Seaspun Magic (2 page)

Suddenly she didn't want to go back inside the house. What would she do with herself after Rae fell asleep, on yet another long Saturday night with nothing but the winter wind for company? The thought of an evening knitting in front of the television struck her as so hopelessly dull that that alone was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes.

She couldn't pop in on her one neighbor, either, because Jill's four-year-old had developed appendicitis, with further complications, and two days ago had to be rushed off to Seattle. While Erin was in the hospital, Jill and her baby Lucy were staying with Arianne's mother in the city. Jill had promised to call her with more news tomorrow.

Arianne sighed to herself. She really didn't want another upheaval, another man in her life, now that it was finally calm. And yet, devoting her whole life to her son wasn't turning out to be completely satisfactory, either. She found herself wondering rather desperately, was this really all there was?

She'd have to learn to entertain herself, she concluded. Perhaps she'd become the world's best knitter. On second thought, though, one could only "knit one, purl two" for so long, before a primal scream edged up the back of her throat.

Arianne turned from the mesmerizing pull of a pink-and-gold-spangled horizon toward the house. Jill's place, to her right was covered in darkness. The naval fort, FortWorden, on her left, was dark, too, as always. She'd only seen it in use in the summer as a tourist attraction. It looked rather lonely now, so still in the blanketing night shadows.

Just as she began the walk to the house a car came around the hill from town, its headlights making a dazzling arch through the trees. It could only be coming to Jill's house, or hers, for the road was a dead end. Arianne stopped to watch its progress. The vehicle slowed at Jill's driveway.. .but didn't stop.

Arianne's heart thumped in quick gladness. Company!

But who could it be? Somebody selling hockey tickets for one of the minor leagues, most likely. She sighed again. She turned toward her house, in a hurry now to be warm. But hardly had she started than she stopped once more, a thought shocking her into a halt.

Jill had had an unusual booking last week, a bed and breakfast for one adult male. Not that that was unusual in itself; it was the time—the middle of winter! "To recuperate by the sea" was the reason given. Not knowing the exact date of her guest's arrival, Jill had asked Arianne to take in the invalid should he come while she was away in Seattle on Erin's emergency.

The car stopped at the top of the lane by the collection of garbage cans. On the gatepost right beside the car was the street number of her house, and after a fractional hesitation, the car eased into her lane. A second later she was bathed in the glare of headlights, and in a few minutes more the somewhat shabby vehicle came to a complete stop in front of the house.

Arianne hurried to catch up to it. When she reached it, the engine was off and the owner was stepping out onto the driveway.

Golden light poured out the windows of the house, illuminating them both. Arianne stared, taken aback. She had been expecting an elderly man. If this was her bed-and-breakfast guest, he wasn't nearly sick or old enough!

"Arianne Sawyer?" he inquired politely.

"Um...yes!" She stumbled over a suitable reply. He'd caught her unprepared. For the life of her she couldn't remember his name. Foreign sounding, she thought.

"I'm Leo Donev. Jill McKinly made new arrangements for me?"

"She, um, got ahold of you, then?" Arianne felt as if she were babbling.

"She left a message with my answering service. I hope her son is okay?"

"Well, yes, as far as I know. She's calling again tomorrow." There was a moment of unexpected silence. Cold gusts off the ocean ruffled his full head of hair. He wore a leather bomber jacket, very fine and expensive looking, a contrast to his shabby car. While crisp autumn leaves swirled around them, his glance slid down

her small shape, clad in only a sweater, jeans and incongruous plush pink slippers.

Taking a deep breath, Arianne gathered aplomb. But before she could say anything, Leo Donev hinted pleasantly, "Do you think we could go inside?"

With a touch of the jitters Arianne started forward. "Yes, it's freezing. Let's go in____"

Once at the bottom of the front stairs he took her arm casually, perhaps because he had little faith in the stability of her footwear, and the most subtle whiff of an enchanting men's cologne went wafting past her nose.

Badgered by Jill and wanting to help her friend in distress, Arianne had agreed to take in the invalid. Jill had pointed out that he did have good references and was sure not to stay too long. Besides, with Christmas on the way, the rather lucrative return was enticing. And the guest was willing to pay extra for an out-of-season stay.

