Chapter Five
She didn’t know what to make of him. Alone, with the lamplight glowing gold, Lilah sat in the tower room, watching night fall gently over water and rock. And thought of Max. He wasn’t nearly as simple a man as she had believed at first—and as she was certain he believed of himself.
One moment he was shy and sweet and easily intimidated. The next he was as fierce as a Viking, the mild blue eyes electric, the poet’s mouth grim. The metamorphosis was as fascinating as it was baffling, and left Lilah off balance. It wasn’t a sensation she cared for.
After he had seen the man he called Hawkins, Max had all but dragged her to the car—muttering under his breath all the way—bundled her inside, then had driven off.
Her idea about following Hawkins had been briskly and violently vetoed.
Back at The Towers, he’d called the police, relating the information as calmly as he would list assigned reading for a student.
Then, in a typical male move, had powwowed with Sloan and Trent.
The authorities had not yet located Caufield’s boat, nor, from Max’s descriptions, had they identified either Caufield or Hawkins.
It was much too complicated, Lilah decided.
Thieves and aliases and international police.
She preferred the simple. Not the humdrum, she thought, but the simple.
Life had been anything but since the press had begun their love affair with the Calhoun emeralds, and things had become only more convoluted since Max had washed up on the beach.
But she was glad he had. She wasn’t sure why.
Certainly she’d never considered the shy and brainy sort her type.
It was true that she enjoyed men in general, simply for being men.
An offshoot, she supposed, from living in a female household most of her life.
But when she dated, she most often looked for fun and easy companionship.
Someone to dance with or to laugh with over a meal.
She’d always hoped she would fall in love with one of those carefree, uncomplicated men and start a carefree, uncomplicated life.
Sober college professors with outdated notions of chivalry and serious minds hardly met the qualifications.
Yet he was so sweet, she thought with a little smile. And when he kissed her, there was nothing sober or cerebral about it.
With a little sigh, she wondered just what she should do about Dr. Maxwell Quartermain.
“Hey.” C.C. poked her head through the doorway. “I thought I’d find you in here.”
“Then I must be becoming too predictable.” Happy to have company, Lilah curled up her legs to make room on the window seat. “What’s going on with you, Mrs. St. James?”
“Nearly finished the reconditioning on that Mustang.” She sighed as she sat.
“Lord, what a honey. I had an electrical system that gave me fits today, and two tune-ups.” An unaccustomed fatigue was dragging at her, making her close her eyes and think about an early night.
“Then all this excitement at home. Imagine, you bumping into one of the characters the cops are after.”
“The curse and blessing of small towns.”
“I cruised around a little before I came home.” C.C. rolled her tired shoulders. “Down to Hulls Cove and back.”
“You shouldn’t be poking around alone.”
“Just looking.” C.C. shrugged. “Anyway, I didn’t see anything. Our fearless men are out right now on search and destroy.”
A quick bolt of alarm shot into Lilah. “Max went with them?”
On a yawn, C.C. opened her eyes. “Sure. Suddenly, they’re the Three Musketeers. Is there anything more annoying than machismo?”
“Tooth decay,” Lilah said absently, but there were nerves bumping along in her system she didn’t care for. “I thought Max was going to stick to the research books.”
“Well, he’s one of the boys now.” She patted Lilah’s ankle. “Don’t worry, honey. They can handle themselves.”
“For heaven’s sake, he’s a history professor. What if they actually run into trouble?”
“He already has,” C.C. reminded her. “He’s tougher than he looks.”
“What makes you think so?” Unreasonably distressed, Lilah got up to pace. The unaccustomed show of energy had C.C. lifting a brow.
“The man jumped out of a boat in the middle of a storm and almost made it to shore, despite the fact he’d been grazed by a bullet. The next day, he was on his feet again—looking like hell, but on his feet. There’s a stubborn streak behind those quiet eyes. I like him.”
Restless, Lilah moved her shoulders. “Who doesn’t? He’s a likable man.”
“Well, with everything that Amanda found out—the wonder boy stuff—you’d expect him to be conceited, or stiff-necked. But he’s not. He’s sweet. Aunt Coco’s ready to adopt him.”
“He is sweet,” Lilah agreed as she sat again. “And I don’t want him to get hurt because of some misguided sense of gratitude.”
C.C. leaned forward to look into her sister’s eyes. There was more than casual concern in them, she thought, and smiled to herself. “Lilah, I know you’re the mystic in the family, but I’m getting definite vibes. Are you getting serious about Max?”
