awkward.

  Her hungry eyes devoured him against her will, noting the way the dim light fell on the craggy angles and planes of his face. Her heart began to thud with alarm over her unwise attraction to him. Needing to get away quickly, she shot him a terse, “Well, good ni—”

  “Was that Champ sighting illuminating for you?” he said, interrupting her.

  She peered sideways at him. “Don’t gloat.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You loved it,” she threw back. “I saw you smile.”

  “It was kind of funny,” he told her honestly. “But you’re wrong, you know. Discovering a Champ-type creature would be an unequaled thrill—it’s just not very likely.”

  “I think this is where I came in.” She avoided his eyes as she moved past him. “I’m going to bed.”

  She breezed away from him, heading toward the hallway that led to the kitchen. He said nothing to halt her; didn’t call her back and she heard no footsteps to indicate that he was following. There was no reason for him to do any of those things, she knew. But loving him the way she did made it very hard to walk away. Thwarted, heartsick and feeling lost, she cast her gaze down at the wood-planked floor.

  Unaccountably her footsteps slowed until she was no longer moving. Then, surprising her as much as anything she’d ever done, she turned back to face him, her stance shy and reluctant.

  He was still where she’d left him, though he’d half turned away. When he heard her turn, he shifted his gaze.

  His glance briefly touched her body, stealing her breath, before settling on her face. Emotions she couldn’t interpret played across his clean features. His mouth was turned down at the corners as he frowned, and there was an endearing perplexity in his eyes as he waited for her to speak her piece.

  She swallowed. Clasping her hands together tightly, she blurted out, “Nolan and I won’t be seeing each other anymore. We’ve decided not to get married.” Though she hated to talk about something so personal, she felt compelled to do so. After all, Cord had been the one to point out a very important flaw in her relationship with Nolan. He had been right, and she thought he deserved to be told, even if she had to endure an I-told-you-so smirk.

  Deep down, she had another reason for telling him, a dear but farfetched dream. Maybe—just maybe—Cord would be glad about it. Maybe he’d run to her, swing her up into his arms and tell her that was what he’d been hoping to hear—that he loved her, wanted her to marry him. Unable to breathe, she waited for his reaction.

  Cord’s eyes had narrowed assessingly. He stared at her for a long moment before finally shaking his head with regret. “Hell,” he rasped, dragging a hand through his hair.

  Tess watched him, stung with disbelief. She hadn’t expected anger. Feeling suddenly sick, she hugged herself.

  “I was an ass to interfere,” he growled, making her jump. “I should have kept out of your business. I’m sorry.”

  His eyes were vivid, ironically beautiful, glistening with self-loathing. That unhappy look hurt Tess more than any words could have.

  He was sorry! Sorry that it had been his “interference” that had been her sole cause for ending her affair with Nolan. Cord’s lovemaking had made her realize she couldn’t marry another man as long as Cord could take her in his arms and make her feel so alive, so complete. And now that he’d ruined her for any other man, he was sorry?

  Her insides contracted in shame and fury. Trying to salvage a thread of her pride, she threw a glare at him and snapped, “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I couldn’t have loved Nolan if I was so easily side-tracked by you!”

  She knew her remark was mean-spirited, but she was too torn apart to guard her tongue. The man she loved—had always loved—was sorry she wasn’t marrying someone else! She swallowed down the nausea swimming in her throat.

  Hurt flamed in his eyes, but she forced herself to be invulnerable to that look.

  The shrill ringing of the office phone broke the sharp silence like a bullet splintering glass. Her body was so stabbed through with tension that she had to stifle an urge to scream.

  She mumbled something unintelligible and rushed behind the counter to answer the wall phone. When she lifted the receiver, her hand shook, and she fumbled with it for several seconds before she could get it to her ear. “Lost Cove Inn.” Her voice sounded small, her words faltering. “May I … help you?”

  The German-accented voice on the other end was indistinct beneath static, but she could make out that the man wanted to speak to Cord. She turned to look at him. He was facing her, his feet slightly apart as he watched her, his features grave.

