Kiss and Tell (5 page)

“The deal he’s working on is worth a million dollars.” Leila crossed her arms. “If you can sit there and tell me that
you
wouldn’t have blown off a weekend with your girlfriend for a chance to earn a million bucks, then, yes, you’re a better man than Elliot.”

“There was one night,” Simon mused, “when I would have given a million bucks to find my car keys. I had a Saturday-night date with Gloria, and I stayed a little too long. By the time I remembered I was meeting Susan for Sunday brunch, I couldn’t find the keys to my car. What a mess.”

“You would not have traded a million dollars for your car keys,” Leila scoffed.

“Oh yes, I would. You didn’t know Susan.”

“No way.” Leila shook her head in disbelief. “If someone had come up to you and said, ‘Here’s a million dollars. You can have that or your car keys,’ you honestly expect me to believe you would have turned down the money?”

“Well, maybe not,” Simon admitted. He scratched his head. “I guess there are a very few things someone would choose over a cool million bucks.”

“That’s rubbish,” Marsh said evenly.

He’d been quiet for so long, Leila had almost forgotten he was standing there.

“I can think of dozens, right off the bat,” he continued, sitting down across from her. “World peace. The end of hunger and starvation, a cure for cancer and AIDS. Shall I go on?”

“But that’s all unrealistic,” Leila protested. “Situations like that never arise. Sure, even Elliot would probably trade a million dollars for world peace. But he doesn’t have to worry about it. He’s never going to have to make that choice. It’s theoretical.”

Would
Elliot trade a million dollars for anything? Leila wasn’t absolutely positive. He’d grown up in a middle-class suburb of New York City, raised with the belief that money could buy the answer to any problem. He strove for, and achieved, the financial security his parents had never had. Money was his god and the monkey on his back. He both worshiped and cursed it, and no matter how much of it he had, he always wanted more.

Marsh, on the other hand, had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He had the attitude of the very wealthy. He’d always had money to burn, so he never hesitated to burn it. His lack of concern over financial matters had always infuriated Leila.

Marsh glanced at her as if he felt her studying him. His brown eyes were cool, his eyelids half-lowered as if he were relaxed, laid-back. Outside the window, on the beach, the quiet rush of the gentle Gulf waves murmured in the darkness.

“I’d gladly trade a million dollars,” Marsh said quietly, “for one—just one—of my mother’s smiles.”

His gaze swept in Leila’s direction, and this time he didn’t look away. She suddenly realized that he wasn’t relaxed at all. His eyelids were half-lowered to hide the inferno that was churning inside of him. She watched as Marsh leaned forward in his chair. In the bright overhead light, his angular face looked sharper, harsher, but no less handsome.

“I’d choose fertility for every couple in the world who want desperately to have a child,” he continued. “I’d choose a brand new pair of legs that walk and run and jump, instead of that damned mechanical chair I ordered for little Billy Monroe. I’d choose life…or just another chance to save the life of every single patient I’ve lost in the ER.” His voice shook slightly, and he stopped, looking down at the table in front of him. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again his voice was steady.

“And if you want even more realistic choices, how about this: I’d choose the opportunity to live and work in the one place in the world I think of as my home, to have patients who are also my neighbors and friends, to know that when I walk down the street I’m respected and cared about by the people I pass. And yes, you’re right, this was an actual choice I made several years ago. I turned down a job with a private practice in Boston that would have earned me quite a bit more than that million dollars by now. Down here on Sunrise Key, I may be living hand-to-mouth, but no one owns a piece of my soul.” He smiled at Leila. “Perhaps my heart, but not my soul.”

Leila was shocked. She hadn’t known any of that. She’d never stopped to consider what Marsh had given up to live on Sunrise Key. And she’d never heard him speak so openly, so honestly. She hadn’t realized he was capable of such heartfelt words.

Silence. Outside in the bushes, locusts chirped and whirred. On the beach, the waves continued their soft ebb and flow.

“Well,” Marsh said with a soft laugh, “I certainly killed
that
conversation, didn’t I?” He stood up, glancing at his watch. “It’s getting late. I have to head over to the Kavanaughs’ to check on Kim and the baby once more before bed.”

Marsh watched as Leila turned away and began straightening the papers on the dining room table. Well, that hadn’t gone too badly. He’d said some things he never would have dared say to her before, and she hadn’t run screaming from the room—or ridiculed him. She’d just stared at him in surprise, her eyes wide and violet blue and infinitely bottomless. He could have been pulled into her eyes and floated there for an eternity, and for several heart-stopping moments he had.