It hadn't seemed like such a bad idea at the time. But as Arianne went up the stairs beside her guest, it struck her as absolutely awful! She should have insisted Jill reserve one of the beachside motels in town for him.

She had always vetoed the idea of a bed-and-breakfast business in her own home, although Jill kept trying to persuade her of its practicality. Privacy, however, meant everything to Arianne, and she had good reason for that attitude. Having perfect strangers invade her home was definitely not practical in her case. She took a sidelong assessing look at him through the downsweep of her long black lashes and had the strangest feeling that her life was suddenly going to change immeasurably.

Rae's protests at being left alone in his playpen for longer than he liked met them immediately upon opening the front door. Howling in frustration, he couldn't have sounded noisier or more difficult. Wincing, Arianne took a quick look at her guest's face. Would he decide a nice quiet hotel in town was more to his liking? Desperately she hoped he would.

But putting a couple of fingers to his lips, Leo Donev wolf-whistled louder than Rae was screaming. Miraculously silence settled on the house. Utter silence. Not even a whimper came from the direction of the kitchen. Staring with round astonished eyes at the stranger in her front hall, Arianne didn't know exactly what to say.

"Thank you," she finally murmured faintly.

He merely smiled.

"Come along and I'll introduce you." At last she was making sense. Arianne sighed in faint relief. From the kitchen, Rae still wasn't making a peep. "Leave your shoes on. I don't have many carpets and the floor gets cold...."

Bright black eyes as round as his mother's greeted them. Toys were strewn about, not one in the playpen. Fresh from his evening bath and already in pajamas, smelling sweetly clean, like baby powder, Rae presented an angelic picture. There wasn't a tear on his rosy face. It was hard to believe the tantrum of a minute ago had erupted from such a dimpled cherub.

His mother, however, wasn't taken in, and neither was her guest, it seemed. They both laughed, and then the child laughed, thinking himself a great success.

Bending down to rest one knee on the floor, Leo Donev didn't crowd the playpen or pat the boy or muss his hair. He just put himself at eye level and introduced himself. In reply to Arianne's prompting, taking his cue from the absence of fuss, Rae calmly enunciated his name.

"This kid is obviously not going to get lost." The bed-and-breakfast guest picked up a teddy bear and a green felt crocodile near him on the floor. He offered the bear to Rae, who took it after a thoughtful pause, keeping sharp eyes on the green crocodile that Leo was inspecting. Seeing that guest and baby had weathered the initial meeting, Arianne blew the curls off her brow.

"I've just made a fresh pot of coffee."

"I'd love a cup. Did Jill leave her register with you?"

"She left in such a hurry and I never thought to ask...." Arianne shrugged, feeling even more unprepared when she thought of the unmade guest bedroom upstairs...and the bathroom, decorated with her lingerie. Not more than an hour ago she'd done some hand washing of delicate items, which were now drying above the old-fashioned steam radiator. Damn. She would have to get up there before he did. Now she knew even more clearly why she hated the very idea of a bed and breakfast.

What in the world was she to do next, she wondered. Ask for money? Or did one ask for payment at the end of the stay? Should she quote him the rates? Why on earth hadn't she asked Jill what normal procedure was? Arianne kicked herself mentally and stared glumly at the stranger in her kitchen. Still down on one knee, he looked very much at home and relaxed, while she felt anything but.

He was used to children obviously. Rae had accepted him quite nonchalantly. Arianne wondered whether he was married and had children of his own. That was another thing she had forgotten to ask Jill.

Leaning against the old white porcelain sink, she studied Leo Donev for a moment more while he was engrossed in a discussion concerning the crocodile. Rae was talking away, motor mouth that he was, barely half his disclosures understandable. Yet the "invalid" seemed to be listening, all interest. He certainly didn't look ill to her!

The fine leather jacket, in the bright light of the kitchen, was neither gray nor black nor brown, but some indistinguishable color that was very elegant; the leather looked quite expensive, Arianne thought. He wore the jacket well, over close-fitting jeans and a thickly ribbed plain white cotton sweater. Arianne's ex mother-in-law, Mrs. Sutherland, had taught her to appreciate good quality clothing. The clincher to his simple outfit was a pair of yellow Wellingtons. He couldn't have been better dressed to suit a northwest country autumn; he fitted right in with the local "in" crowd.

