McGillivray's Mistress - By Anne McAllister Page 0,56
he stopped by the other night lookin’ for it,” Hugh went on cheerfully. “Good idea, really, giving it to you. No sense in keepin’ it in the bottom of the closet forever. You can’t catch anything with a net like that.”
On the contrary, Fiona thought grimly, he had caught her.
THE SUN WAS JUST SETTING as they landed.
“Happy now?” Molly asked as the plane bobbed in the water and she shut things down.
“Yeah,” Lachlan said, scanning the dock for Fiona. He’d been distracted and twitchy all day, preoccupied with thoughts of her. He’d have called her while he was at the Sandpiper, but by the time he’d had a spare minute, he knew she would have already headed off to the bakery.
When he had another chance just before Molly had taken him to Nassau for a meeting at the bank, he knew she’d still be serving lunches. And the entire afternoon, when he might have caught her at Carin’s, he was tied up with examining a property that had just come on the market. He’d ground his teeth and cracked his knuckles and tried to look attentive and interested. He just wanted to get home to her.
He’d met Molly at the airport, eager to leave, and was annoyed when his sister suggested staying in Nassau for the night to watch a tennis tournament, then maybe catch a movie.
“No reason to hurry back, is there?”
“Yes,” Lachlan had said through his teeth. “Let’s go.”
“Got a hot date, bro?” she’d teased.
He’d considered telling her to mind her own business, then changed his mind. What happened between him and Fiona was Molly’s business because it was real. It was serious. It was going to last.
And so he nodded. “That’s right.”
Molly’s eyes had widened and she’d stared at him, as if unsure whether or not he was kidding.
He stared her down.
“Whoa,” she said happily after a long moment. Then she’d hustled him to the plane. “Gotta get you home.”
And now they were home. And as he climbed into the raft he could see there were half a dozen people on the dock. But no Fiona.
Of course, he thought, lips twitching, she could be at home waiting for him in bed. He could handle that.
But before he could get off the raft, Suzette came purposefully toward him.
“Good. You’re back,” she said and started in with a list as long as his arm of things he needed to do at once.
“It can’t wait?”
“I wouldn’t be here if it could.”
Better to get them done now, so she wasn’t bothering him later. No one was going to bother him and Fiona later.
Sparing a lingering wishful glance across the water at Fiona’s house, he allowed Suzette to whisk him off to the Moonstone.
He tried calling Fiona on the way, but she didn’t answer.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said to Suzette, his mind still on Fiona. Maybe she was at one of her brothers’ places. Or maybe she’d gone to the Grouper with Carin and Nathan. He tried calling again. There was no reply.
It was almost eleven by the time he had all the letters signed, all the questions answered, all the issues resolved.
“That it?” he asked the minute Suzette showed any signs of slowing down.
“I think so.” She stifled a yawn. “Good night. See you in the morning.”
Lachlan was already heading for the door. It was late, he knew. Fiona might already have gone to bed. Maybe he should stay home, go see her in the morning. But even as he thought it, he knew he wasn’t going to. He’d spent the day thinking of Fiona and missing her. He wasn’t spending the night that way, too.
He wanted her to know he’d been thinking of her. In the ten minutes he’d had free today he’d dropped into a book shop and bought her a book on sculpture. He wanted to take it to her now.
He held it out eagerly when she finally opened the door. She didn’t smile. She looked as if she’d been crying.
Lachlan’s own smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
Fiona stared at him, then took the book and flung it in his face.
Instinctively he dodged. It hit him in the shoulder and thudded on to the porch. “What the hell—? What’s the matter with you?”
“I’m a damn fool, obviously!” She started to slam the door, but he caught it before she could and pushed inside as she whirled away from him.
“Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t here this morning. I had meetings. I—”
“I’m sorry you were here last night! I’d say