Home at Rose Cottage (19 page)

She poured the wine for her sister and her brother-in-law, then poured another full-to-the-brim glass for herself. She found the bag she’d brought from home with a few of Melanie’s favorite Boston treats and hauled everything outside, hoping the gifts would distract her sister for a while.

The tactic worked, too, for about five minutes. Then Melanie shot a pointed glance at Mike, who immediately took the hint and led Jessie a discreet distance away.

“Okay, talk,” Melanie ordered.

“About?”

“Why you’re here. What are you running away from? Or should I ask whom?”

“Maybe I was just overdue for a vacation,” Maggie retorted evasively.

“When you take a vacation, which you rarely do, you go to cooking school in Tuscany, you don’t come down here.”

“You did,” Maggie replied testily.

“
I
was running away,” Melanie reminded her. “Which is why I recognize the symptoms.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, isn’t it possible to have any secrets in this family?”

“No.”

Maggie laughed, but even she could hear the edge of hysteria in her voice.

“Talk to me,” Melanie repeated. Her patient expression suggested they would be here a very long time if Maggie didn’t open up.

“I thought for sure you were the one sister who wouldn’t pester me for details.”

“You must have me confused with someone who wasn’t born a D’Angelo,” Melanie retorted. “Talk.”

“Okay, here’s the condensed version, and it’s all you’re getting. I met a man,” Maggie revealed finally. “The wrong man, but at least this time I recognized it and got the hell out of Dodge.”

Melanie regarded her with amusement. “So, how’s running away working for you?”

“I’ve only been here a few hours. It hasn’t had time to work.”

“Want to tell me about him?”

“No,” Maggie said flatly. Talking about Rick would only keep him front and center in her mind. She needed to bury all thoughts of him.

Melanie looked disappointed. “Not even a little hint?”

“Nothing,” Maggie insisted.

“Want Mike to go beat him up?”

Maggie bit back a grin. “If I’d wanted someone to beat him up, I’d have told Dad. Besides, he didn’t do anything wrong. This is about me, about the way I turn everything into some major big deal, even when it’s evident that it’s nothing more than a fling.”

“Who said that’s all it was? You or him?”

“Nobody had to say it,” Maggie replied. “It was obvious.”

“Really? How is it obvious if nobody says it?”

“It just is,” Maggie said stubbornly.

Melanie rolled her eyes. “You know what they say about making assumptions about what somebody else is thinking, don’t you?”

Maggie frowned. “That only applies if the evidence isn’t plain as day.”

“Really? What evidence is that?”

“Past history.”

“Whose?”

“His. Mine.”

“Maybe one or both of you have learned from your mistakes,” Melanie suggested.

Maggie wanted to believe that she had. That’s why she was here and not in Rick’s bed with his hands all over her.

As for Rick, why would he have learned anything? She doubted he considered his past behavior to be a mistake. He was probably perfectly content with the revolving door his love life had become.

“Look, the point is that it’s my decision to cut my losses. I don’t need you to question it,” Maggie told her sister irritably. “Not when you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Because you won’t tell me,” Melanie countered. “I give really good advice when I know what I’m dealing with.”

“I’m telling you this is the way it has to be. End of story. I don’t want or need your advice. I just need your company from time to time to keep from going stir-crazy.”

Melanie looked as if she might argue, but instead she cupped her hand under Maggie’s chin and looked into her eyes. “I’m here if you need me, okay?”

Tears stung Maggie’s eyes. “Thanks, sis.”

“That’s what the D’Angelo sisters do,” Melanie reminded her. “We stick together.”

“Through thick and thin,” Maggie agreed. She slid a sly glance toward her sister and asked the one question
bound to get Melanie off on a safer tangent. “How’s married life treating you?”

A dreamy expression immediately crossed Melanie’s face, and her gaze sought out her husband. She sighed in obvious contentment. “Better than I expected.”

“And Jessie? I know you’ve both had your share of problems with keeping her behavior in check.”

“It’s like she’s a different little girl,” Melanie said. “Not that she’s perfect, far from it, but she hasn’t been out of control in weeks and weeks now.”

“Must be your mellowing influence,” Maggie teased, nudging her sister in the ribs. They both knew Melanie had a temper of her own, though she kept it in check ninety percent of the time.

“I think it’s just knowing that I’m not going anywhere,” Melanie corrected. “I think Mike’s finally gotten that through his thick head, too.”

“I hope so. He married you, after all.”