He had to have a good eye to dress with such 6Ian, Arianne considered, taking a quick look around her kitchen. The large room was sparsely furnished, clean and orderly. Yet it was cheery, with the dishes shining in the antique sideboard and the rocking chair placed by the window. A large, secondhand wooden table was scrubbed and scarred from years of use. The six mismatched wooden chairs around it appeared inviting—to her, anyway. She wondered what Leo Donev thought of it all.

She had recently put new curtains up in the kitchen, a terrible extravagance, but the old lace sheers and delicate paisley flounces fitted the room's ambience perfectly and added a soft touch. She was glad now that she had spent so much more than planned on them. She glanced back at the fair head bent toward her child's dark curls.

Leo Donev's hair was the color of liquid honey, thick and fine and straight, shaped to suit him. Cut long, it brushed his collar. She caught his profile, the strong jaw and broad curve of his cheekbone. Flesh close to the bone, it was a lean profile that gave him a predatory look. Arianne wondered what had possessed her to agree to Jill's plan. Somehow, chitchatting with the baby, he managed to look dangerous.

And she now had to share her bathroom with this stranger, for the house boasted only one facility. Arianne had to admit she hated everything about the arrangement so far...everything except for the fact that he was utterly fascinating. She wasn't nearly so bored as she'd been just moments ago.

While she was studying him so single-mindedly he turned and saw her puzzled, rueful, exasperated stare and, staring right back for a second, smiled suddenly.

Her black eyes widened on him, and then her gaze fell to her slippers. How could she justify the fact that he'd owe her sixty-five dollars a day, every day of his stay? Sixty-five dollars! He had to pay that much to share a bathroom with her. It made no sense. Why didn't he stay in town and enjoy his very own tub! Sixty-five dollars seemed so astronomical, and it came with the possibility of a baby squawling all night.

Turning the crocodile over to its rightful owner, Leo Donev rose to his feet, and her kitchen seemed to shrink in size. Not that he was particularly tall—he was average in height—but his shoulders were broad and he was well built. Then, too, his presence was the kind that commanded attention and filled space.. .solid, like the rest of him.

Arianne felt absurdly like backing away, even though he hadn't moved; she probably would have but for the sink in her way.

A whimsical smile edged his lips as he regarded her unhappy demeanor. "I won't get in your way... and I pay by the week." Reaching into an inside pocket, he drew an envelope out of his jacket and handed it to her.

Flushing slightly in embarrassment, Arianne took the envelope, while he asked her to count the cash inside right then. She did. He was staying a week, she surmised from the bills enclosed. Well, that wasn't too terribly long, and if she and Jill split the profit they would both make a lovely extra bit for Christmas and—

"I'll have some of that coffee now, if I may."

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry—" Arianne didn't know why everything she said came out sounding so clumsy.
He must think I'm dreadfully scatterbrained
, she thought. If only he had called before his arrival. If only she'd been ready.... But for some reason she hadn't believed Jill's guest would show up before her return from Seattle. The possibility hadn't occurred to her until those headlights shone through the trees.

Placing a mug on a glass tray, adding sugar and cream and a plate of chocolate-chip cookies made by her cookie-mogul cousin, Mikey, Arianne collected her thoughts on the matter of what needed to be done to make her guest comfortable. Her guest, meanwhile, had started rambling around the kitchen. It was exactly the sort of thing she didn't want him doing. Since she hadn't expected company, she hadn't tidied up after herself and there was no knowing what might be left out in plain sight.

"Oh, this is beautiful!"

Arianne turned a little pale when she saw he'd found precisely what she had prayed he wouldn't. On the little shelf beside the rocking chair stood her crystal ball, where she'd left it earlier. She had been polishing it. Held up in one of his hands, it gleamed brilliantly, catching all the kitchen lights and sending them dancing everywhere.

"It's alive!" he exclaimed with a low laugh as he glanced her way. Then his smile vanished. Carefully he replaced the magnificent crystal ball on its small carved ebony stand. "I've never seen one that big..." he began. The heavy, perfect crystal was about as round as a cantaloupe. "I shouldn't have touched it. I'm sorry," he finished, and his eyes, a curious, light gray-green returned to her face and rested there.