Cinderella Search (17 page)

She would dearly have liked to ask him what he wanted now, but couldn’t speak. She managed a courteous nod and waved him to the settee. He listened as she and Hank continued to wrangle over booth locations.

“May I make a suggestion?”

“Please do.” She kept her tone cool.

“If Hank’s booth were here,” he said, tapping the paper with the tip of a pencil, “his customers could back right in here.” He indicated a position at the rear of the parking area. “We could tape it off and mark it as a loading zone.”

Hank leaned over the paper, brightening. “Right. There’d only be about ten feet to carry things. And a lot of my stuff is heavy. But is there a path through the underbrush there?”

Lissa shrugged. “If there isn’t one now, there’s sure to be by the end of the festival. If,” she added, “if I can persuade the renter of booth twenty-three to trade with you.” She shuffled through the sheaf of papers that should have been in order, but no longer were.

“No problem,” Steve said. “That’s my booth, and I’m more than happy to trade if it makes things work out for you.”

She stared at him, trying to read his expression, but somehow he’d managed to hide his thoughts and feelings, as if he’d pulled the shades down over them.

“Great!” Hank said, pumping Steve’s hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal, buddy. What are you selling, anyway?”

“Chances,” Steve said. “The same thing as I’m taking,” he added in a lower voice.

“And now, gentlemen,” Lissa said quickly, “if you’ll forgive me, I worked on this stuff all night and haven’t had any sleep yet.” Not for the world would she admit she hadn’t slept because thoughts of Steve had kept her awake. “I’m going to unplug my phone, put a Do Not Disturb sign on my door, and go to bed.”

Hank, now that he was satisfied, became contrite and apologized profusely for the intrusion as he wrote out his check for the balance of his booth rental.

Steve said nothing, only opened the door for Hank and let him out. Then he closed it after him and stood looking at Lissa.

Lissa stared fixedly at the blank sheet of paper she’d torn off a writing tablet, then at the black felt marker in her hand, watching it shake.

“Lissa, look at me.” Steve’s voice poured over her like warm honey.

She didn’t look at him, but finished printing DO NOT DISTURB, then carefully set the pen down. Steve took the sign and fixed it to the outside of the door, which he closed firmly and locked from the inside. Lissa hovered halfway between the saloon and the galley, halfway between telling him to go and begging him to stay.

He approached her slowly. When his fingers touched her cheek, she flinched, but didn’t back away. “What do you want here?” she asked. “You sure as hell don’t need a booth. You already know whose tattoo you saw, who fell through your ceiling. You don’t have to try that sandal on ‘every girl in the kingdom’ as your signs say, to find your princess. Haven’t you figured it out yet, Steve? There are no more princesses in this world. And no princes.”

“How about dragons?”

“Lots of those.”

“And you want to slay them all. All by yourself.”

“And you think, in running this booth, in helping us make money, you’re going to prove to me you can slay a few for me?”

“I don’t want to have to prove anything to you, Lissa, but I’ve advertised it,” he said. “Promised prizes. So I plan to go through with it.”

She clenched her fists. “All right. Go through with it. Since you’ve also advertised that all proceeds will go to the community fund, you have no need to be here. You don’t have to pay me rent.”

“I have a need to be here,” he said levelly. “A need to talk to you.”

“What about? Didn’t you say all you had to Tuesday night?”

“I wasn’t being fair to you Tuesday night. You’ve been fighting for the inn a long time. I know that. I also know you weren’t using me or trying to distract me with sex. Okay, maybe it took me a while to realize it and decide what to do. I never said I was a quick study.”

“You said you loved me, Steve, yet you were willing to jump to conclusions about my motives the minute you found out I’m against your father’s buying the inn.”

“I do love you, and I was wrong to jump to those conclusions. I also have to tell you that as far as I’m aware, my father has never heard of Madrona Cove, the Madrona Inn, or even Quadra Island. He didn’t send me here to check things out preparatory to his making a bid. If there’s another buyer in the picture, I don’t know who it is. The only reason I came here is because a friend recommended it. He used to come here with his family when he was a kid. You might even remember him. Jake Wallace?”

“I remember Jake.”

