Creating Merry Hell (6 page)

“No.”

“Merry?”

Grace, her best friend in the whole world, knew her too well. She could kid herself but she could never kid Grace. The truth was she did feel different when she was with Jack. No one had ever come close to the way he made her feel.

“All right. All right. I like him. What’s not to like? He’s gorgeous and smart and funny, he’s an absolute demon in the sack, but none of that changes anything—when I leave here in a few days, it’s over. It has to be. Our lives are too different.”

Grace smiled and poured more tea. “You sure about that? I’ve never seen Jack look at anyone the way he looks at you. I doubt he’ll let you go as easily as you think.”

She already knew the look Grace was talking about, like she was the only woman in the world. That was how he made her feel. It was exciting and addictive. It didn’t help that he was so open about his feelings for her. Several times he’d attempted to talk to her about a future, but
scaredy
cat that she was, she always found a way to change the subject. Only in the small hours, when she curled against Jack’s body watching him sleep, did she dare allow herself to admit she’d like a chance to try with him, to let herself love him. Then she thought of her parents and remembered why she didn’t do love. Love was supposed to be everlasting, enduring and unselfish, and yet it was none of those things. She’d been taught that lesson well.

She and Jack weren’t meant to be—the odds were too stacked against them. In a few days she was leaving. She was doing the right thing, so why did that thought make her feel so miserable? Sometimes it was easier to know when to cut your losses and run.

* * * * *

On the other side of the island Rose swung open her front door and found Jack on the doorstep.

“Jack! How lovely to see you. Come in, come in,” she beckoned, clasping him to her in a quick but fragrant hug. “What brings you over this way?”

Not sparing his words, Jack said, “I need to talk to you about Merry.”

“Splendid. George and I are out back in the garden. Actually, truth be told I was in the potting shed. Would you mind joining me out there while we talk?”

Since Rose had already turned the corner through to the kitchen, she left Jack little choice but to follow, careful to duck and avoid the
spiderwebs
that hung in the doorway. It would never occur to Rose to clear them. Live and let live was her way. Most of the time anyway.

Turning in to the kitchen, he bypassed wooden work surfaces littered with jars and small terracotta pots. Some were filled with what looked like herbs—at least that’s what Jack thought they were—others were lined up waiting to be filled. Through the back porch he picked his way through an assortment of flowery Wellington boots and more terracotta pots before stepping out into the afternoon sunshine. Spying Rose’s husband energetically pruning back a shrub farther down the garden, he called out to him, “Afternoon, George. Great spell of weather we’re having.”

George raised a hand in greeting, his gray eyebrows rising subtly. “’
Tis
indeed. Good to see you, boy, my wife’s been expecting you. Didn’t think you’d come by myself but she was right again. You’d think after forty years I’d learn not to doubt.” The old man shook his head, a jovial smile lighting his face as he turned his attention once again to the shrub.

Hands thrust deep into his pockets, Jack followed the racket Rose was making. By the time he found her she had her head and shoulders poking inside a scarred lowboy. “Ah, I knew I had a stash in here somewhere.”

With a triumphant flourish she straightened to her full height of five-foot-nothing brandishing a bottle of thirty-year-old
Ardbeg
in one hand and two gem-encrusted tumblers in the other.

Jack wasn’t so sure whiskey was such a good idea but after quick review thought what the hell, he could do with one. Last night he made another attempt to broach the subject of a future with Merry and as usual she’d shut him down. Since she was always very inventive when it came to distracting him, Jack hadn’t put up too much of a fight. Now time was running out. She was leaving soon and Jack needed to know they could work things out before she left. Not a pledge of undying love—that was too much to hope for—right now he’d settle for the promise of a chance. He wouldn’t let her pretend this week meant nothing more than sex brought on by the spell. Merry wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. They had so much more going for them and he wasn’t about to let her throw it all away because she was too frightened to risk her heart and admit he might actually mean something to her. Exactly what that was they would have to work out but right now all he wanted was the chance to try.

