“My parents were very understanding and supportive.” He took a swallow of coffee and slowly lowered the mug. “But Sullivan went off like Mount Saint Helens.”
“I believe it. Harte Investments was your grandfather’s creation. Everyone around here knows what he went through to recover and build a new company after Aunt Claudia—” She broke off. “After Harte-Madison went under.”
He wrapped both hands around the mug. “Dad tried to shield me from the worst of the blast but no one could have suppressed that explosion. Sullivan and I went a few rounds before he finally realized that I wasn’t going to back down and change my mind.”
“It must have been a difficult time.”
“Yeah.” He took another sip of coffee. “But we got through it.”
“It’s a tribute to the strength of your family bonds.”
“Uh-huh.” He did not want to talk any more about that time in his life. It was tied up too closely with Amelia’s death. He glanced around the room. “Looks like you planned to stay here for a while.”
She raised one shoulder in a tiny shrug. “Plans change.”
He couldn’t think of anything to say to that so he tried another topic. “Heard you’ve been seeing Jeremy Seaton.”
“We’ve had dinner together a couple of times.” She sipped her coffee.
He looked at her. “Mind if I ask if there’s anything serious in that direction?”
She pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly. Thinking. “I would describe my relationship with Jeremy as friendly.”
“Friendly.” What the hell did friendly mean?
“Jeremy and I have a lot of interests in common.”
He nodded once. “The art thing. Jeremy paints.”
She gave him polite concern. “Is there a problem here?”
“You tell me.” He put his mug down with great care. “Is Jeremy going to have a problem with you and me having dinner tonight?”
“I doubt it.” She looked surprised by the question. “But if he says anything, I’ll explain the situation to him.”
“How, exactly, do you intend to explain it?”
“I’ll tell him that we’re just friends. He’ll understand.”
“Just friends,” he repeated neutrally.
“What else?” She put down her own mug and looked pointedly at the clock. “Good heavens, it’s getting late, isn’t it? I have to go into the gallery early tomorrow to frame some of the children’s pictures, and I’m sure you’re anxious to pick up Carson.”
“Kicking me out?”
“It’s been a long day,” she said by way of an apology and got to her feet.
“Sure.” He rose slowly, taking his time.
She handed him his black windbreaker and opened the door for him. Smiling all the while. Friendly.
He went outside onto the front porch. The squall was dying fast, leaving behind crisp, still-damp air.
“Drive carefully,” she said.
“I’ll do that.”
He pulled on his jacket but did not bother to fasten it. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and stood looking out into the night. He could hear the distant rumble of waves crashing against the bottom of the bluffs behind the cottage.
He turned slowly back to Octavia.
In the porch light, her hair glowed the color of the flames on the hearth inside. He could feel the magic that swirled around her.
He’d had enough. He knew now what was wrong with this picture.
“Something you should understand before we go any further here,” he said.
“What’s that?”
He took two steps back across the porch, closing the distance between them. He kept his hands in the pockets of his jacket, not trusting himself to touch her.
“Whatever else this turns out to be,” he said evenly, “it isn’t about being just friends.”
She blinked. Her lips parted but no words emerged.
Just as well because he did not want to talk.
He kissed her, hands still in his pockets, leaning forward a little to claim her mouth. She did not flinch or step back but he felt the shiver that went through her.
He deepened the kiss deliberately.
Her mouth softened under his. He got the feeling that she was tasting him; testing him, maybe. Or was it herself she was testing?
She made a tiny, unbelievably sexy little sound and his blood ran hot in his veins. His breathing thickened.
He raised his head slowly. Breaking off the kiss required a serious act of willpower.
“Definitely not just friends,” he said.
He turned away, went down the steps, and got into his car.
A short time later he drove into the newly paved, heavily landscaped parking lot at Dreamscape and slotted the BMW into the empty space next to Rafe’s Porsche. He glanced at his watch as he got out. It was after eleven. The restaurant had been closed for over an hour. The vehicles that remained in the lot belonged to the overnight guests. There were a number of them.
Dreamscape had been an immediate success from the first day of operation. In addition to tourists, the inn drew a steady clientele from the institute and Chamberlain College.
He walked up the steps of the wide veranda that surrounded the lower floor of the inn. The front door opened just as he reached out to lean on the little bell.
“Heard the engine,” Rafe said. “Figured it was you.” He stood aside to allow Nick into the front hall. “Want some coffee?”
“No, thanks. Just had some.” He nodded at the balding, middle-aged man who emerged from the office behind the front desk. “’Evening, Eddie.”
“Hello, Nick. Come to collect your boy?”
“Yes.”
“How was the hot date with the charming Miss Brightwell?” Rafe asked.
“No comment.”
Rafe gave him a commiserating look and closed the door. “That bad, huh? You know, I wondered if she was really your type.”
“No comment means no comment. I thought you Madisons were real big on a no-kiss-and-tell policy.”
“Hey, we’re family now, remember?” Rafe grinned. “I’m just trying to show a little brotherly interest in your personal affairs, that’s all.”