“But I think he still had doubts. You should have seen the way he watched me the first time we had a huge argument. I think he was convinced I’d take off.”

“But you stayed.”

“I love him. Of course I stayed.” It was Melanie’s turn to give her sister a sly look. “Unlike some people I know, who run at the first sign of trouble.”

Maggie groaned. “I thought we’d stopped talking about me.”

Melanie laughed. “Nope. Just took a break.”

Maggie stood up. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“It’s not even eight o’clock.”

“I had an exhausting day. It’s a long drive from Boston.”

“And you’re a night owl. Maybe I’ll send Mike and
Jessie home, and you and I can have an old-fashioned slumber party. We can talk about men.”

“I’ve done
all
the talking about men I intend to do,” Maggie said emphatically. “Change the subject or go home.”

“Ungrateful wretch.”

“Nosy witch.”

They laughed at the familiar bickering.

“I’ve missed this,” Melanie said. “I hope you stay a long, long time.”

“It’s just a vacation,” Maggie warned her.

Melanie’s smile spread. “Yeah, that’s what I said when I came down here last March.”

“It’s a vacation,” Maggie repeated.

She had a hunch she was going to need to keep reminding herself—reminding both of them—of that. That was the trouble with running away from home. Sometimes it was very hard not to let pride and fear stand in the way of going back. That was especially true since the man she was running from was likely to be right there when she got back…maybe not waiting for her, but still too damn close for comfort.

O
n Melanie’s recommendation, Maggie found the café in Irvington that served a decent latte and settled at one of the outdoor tables with a stack of regional magazines. Studying the competition always provided a great distraction. She usually knew what to expect from the publications she saw regularly, but she’d found some new ones this morning. With any luck those would be intriguing enough to keep her mind off Rick. Of course, there was no denying that was a tall order.

In fact, she’d deliberately left her cell phone back at the cottage, since the blasted thing had been ringing every five minutes all morning long. She’d finally shut it off, but since she didn’t entirely trust herself not to check for messages, she’d decided to put some distance between herself and that possible link to the man she was so determined to avoid.

Did Rick know by now that she was gone? Did he even care? Veronica had sent an email earlier to let Maggie know that his photos were in and that they were spectacular. The email hadn’t mentioned whether Rick had asked about Maggie or even whether he’d come by personally or sent the pictures by courier. Maggie hadn’t wanted to
ask. If the photos had come by courier, it would suggest that Rick, too, was taking extra measures to avoid any more contact between them.

“Want me to scan the pictures in so you can see them?” her assistant asked.

Control freak that she was, Maggie had replied at once, then waited and checked to see if the files had come through. As soon as she’d seen the photos, her heart beat a little harder. Rick had done an amazing job. He was every bit as talented as his reputation implied, even if he had been shooting pictures of summer squash and corn instead of willowy blondes. Maggie had immediately wanted to pick up the phone and call to congratulate him.

That was what had finally driven her out of the house. She was perfectly capable of making her own coffee, but the prospect of sitting outside, thumbing through unfamiliar magazines to look for some ideas that would be fresh to her readers, promised to be almost enticing enough to keep her mind off Rick for an hour or two.

Unfortunately as she studied some of the region’s best photography, she realized none of it held a candle to what Rick had been able to do on short notice. When she realized she was sitting there making comparisons to his work, rather than forgetting about him, she tossed the magazines back into her canvas tote bag and headed home. If she was going to obsess about the man, she might as well be in her own surroundings.

As soon as she stepped inside, she spotted her cell phone on the kitchen table where she’d left it. She told herself that anything work related would be communicated by email. She reminded herself that her family would simply call the cottage. Only Rick was likely to leave a message on her cell-phone voice mail. There was no
reason on earth to pick up that phone and check messages, but naturally she did.

To her regret—or was it relief?—there were precisely fourteen messages on her voice mail, thirteen of them from Rick. Apparently there was going to be no escaping the man, after all, unless she gathered the courage to toss the phone into the bay. And since she seemed to get a little thrill just from hearing the increasing frustration in his low, sexy voice, she doubted the phone was going anywhere.

The last message, which had been left only minutes earlier, was from Ashley, and she sounded odd, a little less confident than usual.

Other than acknowledging that annoying little stutter-step of her heart at the sound of Rick’s voice, Maggie ignored his messages and called her sister on her private line. Ashley picked up at once.

“Hey, Ash, what’s up?”

“Well, hello there,” Ashley said a little too brightly. “Thanks for calling me back so quickly. I wasn’t sure you’d be checking your cell phone for messages, since you’re on vacation.”