  Her heart thudded heavily beneath her weightless satin wrap, and she reached for the support of the registration desk as she said, “Just a moment, please.”

  She held the receiver toward him in a lethargic hand. “For you…”

  Feeling a strong sense of foreboding, she sagged against the reception desk as he crossed the distance to her.

  “Hello?”

  She felt the warmth of his body beside her and found it hard to breathe. Feeling awkward and weak, she brushed a wayward strand of hair away from her cheek.

  “Just an hour ago?” Cord asked quietly. “I’m honored, Hans. Tell Dr. Ellerby I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  When he’d hung up the receiver, Tess’s brows gathered in a dark storm. He was leaving, going somewhere very far away. She cringed at the thought. Reluctantly, she met his gaze.

  “You’re going away,” she breathed. It wasn’t a question.

  He nodded and her heart crashed to the leather soles of her slippers. All the anger and resentment drained out of her and she sagged with defeat. Cord was walking out of her life again. This time it was forever. Deep down, she had known this moment would come, but now that it was here, she was devastated.

  “That was my partner. There’s been a stranding of a megamouth shark on the coast of Australia. It’s a new species, first discovered in 1976. There’ve only been fifty specimens found to date.” He finished solemnly, “It’s alive. The chance to observe one is a rare privilege.”

  “Will you be back?”

  “I doubt it,” he said, his mouth thinning. “I need to get to Grande Comore and relieve Hans.” His somber expression said far more than his words. He was telling her goodbye, that it was for the best that he exit her life cleanly and quickly—like the surgical severing of a body part.

  The pain his quiet words had inflicted made him blur before her, and she averted her gaze so that he couldn’t see the telltale glisten in her eyes. “I see,” she murmured. “Well, good luck with your life….”

  “Thank you, Tessa Jane.”

  Surreptitiously wiping her eyes, she turned back to look at him.

  Knitting his brows, he said, “I’d better go pack.”

  As a cover for her growing despair, she adopted a lofty tone. “In the morning, I’ll tell Mary where you’ve gone.”

  “No need. I’ll drop by her room before I leave.” He looked ill at ease. “Would you mind calling a taxi?”

  Tess nodded listlessly.

  He could see the forlorn look in her features, the awful vulnerability. Her perfume drifted around him, a delicate fragrance reminiscent of lily of the valley, reminiscent, too, of the loving they’d shared. Her striking ebony hair made a dark frame around her exotic face, and her green eyes swam with bright sadness. She was be
autiful. Inside and out. Beautiful enough for any man—leggy blondes be damned. But there was no room in his life for a woman, not a permanent one, anyway. Somehow, right now, that seemed like a damned shame.

  He hadn’t meant to touch her, but his hands seemed to take on a life of their own, reaching out to caress her fevered cheeks. “Take care of yourself, Tessa Jane,” he whispered. His fingertips lingered for a moment on her skin, and he stared at her wordlessly, considering saying more. Thinking better of it, he stepped back.

  Vowing not to reveal how much his touch unsettled her, she lifted her chin. “Goodbye, Cord.”

  He watched her for a moment, and then, without another word, he turned away.

  He didn’t even say goodbye, Tess thought, twisting around to lean heavily on the polished reception desk. When she’d gathered the strength to look up, she could do nothing but stare helplessly as the tall, self-possessed man she loved walked out of her life.

  EIGHT DAYS AFTER Cord’s abrupt departure, two important events occurred. First, Tess’s aunt Jewel pulled her aside and told her that she and Quillan were planning to be married. The second bit of news was equally dramatic, but less welcome. Tess had opened her latest issue of the Smithsonian magazine and had seen, to her dismay, picture after picture of Cord Redigo and his bearded German partner, Hans Gruber, involved in capturing and stabilizing the two live coelacanths Cord had brought to New York earlier that month.