“Brotherly interest, my ass, you’re just—” He broke off at the sight of Hannah appearing in the opening that led to the central corridor and the solarium.
“About time you got here,” she said.
“It’s not that late,” Nick said, feeling oddly defensive. “Just because you old married folks go to bed early doesn’t mean the rest of us are obliged to keep the same boring hours.”
“Good point.” Rafe raised a brow. “It isn’t even midnight, Cinderella. What are you doing here this early? I told you we’d be happy to let Carson stay the night if you got lucky.”
Hannah turned on Rafe with a withering glare. “You told him that? You actually said something so extremely tacky?”
“He’s a Madison,” Nick reminded her. “He was born tacky. We can only pray that your classy Harte genes will overpower his unfortunate genetic inheritance when you two decide to start making babies.”
Hannah gave him an odd look. Rafe’s mouth curved but he refrained from comment. Nick got the feeling he was missing the joke.
“Well?” Hannah said in that tone of voice that meant she was deliberately changing the subject and everyone else had better go along. “How was the date with Octavia? Did you have a nice time? Where did you two have dinner?”
He studied his sister. There was something different about her lately. He hadn’t been able to put his finger on it but it was almost as though she harbored a special secret. Marriage definitely agreed with her, he thought. But, then, with the glaring exception of himself, it agreed with Hartes, in general.
“Her place,” he said neutrally.
“Oh, man,” Rafe muttered. “You went back to her place and she kicked you out before eleven o’clock. Not good.” He shook his head. “I’d be happy to give y
ou a little brotherly advice on how to behave yourself on a first date with a nice lady, Harte. Least I could do, you being family and all.”
“You can take your helpful dating advice down to the Total Eclipse Bar and Grill and stuff it where the sun don’t shine.”
“Touchy, are we? Okay, but it’s your loss, pal.”
He’d had enough, Nick decided. He looked at Hannah. “Got my son?”
“Sound asleep in the library.” Her expression softened. “Winston is keeping an eye on him.” She hesitated. “He seemed a little concerned about your relationship with Octavia.”
“Winston is concerned about my personal life?”
“Not my dog. Your son. He mentioned several times this evening that he was afraid you might make her mad.”
Rafe sighed. “Apparently even little Carson is aware of your lack of finesse with the ladies.”
“My son is first and foremost a Harte,” Nick said dryly. “His chief concern is making sure that nothing gets in the way of his current objective.”
“And that objective would be?”
“Getting his picture of Winston exhibited in the Children’s Art Show.”
“A worthy ambition,” Hannah murmured. “And I’m sure the portrait is stunning. Winston, after all, is an excellent subject. But what does your relationship with Octavia have to do with getting the picture exhibited?”
Nick grimaced. “Carson is afraid that if I annoy Octavia she might refuse to hang the portrait in the show.”
“A reasonable cause for anxiety under the circumstances,” Rafe said cheerfully.
Hannah looked startled. “Oh, I really don’t think she’d take out her hostility on a little boy. She isn’t the sort of person who would do that. Octavia is very nice.”
“So,” Rafe said a little too easily, “what, exactly, are you doing to annoy such a nice lady, Harte?”
“You know,” Nick said, taking another look at his watch, “it really is getting late, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Hannah said. She swung around on her heel and disappeared down the long, central hall.
Nick and Rafe followed her. They all came to a halt at the entrance to a comfortable, book-lined room. The dark expanse of the bay filled the space behind the windows. The library lights had been turned down low. Music played softly. A number of the comfortable, overstuffed chairs were occupied by guests who were sipping after-dinner cordials and coffee and talking quietly.
In the corner two small figures sprawled across a mound of pillows. Several children’s books were scattered on the rug beside them. Most of the stories featured dogs.
Nick crossed the room and looked down at Carson, who was dressed in jeans, running shoes, and a sweatshirt. The boy was sound asleep, one arm flung across Winston. The Schnauzer raised his head from his paws and regarded Nick with intelligent eyes.
“Thanks for looking after him, Winston. I’ll take over now.”
Nick scratched Winston behind the ears and then scooped up his son.
Relieved of his nanny duties for the evening, Winston got to his feet and stretched. He snuffled politely around Nick’s shoes and then trotted briskly toward Hannah.
Carson stirred a little and settled comfortably against Nick. He did not open his eyes. “Dad?”
“Time to go home.”
“You didn’t make her mad, did you?”
“I worked very hard not to make her mad.”
“Good.” Carson went back to sleep.
They all trooped down the hall to the front door and out onto the wide veranda. Winston vanished discreetly into the bushes. Hannah arranged Carson’s black wind-breaker—a miniature version of the one Nick wore—around the boy’s sleeping form.
“We’ve got some news,” she said softly.
“What’s that?” Nick asked.
“We’re pregnant.”
“Hey, that’s great.” He grinned and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Congratulations to both of you.”
“Thanks.”
Rafe put his arm around Hannah and pulled her close against his side. His pride and happiness were apparent. “You’re the first to know. We’ll start phoning everyone else in both families tomorrow.”
Nick smiled. “Nothing else like it, you know.”
