Lead Me On (17 page)

Had he thought Henri would let him land? That a man that ruthless would hesitate at murdering a whole crew of men in a jealous rage?

What had Jack Kingsley thought in the instant when he saw the flash of the cannon on the upper balcony, felt the impact shudder through his ship? Scott turned at the wheel and a chill brushed his skin as he passed through a cold spot. He cast his light back over the wreckage, picturing the frantic crew, the black sky filled with violent bolts of lightning.

Kingsley had been helpless to return fire against a house filled with innocent people, Marguerite among them. His first mate had hollered at him to turn away, to try and escape, but he'd held his course, appearing intent on running the ship right onto the beach. Had it been an act of angry defiance from a man used to facing danger, or desperation to reach the woman he loved?

When a second blast ignited the cargo of gunpowder, Kingsley had shouted orders to abandon ship. But rather than join the crew racing for lifeboats, he'd headed toward his cabin. The first mate tried to stop him, but Jack had shouted that he wouldn't leave without the treasure, a mistake that cost him his life, since the back of the hold exploded as he was racing down the cabinway. The concussion from the blast had killed him instantly.

The first mate dragged his body onto a lifeboat, but many claimed his spirit remained behind. Whether it was trying to reach the riches hidden in his cabin or still trying to rescue Marguerite depended on who told the story.

The fact that he'd been running toward the treasure in his cabin certainly lent credence to the first theory. But what if sentiment rather than greed had sent him into that passageway? What if he'd been going back for the necklace?

Was that it, Jack?
Scott silently asked. Did you love her to the point you couldn't bear to lose even that small part of her?

The cold seeped into his muscles as he tried to imagine what Jack Kingsley had felt, tried to put himself in the man's place. An eerie ringing started in his ears, drowning out the swoosh of air through the regulator. The water pressure squeezed tighter about his chest as a frightening rush of grief and loss filled him.

And he knew, in that moment, exactly what Kingsley felt, as if the man's spirit had slipped into his body: a loss so devastating it defied description.

A hand touched his shoulder, and he jerked around as bubbles erupted from his mouth. Chloe's eyes widened behind her mask, and if he hadn't been sixty feet underwater, he'd have burst out laughing. Clearly he'd been thinking about ghosts way too much in the last few days.

Allison remained on the pier for several minutes before she turned and headed up the azalea-lined path to the house. The bulbs she'd planted in the flower beds to either side of the steps were starting to come up, providing a pretty splash of color at the top of the vivid green lawn. If she finished cleaning rooms early enough, maybe she'd have time to do a little gardening.

Reaching the steps, she saw Rory sitting in one of the veranda's wicker chairs with a glass of iced tea and a magazine. She hesitated with her foot on the first step, her hand on the stone rail. On any other occasion, she would have called out a greeting on her way to the front door, or even joined her sister to soak up the spring day for a few minutes before going in to clean rooms.

But things had been strained between her and her siblings since the night she'd spent with Scott. No one had said a word since her last flare-up with Adrian, but the subject hung in the air. With a sigh, she accepted that the burden of defusing the awkwardness lay on her shoulders.

She mounted the wide sweep of steps and headed for her sister. As she drew nearer, she saw Rory had a pen and was circling items in the magazine. Rory didn't read well, but she enjoyed flipping through magazines to look at the pictures.

"Hi," Alli offered tentatively. "Mind if I join you?"

Rory glanced up, and paused for the barest fraction of a second. "Of course not."

She took a seat in the wicker chair beside her sister, not sure how to proceed. "What are you doing?"

"Planning a wedding, if you can believe it." Rory laughed as she held up the magazine so Alli could see the cover of
Modern Bride
.

"Oh? Who's getting married?"

"Chance and me."

"But you're already married."

"That's what I keep telling him." Rory reached into the bag beside her for a handful of salted pecans. "He says after the baby comes, he wants us to have a real ceremony. Apparently he doesn't think the quickie service before the judge when he found out I was pregnant is sufficient. Oh!" Rory jumped, then patted her tummy. "Yes, we're talking about you."