Do you want to come along to the Kavanaughs’?
Marsh wanted to ask her, but he couldn’t. It seemed a too blatantly obvious come-on. A moonlit night, a ride in Simon’s jeep along the quiet island streets…

“I’m going upstairs,” Leila announced, finally gathering up her notes. Her hair was charmingly rumpled, her blond curls mussed. “After I call Frankie, I’m going to bed.” She gave both Marsh and Simon a long, hard look. “You guys say one word about this ninja thing to anyone,
any
one, you’re dead men. Got it?”

Simon and Marsh nodded solemnly.

That seemed to satisfy Leila. “See you in the morning.”

“Good night,” Marsh said. She turned to leave the room, but he had to stop her. “Leila?”

He hadn’t been entirely honest. There was one more thing he would gladly trade a million dollars for.

She looked back at him, a question in her eyes.

“True love.”

She frowned, clearly confused.

“I’d choose true love,” Marsh said again, “over a million dollars. In fact, I’d trade a million dollars for even the mere hope of finding true love.” He smiled at the look of sudden comprehension on her face. There was more, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words:
If I were Elliot, I wouldn’t have stayed in New York this weekend. I would have gladly traded a million dollars to spend the weekend with you.

She nodded. “Good night,” she murmured.

As she left the room, he turned to find Simon watching him.

“I’m dying to see where this is going to go,” Simon said.

Marsh took a deep breath, letting it slowly out. “I’m just dying.”

FOUR

“G
OING TO THE
beach?” Marsh asked as he came into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Bright morning sunlight streamed in through the window.

Leila was wearing a short filmy sundress over her bathing suit. It was a two piece, in a bright blue-and-green pattern that was clearly visible underneath the white, gauzy fabric of her dress.

“Good guess,” she said, then drained her glass of juice.

“Simon up yet?” He leaned against the kitchen counter as he looked at Leila over the edge of his coffee cup.

Leila shot him a look, implying that his question was a ridiculous one.

“Right,” Marsh said. “He’s still asleep.”

She turned to pick up her beach bag and a towel.

“Mind if I tag along?” Marsh asked. “You know, to the beach?”

Surprised, Leila turned to look at him. He was wearing his bathing suit, too, she realized. Funny, she’d just assumed he’d be going in to his office.

“I’m taking some time off,” he told her, as if he could read her mind. “Of course, I’m on call for emergencies, but I’m taking the next few weeks easy. I have no scheduled appointments today. Tomorrow I’m only going in for a half day, and the day after I’m off again.”

He was watching her, and his eyes were positively warm. In fact, Leila felt if she looked at him for too long, she just might spontaneously combust.

“That’s…nice,” she said.

His bathing suit was neon orange with a funky black pattern. It had to be one of Simon’s since most of Marsh’s clothes had been destroyed in the fire, she remembered. Still, it looked good on him. It was short and showed off his long, muscular, tanned legs. He had nice legs—and she was staring at them, she realized suddenly.

She glanced up into his face again, only to find that his eyes were taking their own leisurely stroll up and down her legs.

Leila turned away, afraid he would see the expression on her face. She knew that she couldn’t hide the sudden wave of longing she felt—or the surprise she felt at the odd sensation of wanting.

That ninja and his high-voltage kisses had really thrown her emotions out of whack. If she was driven to staring at Marsh Devlin’s legs—nice as they might be—she was in worse shape than she’d thought.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Leila led the way down the steps from the deck and onto the beach. The sand was warm and felt delicious beneath her bare toes. She stopped walking to luxuriate in the sensation. Boy, she loved it there on Sunrise Key’s gorgeous beach.

Seabirds danced and floated on the cool breeze that was coming in directly off the sparkling blue-green Gulf water. The sky was the perfect shade of blue, with puffy white clouds that looked as if they had been drawn there. Sunlight was reflecting off the pure white sand.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she said with a sigh. “Like paradise.”

Marsh nodded. He was watching her again.

“Did you really turn down a high-paying job in Boston in order to live here?”

He drew a line in the sand with his toe. “Is that really so strange?”

“How could you just turn your back on all that money?”

“How could I not?”

Leila stared out at the ocean, more affected than she would have thought possible by the simplicity of his answer.

“The people I care most about in the world all live down here,” Marsh said. “Well, most of them, anyway. And like you said, it’s paradise.”