  His crooked smile tormented her from the glossy pages. There were pictures of Cord, naked to the waist, his sun-bronzed torso glistening with sea spray. There were spectacular color photos of Cord and Hans in their submersible. And Cord, his expression serious, yet looking vigorous and trim, was pictured as he oversaw the loading of the tank and its water cooling system aboard a U.S. Army transport plane.

  Tess flipped a page irritably and was forced to stare again into Cord’s face, fresh and smiling, as he arrived in New York; and finally, tall and elegant in a tuxedo, being greeted by New York’s scientific and political notables.

  She’d groaned, slammed the magazine shut and thrown it on her desk. “What was the story about, anyway—fish or Cord Redigo?” she snapped, stalking from her office. “The photographer had to have been a woman!”

  She’d been consumed by a gnawing restlessness since the night Cord had walked away. She despised herself for allowing him to rule her emotions even half a world away. She also hated herself for not being able to be appropriately delighted by Jewel and Quillan’s approaching wedding. Damn Cord, anyway!

  ON THE SECOND-WEEK anniversary of Cord’s absence, Tess and Mary gave a surprise engagement party for Jewel and Quillan. Quillan’s daughter, Myra Quimby-Park, Natalie’s mother, had come up from Burlington to attend. Tess liked the talkative redhead and threw herself into making a new friend. She’d introduced Myra, a single parent, to Nolan, who had also been invited to the party. Tess noticed with interest that they’d hit it off immediately. By the end of the party, it looked as if Nolan was a man whose broken heart was on the mend.

  Love seemed to be running rampant at Lost Cove Inn of late, Tess observed, though Cupid had dismal aim when it came to her. Nevertheless she was happy for Jewel and Quillan, and for what appeared to be brewing with Nolan and Myra.

  She looked at her watch. It was nearly two in the morning. The party had been over for an hour. The place had been cleaned and polished and all the help was gone. Though she was bone weary, Tess didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want to be bedeviled by her dreams.

  She decided to make a last swing around the inn to check things out before heading to her lonely bed. Glancing into her office, she saw the Smithsonian on her desk and hesitated only a minute before going and snatching it up.

  Tucking it under her arm, she headed into the kitchen, but before she started for the stairs, she stuffed the magazine into the trash compactor. With a vengeance, she switched on the machine then hurried toward the staircase muttering, “So much for Dr. Cord Redigo.”

  When she reached the first landing and the noisy machine had fallen quiet, she was clutched by a choking feeling of absolute misery. She could crush all the Smithsonian magazines in the world, and it wouldn’t change the simple fact that Cord had walked away. A cry welled up in her throat. Fleeing up the darkened stairway, she swiped away a preposterous tear.

  11

  The weather was rainy and foggy, making lake observation poor. It was the last day of June, and also the last day of the cryptozoologists’ stay at Lost Cove Inn. Tess was checking with Sugar to make sure everything was running smoothly in preparation for the farewell dinner, but her heart wasn’t in it.

  “Okay, that’s everything,” she said, and then added, “Have the kitchen help start setting the tables a little before six.”

  “Gotcha, boss.” Sugar saluted, and swiveled around to face the counter where she’d been snapping green beans. Humming off key, she returned to her own little world behind her earphones.

  Tess pushed through the kitchen door into the dining room and almost ran headlong into Mary. “Oh—” she exhaled her relief at avoiding a collision “—hello.”

  Mary stepped back and smoothed her short hair. It was an unnecessary, nervous gesture. “Hi, Tess.” She smiled shyly. She’d been giving Tess that same painful, apologetic look ever since that terrible morning she’d caught Tess in Cord’s bed.

  Tess stifled a sigh and tried to look unbothered. “How are you, Mary? Haven’t seen you much today.”

  The older woman shrugged. “Well, you know. Last day and all. Doing a lot of packing up.”

  Tess nodded, feeling a tinge of regret. She’d grown to like the cryptozoologists. She was truly sorry they’d be going away with nothing to show for their efforts.