Alli felt the familiar ripple of fear as she watched her sister talk to the baby nestled inside her, but she pushed it back down. "When did all this come about? The wedding, I mean."

"Oh, he's been badgering me about it for some time. Last night, I asked Adrian what he thought, and he said we should go for it."

"I see." Her sister had discussed it with their brother, but not with her.

Rory eyed her, apparently hearing the tinge of hurt in her voice. "What do you think?"

"You know I'm for whatever makes you happy. Do you want to get remarried?"

"I don't know." Her sister let out a sigh of frustration. "A part of me thinks it's silly. But then I think it might be fun to have a real service. As long as it's a very small service."

Alli nodded, knowing Rory had a phobia about being the center of attention in large groups, not that Rory let her fears hold her back. She plowed ahead with a courage Alli had always admired. "Well, if you decide to do it, what do you have in mind?"

"A garden wedding." Rory flipped to a dog-eared page and turned the magazine so Alli could see the two-page photo spread of a fairy-tale arbor covered in climbing roses and surrounded by pots of flowers. "We could build one of these over there beneath that stand of oaks. Maybe have the service on our first anniversary, which will give me time to get my figure back. Only ..." Worry lined Rory's face. "Will you help me with what to wear? You know I'm clueless about such things."

"I'd love to help however I can."

"Thank you." Rory's shoulders sagged with relief. "Adrian said he'd give me away. So, as long as we're getting all traditional, will you be my maid of honor?"

"Of course." Allison's heart squeezed.

"Great." Rory smiled. "Now, as for guests, I'd like to keep it to Chance's parents, Aunt Viv, if she can come, and Bobby and Paige—if you don't think it's weird for me to invite Chance's former girlfriend to our wedding."

"She invited all of us to her wedding," Alli pointed

out.

"Yeah, but that was a huge society affair with half of Galveston invited. Wasn't it hilarious, though, seeing all the country club set sitting all proper and stiff on the bride's side, then all of Bobby's drinking buddies and dockhands sitting on the groom's side?"

"It was." Allison nodded. "But what an awkward moment when the ushers asked us where we wanted to sit, since we're friends with both of them."

"At least we had Mr. Manners, Chance, there to smooth things over." Rory settled back with a sigh and popped another nut into her mouth. "Funny how all that worked out, don't you think? When I first met Paige, I hated her guts."

"When you first met Paige, she and Chance were practically engaged, so of course you hated her."

"True. But I never—not in a million years—would have imagined her falling for a total bad boy like Captain Bob."

"I don't know." Alli smiled slowly. "Bad boys have their charm."

"Apparently." Rory cocked her head, studying her. "Speaking of bad boys, can I ask you something?"

"What?" Alli went still, feeling the shift in mood.

"This thing between you and Scott. One minute you claim it's purely physical, then I see the two of you together, and there seems to be something more, something that goes beyond simple lust. So what's really going on?"

"We're friends. Sort of."

"Friends who sleep together."

"Not ongoing, it was just that one night."

"One night? Yeah, right." Rory let out a snort of laughter.

"I'm serious." Alli frowned at her sister. "We agreed that while he's staying here, we'd be nothing more than innkeeper and guest."

"And he's staying here how long?" Rory's eyebrows lifted.

"Three more weeks."

"Uh-huh." Rory nodded. "That's what I thought."

Alli straightened. "I'm not going to sleep with a guest right here at the inn. It wouldn't be proper."

"And Chance didn't mean to sleep with me at all. You can't get much more proper than Oliver Chancellor, and we all can see how long those good intentions lasted." She patted her tummy.

"What's going on between Scott and me isn't anything like that."

Rory's teasing turned to confusion. "Do you want it to be?"

"No! Heavens, no." Fear skittered through her heart at the mere thought of it. "I'm not interested in falling in love."

"Okay ..." The confusion deepened. "Do you want to sleep with him again?"

She opened her mouth to say no, but nothing came out. Did she want to sleep with him? Silly question—she mentally rolled her eyes—of course she wanted to sleep with him again. "It wouldn't be wise."

