Sunshine and the Shadowmaster (15 page)

She begged him, “Give me two weeks.”

He didn't turn. He asked of the night beyond the window, “What do you mean, two weeks?”

“Two weeks for us to...get to know each other better. And during that time, you and Mark will be guests in my house.”

“Two weeks,” he repeated.

“Yes. Two weeks in North Magdalene.”

“And then what?”

“Then we'll decide whether a marriage between us has a prayer of working out.”

“I don't need two weeks. I've already decided. I'll marry you right now.”

Heather wished—oh, she wished—that she could give him what he wanted. But all they had in common, as far as she could see, was mutual desire and a baby on the way. There had to be more. There had to be love and respect and shared goals to strive for.

She'd had those things once. She'd have them again, or nothing at all.

“I said,” he repeated, “I want to marry you right now.”

Yes. All right. Whatever you say, a voice deep inside her
cried. She tuned it out and answered, “Then, in two weeks,
I'll
decide if I think it can work.”

“And if you decide that it
can't?
”

Heather had no idea how to answer that one. “Let's worry about that if it happens.”

He continued staring at the darkness beyond the glass, then his shoulders lifted with a sigh. “I'm working on a book now, Heather. I can't spare two weeks away from my office.”

She was ready for that excuse. “Bring that laptop computer of yours. Bring everything you need. The spare room upstairs is huge. You can set it up any way you want it.”

He looked at her then. “If you think you have to have two weeks to come to a decision, why not spend it here?”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “I love North Magdalene, Lucas. I've always thought I'd never leave there. Maybe in two weeks, you'll come to like it a little, too.”

“Don't count on it.”

She kept on smiling. “I won't. Just keep an open mind, all right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Does that mean I get my two weeks?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Let's just say you're going to have a heck of a time marrying me if I won't sign the license or say ‘I do.'”

He actually chuckled then. “You're amazing, you know? A sweet, old-fashioned girl on the outside. Tough as nails underneath.”

“I have to be tough, Lucas. I was born a Jones.”

* * *

“I told you not to let her get him alone,” Oggie grumbled when Heather and Lucas had rejoined the two men in the atrium and outlined their plans.

“What about the wedding?” Jared insisted. “Half an hour ago you two were on your way to Reno.”

“We decided we needed more time,” Heather explained.

Oggie harrumphed and blew a smelly cloud of smoke toward the skylights. “That's bull.” He pointed his cigar at Lucas. “Look at that man. That man knows what he wants and more time ain't it. So watch yourself with this
we
stuff, Sunshine.”

Jared broke in. “I keep asking and nobody's answering. What about the
wedding?
When's that gonna be?”

“I don't know yet, Dad.”

Jared gaped at her, then tried the kind of tone patient adults use on difficult children. “But, honey, he said he'd marry you right now.”

“I know. But
I
won't marry
him
right now. We need time to get to know each other better.”

Jared looked from Heather to Lucas and back again, then he said grimly, “You're pregnant. By him. It looks to me like you already know each other better than you should.”

“Give it up, Jared,” Lucas said wearily. “She's made up her mind. And she's already made it crystal clear that it's her way or no way.”

“But she can't—”

“Think again. What are we going to do, put tape on her mouth and have someone else say the vows for her? Forge her name on the marriage license?”

Jared looked at his daughter, considering. “It's a thought.”

“Forget it. She wants two weeks, she's got two weeks. Now, I've got plenty of spare rooms, so let's all get some sleep. We'll leave for North Magdalene tomorrow.”

* * *

The tap on the outer door of his bedroom suite came much later than Lucas had expected it. He rose from his bed, where he'd stretched out fully dressed except for his shoes, and padded on bare feet through the living area to the hall door.

Oggie and Jared were waiting on the other side. He gestured them in. “What took you so long?”

With a little groaning and grunting, Oggie lowered himself into an easy chair. “This house is bigger than the Winchester Mystery house. You got any idea what it's like stumblin' around in one hallway after another, lookin' for someone's room in this joint?”

“Well, all right. But you found it anyway.”

“Yeah. And you were smart to put Heather in that other wing. No way she's got even a clue that we're having this little talk.”

“Good.”

“And now we don't have her to worry about, we can get down to brass tacks here.”

“Fine with me.”

Jared spoke up then. “We don't like it. Her puttin' you off.”

“Neither do I.”