Rose poured a generous two fingers worth of whiskey into the two glasses and handed one to Jack. Raising the glass in her hand, she winked at him and said, “Bottoms up,” and knocked back the amber liquid in one go. Impressed, Jack followed her example, savoring the peaty earthiness as the
Ardbeg
slid effortlessly down his throat.

“Now, I believe you have something you want to ask me?” Rose gently reminded. “Or did you come out all this way to drink my good whiskey?”

Considering his empty glass, Jack smiled. “It’s a fine dram, Rose, but indeed I do have a question for you. Grace and Merry have got it into their heads you cast some sort of spell. I don’t happen to think that’s true. Is it?”

Not answering his question right away, Rose picked up a trowel and scooped compost from a bag. Scattering the compost into a tray, she did this a few times until she was satisfied with the depth. “What do you think Jack?” she said with a sigh.

“That’s just it. I don’t know. I’ve wanted her for so long and now that it seems I could finally have a chance with her, I really think we could make this work, but she won’t talk about it, insists all this intensity is because of your spell. I just don’t know.” Scratching at his
stubbled
jaw, he grunted. “I have all these feelings but are they real? Is any of it real?”

Appearing to concentrate on the trays, she rubbed the dirt between her fingertips, breaking up any clumps. “What is your heart telling you?” Rose asked. “Look inside, Jack. Trust yourself,” she coaxed softly.

Frustrated by
Merry’s
reluctance to talk and irritated by Rose’s evasive answers, Jack willed his mind to clear and focus on the question. What did his heart tell him? “It feels real. She’s all I think about. I-I think I love her.”

The last week had been nothing short of amazing. Merry had proven to be all the things he’d wished whenever he thought of her over the years. She blew him away.

Rose stopped what she was doing and smiled tenderly at him. “I’m very pleased you said that, Jack.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because, young man, there was no spell.”

“Why then, do the girls think there was one?”

Back to rubbing at the dirt, Rose looked over to him, not a shred of remorse on her face. “Ah, well, I might have told a little fib about there being one. I happened to overhear them discussing you. I knew Merry was attracted to you but because of past circumstances I also knew she wouldn’t allow herself to act upon it, not unless she felt somehow powerless against it, to have the decision taken out of her hands so to speak. There was a lucky charm or two in the wedding cake I baked for Grace and Finn. Alas, this time I was forced to improvise.” Not missing the scowl brewing on his face she said, “Be angry with me if you must, Jack, but if you two were left to your own devices you would have pussyfooted around each other for goodness knows how much longer. That’s when I hinted in a roundabout sort of way at the cherries being enchanted and the seed was sown so to speak.” Ripping open a packet and sprinkling seeds over the prepared compost, she laughed at her own little joke.

Jack took a minute to let it all sink in. He’d been right when he’d told her there was no spell. It really did come down to the two of them and some good old fashioned lust. All these feelings he had were real. Which meant hers were too. Merry might not love him but she felt something for him—he’d bet any amount of money on it. Would Merry let herself believe it though? Could she accept that she’d given herself to him of her own free will?

“I’m not angry at you.” How could he be? “What if they hadn’t believed you?”

“Then no harm done. Between you and me, I wish I had thought to enchant the cherries. Then again, you two were generating enough magic between you to make an old woman blush. You would have found a way to make it happen. My way just sped it up a little. No matter though, it all worked out for the best.”

“Not quite. Merry will be gone in a few days.” For now she was in his bed and in his heart but their time together was coming to an end and he wanted her in his life permanently. He wanted the whole package.

“So, young man, tell me what are you going to do about it?”

“Whatever it takes to make her believe we can make this work between us.”

Rose nodded. “If you want some advice from an old woman, give her time, as much time as she needs. She’ll come to realize that no one can predict the future, not even me. Tell her there was no spell. What she chooses to do with that is up to her. At least you will have the knowledge that you were true to your heart.”

Rose picked up a small watering can, muttered a few words under her breath that Jack couldn’t quite make out and next thing water began to spout from the can. That wasn’t even the best bit. Rose took her hand from the handle and the small can moved on its own spraying water over the seeds she had just sown. Winking at him, she said, “Now that’s a spell.”

