Jonathan sighed. "She has a hearing aid, but she refuses to wear it. I've tried bribing, threatening and pleading. Nothing works."
Misty appeared in the doorway. "Read," she signed, handing Rhianna a book of fairy tales.
Jonathan took his daughter's hand and led her inside the room. "First we have to get your PJs on," he said, signing the letters PJ.
"No!" Misty tossed the two-piece pajama set on the floor and tried signing something to him. She let out a huff and made the same awkward signs.
Jonathan's mouth hardened. "I don't know what you want," he said, his hands resting at his side.
"She'd like the purple nightgown instead," Rhianna said softly. "The one that's hanging inside her…" She paused, looked at Misty and signed, "Closet?"
The girl nodded.
Minutes later, Misty was in her bed, snuggled up with a stuffed penguin. "Story?" she signed.
She surprised Rhianna by patting the bed.
"You want me to sit?" Rhianna asked.
"Yes."
"You seem to have made an impression," Jonathan said behind her.
She glanced at him. "Have I?"
There was a moment of silence.
"With Misty," he said softly.
She slowly blew out the breath she was holding. Lowering her head, she fumbled with the book, opening it to the first page. "I knew that's what you meant."
There was no reply.
Jonathan was gone.
Chapter 8
As Rhianna closed the door to Misty's room, she thought of how the young girl had tried to copy her as she signed the story. Misty was smart. No doubt about it. With a little encouragement, she could learn to sign more proficiently.
She thought of Jonathan. Where was his ex-wife? Had she remarried? Did she ever come to visit?
Does he still love her?
Shaking her head, she backed away from the door.
"Is she asleep?"
"Jesus!" she hissed, grabbing her throat. "Don't sneak up on me like that."
Jonathan emerged from a shadowed doorway and stepped into the dimly lit hall. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"You don't scare me."
"I don't?" His mouth curled into a lazy smile.
Rhianna frowned.
Why did everything the man say sound so evocative?
"I'll go say goodnight to Misty," Jonathan said.
"She fell asleep before I finished the fourth book."
"You should've gotten me."
"You could've stayed while I read to her."
"And have you work your magic spell on me too?"
She laughed. "What are you talking about?"
"I've never seen my daughter take to someone so fast. She wouldn't let the other teachers get one foot inside her room." He started down the stairs.
"I'm not a teacher," she said, right behind him. "She thinks I'm your…"
At the bottom of the stairs, he turned. "My what?"
"Friend," she said, swallowing hard. "I don't know. I'm just some stranger who showed up here."
"Yet there you were, a complete stranger, sitting beside her when usually she throws a temper tantrum." He shook his head. "Magic."
If she reached out she could touch his shoulders. But she kept her hands glued to her sides.
Look but don't touch.
Jonathan was doing his own observing. It was making her self-conscious. His eyes trailed over her, from the top of her head down to her bare feet. She held her breath as his gaze swept back up, pausing on her mouth.
She licked her lips.
Suddenly, Jonathan jerked his head toward the living room. "I think we both deserve a nightcap."
The spell broken, she moved down the last two steps and followed him to the bar. He poured two glasses of wine and handed her one.
"Thank you," she said, sitting on the sofa.
"No, thank you." He took a sip of wine before adding, "Misty's teachers said she was so far behind in signing that they couldn't waste time reading to her."
"I don't consider reading a waste of time."
"Those were their words, not mine." He studied her hands. "You sign beautifully."
"I'm a bit rusty," she admitted, "but it's kind of like riding a bike. Once you learn ASL, you never really forget."
"Unless you're me," he said sheepishly.
"Don't worry about whether your signing is perfect. It's all about communicating with someone you love." She blushed. "And I know you love your daughter."
"That I do. So teach me."
The wine was making her lightheaded. "Teach you?"
"To sign. I could use some lessons."
"I don't know if you'll make a very good student," she blurted.
His eyes narrowed. "I don't know if you'll make a good teacher."
She couldn't resist a challenge.
"My name is Rhianna," she signed.
He signed his name.
"Nice to meet you, Jonathan."
He reached to take her empty wineglass and his hand brushed hers. As before, a spark of energy made her pull back, her smile fading ever so slightly.
Does he feel it too?
Rhianna was alone with Jonathan for the first time all day. She felt like an awkward school girl, shy and unable to think of anything intelligent to say. So she stared at him instead. He paced the room, moving with feline grace, a jungle cat on the prowl. His eyes darted toward her and she looked away. Finally he sat on the edge of an armchair, poised to pounce.
The silence was excruciating.
She thought of JT. Was the old man okay? Was he worried because she hadn't called him? She hoped not. JT didn't need the stress.
Jonathan cleared his throat, bringing her back to the present. "Rhianna, I-uh…I'd like to take you up on your offer. Misty could really use some signing lessons, and since you're here I thought, perhaps…"
"You want me to teach her." It was a statement, not a question.
"If you wouldn't mind." He exhaled. "I know you're supposed to be on holiday―"
She gave him a wry smile. "Some holiday this has turned out to be."
"I'll pay you, of course. The same as the other teachers."