“Serious?” The word had Lilah’s nerves stretching. “Of course not. I’m fond of him, and I feel a certain responsibility toward him.” And when he kisses me, I go directly to meltdown. She frowned a little. “I enjoy him,” she slowly added.
“He’s very attractive.”
“You’re a married woman now, kiddo.”
“But not blind. There’s something appealing about all that intelligence, those romantic and scholarly looks.” She waited a beat. “Don’t you think?”
Lilah sat back. Her lips were curved again to match the amusement in her eyes. “Are you apprenticing with Aunt Coco as matchmaker?”
“Just checking. I guess I’m so happy I want everyone I love to feel the same way.”
“I am happy.” She took a long, limbering stretch. “I’m too lazy not to be.”
“Speaking of lazy, I feel like I could sleep for a week. Since Trent’s out playing Hardy Boys, I think I’ll go to bed.” C.C. started to rise when a wave of dizziness had her plopping down again. Lilah was up like a shot and bending over her.
“Hey. Hey, honey. Are you all right?”
“Got up too fast, that’s all.” As the light grayed, she lifted a hand to her spinning head. “I feel a little...”
Moving fast, Lilah shoved C.C.’s head between her knees. “Just breathe slow. Take it easy.”
“This is stupid.” But she did as she was told until the faintness passed. “I’m just overtired. Maybe I’m coming down with something, damn it.”
“Mmm.” Because she suspected just what C.C. had come down with, Lilah’s lips curved. “Tired? Have you been feeling sick?”
“Not really.” Steadier, C.C. straightened. “Out of sorts, I guess. A little queasy the past couple of mornings, that’s all.”
“Honey.” With a laugh, Lilah tapped her knuckles on her sister’s head. “Wake up and smell the baby powder.”
“Huh?”
“Hasn’t it occurred to you that you could be pregnant?”
“Pregnant?” The dark green eyes widened like saucers. “Pregnant? Me? But we’ve only been married a little over a month.”
Lilah laughed again and cupped C.C.’s face in her hands. “You haven’t spent all that time playing pinochle, have you?”
C.C.’s mouth opened and closed before she managed to form a word. “It just never crossed my mind.... A baby.” Her eyes changed, misting, softening. “Oh, Lilah.”
“Could be Trenton St. James IV.”
“A baby,” C.C. repeated, and laid a hand over her stomach in a gesture that was filled with awe and protectiveness. “Do you really think?”
“I really think.” She slid back on the seat to hug C.C. tight. “I don’t have to ask you how you feel about it. It’s all over your face.”
“Don’t say anything to anyone yet. I want to be sure.” Laughing, she squeezed Lilah against her. “Suddenly I don’t feel tired at all. I’ll call the doctor first thing in the morning. Or maybe I should pick up one of those tests from the drugstore. I could do both.”
Lilah let her ramble. Long after C.C. had gone, the echoes of her joy remained in the room.
It was what the tower needed, Lilah thought. That jolt of pure happiness. She stayed where she was, content now, watching the moon rise. Half-full, bone white, it hung in the sky and had her dreaming.
What would it be like, being with someone, smugly married, having a child growing inside you? Making a life with someone who would know you so well. Know every part of you and love you despite the flaws. Maybe because of them.
Lovely, she thought. It would be simply lovely. And if she had yet to find that for herself, she had only to look at C.C. and Amanda to know it could happen.
With some regret she switched off the light and started downstairs to her room. The house was quiet now. She imagined it must be at least midnight, and everyone had gone to bed. A wise choice, she mused, but she couldn’t seem to shake the restlessness.
To comfort herself, she indulged in a long, fragrant bath before slipping into her favorite robe. Those were the little things that always pleased her—hot, scented water, cool, thin silk. Still unsettled, she walked out onto the terrace to see if the night air would lull her.
It was much too romantic, she thought. The glitter of moonlight silvering the trees, the quiet whoosh of water on rock, the scents from the garden.
As she stood, a bird, as restless as she, began a lonely night song.
It made her long for something. For someone.
A touch, a whisper in the dark. An arm around her shoulders.
A mate.
Not just the physical, but the emotional, the spiritual partner. She had had men desire her and knew that could never be enough. There had to be someone who could look beyond the color of her hair or the shape of her face and into her heart.
Perhaps she was asking for too much, Lilah thought with a sigh. But wasn’t that better than asking for too little? In the meantime she would have to concentrate on other things and leave her heart in fate’s capricious hands.