McGillivray's Mistress - By Anne McAllister Page 0,52

was gone, she gathered up the net and carried it into the water, then spread it out, rinsed it and folded it. She had washed the float as well by the time Lachlan returned in the dinghy.

He had a picnic hamper with him and an old blanket that he carried ashore and spread out beneath what shade there was from the brush and the palms. Then, as Fiona watched, he opened the hamper and began setting out containers of food.

“Conch salad,” he said as he set one down and then another. “Jerk chicken. Coconut shrimp. Breadfruit chips. Mango salsa—”

“Lachlan! What on earth? Where did you get all that?”

“Maddie made it.” She was the cook at the Moonstone. “I asked her for something to take along in case we got hungry.”

“And she sent a feast?” Fiona was flabbergasted.

“She’s practicing,” Lachlan said. “Come on. Sit down and dig in.” He was putting out plates and silverware as he spoke. “We’re experimenting with providing picnic lunches for the guests,” he told her. “Seeing what works. Consider yourself a guinea pig.” He grinned at her.

“A guinea pig, my foot,” Fiona muttered. But she sat. She was hungry. Sailing had made her hungry. Being out in the fresh air, swimming, digging in the sand—all of it—made her ravenous. So she ate.

It was wonderful. All of it. Lachlan opened a beer and offered her one, but she took a pineapple soda instead, then followed his lead and stretched out casually on the blanket.

And they talked.

He asked her about her sculpting and she told him what she was working on now. She asked him about the Sandpiper and he told her about the progress they were making there.

“It’s been a challenge, but I’d enjoy it more if I were doing it myself instead of having to hire it done.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

“Because I have things that keep me on Pelican Cay,” he said. “That’s why I like helping Hugh. I like banging with hammers,” he confessed. “I’ve never minded getting my hands dirty.”

And this was true, she realized. He had never simply thrown money into the restorations and renovations he had done on the Moonstone. And if he wasn’t doing the actual work on the Sandpiper and his other inns, he still, she was sure, had a hand in every decision, a finger in every pie.

He was a stickler for detail. That’s what he’d been doing on Eden when he found the net, he told her.

“I had heard there might be some good fieldstone back in the bush. We’ve been looking for some for the fireplaces. So I thought I’d check it out.”

“That’s why you were here?” Fiona asked, she looked up from drawing in the sand and slanted him a quick glance.

“That’s why,” Lachlan said. He looked her square in the eyes. “I didn’t bring anyone else here.”

“I wasn’t asking!” Fiona protested, though she couldn’t deny her relief at his words. She felt better. Happier. She smiled at him.

He smiled at her.

The sun beat down on her back. Perspiration trickled between her breasts. She could hear the blood pounding in her veins, and her heart thudding loudly in her chest.

“Swim?” Lachlan said and in one fluid movement rose to his feet. He held out a hand to her.

Nerveless, Fiona put out hers and he drew her to her feet. They stood there inches apart. She could see the individual grains of sand against the tan of his hair-roughened chest.

“C’mon,” he said, his voice husky. And, fingers still laced with hers, he drew her with him into the water.

They swam together lazily, out to the boat and around it, using sidestrokes so that their gazes locked and they could speak.

But they didn’t speak. They swam in wordless communion, their movements synchronized. And every now and then Fiona felt the brush of Lachlan’s foot on her calf or hers on his leg. They were fleeting touches. Nothing, really. And yet with every second her awareness grew, her breathing quickened, her sensitivity increased until even the feel of the water slipping over her made her tingle with anticipation.

“Want to build a sand castle?” Lachlan asked suddenly, his voice sounding ragged to her ears.

Fiona blinked and nearly sank. Build a sand castle? But—

But then she drew a shaky breath and nodded. She put a damper on her anticipation. But it didn’t go away. It was still there. Like a banked fire, it warmed her more than the afternoon sun as they sprawled on the sand and built a castle.

Lachlan