“We were on shipboard together this past winter.” Lissa backed away, searching his eyes, looking for truth. About Jake, she believed him, but about the rest of it, she was still unsure. It was hard to give up a preconceived notion. And if it wasn’t Jackson Resorts who was interested, then who could it be?

As if he sensed her confusion, Steve said quietly, “You can either believe me or not. The choice is yours. That’s what I meant when I said I was taking chances. I’m taking chances on something I believe is right for both of us.”

In other words, the ball was in her court.

L
ISSA MET HIS STEADY
gaze, struggling to speak past the tension in her throat. Finally, she was able to whisper, “I … believe you.”

He took a step closer to her.

“I wasn’t lying, Steve.”

“When you said you cared about me?”

She nodded. He took another step toward her. “I want more than that,” he said.

She couldn’t answer him. Not in words. She took a step toward him, and then, suddenly, the world was right-side-up again as they tightly embraced.

His kiss was deep and dark and full of promise. His eyes, when he lifted his head, were filled with love and compassion. “You need sleep,” he said, lifting her off her feet and carrying her through the galley, then into her cabin. “And I mean to stand guard and make sure you get it.”

He laid her down on her berth. She kept her arms around his neck. “Uh, do you think you could stand guard from a prone position?”

He laughed and slid his length against hers. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Maybe,” she said, a few moments later, “I’m not as tired as I thought I was.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, rolling to one side and scooping up a few of the packets still strewn across her bedside table. “What will it be, Pink Peppermint-Stick, Cinnamon Sizzler, or Chocko-Cocko?”

“What? You made that up!”

“Did not.”

She read the label on the brown foil. He hadn’t made it up. They collapsed together, giggling, then kissing, and Lissa found herself wondering exactly how many different descriptions the manufacturers of those condoms had come up with. And how many they’d go through while Steve’s vacation lasted.

She didn’t dare think of the time to follow.

He looked good with a hammer in his hand, Lissa decided Monday morning. Wielding it, he looked even better. The muscles in his back rippled in the sunlight as he nailed the roof of his booth in place, using boards painted to look like the stone blocks of a castle—the one Cinderella lived in. As she watched him, Lissa paused in her work of helping Caroline set up her booth nearby.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be helping me, not gobbling up the competition with your eyeballs.”

Lissa swung around and grinned sheepishly at Caroline, who grinned back. “Though I have to admit,” Caroline continued, “he is good to look at. Are you bringing him to the committee lunch today? He deserves it. He’s worked as hard as any of the rest of us.”

Lissa nodded. “He’s coming.” If he hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have attended. It scared her, how much she needed to be near Steve. She hated to be out of range of his voice, not to be able to reach out and know he’d be there to touch. It even scared her that she sensed he felt exactly the same about her, that his feelings were genuine, deep, and for the long haul. They hadn’t discussed the future, not really, but it was there between then, unspoken, yet almost tangible. One way or another, they would be together.

An hour later, they returned to her boat to shower away the sweat and grime of their morning’s labor. “I suppose,” he said, sliding his wet body against hers in the small cubicle, “we could have gone to my room to shower.”

She pushed herself up against him. “Isn’t this more fun?”

He sat on the lid of the commode and pulled her astride him. “Do you want to be late for lunch?” she asked.

“Hell, yes!”

She gasped as he slipped inside her, and rocked against him as powerful tremors of pleasure shuddered through them. They both climaxed fast and hard, and when it was over, Lissa couldn’t move. She could only nestle close to her lover, her head on his shoulder, her arms around his back.

They missed lunch altogether, but made it to the inn in time to walk in on an altercation between Pete and a well-dressed woman in her mid-fifties, who appeared to be unwilling to take no for an answer.

Pete planted his pudgy hands on the desk. “I’m telling you, lady, if someone was supposed to have made reservations for you within the last two days, there’s no record of it here and—” He broke off, spotting Lissa. “You!” he said. “I bet it was you. Did you promise this lady a room and forget to make a note of it?”

Lissa took a step back and bumped into Steve, whose arms came around her from behind. “No,” she said. “If you recall, Pete, I haven’t been on duty for the past two days.”

“Then it was probably on your last night. You screwed up, Lissa. Admit it.”

“I did no such thing!”

