The Beekeeper's Ball: Bella Vista Chronicles Book 2 (21 page)

BOOK: The Beekeeper's Ball: Bella Vista Chronicles Book 2
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“Your first kiss was a disaster?” Isabel pictured entangled braces, bumping noses, the usual awkwardness.

“Yeah, I was so blown away that I stepped back...right off the porch into a hawthorn bush.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch is right. Don’t worry, though. I’ve been practicing.”

“Practicing what?”

“Kissing. Wanna check it out?” He made a smooching sound.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Obnoxious, she thought. He really was the most obnoxious guy. She had no business wanting to check it out, as he so gracefully put it. Despite his long list of professional credentials, he had the maturity level of a seventh grader. “That’s the most personal thing you’ve ever said about yourself.”

“This from a woman who watched me whip off my pants the first time we met.”

“Something else I’ve noticed about you is that you make a joke or sarcastic remark when things get too personal. I wonder why that is.”

“Oh, so now you’re psychoanalyzing me.”

“No, just making an observation. You’re free to tell me I’m wrong.”

“Look, I’m just not that interesting. I’m no Jack London, that’s for sure.”

She had an urge to confess that everything about him was interesting to her, that she wanted to hear more about kissing Linda Henselman and being a scooter mechanic. That when she was with him, she didn’t feel afraid—yes, she wanted to tell him that, but then he’d wonder why she didn’t like being alone with guys, why she was so guarded. At Andaluz, she had come close to explaining herself to him. Perhaps she would one day.

“Why not let me be the judge of how interesting you are?” she asked.

“Fine. I’m an open book.” He spread his arms wide.

“Very funny.”

“Ask me anything.”

“Tess told me you were married, and that your wife passed away.” She got it all out in a rush, as if the words had been waiting to escape.

His expression was completely neutral. The mountain breeze lifted his dark blond hair. “That’s not a question.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” She watched his face. Square-jawed, impassive. He gave away nothing.

“Thanks.”

“I’d like to hear more about her. That is, if it’s not too painful to speak of it.”

“No more painful than
not
speaking of it.”

“All right, then...?” She waited.

“Why, Miss Johansen, are you taking a personal interest in me?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Yes, I am, so sue me.” She softened her tone. “Seriously, I want to know.”

His jaw tightened visibly. He kept silent, staring at the ground, holding his arms crossed.

“Would this have anything to do with your nightmares?”

He dropped his arms to his sides. “It
is
my nightmare. Her name was Yasmin Nejem. I met her on assignment in Turkmenistan—heard of it?”

“Barely,” she admitted. “Something about the Gates of Hell?”

“That’s all most westerners know about Turkmenistan. It’s famous for having a crater of burning natural gas. The fire started when the Soviets caused a drilling accident fifty years ago, and it’s been burning ever since.” He rested his hands on his hips and looked at her. “I used to like telling people I met my wife at the Gates of Hell. After she was killed, it wasn’t funny anymore.”

“Mac, if you really don’t want to talk about it—”

“I can talk, or I can keep silent—it won’t change what happened.”

Isabel nodded, hearing the echo of Annelise’s wisdom in his words.

“Her father was a petroleum engineer and the subject of the article I was writing, and she was working for an NGO. There was a radical uprising, and we had to get the hell out. I, uh...okay, I married her because it was the only way I could think of to get both her and her father out. We had to be family. I figured there wouldn’t be a problem with the evacuation since we were married, but she and her father were detained and I was deported. I never saw her again. So when you say my wife passed away, it sounds like she went on some gentle voyage. The truth is, she had her throat slit while trying to bribe her way out of detention.”

Isabel felt a chill that had nothing to do with the mountain air. “I’m sorry, Mac. So sorry.”

He stuck his thumbs in the back pockets of his shorts and turned to look out at the long blue horizon. “It was a long time ago. But it still haunts me, every day.”

“You must have really loved her.”

“News flash. I
failed
her.”

No wonder he suffered from night panics. No wonder he didn’t seem eager to give his heart to anyone else. His heart was frozen in time, irrevocably bound to a person he could never be with again. Isabel wondered what he really wanted with
her,
why he kept coming on to her. Typical guy, she told herself, with a guy’s urges. And a frozen heart.