Oggie said, “Too much can happen to mess things up when you wait. It's better if you get married, and then work out the problems later.”

“I agree.”

“So I've decided you'd better get her into bed.”

Jared let out a strangled sound at that.

Oggie cast his son a sympathetic look. “I know, son. She's your little girl and you don't like to hear what this man's gonna do with her. But you gotta be real about this. It ain't nothin' he ain't done before.”

Jared turned away.

Oggie narrowed his beady black eyes on Lucas once again. “Sunshine is an old-fashioned girl. She's not in the habit of sleepin' with men she's not married to. So if you can get her in bed again right away, and pop the question right afterward, your odds are damn good she'll give in and say yes.”

Lucas was silent. He thought Oggie was right, though he had no intention of carrying this subject any further than Oggie had already taken it.

Oggie coughed and cut his eyes away. “Well. We'll leave the question of
how
you get a yes out of her up to you. But we'll count on you to do it. By, say, tomorrow night, when you're all settled in at her house in the bedroom next to hers.”

Lucas took that in, thinking about the way she'd held him off only an hour before. “You have a lot of faith in my powers of persuasion.”

Oggie shrugged. “There's her doubts. And there's the way the electricity in the air makes my hair stand on end when I'm in the same room with you two. Her doubts ain't got a chance, if you keep after her.”

“Fine. I get your point.”

“All right. So it's settled, then. By Monday morning, the day after tomorrow—”

“I know when Monday is.”

“Good. By Monday, you'll be on your way to Reno. And by Monday night, you and Sunshine will have the same last name.”

I
n spite of the late night she'd had, Heather woke early. She glanced toward the window where a patch of sky could be seen above the shutters. She saw gray. Fog had crept up on the huge house in the final hours before dawn.

Her stomach heaved. Dressed in the underwear she'd slept in, Heather leapt from the bed and sprinted for the bathroom of the suite. She made it to the pink marble commode just in time. She was sick, but not as badly as the night before. Probably because there wasn't much of anything in there to lose.

When it was over, she was surprised to discover that she didn't feel half bad—and she was starved. She found a new toothbrush in a drawer, brushed her teeth, washed her face and combed her hair. Then she put on her T-shirt and jeans and poked her head out of the suite's living room. She saw a maid in a pink polyester uniform pulling linens out of a closet not far away.

“Excuse me. Do you know where everybody is?”

The maid pointed the way to the breakfast room, where Heather found Lucas, Oggie and Jared gathered at a damask-covered buffet table. Lucas turned to look at her when she entered the room, though her sneakers couldn't have made that much noise on the tile floor.

“Good morning.”

Her skin tingled. Her cheeks felt warm. “Good morning.”

“Come on. Help yourself.”

“I will, thanks. I'm starved.” Heather joined the men as they helped themselves to eggs and croissants from silver chafing dishes.

While they served themselves, they discussed what they were going to tell Mark about the visit to North Magdalene. Lucas, Jared and Oggie were all for telling the boy that wedding bells would be ringing soon.

But Heather vetoed that idea.

“That decision won't be made for two weeks. There is no reason to turn his whole life upside-down quite yet.”

Heather intercepted the covert look that passed between her father and her grandpa. She didn't like it. She knew it meant they must still be trying to come up with a way to force her into marriage immediately. And she knew her grandpa's wily ways.

Well, let them do their worst. She wasn't going to change her mind. She and Lucas needed the time she'd insisted on, and she was determined to see that they got it.

Lucas chose a slice of smoked salmon. “Mark would love it if we were married. You know that damn well.”

Heather took a single croissant and turned her head to look at him. A little arrow of liquid fire shot right down to the core of her when their eyes connected.

Somehow, she managed to speak firmly anyway. “Fine, then. We won't get his hopes up. We'll let him believe it's a vacation, like the one you promised him last spring.”

“He should know what's going on,” Jared insisted.

Heather turned to her father, who stood on her other side. “Please. I know what you're up to here. If we tell Mark now, I've as good as made my decision. And I
haven't
made my decision. So give it up, all of you.”

“
Psst.
Put a lid on it.” Oggie gestured over his shoulder.

They all turned in unison to see Mark, still in his pajamas, standing in the entrance to the hall. He stared, eyes wide and mouth agape, from Oggie to Jared to Heather and back to Oggie again.

“Oh, wow. Aunt Heather. And Jared and Oggie Jones.” The boy breathed the men's names as if two superheroes had come to call.