“Yeah, sorta figured that,” Rafe said.
Nick looked down at Carson lying securely in his arms. “You just wish it was this easy to protect them forever.”
They stood there for a moment. No one spoke.
After a while Nick hugged his son a little more tightly to him and went down the steps. At the bottom he paused briefly and looked back. “Almost forgot. I’ve got a little news of my own.”
Hannah smiled encouragingly. “What?”
“Octavia Brightwell is related to our own local legend, Claudia Banner. Turns out that Claudia was her great-aunt.”
Hannah’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“What the hell is she doing here in Eclipse Bay?” Rafe asked.
“I don’t think she knows the answer to that one, herself. She said something about coming here to see if there was anything that could be done to mend the damage her great-aunt did. But I’ve got a feeling it’s more complicated.”
“What do you mean?” Hannah replied.
“From what I can tell, she’s been drifting since Claudia died a year and a half ago. No close family. No real roots anywhere. Coming here to repair the damage her aunt did gave her a goal. But she tells me that she plans to leave at the end of the summer because it’s clear to her that the Hartes and the Madisons have ended the feud all by themselves.”
“Yeah, the good times never last, do they?” Rafe said laconically. His expression turned serious. “Does my grandfather know who she is?”
“She said Sullivan and Mitchell have known since the night of Lillian’s show. Obviously they chose to keep the information to themselves.”
“Figures,” Rafe said.
They waited together on the veranda while Winston finished his business in the damp shrubbery. Hannah watched the BMW disappear into the night.
“What do you think is going on here?” she said after a while.
“Damned if I know.” Rafe wrapped his hands around the railing. “Maybe it’s like Nick said. Maybe Octavia came to Eclipse Bay to carry out her aunt’s dying wish and then discovered there was nothing to fix.”
“Nick is getting serious about her. I can tell. Octavia is different from the other women he’s been seeing in the past few years. He’s acting odd, too. I wonder if he’s given her The Talk yet?”
“Don’t know about that, but one thing we can say for sure. The curse has not yet been lifted. Nick didn’t stay the night at her place.”
“That business about the curse is absolute nonsense. The reason Nick never spends the night with any of his lady friends is because of Carson. He doesn’t like to leave him alone with a sitter all night.”
“That excuse doesn’t fly,” Rafe said flatly. “It’s true that Nick doesn’t leave Carson with sitters all night, but you know as well as I do that the kid stays overnight with family at times. Trust me, Nick wouldn’t have a serious problem arranging to remain in some woman’s bed until breakfast if that’s what he wanted to do. If you ask me, he’s avoiding it.”
“I suppose you’re right. Waking up with someone in the morning is a little different. More intimate, somehow. He’s probably afraid that if he spends the night, the lady in question might get the wrong idea in spite of The Talk. He’s done his best to avoid getting entangled in a real relationship since Amelia died.”
“It’s one thing to have hot sex and leave while it’s still dark,” Rafe agreed. “It’s another thing to face the lady across the breakfast table. Takes the relationship to a whole new level.”
Hannah smiled and patted her tummy. “Certainly had that effect on our relationship. But then, you can cook. That made a huge difference.”
Winston trotted
up the steps and kept going toward the front door. Rafe turned his head to watch the dog disappear inside the hall.
“Uh-oh,” he said.
“Something wrong?”
“Just realized that we left the door open.”
“So?”
“So Eddie is still at the front desk. He must have overheard everything we said when we talked to Nick a few minutes ago. Got a feeling he now knows just who Octavia Brightwell really is. Probably can’t wait to tell everyone down at the post office first thing tomorrow morning.”
Hannah groaned. “You’re right. Uh-oh.”
“What the heck. It was all bound to come out sooner or later. Not like there’s any way to keep a secret in Eclipse Bay, after all.”
“True.” Hannah nibbled on her lower lip for a moment. “All the same, I think I’ll give Octavia a call first thing in the morning and warn her. She’s an outsider. She won’t be prepared for what she’s going to walk into tomorrow.”
Rafe smiled. He said nothing.
She raised her brows. “What?”
“Just struck me that Octavia isn’t that much of an outsider.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s related to Claudia Banner, remember?” He tightened his arm around Hannah and steered her back toward the open door. “Her family has been involved in this thing from the beginning. Just like us Madisons and Hartes.”
chapter 7
All eyes turned toward her when she walked into the Incandescent Body bakery shortly before nine the next morning. And just as quickly shifted away again.
Even if Hannah had not been kind enough to give her a wake-up call and a warning, Octavia thought, she had been in Eclipse Bay long enough to know what this peculiar attention meant.
There was fresh gossip going around and she was the focus of it.
She had been well aware of what would happen if she accepted a date with Nick Harte, she reminded herself. And the fact that everyone now knew that she was related to the infamous Claudia Banner just added a whole lot of very hot spice to the stew that was now brewing in Eclipse Bay.
She paused just inside the doorway and drew a deep breath. Hartes and Madisons handled this kind of stuff routinely. Aunt Claudia wouldn’t have so much as flinched. If they could do it, so could she.