Chapter Six

It was late and Jack and Merry had the restaurant to themselves. Jack was licking chocolate sauce from
Merry’s
fingers while beneath the table her thighs squirmed together. Merry felt wonderfully decadent and was looking forward to the evening becoming more so. She wondered if she could get the chef to part with more of that dreamy chocolate sauce. Jack kissed each of her fingertips but when he got to her ring finger he hesitated.

“Why did you call off your engagement?”

For once Jack’s timing sucked. Surprised by the unexpected question, Merry withdrew her hand and dabbed at her fingers with a napkin. “Excuse me?”

“You told me you and Rex were engaged. I was wondering why you never went through with it. Why did you call it off?”

Buying time, carefully placing the linen on the table, Merry raised her big gray eyes to study him. “What makes you think it was me?”

“I saw the two of you together, remember? It wasn’t him.”

Okay. This wasn’t the way she’d envisaged them finishing off their meal. Certainly the way he’d been sucking on her fingers had more than hinted at a more pleasant finale. The look in his eyes was still hot, still hungry, but a muscle
ticced
in his jaw and Merry knew from experience how stubborn he could be. Chin tilted, looking him straight in the eyes, she said, “I didn’t love him.”

“If you weren’t in love with the guy then why agree to marry him?”

So many questions. Not idle ones either, this was important to him. She had nothing to hide so why not tell him the truth? “If I didn’t love him, he didn’t have the power to hurt me. Figured that way I’d save myself a lot of heartache in the long run.”

Shaking his head as though to clear it, Jack said, “Okay, help me out here. Why bother getting engaged at all?”

“I liked him. I thought at the time it would be enough, that I would be able to make it work.”

“And now?”

”After I saw Grace and Finn together at their wedding I knew what a sham my marriage would have been. We weren’t on an equal footing. He knew I didn’t feel as deeply for him as he felt about me but he didn’t seem to mind. In the end, I did. He deserved better and in time he would have come to resent me. So you see it wouldn’t have been all that different from my parents’ marriage. What’s this about Jack?”

Stormy blue eyes bored into hers. “I want to know what happens after tomorrow night.”

Ah, so this was it, no more skirting around the issue. She’d been dreading this conversation, had in fact done everything in her power to avoid it. That she’d known for days it was coming didn’t make it any easier. “I go home.”

“You are home.”

“No, Jack, my home, my business, my life is in Edinburgh.” Knowing he was hating every bit of her answer but not wishing to give him false hope, she kept forc
ing
the words out. “A week. That’s all you asked for.” This would be so much easier if she didn’t care for him so much, if she hadn’t come to enjoy being with him so much.

She didn’t even know how it had happened. She thought she’d been careful in keeping him at arm’s length, pushing him away when he got too close and yet he still kept coming back, treating her with tenderness. With love.

“What if I want more?”

“There isn’t any more, Jack.”

“The hell there isn’t.”

“Please don’t do this. Not here.” Merry just knew he was going to ask for something she was unable to give.

“Where then, Merry? When would suit you? Tell me, when would you like to talk?”

“I don’t. I want you to leave it.”

“You know what? That’s too bad, Merry, because I do. I want to know what this means to you.”

Merry was saved from answering when the waitress came to the table to tell them coffee was being served in the drawing room. Neither of them spoke as they took their seats in front of a smoldering peat fire. It should have been romantic, the perfect end to what should have been a beautiful evening. Only it had been marred by Jack’s need to push and
Merry’s
reluctance to give him anything.

Staring into the flames, Merry lifted the cup to her lips and murmured, “I can’t give you more.” Still not looking at him, she took a sip of her coffee.

Jack laughed, the sound hollow. “Actually, that’s not true. I think what you mean is you won’t.”

Merry didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up, pretending that he and everything they’d shared this week meant nothing to her. The hurt and disappointment in his voice made her heart ache. Every minute she spent with him made it harder to resist him. No one had ever tempted her to risk her heart the way he did. “Jack, please, can’t we enjoy the time we have left?”