Heather set down her plate and held out her arms. Mark ran to her.

After the hugs and the greetings had been exchanged, Lucas explained about their impromptu vacation, starting that very day, in North Magdalene. Mark ate three helpings of sausage and eggs, wearing an ear-to-ear grin the whole time.

Oggie and Jared left soon after breakfast. Heather stayed while Lucas and Mark packed their bags and Lucas made arrangements to have the equipment he needed delivered to Heather's house the next day.

Though fog had made the morning gray and dark, the last wisps of it had blown off by the time they left the estate. Heather sat in the front passenger seat of Lucas's car, wearing dark glasses against the bright glare of the sun and watching the craggy terrain of the peninsula give way to the farmlands around Salinas.

Lucas didn't talk much. He drove the car and answered when spoken to. From the back seat, Mark kept up a steady stream of happy chatter. Heather talked to the boy and dozed off once or twice and tried to ignore the way her body seemed electrified, stunningly alive—and connected by hot, invisible wires to the silent man a couple of feet away in the driver's seat.

They cut through the Diablo Mountain Range at Pacheco Pass and soon, on either side of them, the massive fields and orchards of the central valley were rolling by. At last they switched to Highway 80 in Sacramento, on their way to Roseville and Auburn and the climb into the Sierra foothills.

At a little after six, they pulled up in front of Heather's house. Once they'd carried all the luggage inside, she showed Lucas and Mark to their respective rooms. She left them to get settled in while she enjoyed a quick shower and made a simple dinner.

Mark cleaned his plate in record time and then begged to be allowed to visit Marnie. Lucas gave his permission, cautioning Mark to be back by nine.

When Mark was gone, Heather imagined she and Lucas would talk a little, share a little of their feelings about the two weeks of mutual discovery that they were embarking on. She suggested they go out on the front porch and enjoy the evening from the comfort of the padded wicker settee that waited in front of the living room windows.

But Lucas had other plans. During the drive from Monterey, he'd had a few thoughts about the chapter he was working on. He wanted to get them down while they were fresh.

Heather said that of course she understood. She cleaned up the dishes after he disappeared upstairs, then she read for a while. Mark came in right at nine, had his bath and went to his father's room, emerging half an hour later and trundling off to bed.

Heather decided to call it a night herself shortly after Mark turned in. Her room was the first one at the top of the stairs. But for some reason, she found herself standing in front of Lucas's room farther down, staring at the sliver of light gleaming under the door.

She lifted her hand to rap lightly and call his name gently. But at the last second, her nerve deserted her. If he'd wanted to see her, he would have come downstairs earlier, or at least left the door open as a signal that he wouldn't mind company. She let out a sad sigh and started to turn for her own room.

Right then, the door swung open. She gasped in surprise and whirled back around to meet Lucas's eyes.

“Afraid to knock?” He had his glasses in his hand and he was actually smiling. Maybe he'd been hoping she would seek him out after all.

Still, she felt awkward. “I didn't...that is, I...” Something totally mundane came into her mind and she decided to use it as an excuse for coming to his door. “You'll have to use Mark's bathroom downstairs. The only other one is in my room.”

His eyes gleamed at her. He knew very well she hadn't come to his door in order to explain which facilities to use. “I did grow up in this house, remember? I know where the bathrooms are.”

“Oh. Well, of course you do. How silly. I...”

“Heather?”

“Um, yes?”

He stepped back a little. “Come in.”

She bit her inner lip. She'd been thinking all night that she wanted them to have some time alone together—but not in his bedroom, for heaven's sake. Though her body hummed and pulsed at the mere thought of him, she had no intention of making love with him again. Not until they knew each other better on an emotional level.

Thus it seemed very dangerous to step beyond the threshold of the room where he slept.

Still, the room itself didn't look dangerous. Not at all. The furniture was furniture she dusted whenever she got around to it: a four-poster with pineapple finials and a white chenille spread. A bow-front bureau with a lace runner on top. A sea chest and a dark, looming armoire. In the corner was a spindly little desk with a cane-seat chair. Lucas's laptop sat open on the desk.

“Come in,” he said again. “Come on.”

She stepped over the threshold and he closed the door behind her.

He noticed she was looking at the makeshift work area he'd set up. “My own desk will be here tomorrow. And my home computer.”

“Oh,” she said. “Great.” She could see that there were words typed on the glowing screen of the laptop. Curiosity seized her. “Could I... I mean, would it bother you, if I looked at what you wrote?”