She set the wineglass on the coffee table. "You don't have to pay me, Jonathan. You didn't know I'd end up stranded on your island. Six weeks is too long to sit around and do nothing. To be honest, I'd be happy to help Misty. She's a lovely child."
A sad look crept into his eyes. "She is."
~ * ~
Jonathan stared into his wineglass, swirling the fragrant liquid. Misty is a beautiful child, even though she looks like her mother.
He tried not to think of Sirena. Every time he did, he felt a surge of fresh rage for his ex-wife. She'd left them when they needed her most. He remembered that day like it was yesterday. She wanted to continue with her acting career and felt that Misty's special needs would hold her back. She resented their daughter, but she resented him even more.
"You have no time for me," she said.
He'd never understand how she could just walk away. When the divorce papers had arrived, he signed them with relief. Now Sirena was somewhere in Europe, from what the newspapers reported, sleeping with anyone who would benefit her.
Forcing his ex-wife from his mind, he poured another glass of wine and watched Rhianna. What was it about this woman that made him so edgy and grateful at the same time?
The answer came quick.
Rhianna was very attractive―and she'd read to Misty when none of the teachers could be bothered.
"That was pretty generous of your employer to send you to the Bahamas," he said, struggling to end the silence. "You must have worked for him for a long time."
"Less than a year, actually."
"Really?"
She gave a nod.
His eyes narrowed. What kind of favor had she offered her employer to get him to splurge on an expensive holiday?
~ * ~
Rhianna noticed Jonathan's scowl.
He looks like he's swallowed a fly.
"My employer is the most wonderful person I've ever met," she stated. "He thought I needed a break, so he made all the arrangements and gave me this trip as a birthday present." She snorted. "If he'd known I'd be stranded on your island, I'm sure he'd be mortified."
Jonathan stared at her, his eyes aglow like flames.
Was she the moth?
Watching him, a strange tingle coursed through Rhianna's veins. The intensity of his gaze seemed very personal, as if he'd skimmed the surface of her skin with his fingertips instead of his eyes.
She shivered. Why did her body feel so inflamed?
Jonathan took a sip of wine and licked his lips. Then he smiled, a satisfied gleam in his sapphire eyes.
Her breath caught in her throat.
He knows I'm attracted to him.
The heat rose in her cheeks and she prayed that the soft lighting of the room would hide her reaction. She mentally cursed her sudden weakness. What the hell had gotten into her? She never reacted this way to men. Ever. All the men she'd met were uninteresting and forgettable. She could shrug them off because she never allowed them to impact her emotions. Or her life.
But how many men like Jonathan had she met? She'd spent years holed up with old people―dying people. She'd cut herself off from the world of dating and romance. She didn't want or need a man to complete her, and she certainly could live without physical intimacy.
Yet, here she was wishing Jonathan would kiss her.
She had to think of something else. Anything else.
Higginson's face came to mind. How would he react if saw her stretched out on a sofa, sipping wine with an extremely attractive man? A man who oozed sensuality and made her want to―
Don't think of that, Rhianna!
If Higginson could see her now, he'd probably faint.
She giggled at the thought.
"What's so funny?" Jonathan asked softly.
"I, um, was just thinking about someone back in Florida. He'd have a fit if he knew I was stranded here."
Another warning flashed in Jonathan's eyes.
Oh for crying out loud, she thought. What's he ticked off about this time?
"You were given a holiday," he said in a tight voice. "If I were you I'd take advantage of it." He finished his wine in one quick gulp and stood up. "I don't expect you to teach Misty, then hide in your room for the rest of the day. There are lots of things you can do to entertain yourself, and if you get really bored, just remind yourself it's only for six weeks. Maybe less if I get the parts for the radio before then."
"I thought you said the parts you needed were in the boxes Roland brought you."
He gave her a dry smile. "You mean the boxes that were left behind?"
She winced. "Oh…crap."
Jonathan raised a brow. "Crap? That's it?"
"I'm sorry, but it wasn't my fault."
"Then whose fault was it?"
From the stormy expression in Jonathan's eyes, Rhianna knew a tempest was brewing. One that was out of her control.
"Your presence has uprooted my quiet life here," he said. "Not only was I not expecting company, you managed to leave behind the one box we needed the most. Without a radio, we're at the mercy of fate."
She chewed her lip. "Let's just make the best of it."
"The best of it." His mouth turned down. "I guess that's what I should expect from a spoiled city girl."
"Hey!" She jumped to her feet, swaying slightly from the wine. "I am not a city girl. I was raised in a small town in Maine, I'll have you know." She let out an unladylike snort. "And I'm far from spoiled. You have no idea how hard I've had to work."
"I'm sure you do work…hard."
She glared at him, unable to wrap her tongue around a simple retort that would put him in his place. That ticked her off even more.
"Maybe your employer was planning on joining you on your holiday," he added. "I bet he's married too. Rich and married."
Rhianna was in complete shock. The fact that Jonathan saw her as nothing more than some rich guy's play toy was beyond comprehension.
A surge of ancient guilt brought bile to the back of her throat. Peter Waverley's face flashed before her. He'd thought she was a play toy too, an innocent child who would never argue…or fight back.
