Hell, he thought in total disgust, he was lying to himself, when he’d always made a practice of being scrupulously honest. He didn’t want to go back to Spain, to that house, without Susan Abbott along to drive him crazy.
He shoved his wet hair back from his face. He’d gone swimming on his way back to the old garage—there was a pond hidden deep in the woods that was clear and cool, but it hadn’t managed to chill his blood. Keeping watch over Susan while she slept, watching the rise and fall of her small, perfect breasts, the flicker of her eyelids as she dreamed, the softness of her lips, had driven him half-crazy with desire.
Maybe once he was out of here he’d forget about her. If he had any sense he’d skip the wedding and head on out tomorrow morning, and to hell with his promises to Louisa. It would be a simple matter to book passage on a tramp steamer and make his excuses later. Louisa would understand.
Or would she? He’d never been a coward in his entire life. Not a physical coward, not an emotional one. Why the hell was he starting now?
There was a sudden gust of wind, and he looked up. And froze. Susan Abbott was standing just inside the open door, and for a moment he had the strangest vision. She looked different, with long, flowing clothes and a mane of dark hair.
And then he blinked, and she was still standing there. In the jeans and T-shirt he’d last seen her in, looking as lost and confused as he felt.
He didn’t move, afraid to make the wrong one. He was wearing nothing but an old pair of cutoffs that he’d pulled on after his swim, and maybe he should find a shirt, or maybe he shouldn’t, if he was just going to take it off again. He watched her.
There was no electrical power in the old, abandoned building, and the place was only lit by a couple of oil lamps. It didn’t matter. He could see her quite clearly, see the doubt and frustration in her eyes.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” she said.
“Don’t you?” He kept his voice even, noncommittal. He felt like a homy teenager, acutely aware of the rumpled bed behind him. Wondering if she was thinking of it, too.
“I went to see Edward. To talk with him. But he was...preoccupied. Busy. I could see him through the window. So I ran away.”
“With another woman?” he asked, trying to hide his surge of triumph.
Susan shook her head. “Worse. He was watching golf on TV.”
Being a man, Jake couldn’t quite see the criminality of such an act. “What’s wrong with watching golf?”
“On the night before your wedding? When your fiancée has decided to take a two-day siesta? It’s a little cold-blooded, don’t you think?”
“Edward never struck me as a particularly passionate sort,” he offered.
“Neither am I.” There was delicious doubt in her voice.
“I think you’re wrong about that,” he said. “You just haven’t found the right man.”
She managed to summon up the ghost of her old defenses. “And that would be you?” she said, faintly caustic.
“That would be me.” The words astonished him with their rightness. For all his frustration and denial it was suddenly very clear. He was the right man. And she was the right woman.
“Do you play golf?” she asked suspiciously.
“Occasionally. But I never wear funny pants. And I never watch golf on TV. And you can be damned sure I wouldn’t be spending my time alone when I could be with a woman like you.”
He wondered who was going to make the first move. If he took a step toward her would she run away again? He didn’t think he could stand it if she did.
“I can’t marry Edward,” she said in an odd voice.
He nodded, for lack of anything better to do. “Did you just figure that out?”
She shook her head. “I think I’ve known it for fifty years.”
It made no sense, but then, it didn’t need to. Again her image wavered and shifted in the lamplight And he gave up being patient.
He crossed the garage floor, but she held her ground, not running. When he reached her she looked up at him, her green eyes wary. Waiting.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“I suppose I’m afraid you’ll abandon me,” she said carefully. “People do. They leave all the time, and the only way to protect yourself is never to care in the first place. I don’t think I could stand it if I were abandoned one more time. By someone who mattered.”
