Harbor Nights (24 page)

Ned slowly lowered himself on the bed next to her. He gently cupped her chin. “I love you, Norah.” He kissed her lightly. “That makes you one very special woman.”

Tears filled her eyes. “You do?”

Ned frowned and tenderly wiped at the tear rolling down her cheek. “This upsets you?”

She shook her head. “It makes me very happy.” She looked into his brown eyes and saw the truth there. Ned did love her. She wanted to remember this moment, this slice of time for the rest of her life.

“Why?”

“Because I happen to love you back.” She watched as joy and wonder lit Ned's rugged face. She reached up and scraped a fingernail down his jaw and then outlined his smiling mouth.

He captured her finger. “I really need to shave, Norah. I don't want to mark you all up.”

“What you really need to do is kiss me.” She snuggled up closer as Ned sucked her finger into his mouth. She felt the pull of his mouth clear down to the junction of her thighs.

Ned grabbed her hand and released her finger. His lips nibbled on the inside of her wrist where her pulse was thudding wildly. “Now that, I can promise you, I'll do.”

She slid her leg in between his and pressed her thigh against his swollen desire. She liked the contrast between their legs. Hers were smooth from just being shaved, while his were hairy. The jutting of his arousal nudged her stomach. “What else can you promise?”

She had a feeling that Ned was really close to the edge. She was half tempted to see how far she could push him before he tumbled over the ledge.

Ned rolled her onto her back and grinned down at her. “I can promise to make you scream.” He captured both of her hands and raised them above her head. Ned's mouth trailed down her neck, and rough whiskers nuzzled the valley between her breasts.

She liked this game. She wiggled her hips and laughed with delight. “Betcha you can't.”

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Ned held her close and chuckled softly. Norah was almost asleep. “I do believe I won that bet hands down.”

Norah's fingers pinched his side.

“Ouch!” He rubbed the spot. “Well, I did.” He couldn't believe how loud she had screamed when he'd finally allowed her to climax. Of course, there was no way he was admitting that he had been the one who couldn't hold out another moment longer.

“It's not polite to point that out to a lady.” Norah turned her back on him, bunched up a pillow, and then buried her face in it.

“A lady wouldn't have begged me to do those things you wanted me to do.” He pulled her into his arms and grinned as her bare little bottom wiggled against him. Norah had blown him away in more ways than one.

“Cretin.” There was a smile in her voice.

He kissed the back of her neck and chuckled when she squirmed some more. “This cretin has to get up at four in the morning.”

Norah groaned and tried to pull the pillow over her head.

“What time do you want me to set the alarm for you?” His hand stroked the gentle curve of her hip. “I don't expect you to get up with me.”

“Seven?”

“Seven it is.” His lips nuzzled the back of her neck again just to feel her wiggle. “Help yourself to the shower, food, coffee, and anything else you might want.”

“Where do you keep the family silver?”

He playfully swatted her bottom. “Brat.” He could feel her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “You'll be here for dinner tomorrow night?” He needed to get up and go downstairs to shut off the lights and let Flipper out one last time. For now, he was content to stay where he was until she fell asleep.

“My mom's expecting me. Why don't you come over there for dinner?” Norah gave a big yawn. “About six, six-thirty?”

“I'll be there.” He still didn't know why Norah had changed her mind and decided to spend the night. Not that he was complaining. It was going to be a little awkward seeing her mother tomorrow night, but there was no getting around that one.

Joanna Stevens would just have to understand and accept the fact that her daughter was going to be spending an awful lot of nights over here if he had any say in the matter. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if it turned into a permanent arrangement complete with a hall rental and a name change.

 

 

Norah looked down at the notepad in her lap and wanted to cry. It wasn't fair. Her latest assignment was guaranteed to push Ned's buttons. Ned might accept an attack on his job and livelihood, but he'd come up swinging against an attack on his brother's dream.

“I take it you didn't know Matthew Porter wants the property?” Millicent Wyndham frowned.

“No one made me aware of that fact before this interview.” She had to wonder if Thomas Belanger, her boss, had known when he'd assigned her the next topic for her “Views From the Other Side” column. Tom knew she was dating Ned.

“I'm the one who called Thomas and asked for this particular article to be written.” Millicent slowly stroked the Siamese cat lying across her lap. “You've done some wonderful columns, Norah. You're factual and informative, but more importantly, you make people think. The residents of Misty Harbor need to think about not only their future but also the town's future.”

“So you think having a huge hotel built right next to the lighthouse is a good thing?” She couldn't believe this. All week long everything between her and Ned had been going great. She'd spent more nights in his bed than in her own. Oh and what nights they had been.

The cat jumped down and stalked away. “I don't recall saying that.” Millicent carefully poured them each a cup of tea. “Just about every person in town is against the hotel being built. I just want to make sure they fully understand what they might be giving up.” Millicent held up the sterling silver spoon. “Sugar?”

“Two, please.” She glanced down at the blank notepad in her lap. So far, she hadn't written one word.

Millicent held up the creamer. “It's real cream, not milk.”

“No, thank you.” The antique silver tea set before them probably cost more than her car. “How about we start from the beginning. How does one go about owning a lighthouse?”

“Working lighthouses, which are getting fewer by the years, are operated by the U.S. Coast Guard. Misty Harbor Lighthouse, while it still can work some of the time, isn't operational. Modern boats are equipped with advanced electronic navigational aids. They don't require lighthouses to guide them into the harbors.”

“So the lighthouse is just for show?”