Leila still didn’t speak, didn’t move.

“Besides,” Marsh continued. “Six-figure salaries are way overrated.”

She looked at him then. “You still believe that? Even though you’re currently living hand-to-mouth?”

Marsh winced. “Ah, yes. I
did
mention something about that last night, didn’t I?”

“Simon says your account books are a mess. Will you let me take a look at them?”

“You’re supposed to be on vacation,” Marsh said.

“You’re helping me with my wild goose chase.” She started walking again, heading across the wide beach toward the lounge chairs that were near the edge of the water. “Let me help you, too.”

“I don’t think this is a wild goose chase.” Marsh followed her. “You know, finding your ninja. I think it’s a good idea.”

“You do.” The sea breeze lifted the edge of her skirt, and Marsh’s eyes followed.

“I’d just like to know one thing. Have you thought any more about what you intend to do if you actually find him?”

“Best-case scenario?” Leila asked, and he nodded. “With any luck, he’ll be awful, and that’ll burst the whole fantasy bubble. Then I can get on with my life.”

“Marry Elliot, in other words.”

“Yeah,” Leila said. “Maybe I’ll marry Elliot.”

Marsh was silent for a moment, and all Leila could hear was the sound their feet made in the sand.

“What if the bubble
isn’t
burst?” he asked. “What then?”

Leila shook her head. “I’m still not sure,” she admitted.

“Come on. What’s the best-case scenario if your ninja
isn’t
awful?” Marsh persisted.

“You mean, if he’s perfect?” Leila smiled. “He’s perfect, he’s madly in love with me, and he asks me—on the spot—to marry him. I, of course, accept, recognizing my true destiny when I see it.”

Marsh frowned slightly. “What if…” He cleared his throat. “What if he’s not
truly
perfect? I mean, what if he’s slightly less than perfect? Well, no, what I really mean is, what if he’s a whole lot less than perfect, but he still loves you madly, and all that? I mean, no one’s ever truly perfect…”

“What I meant was, if he’s perfect
for me.
” Leila put her bag on one of the lounge chairs. “You’re extremely interested in all this, aren’t you?”

“I’m concerned you’ll do something that you’ll end up regretting.”

Leila pulled her sundress over her head. “Well, that’s sweet, but I seriously doubt that finding this ninja is something I’m going to regret.”

“I meant marrying Elliot.”

He was watching her again, and Leila checked her bathing suit to make sure it was covering everything it was supposed to. Of course, there was nothing she had that he hadn’t already seen. He was a doctor, for crying out loud. Still, the look in his eyes was appreciative and extremely male.

“You look terrific,” Marsh said. “New suit?”

“Thanks.” Leila sat down on her chair and fished through her beach bag for her sunglasses and sunblock. “Yeah, it’s new.”

“I like it.” His approval warmed his already rich voice.

It was odd, but Leila couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to the beach with Marsh. She’d been returning to the island just about every six months or so for years and years—there must’ve been at least one time they both went to the beach and…

Marsh sat down in the other chair and pulled off his T-shirt. And Leila knew for certain that she hadn’t been to the beach with him in a very long time. Probably not since he was in college and she was in high school. Because she remembered him as a skinny kid, all ribs and shoulder blades and collarbones and elbows. But the person sitting next to her was neither skinny nor a kid. He was a man. He had muscles—tan, smooth, well-defined muscles. He even had hair on his chest.

Marsh took a pair of round mirror-lensed sunglasses from his fanny pack and put them on. His hair was a mess from pulling his shirt over his head, and the ocean breeze made it dance charmingly around his face, blowing a stray lock into his eyes and then sweeping it away. He smiled at her, one of his rare, relaxed grins, and the combination made him look about as much unlike the Marshall Devlin she thought she knew as possible. In fact, he looked like the kind of guy that, if she saw him across the room at a party, she’d pressure her host into introducing to her. His gaze locked with hers over the top of his sunglasses. Instant heat.

“Mind if I borrow your sunblock?” She handed him the bottle. His fingers brushed hers and she nearly dropped it, shocked by the sudden sensation of electricity. What was going on?

“Why aren’t you married?” she asked him, suddenly.

“Well, you lost me there. Usually I can follow your insane conversational tangents, but this one got away from me.”

“You’re a good-looking man,” Leila said bluntly. “On top of that, you’re a doctor. So why hasn’t some smart woman hooked you and reeled you in, like some giant, prize catch?”

“Good Lord, you make it sound so appealing.”