He seemed unconcerned. “No. Go ahead.” He pulled back the cane-seat chair for her. She approached cautiously and sat, scooting the chair closer to the desk in order to be able to read more comfortably.

Lucas leaned over her and set his glasses on the desk beside the laptop, distracting her with his warmth and his scent. He was close enough that she could have pressed her lips to his strong, olive-skinned neck.

“Look,” he said.

She made herself stop staring at his neck and turned her attention to the little computer.

Lucas punched two buttons that made the screen read Chapter Two. “That's the start of this section.” He pointed out the arrow key that would allow her to reveal more lines of text on the screen. “Think you can handle it?”

“Oh. Yes. Certainly.”

Blessedly he stepped away then. She drew in a relieved breath and began reading. Immediately she recognized the main character as one from an earlier book of his. She read quickly, punching the arrow key in sharp little taps, eager to get to the next line.

It ended too soon. There were only about ten pages. She turned to him when she'd read the last line, clapping her hands in unabashed delight. “Oh, that's great. I always loved him.”

“Who?”

“The reluctant murderer, from
Shadowdance.
”

Lucas had taken a seat on the sea chest. Now he leaned toward her a little. “You read
Shadowdance?
”

“Oh, of course. I've read all your books, Lucas. And not just since we've...” She felt herself blushing and willed the redness away. “I mean, not just since the time we spent together in June. I've always read them. As each one came out. Over the years. They're grisly and gory and scary and romantic. I can't put them down.” She lowered her voice to make it teasingly confidential. “Neither can Linda Lou Beardsly, to tell you the truth.”

He wasn't buying. “Oh, come on.
The
Linda Lou Beardsly, Nellie Anderson's best pal?”

“The very same. She hates herself for reading them. But she can't stop. Just like me.” It occurred to her she'd put her foot in it, so she hastened to amend, “Oh, what am I saying? Of course I don't mean I hate myself for reading your books. I don't at all. It was the other part, about not being able to
stop
reading them, that's what I meant.”

“Heather,” Lucas said. “It's okay. I understand.”

“Oh, good. I'm so glad, because I...”

All of a sudden, he rose from the sea chest.

She found herself looking up at him. “Because I...”

He closed the distance to her chair. Her eyes tracked each movement. She felt like a rabbit, frozen in an open field, watching the steady, stalking approach of a hungry mountain lion.

He stood looking down at her. “Because you what?”

She grasped the spindly back of the chair as if it could save her from the inappropriate thoughts that were racing through her mind. “I just wouldn't want you to think that I hated myself for...”

“Reading my books?”

“Yes. Because I don't. Not at all.”

“I'm so relieved.” His voice was like honey, pouring over her warm and slow. “Stand up.”

“I...what?”

“Stand up.”

She considered his command, fully aware that it wasn't something she
had
to do. She could simply tell him no and that would be that.

But the thing was, she
wanted
to stand up. Those invisible electric wires she'd felt on the drive from Monterey were crackling between them again. And the barrier of the chair was...interfering with them. The wires seemed to pop and snap in complaint, demanding that she stand up and step free of the chair. That she face him with nothing but an inch of air between them and give all the hot, wondrous currents a straight line from him to her and back again.

“Heather.”

She stood, and slid around so that the chair was behind her.

“Better. Now kiss me.”

She reminded herself that she had no intention of making love with him right now. “I don't think—”

“Right. Don't think.”

“No, really, I—”

“Don't argue. Just kiss me.” He held out his hands, to the sides, palms up. “I won't do anything. I'll keep my hands to myself. You do everything. That's how it'll be. For now.”

“But Lucas.” She got out the words, though all she wanted was to rise on tiptoe and press her lips to his. “It's not what we're supposed to be doing, kissing. We're supposed to be getting to know each other. Getting to understand...” The words trailed off. She'd completely forgotten what they were supposed to be getting to understand. “I...” She ran a hand back through her hair. “Um...”

“May I point out something?”

“I...”

“When two people want to touch as badly as you and I do, it becomes...artificial to hold back.”

She gulped. “It does?”

He nodded. “In fact, holding back is getting in the way, for me.”

“Getting in the way of what?”

“Of getting to know you better.”

She really hadn't thought of it that way. “It is?”

He nodded again. “All I can think of when I'm with you is that place on your neck that I love to suck....”