“Tourists expect lighthouses on our coast. They hold a lot of sentimental and historical value.” Millicent handed her a porcelain cup and saucer with miniature pink roses all over it that was filled with hot tea. “Back in 1960 when the lighthouse was no longer required, it was given to the town. Problem was that the town couldn't afford its upkeep. It sits on twenty acres of wild and windy terrain. The town wanted to sell it for the tax revenue it would bring. To prevent it from being destroyed by someone rich enough to tear it down and build a house up there, my late husband, Jefferson, purchased it.”

“So you've been paying the property taxes on the land and the lighthouse all these years?” Millicent Wyndham, who appeared to be in her late sixties or early seventies, was Misty Harbor's town monarch. She didn't appear to be hurting for money, but it still seemed like a lot of expense to her for nothing in return.

“Yes.” Millicent took a sip of tea and then held the cup and saucer elegantly in her hand. “Jefferson and I never had any children of our own. We considered Misty Harbor our child and tended to spoil the residents. A fact I'm now worried about.”

“From what Thomas told me, a hotel chain contacted you and offered to buy the lighthouse and the surrounding acreage.”

“True. I hadn't considered selling it until I received that letter. Matthew made it known years ago that when I was ready to sell, I was to think of him first.”

“I'm sure it must be worth quite a lot of money.” Twenty acres on the coast of Maine. Her mind had a hard time wrapping itself around all those zeros. “So, why the change of mind after all these years?”

“I'm getting older.” Millicent gave her a polite smile when she began to protest that statement. “I'll be seventy-four in a couple of months, and no one lives forever.” Millicent placed her almost full cup back on the tray. “Which leaves me with the task of dividing up my worldly possessions and making a will. Since I have no immediate family, it's only logical that the town will be my major beneficiary.”

“So why not leave the lighthouse to the town?” Made perfect sense to her.

“If I did that, the town would lose out on a big chunk of taxes and be saddled with the added expense of lawn care, maintenance on the building and plowing. It would become a burden.”

“I hadn't thought of that.” She put her cup back on the tray and started taking notes. There definitely was a column here.

“Jefferson and I already donated the land that is now the town square, the huge gazebo, and the playground. Everyone in town gets to enjoy it, and the maintenance and upkeep are figured into the town's budget. One of the local churches built most of the playground equipment. The volunteer firemen built the gazebo, and they repaint it when it's needed. Even the Women's Guild does a lot of the flower planting and gardening.”

She scribbled faster. “I've seen the town square. It's gorgeous.” A few quick notes were added. “That was very generous of you and your late husband.”

“We didn't do it to be generous, and I would really rather you didn't mention it in your column. I'm more concerned about the offer I received from the hotel chain. It's a substantial amount of money, plus as part of the agreement, they will promise not to tear down the lighthouse. They even offered to restore it and make it accessible to their guests. It would be a big draw.”

“Makes sense.” She wondered if Millicent's mind had already been made up and if she was using her column to explain her decision to the town.

“I could use the profits from the sale to help fund another college scholarship for one of the local kids. I set one up a couple months ago, but I'm sure two scholarships wouldn't hurt.”

Norah sat back in her chair and ignored the pad on her lap. “You've already made up your mind, haven't you?” No sense doing the column if it was a done deal.

“No.” Millicent smiled and relaxed. “In this folder”—she picked up the folder that had been lying on the coffee table next to the tray and handed it to Norah—“are copies of what the hotel chain sent me.”

Norah quickly flipped through the pages. Most were letters. There were a few drawings.

“They've been doing their homework, Norah. Facts, figures, and projections that will make your head spin. All it did for me was give me a headache.”

“I like facts, figures, and even projections.” She glanced at a pencil drawing of what a world-renowned hotel chain thought a three-story, one-hundred-room hotel should look like when it was built next to a five-story lighthouse. She wasn't impressed.

“Tom's a good friend of mine.” Millicent smiled as her cat jumped back up into her lap. “There was a condition on you doing this column for next week's edition.”

“That would be?” She wasn't fond of conditions, especially when they pertained to her work.

“The following week you must write the other side of the story. You must tell Matthew Porter's story.”

“I didn't even know Matthew wanted the property and the lighthouse.” She couldn't imagine where Matthew was going to come up with that kind of money.

“He's made no secret of it, Norah. He wants to restore the lighthouse himself and open it up to visitors. He also wants to rebuild from the original plans the lighthouse keeper's house. Matthew has already acquired those plans and a few ancient photographs to work from.”

“Is he going to live in the house?” She had no idea where Matthew was living now.

“I believe so. I think on the other end of the property, he wants to build his workshop and storage for his business.”

“Will he be able to afford the taxes and all if he does that?” Maybe there was a way around this.

“That you'll have to ask him.” Millicent continued to pet her cat calmly. “My biggest concern is what the town will be giving up if I sell to Matthew. In the paperwork I gave you is the hotel's projection of the additional tourist dollars that would flow into Misty Harbor.”

“I take it they are substantial?”

“Very. We're talking a big hotel with a well-known name. One who would bring in a higher class of tourist who has deeper pockets. Every shop, tour boat, and restaurant in this area would profit from them.”

“Heck of a dilemma.” She wouldn't want to be in Millicent's shoes trying to decide what to do.

“Yes, it is.” Millicent played with the tiny silver cross she wore around her neck. “That's why you have to tell both sides of the story. From what I've seen of your work, you're fair and factual, and you don't express your own opinion.”

“This ought to be fun.”
Not!

“I could have asked Tom to write an editorial about the sale of the property.”

“Why didn't you?” Maybe if she found out why she hadn't, she could convince her to change her mind. Tom would probably do a better job of it. He understood the economics of the area.

“Rumor had it that you were seeing Ned Porter before you wrote that piece about logging.”