“Things that happened long ago make their mark, don’t they?” she said. When he didn’t answer, she added, “Thank you for telling me.”

“All you had to do was ask.” He flashed an ironic smile. “And here I thought I was going to cheer you up with a scooter ride.”

“You did,” she said. “I mean, you
are.
Oh, my gosh, I don’t mean that. It’s horrible, what happened to your wife and it didn’t cheer me up one bit. I would never think—”

“Shh.” He pressed his thumb softly against her lips. “I get it, Isabel. I do.”

His gentle touch both surprised and tantalized her. Flustered by her reaction, she moved away from him.

“Listen,” he said, “I was living a different life back then. I was a different person. It’s true that I’ll carry that with me forever, but I moved ahead with my life.”

“Did you? Honestly?”

“It wasn’t as easy as I’m making it sound, but, yeah. Isabel, we’re here now, and that’s all we have, and just because these shitty things happened in the past... It’s no reason to ignore what’s right in front of us.”

“And that is...?” She felt the color flare in her cheeks.

He grinned, his gaze touching her like a physical caress. “You know. We both know.”

“Stop it.”

“Why should we? We’re single, we’re attracted to each other—”

“And we’ll end up making a mess of things, and what’s the point of that?” she demanded.

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but then he simply turned away. He took a few pictures of the area, then slid the phone into his pocket. “We’ve still got half a tank in this thing. Show me something else.”

“We should get back. We’ve both got work to do.”

“This is work,” he said. “It’s research.”

“That’s all I am to you,” she said. “Research.”

“Yep, that’s all. One thing’s for sure, after finding this scooter, I want to know more about your mother.”

“For my grandfather’s story?”

“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe for you.”

Something passed between them, a fleeting feeling, undeniably intense. For a crazy moment, she felt like touching him, perhaps giving him a hug. Then she smiled as an idea entered her mind. “There’s something on the way back down the mountain. It’s a little side trip off the main road. I think you’ll like it.”

“Great,” he said. “Let’s go.”

She felt more natural with him now, and less self-conscious as she circled her arms around his waist. About halfway down the mountain, where the oak forest grew thick, she pointed out an unmarked turn-off that led to a rugged trail. “We’ll have to hike in, but it’ll only take about five minutes.” As she led the way along the wooded path, she tried to remember the last time she’d come here. Or the last time she’d done anything but devote her day to the cooking school and to Tess’s wedding. She couldn’t remember.

The path intersected with a rushing stream and then connected with a rock-rimmed spring. “It’s called Mystic Creek Springs. Not many people know about it,” she said. “Only the locals.”

“Pretty,” he said. “I like the natural pool.”

“You’re going to like it even more when you try the water.”

He bent and scooped his hand into the crystal clear water, and when he looked up at her, his grin was wreathed in wonder. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Not kidding you.”

“It’s
hot.

“A hundred and two degrees year round, or so I’ve heard.”

“It’s a freaking natural hot springs.”

“Right here in the wilderness.”

“Damn. I
love
hot springs.”

“There are a lot of them around here,” she said.

He stood up and peeled off his shirt.

Her heart skipped a beat. “What are you doing?”

Then he kicked off his flip-flops , peeled off the knee brace and shucked down his shorts. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

She tried to tear her gaze away. “Mac—”

“You can’t bring me to a natural hot springs and not expect me to get in,” he explained, his tone utterly reasonable. He lowered himself into the pool. “Ahh, that’s magic.”

“I didn’t think—”

He surged over to her through the waist-deep water and took her hand. “That’s good. Don’t think. Just get in.”

“Absolutely not.” Yet to her surprise, she didn’t mind that he’d taken hold of her hand. She liked it. A lot. It had been a long time since a man had taken her hand and she’d liked it.

“Listen, Isabel, because I mean what I say. You can either peel your clothes off and get in the water with me, or I’ll pull you in fully dressed, and you’ll have to ride home soaked to the skin. Those are the only alternatives.”