"There's a lot of things in life that aren't wise. That doesn't keep us from doing them." Rory hesitated. "Like me getting all shocked and telling you what you should and shouldn't do. I'm really sorry about that, and I hope you can forgive me."

"Rory ..." Alli stared at her. "I thought you were the one mad at me."

"I wasn't mad. I was stunned! I always pictured you settling down with some sweet, quiet guy. And while Scott might not be the most talkative guy in the world, there is nothing 'sweet' about that man."

"Actually, Scott is very sweet at times."

"Maybe," Rory conceded. "I still don't trust him, mostly because he's messing with my sister, but if you want to pursue whatever is going on between you two— even though you seem to think it's only sex—I say go for it."

"You're joking." Alli rocked back in her chair.

"I'm dead serious. Something wonderful and unexpected might come of it. Even if it doesn't, you were right when you said it's your life and Adrian and I should butt out. So that's what I'm going to do." She popped another nut into her mouth. "Unless he breaks your heart. Then I plan to chop him up into tiny little pieces and use him for shark chum."

"Well, you needn't worry. I have no intention of letting him get close enough to break my heart."

"If you insist." Rory grinned.

~ ~ ~

As the days passed, her conversation with Rory kept playing in the back of Alli's head. She refused to believe anything as dangerous as love would grow between her and Scott. They were too different. But what of the other: the thrilling lust that tingled through her whenever she so much as looked at the man? Or even thought about him, which she seemed to do constantly.

Would it really be unwise to sleep with Scott again? Assuming he even wanted to. The night she'd sat up with him to wait for news about Chloe, he'd expressed serious interest in "renegotiating" the terms of their one-night affair. Since then, though, his attitude seemed to have changed. Polite but distant described it best

Had she done something to turn him off? The fact that one night with her had apparently been enough after all hardly flattered her ego. Perhaps he was just respecting the boundary she'd set, but he could at least try a little bit to seduce her again.

Rearranging merchandise in the gift shop to make room for a new display of dolls, she thought about that night on the settee, remembered the way he'd kissed her. What would have happened if she hadn't stopped him? Would he have made love to her right there in the office? With her brother downstairs and the inn full of guests? The wicked images that played in her mind sent a shiver of excitement racing through her.

She closed her eyes and let the fantasy play out in her mind. Warmth curled down through her belly, pooling between her thighs.

"Hey, Allison."

With a squeak, she whirled around to find Chloe standing in the doorway. "Oh, Chloe. You startled me." She held a hand to her cheek, and prayed her thoughts didn't show on her face. "Did you need something?"

"No. I'm just bored. Uncle Scott is holed up in his room pounding away on the computer. I swear, if I died, it would take him a week to notice."

"Chloe, that's not true!" Allison gasped at such a statement.

The girl smirked at her. "You have no sense of humor, do you?"

"Oh." She frowned, having no idea what to say to that. But then she never knew what to say to Chloe. The girl put too many things into uncomfortable perspective. Alli had spent the last eleven years picturing the child she'd lost as a nameless infant. She didn't even know if that child had been a girl or boy, since the doctor had referred to it only as "the fetus," as if sensing she couldn't bear to know.

Truth was, if her baby had lived she'd be dealing with a kid barely younger than Chloe. The reality made her ache for what she'd lost—yet it also made her think of how much time she had spent grieving. Years had passed with her life on hold.

"I wanted to go to town, but I guess I'll have to wait till he takes a break." Chloe sauntered about the room, eyeing the tea sets as if viewing objects from another world. In profile, her face struck Alli as classically beautiful, even though she did her best to hide it beneath the ever-present ball cap, just as she hid her well-developed body with baggy T-shirts.

"So, um, how's your schoolwork coming?" Alli asked to make conversation. "Do you need to use the computer to e-mail anything today?"

"Later." The girl picked up a gardenia-scented candle to sniff. Scrunching up her nose, she set it down and tried another.

"You know ..." Alli said hesitantly. "If you're really bored, I could give you something to do."