“You think you can get away with anything, don’t you, just because your family once owned this dump? Well, let me tell you, miss, your days here are numbered and—”

Frank and Rosa came out of the dining room just then. “What’s all this bellowing?” Frank asked. “We have guests in the inn, I might remind you.” His gaze lit on the woman. His shoulders went back. His chest went out. He sucked his belly in. Lissa stared at him.

“This is none of your business, Frank Wilkins. You’re not in charge here anymore, remember?” Pete’s contempt for Frank was obvious.

“Please, it was clearly a mistake,” the lady said. “I’m sure I can find a bed-and-breakfast somewhere nearby. Can anyone suggest one?”

Pete snorted. Frank rubbed his chin and continued to gaze at the woman—as if he’d never seen one before. Silence hung loud in the lobby for a moment until Lissa spoke, “I’m sorry, Mrs. …?”

“Forsythe. Loretta Forsythe.” She smiled at the group and Lissa noted that her gaze lingered on Steve. But then it focused intently on Lissa’s father, and she seemed just as taken with him as he was with her. She actually patted her perfectly coiffed dark gold hair and lowered her lashes as she looked at Frank from under them and smiled coquettishly.

Rosa, Lissa could see by her bristling, noticed that little detail, too.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Forsythe,” Lissa repeated, “but we’re preparing for our town’s birthday bash on the weekend, and there’s absolutely no accommodation to be had on the island. I wish we could help you, but …” She shrugged. Her apology was false. She didn’t like the way her father was acting. How could he be such a dork, ogling the stranger, hurting Rosa this way?

“She can have my room,” Steve said, right out of the blue.

Lissa gaped at him. “But—”

He squeezed her shoulder as he stepped around her. “I’ve been invited to spend the rest of my vacation aboard a boat in the marina, so I was planning on checking out today, anyway. That is, Mrs. Forsythe, if you don’t mind three flights of stairs and antique furnishings. You’ll be sleeping in a genuine sleigh bed.”

She beamed. “Why, thank you, Mr.…?”

“Jackson.” He grinned. “Steve Jackson. And this is Frank Wilkins.”

“Mr. Wilkins,” she cooed. “I’m so pleased to meet you.” She smiled, eyes an unlikely shade of turquoise—unless one gave credit to colored contact lenses—blazing with what appeared to be genuine delight. “I understand your family built this inn. I bought a fascinating book about Madrona Cove on the ferry and read it all the way from Horseshoe Bay to Vancouver Island.”

“I’m delighted to meet you, too,” Frank said, taking both her hands in his. “My mother wrote the original history of the inn, then I added a few chapters later. This is my daughter, Lissa, who I hope will bring the book up to date for its next printing.”

Not wanting to comment on that, and wanting to drag her father back to reality, Lissa said, “And this is Rosa—” She broke off. Rosa was gone.

“I’ll go and pack,” Steve said. “It won’t take me long, Mrs. Forsythe. I’m sure you’ll want to get settled.” He grinned. “I bet Frank could find you a comfortable chair in the lounge, and possibly a drink. Right, Frank?” Without waiting for a reply, he took the stairs two at a time.

“I don’t have any chambermaids on at this time of day,” Pete said, sullen and uncooperative. “What do you expect me to do, climb those stairs myself and fix up the room?”

Lissa slid a glance over his bulk. Pete had never climbed a stair that she’d ever heard of. She wasn’t sure he was able, which was why he’d never taken the option of occupying the top floor, as was the manager’s right. Instead, he’d taken the best cabin and ate in the dining room. And ate and ate and ate …

“Liss’ll take care of it, won’t you, honey?” her father said. “She spent most of her high-school vacations chambermaiding for me when I managed the place, and I’m sure she hasn’t forgotten how. Now, let’s see about that drink, Mrs. Forsythe.”

“Call me Loretta,” she said. “And I’ll call you Frank. I have a feeling we’re about to become very good friends.”

As Lissa headed by on the way to the stairs, the dining room doors squeaked and she saw Rosa’s stricken face peering out through the crack.

Damn her father! She couldn’t believe the way he was acting.

“Thanks a lot,” she said to Steve, slamming a stack of bedding down on the dresser.

He stared at her. “What’s eating you?”

“You. Giving your room up to that … that more-than-middle-aged femme fatale! My father’s gone into orbit over her, and poor Rosa’s heartbroken. Couldn’t you see he’d gone gaga over her the minute he laid eyes on her?”