Maggie groaned and sank down on the sofa. She knew what that odd tone and the cryptic remark about her vacation meant. “He’s there, isn’t he? Rick is in your office.”

“That’s correct. Today’s the day for surprises, all right.”

“Send him away,” Maggie told her urgently. “Whatever you do, Ashley, do not tell him where I am. Do not tell him I’m on the phone.”

“Yes, I’m doing my best to do exactly that,” Ashley agreed cheerfully.

Ashley mumbled something Maggie couldn’t understand. “What did you say?” Maggie asked her sister.

“She said I’m being too damn persistent,” Rick replied tersely.

There went that stutter-step of her heart again. “Oh,” Maggie said weakly. This was it. Her worst nightmare. Unless she found some way to toughen her resolve immediately, Rick was going charm her whereabouts out of her. Then he was going to track her down, and every one of her noble intentions about ending their doomed affair was going to go up in smoke. She had absolutely no willpower where he was concerned. He was more addictive than chocolate, and in her life that was saying something.

“Where are you, Maggie?” he asked, sounding as if his patience had already been tested beyond its limits. “Why did you take off?”

She ignored the questions and asked one of her own. “How did you find my sister?”

“You mentioned her a couple of times. She works for a high-profile law firm. It wasn’t all that tricky,” he said, a familiar wry amusement threading through his voice. He was clearly awfully damn proud of himself. “I meant,
why
did you go looking for her?” Maggie revised. “You know how to reach me if you’re that anxious to talk to me.”

“I know your number,” he corrected. “I can’t speak to you, though, unless you pick up. After leaving a dozen messages—”

“Thirteen,” she corrected, without thinking of the implication.

He chuckled. “Then you did get them.”

“Yes, I got them, but only a few minutes ago. Ashley’s seemed more urgent.”

“Then you did intend to call me back?” he asked skeptically.

“Eventually.”

“That’s what I figured. It wasn’t nearly soon enough to suit me. I decided I needed to be more proactive, so I came looking for your sister.”

“I’ll ask again—why?”

“To find out where you ran off to and why you left without a word to me.”

“I did not run off. I’m on vacation,” she said, sticking to her story.

“Do you usually take totally unscheduled vacations?”

“What makes you think this was unscheduled? I could have been planning it for months.”

“Were you?”

“No,” she admitted, “but you didn’t know that.”

“Actually I did. Veronica told me. She said this was highly unusual.”

“My assistant doesn’t know everything,” Maggie said defensively, because the truth was, she was not normally an impulsive person, except when it came to love. And that was a habit she was trying very hard to break. “Why does any of this matter to you?”

“Because something tells me that this sudden vacation has something to do with me.”

“Your ego needs a reality check.”

“Does it really? Okay, then, since you didn’t run off to avoid me, you won’t mind telling me where you are, so I can join you. I have a few days off.”

“As a matter of fact, I
do
mind,” she said emphatically, ignoring the fact that her blood had suddenly started humming with anticipation.

“Because you’re with another man?”

Maggie sighed. They both knew she wasn’t. She’d made the mistake of telling Rick it had been months since she’d dated anyone else. That stretch of celibacy had been her last drastic attempt to keep from making another mistake in the romance department. Sleeping with Rick had ruined a six-month track record she’d been very proud of.

“That’s not the issue,” she said. “I don’t want to see you.”

Rick chuckled. It was the laugh of a man who knew better. “Give me a couple of hours. I’ll bet I can make you change your mind. If I can’t, I’ll leave.”

It wouldn’t take him ten minutes, Maggie thought with self-derision. She had to keep him far, far away from Rose Cottage.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll call you when I get back. Maybe we can go out for drinks and catch up.”

She hung up before he could try to convince her to change her mind. She’d simply have to have faith that Ashley wouldn’t fall victim to Rick’s charm and draw him a blasted map.

It was dusk when a car pulled to a stop in the driveway at Rose Cottage. Filled with a sense of dread—and okay, maybe just a tiny little, traitorous
zing
of anticipation—Maggie peered out the window. Sure enough, Rick emerged from his low-slung Jaguar. Maggie’s pulse zipped straight into overdrive. Apparently her body hadn’t gotten the message that this man was bad for her. She couldn’t seem to drag herself away from the window. It had barely been a week since she’d last seen Rick, and she was drinking in the sight as if it had been months.

The man was seriously gorgeous. He moved like a sexy, predatory cat, radiating confidence and danger.