“Forget it.” She pulled her hand away from his, even though the warm, clear water looked tempting. “I’ll wait for you at the scooter.”

“Chicken,” he said. “What are you afraid of?”

Everything.

She sniffed. “I just don’t think I’m prepared to get naked with you. Under any circumstances.”

“Come on. What’s the worst thing that can happen?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “Tell you what. I’ll turn my back. I’ll stare straight at that tree behind me, and I won’t look until you’re up to your neck in the water. Scout’s honor.”

She knew she was being a baby, making an issue of this. And hadn’t she just decided to challenge herself more, to be less afraid? Here was a perfect opportunity to do something way out of her comfort zone. She offered a curt nod. “Turn your back.”

He affably complied, and she slipped off her skirt and panties, and then her camisole top, and quickly immersed herself in the warm, rushing water. He was right, the hot spring felt like heaven. She slid deeper and leaned against a flat rock. “Okay,” she said.

He turned, churning up the water. “One of these days, we’re going to do this again, and I’m not going to be a gentleman.”

His words should have offended her, but instead, she felt a pulse of excitement. “You’re already not a gentleman.”

He touched his hand to his chest. His very muscular chest. “Hey. I’m wounded.”

He didn’t look wounded. As he leaned back into the warm current, he kept staring at her. She sank down even deeper, up to her chin, getting her hair waterlogged. “What?” she demanded, unable to read his expression.

“I’ve got a confession to make.”

“What’s that?”

“When you took off your skirt, I peeked.”

“Of course you did. Why am I not surprised?” She scowled and scooted farther away from him. “You said ‘Scout’s honor.’”

“Yeah, but I never said I was a Scout.” He clasped his hands together and squirted a stream of water at her. “I wanted to see for myself.”

She wiped the water from her eyes. “See what?”

“How you’re managing to get around with that stick up your ass.”

She surged toward him, splashing a wave of water in his face. “Oh, my gosh, why did I think bringing you here was a good idea?”

He opened his arms, embracing the splashing against his chest. “It was a great idea. I love it here. I even like being with you. And just so you know, you have a really nice butt.”

“Oh, I’m so flattered,” she said, scowling at him. “It’s always nice to hear that someone thinks I have a stick up my ass.”

“I was just joking,” he said, then mumbled, “kind of.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, ‘kind of’?”

“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met,” he said.

She could say the same about him, but she didn’t.

“I mean that in a good way. Don’t be so suspicious.”

“It’s just that you’re extremely good at backhanded compliments.” She fluttered her hand through the soft, clear water.

“Take it easy. All I’m saying is I’d like to get to know you better.”

“You’re here for a job,” she pointed out. “And then you’re gone.”

“Which makes me the perfect guy for you.”

* * *

As he brought the scooter back to the machine shop, Mac found himself liking this assignment more than ever.

Isabel was a surprise. There were depths to her he wanted to understand, and maybe, just maybe, she would let him. She was skittish, though, not exactly distrustful, but protective of herself. At the mountaintop, she’d given him a glimpse of the girl she’d been, growing up in a lush and sheltered place. At the hot springs, he’d had a glimpse of her that was going to haunt his dreams. Yes, he’d looked. Of course he’d looked. He was only human. Under that long, printed dress, which she seemed to wear as body armor, was a figure that nearly made him groan aloud, just remembering.

Oblivious of his thoughts, Isabel dismounted and shaded her eyes toward the slope where the beehives were. The girl she’d hired, Jamie, was up there working away.

“You look worried,” he said, observing her frown. Even frowning, she was wildly attractive, with her dark eyebrows and full, bowed lips.

“I am,” Isabel said softly. “Jamie’s a remarkable girl—emphasis on
girl.
How is she going to cope with having a baby?”

“Have you asked her?”

“No, but I intend to. For example, I’m pretty sure she hasn’t seen a doctor yet. So that’s going to be my first step with her. It’s incredibly important, but I don’t want to scare her off by coming across as pushy. She seems, I don’t know, keyed up, I guess. I feel as if I need to win her trust.”

“You gave her a roof over her head. A job. I bet she already trusts you.”

“When the time is right, I’m sure we’ll have a big talk.”

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