“I know why Simon isn’t married,” Leila said. “It’s because he’s still a child. And as long as he can manage to attract his sweet-young-things-du-jour, he’s never going to settle down. But you’re the type of guy who wants the whole package, you know, wife and kids, two-car garage, Irish setter named Sparky….?”

Marsh carefully applied sunblock to his shoulders and neck. Leila had the feeling that he was deciding how much—or which version—of the truth to tell her.

“You’re right. I want all that. I’m just not thoroughly convinced that it’s an attainable goal.” He looked out at the water, squinting despite his sunglasses. “I don’t know how much you know about me,” he added, glancing back at Leila, “but when I was about six, my parents went through a divorce. It was…bad.”

My God, Leila realized. He was telling her the truth. He was actually opening up—a little—to her.

He looked at her again. “Actually, it wasn’t bad, it was bloody awful. My mother was nearly destroyed. I don’t think she ever really recovered. And I couldn’t figure out what went wrong.” He shook his head. “Up to the point they split up, they seemed so much in love. But they couldn’t make it work.”

Leila didn’t know whether to stay silent and hope that he continued talking, or to urge him to tell her more. He was quiet for so long, she finally spoke. “I know divorce statistics are high, but some people still have marriages that last. It’s not impossible, Marsh.”

He took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. “I just keep thinking, if my parents couldn’t do it, how can I?”

“Because you’re not your parents.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Marsh smiled at her. It was a rueful smile, but still it made her feel as if the laws of gravity were temporarily suspended.

“Yo, Marsh!”

Leila and Marsh looked up to see Simon jogging toward them from the house. “Ben Sullivan just called. He needs you out at his place pronto. He’s got an emergency.”

“Human or other?” Marsh asked, already pulling on his T-shirt.

“Other.” Simon’s hair was standing straight up and he wore only a colorful pair of boxer shorts. It was clear he’d rolled directly out of bed to deliver this message. “One of his broodmares has the worst case of colic he’s ever seen. He apologized all over the place for interrupting your vacation, but he’s tried everything, and he’s desperate. I told him you’d be right there.”

“Care to come along for the ride?” Marsh asked Leila as he slipped his feet into his sneakers.

“It depends,” she said dryly. “Are we going to start arguing about having the windows up or down the minute I get into your car?”

“My car was in the garage under the house when it burned.”

“Oh,
no.
” Leila cringed.

“Oh, yes. I rode my bike in to the office that day. I’ve been borrowing Simon’s jeep until the insurance money comes through. The jeep has no doors, therefore it has no windows, and nothing we can argue about. If we get desperate, I suppose we could argue about which radio station to listen to.”

“Let me grab a pair of shorts and my sneakers,” Leila said.

“You’re going?” Simon asked. “With
Dev?
” Simon looked surprised.

Marsh looked impatient. He grabbed Leila by the shoulders and gently pushed her toward the house.

“Hurry. Get your things. I’ll be out front.”

Why
was
she going to the Sullivans’ with Marsh? Simon was still staring at her as if she’d undergone some kind of bizarre personality change. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen Nancy Sullivan,” Leila explained.

“Go,” Marsh said.

She went.

Leila leaned against the rough-hewn door to the big barn, watching Marsh examine Ben Sullivan’s mare.

The horse was clearly in agony, but Marsh touched it gently, talking to it in a calm, soothing voice.

“Gee, I wish he’d talk to
me
like that,” Nancy Sullivan said, coming up behind her. “But no, the man’s a walking ice cube. It’s that British chilliness, you know?”

“Hey, there you are.” Leila smiled. “Your brother said you were around here somewhere.”

“That’s me. Always around here somewhere. Long time, no see, stranger.”

“Yeah, it’s been at least a year,” Leila said. “You look great. How are you?”

In the barn, Marsh and Ben stripped off their T-shirts and kicked off their sneakers.

“Uh-oh.” Nancy pulled Leila out into the yard. “They’re going for the hose. This is
not
going to be pretty…despite Dr. Devlin’s obvious physical attributes. Is that man gorgeous, or what?”

Leila looked at Marsh, trying to see him through Nancy’s eyes. He
was
gorgeous, with all that tanned skin and those gleaming muscles. But what had Nancy said about him—he was a walking ice cube? Two days ago, Leila would have agreed. But lately he seemed to be 100 percent hot-blooded. Was it possible that the fire that burned down his house had somehow thawed him out? Or was she simply seeing him in a different light?