He was also the kind of low-key man who could carry off jeans and a T-shirt with a wrinkled dress jacket and move from work to a cocktail party and never appear out of place. Maybe it was because the faded jeans fit in a way that kept all eyes on his trim butt and excellent thighs. No one—no sane woman, at least—ever gave two figs what he was wearing. Not that he didn’t look fantastic in a tux, as well. He did. He’d accompanied Maggie to a black-tie event one night, and it had required all of her willpower not to attack him in the back of the limo he’d rented for the evening. She also happened to know for a fact that he looked pretty spectacular in nothing at all.

His brown, sun-streaked hair was a little too long and his jaw unshaven, but the careless look, too, suited him. The impression he exuded was one of total self-confidence, which, of course, he had. In spades, as a matter of fact. Who else would show up where he’d been told only a few hours ago that he was most definitely unwanted?

Resigned to dealing with him, Maggie opened the door and waited on the threshold. Rick grinned when he saw her.

“Hi, honey, I’m home.”

“I’m not your honey and this is absolutely not your home,” she said, blocking the way when he would have walked right in. She was trying really, really hard to muster the strength and indignation necessary to keep him on the other side of this door. Once he crossed the threshold, she could no longer be held accountable for her actions.

His grin never faltered. “Not happy to see me?”

“No.”

“Not even a tiny bit?”

“Absolutely not.”

He chuckled. “Liar.”

“I am not lying. How many ways do I have to say it?”

“Until you can do it without those telltale patches of red in your cheeks.”

“If my cheeks are red…” She could tell they were. Her skin was burning, in fact. “If they are, it’s because I find you infuriating. It takes a lot of nerve to come here after I told you not to.”

“Bravery should be rewarded, don’t you think?”

She had to fight to keep from smiling. The man was impossible, to say nothing of impossibly sexy.

“Go away, Rick. Please.”

His expression turned serious. “Only if you tell me why you’re so anxious to have me gone. Make me understand and I’ll go.”

She studied him skeptically. “Seriously? You’ll really go if I just tell you why I don’t want you here?”

“Promise,” he said solemnly. He even sketched a little cross over his heart.

Maggie regarded him with undisguised suspicion, but decided to take a chance that he would honor his promise. “Okay, then,” she said. “I don’t want you here because I don’t want to see you anymore.”

He nodded slowly. “In other words, it was great while it lasted, but it’s over, Rick.”

“Exactly,” she said, relieved that he’d caught on so quickly. “That was the rule from the very beginning, wasn’t it? Either of us could walk away at any time?”

He looked perplexed. “Did we discuss that?”

She thought back to the first night they’d tumbled into bed. There hadn’t been a lot of conversation, much
less any outlining of the rules of engagement. “It was understood,” she asserted loftily.

He shook his head. “I guess I missed that. Besides, I’m not buying your act,” he said. “You may not want me here, but it’s because you’re running scared, not because you don’t feel any desire for me.”

Of all the times in the world for a man to suddenly develop insight, it had to be now, Maggie thought, beginning to feel trapped and desperate. She had to make him leave before she did something totally insane and jumped right back into bed with him. Her hormones were all but pleading with her to cave now and damn the consequences.

“You said you’d take my word for it,” she protested. “You promised to go. I expect you to honor that.”

He shrugged. “I lied. Well, I didn’t exactly lie.”

“Yes, unless you turn around and walk away right this second, then you lied,” she corrected.

“No,” he insisted. “I just wasn’t clear enough. I want more than a two-second explanation. I want the truth, the whole unvarnished truth. You say it’s over, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Thank you.” She started to shut the door.

“Not so fast,” he said. “I still want to know
why
it’s over.”

“I doubt your ego can take it,” she said, seizing on an explanation that was likely to rattle him. “Are you sure you want to hear my reason?”

To her chagrin, he didn’t back down. If anything, he actually looked amused. “Try me.”

She searched for a delicate but unmistakable way to put it that would be guaranteed to take the wind out of his sails.

“You don’t do anything for me,” she said finally, man
aging to get the words out without tripping over the blatant lie.

Rather than looking insulted or even angry, he actually laughed. “Really?”

“Nothing,” she insisted. “No zip, no zing, nothing.”

“And it took how many times in my bed and yours for you to figure that out?”

“I was giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

“I see. Let me make sure I understand this. You’re not attracted to me, so you took off from Boston just to get away from me? That’s what you’re saying?”

She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded.