away, unable to bear the tender smiles they were exchanging. Across the aisle, Bobby, once more buried in his paperwork, hadn’t even noticed.
When they touched down in Miami, Elissa breathed a sigh of relief. Sitting next to King and Bess had been utter torment, but now she could escape. She could go home to her parents and try to forget all about this. She didn’t ever want to see the two of them together again. If that meant selling her cottage, well... The thought was horrifying. She couldn’t bear it if she never saw King again! Her eyes filled with hot tears, and she swallowed them down before he could see them. How had this happened? They’d been friends. She almost wished he’d never touched her. She could almost hate him for making her so aware of him, of her feelings for him.
They cleared customs and immigration again, and Elissa stood a little apart while King said goodbye to Bobby and Bess.
“We need to get going,” he told them, “so we won’t wait to wave you off. I’ll be back to the ranch in a week or so. Check with Blake Donavan and make sure everything’s all right. He’s supposed to be looking out for me while my foreman’s on vacation.”
“Imagine Donavan having time to do that,” Bobby said with a laugh. “The last I heard, he was up to his ears trying to hold on to his own place after his uncle died. All those greedy cousins of his, filing lawsuits...”
King chuckled. “Donavan won, didn’t you hear? Hell of a businessman.”
“And a dish,” Bess said playfully, glancing surreptitiously at Bobby. “He’s never married, either. I wonder why not. Do you suppose he’s nursing some hopeless passion for someone?”
No one responded to Bess’s musings, but Elissa saw King’s face harden. Then he forced a smile as he shook Bobby’s hand. “Take care of yourself and Bess.”
“Sure, sure. Thought we might find some time to go horseback riding this weekend,” he added with a grin at Bess, who looked amazed. “Bess and I might pack a picnic lunch.”
“You on a picnic?” Bess murmured. “Do you go with or without your pocket calculator?”
“Don’t be catty, you sweet little thing,” Bobby said, chuckling. “See you, Elissa. King will have to bring you out sometime and show you the place.”
“That would be nice,” Elissa murmured politely.
Bess didn’t say goodbye to either of them, except to force a smile and wave as she walked ahead of Bobby down the terminal.
King watched her, his heart in his eyes. Elissa couldn’t bear that, so she picked up her carryall and began to walk toward the exit.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded, falling into step beside her to reach for her bag with an impatient hand.
“Home,” she replied. “There’s no need for you to come with me. You’re perfectly safe now. You can check into a hotel somewhere and—”
“I said I’d take you home,” he reminded her, his tone cool and authoritative. “Sit over there while I arrange about a car.”
She did, angrily, still wounded by having watched him with Bess. She had to get herself under control, she thought. It wouldn’t do to let him see how deeply involved with him she’d become.
She gave a brief thought to her parents and how they were going to react to having her home so unexpectedly. At least she didn’t have to worry about King’s meeting them; he’d probably be glad to let her off at the gate of their modest house outside Miami and rush off.
But when King pulled up at her parents’ beachfront house and surveyed the surrounding dunes and the waves of the Atlantic rolling lazily to shore behind it, he seemed in no hurry to leave. He gazed at the hibiscus lining the front walk, along with the graceful palms and a banana tree her mother had planted years before, took in the white front gate and the lounge furniture on the porch and remarked, “It reminds me of your cottage in Jamaica.”
“They’re similar. Well, thanks for the ride.” She started to get out of the car, but he clasped her wrist, then her fingers.
His eyes were very dark, looking into hers. Puzzled. Faintly disturbed. “You’ve been quiet. Too quiet.”
She shifted restlessly. She didn’t want him asking questions or making assumptions. “My parents aren’t expecting me,” she muttered. “I’m trying to figure out what to tell them.”
“Tell them a hurricane blew over your cottage,” he suggested, tongue in cheek.
“What a cheerful man