  Mary seemed to sense Tess’s thoughts and assured her hurriedly, “Did I tell you about the erratic markings on the paper chart recorder, yesterday? And that last week we had odd shadows on our underwater film?”

  Tess shook her head, confused.

  “Well, we all agree that the markings merit further study. And with sophisticated enhancement, the film could be very revealing.”

  “Oh?” Tess smiled, feeling a little better. “I’m glad, Mary. Let me know, will you?”

  She put a friendly hand on Tess’s arm. “I will. Let’s do keep in touch.”

  Tess looked down, unable to speak. She didn’t think it would be wise to keep in touch with Cord’s cousin. But how did she tell Mary?

  “You really need to develop a poker face, kid. I can read every thought in that pretty, sad face.” Mary squeezed Tess’s arm. “Look, I love Cord, but I know he has gigantic faults. He’s a scoundrel where women are concerned. He works too hard for his own good, and he’s a little too crazy about fish for my taste. You’re lucky to be rid of him.”

  Tess forced a grin in spite of her mood. She offered quietly, “Sure. We’ll keep in touch, if you’d like.”

  Mary hiked a thin brow. “Okay. We won’t talk about him.” She patted Tess’s elbow. “Gotta go for now. Etta and Ella want me to help pick their music for tonight’s show.” She grimaced. “I hope they know a really fast version of the Minute Waltz.”

  Tess laughed. “If they do, it’s sure to be a polka.”

  “Oh, agony!” Mary rolled her eyes, then added, “Are you going to recite any poetry?”

  “Speaking of agony?” Tess kidded.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Mary countered, but her cheeks colored, giving away her true feelings about Tess’s marginal talents.

  Tess silently agreed, but said only, “Not tonight. It’s your party. I’m simply going to play innkeeper and stay out of the limelight.”

  “Oh, well…” Mary appeared uncharacteristically flustered. “Tess, it’s been a grand month, really.” She held out her hand. “We’ll surely come back next year, if it’s okay with you.”

  Accepting Mary’s hand, Tess said, “I’ll look forward to it.” But in her heart the idea of having her life drag on for another y
ear, unchanged, seemed a dismal sentence.

  Mary’s handshake was brief, and seconds later she was gone, leaving Tess alone. She cast a distracted gaze out the bank of arched windows that faced the lake. The sky was gray, growing even more gloomy with the approaching dusk.

  When three of the young kitchen helpers burst through the swinging door, giggling and chattering as they began to place cutlery, napkins and vases containing small bouquets of daisies on the long tables, Tess decided she needed to get away, to be alone.

  SHE FIDGETED on the rocky ledge for a solid hour before she decided she had to move. She wanted to run, but it was dark and there was no place to go. With the moon peeping timidly from behind low clouds, she headed down the steep wooden staircase toward the rocky shore, her footsteps sounding heavy and hollow to her ears. About ten feet from the bottom, she became engulfed in the somber fog that blanketed the lake’s surface.

  The setting was perfect for her mood. She strolled idly along the shoreline, wrapped in a cocoon of oblivion. From far away, she could hear the strains of an accordion-piano duet and realized the cryptozoologists’ party was in full swing.

  Listening intently for a moment, she recognized the tune as “Auld Lang Syne,” and shook her head. It was the most peppy version of the song she’d ever heard, or perhaps “crazed” was more appropriate. Her lips quirked in a reluctant grin.

  She kicked a stone and listened as it clattered across other rocks and then plunked into the deep cove several yards away. Turning, she faced the invisible lake and choked down a harsh breath. She jammed her hands into the deep pockets of her white, flared skirt, and allowed herself to succumb to her defeat.

  She was to blame for all her troubles. It had been she who had gone to him—given herself to him—on that hayride so long ago.

  It had been she who, once again, had initiated the lovemaking on the cabin cruiser, and it had also been she who had gone to his room that night—their only night together.

  She had always been the one flustered, out of sorts and off balance while he had remained cool, elegant and in control. That was certainly not the image of a man head over heels in love. She’d been an idiot to ever dream of such a thing.