Don't think about that!
Looking into Jonathan's eyes, a knifelike pang pierced her heart. "You don't know me, Mr. Tyler," she said coldly. "And you have no right to judge me."
"If you're teaching my daughter, I damned well do."
"I volunteered," she snapped. "You seem to have forgotten that."
She watched the muscles contract in Jonathan's neck as he clenched his teeth. Without a word, he strode to the bar and poured another glass of wine before speaking.
"Maybe I need to reconsider your offer."
"What?" Rhianna was enraged. "Of all the―"
"I'd watch it if I were you."
The warning in Jonathan's voice scared her.
Without a second thought, Rhianna spun on one heel and darted to the front door. Shoving her feet into her sandals, she stepped out into the humid night and slammed the door behind her. She pushed through the foliage and prayed she was going in the right direction―toward the beach and the dock. She'd sleep there if she had to. She certainly wasn't spending another night in that house with such an insufferable man.
"How dare he insinuate I slept with my employer to get a vacation!" she fumed. "What the hell kind of―"
Her words were cut short by a sudden drop in the ground. Her shoes skidded over the grass as she went hurtling through the bushes, the cacophony of snapping branches and crackling underbrush following behind her.
Finally, a tree blocked her path. She smacked into it and sucked in a startled breath. Relieved that her plunge down the hill had ended, she straightened her dress and took in the sight that the foliage had hidden.
She let out a soft gasp.
Chapter 9
Before her, the ground dipped then rose steeply, giving way to a massive slab of limestone carved out in the center by Mother Nature's gracious hand. Between sheer rock walls, the wandering trench of a narrow waterfall meandered downward about four yards and ended in an oblong pool of dark, mysterious water.
Rhianna had never seen any place so breathtaking.
She smiled. "Now this is what I call heaven."
Closing her eyes, she inhaled slowly, deeply. The warm night air carried the sweet scent of allamanda and frangipani. The drumming of the falls slowed her pulse, and for a single moment she was lost in the heartbeat of the island.
Until a raspy, croaking sound interrupted the stillness.
Her eyes flared open. She searched for a sign that she wasn't alone, but she could see nothing, and the only sound she heard was that of the waterfall.
Overhead, a soft breeze disturbed the jungle-like canopy. The leaves parted, revealing a polished pearl of a moon, then hiding it again.
It was a beautiful night―a perfect evening for romance under the stars.
But there was no chance of romance on this holiday.
Of that, she was sure.
Thinking of Jonathan, she wondered what had set him off. One minute he seemed quite friendly; the next he was snapping at her. It shouldn't bother her, but it did.
She sighed.
This could be the longest six weeks of my life.
"But once you leave Lancelot's Landing," she murmured, "you never have to speak to that arrogant Jonathan Tyler again."
It was an unsettling notion.
She stood in the shadows of the tree line, which consisted mainly of coconut and casuarina trees. The latter had scattered thin, needle-like leaves on the ground.
Rhianna suddenly felt a deep yearning for JT to live long enough to see a sight as beautiful as the one she was experiencing.
"JT told me to relax," she said, kicking off her shoes.
With a self-conscious look over her sh
oulder, she peeled off her sundress and hung it over a tree branch. Wearing only panties and bra, she made her way over the casuarina leaves and around a patch of mud.
She stepped into the water. There was no gradual deepening, like wading into the ocean. Instead, cool water came up to her knee and she nearly lost her balance before she placed her other foot in the pool. The floor sloped toward the center and she waded out until the water reached her stomach.
Giggling, she bounced on her toes. One, two, three!
Rhianna plunged beneath the surface and swam underwater until she reached the bubbles caused by the waterfall. When she surfaced, she licked her lips. The water had a faint chalky taste. She swam to the far edge of the pool and stretched out, her body resting on the sandy floor while her head rested against a smooth rock.
"Ah," she said. "This is just what the doctor ordered."
She didn't want to leave. Ever. She realized something. Her discovery tonight might just save her sanity. If she could escape here every night―
Crrrack!
Before she could move, a bulky shadow appeared above her.
So Rhianna did what any woman would do.
She screamed.
A warm hand curled around Rhianna's mouth, cutting off her scream. Then a voice growled in her ear. "Be quiet, you silly fool! It's just me."
"You!" she stammered when the hand released her.
Jonathan stood slowly. "Last thing I expected was for you to be skinny-dipping on my island."
Realizing her state of undress, she self-consciously moved into the depths of the pool where she watched Jonathan restlessly prowl the edge. He didn't look at all happy.
"I'm not skinny-dipping."
"Really?"
The single word sounded threatening.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack," she said in an angry voice. "I thought you were a bear―"
"A bear?" He chuckled. "On an island in the Bahamas?"
"How the hell do I know what kinds of wild animals live here?" Wild like you, she almost said. "What are you doing following me anyway?"
"I wanted to make sure you didn't get lost. But I had no idea you'd be here." He sounded bitter. "How did you know about this place?"
"I didn't. I just…stumbled across it tonight."
It was literally the truth.
Lancelot's Lady Page 6