Jayne Ann Krentz (11 page)

“I'm a Madison. I was bound to pick the wrong woman.”

“That's a cop-out excuse if I ever heard one and you know it. You will not use it again, do you hear me?”

He halfway lowered his lashes. “Yes, ma'am.”

She subsided slightly. “It's not like you're the only person on the face of the earth who made a mistake when it came to selecting the right mate, you know. I didn't do any better.”

“Yes, you did. You just got engaged. You never got married.”

She made a face and forked up another bite of toast. “I'll let you in on a little secret. The only reason I didn't make the mistake of actually marrying Doug was because he very kindly dumped me before we got to the altar.”

“What was he like?”

“He's a lawyer, a partner at a very prestigious firm in Portland. We met when I did his sister's wedding. We had lots of things in common.”

“He fit all the criteria on the Mr. Right list you gave me that night on the beach?”

She winced. “You remember that list?”

“Never forgot it. Made a profound impact on me.”

“Why?”

He picked up his coffee mug and swallowed meditatively. “Probably because I knew I'd never come anywhere near to meeting even half the requirements and specifications on it.”

His words blindsided her. “It really bothered you that you couldn't make my Mr. Right list?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good grief, that's crazy. You were never interested in me. To you I was just some naïve, prissy little overachiever. Miss Goody Two-Shoes, remember?”

“It wasn't the fact that I personally couldn't make your Mr. Right list that bugged me. It was the fact that there
was
such a thing as a Mr. Right list and you knew all about it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“See, I didn't even know the damn list existed,” Rafe explained patiently. “That put me at a serious disadvantage. And when I found out that women like you had one and the kind of stuff that was on it, I knew I was in deep trouble.”

She shook her head once, dazed. “I don't get it. What do you mean?”

He exhaled slowly. “I'll tell you something, Miss Goody Two-Shoes. That night on the beach you were all those things you just said—naïve and prissy and all that. But I figured you were also an authority on one important thing. You knew what it took to make a good marriage.”

“Me? But I'd never been married.”

“True, but you'd been raised in a family that looked pretty damn perfect to me. Happily married parents and grandparents. No divorces. No scandals. I assumed that you knew what it took to make it all happen.”

Understanding dawned. Rafe had no firsthand knowledge of how a good marriage functioned because, unlike her, he'd never witnessed one close up. Divorce ran as strongly as green eyes in the Madison clan.

“I see. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I have concluded that my original Mr. Right list was flawed,” she said.

“Yeah? Why?”

She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on the heels of her hands. “I'm going to tell you something that I've never told anyone else. I swear, if this gets out I will throttle you, Rafe Madison.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“The truth is, Doug had his own list, and I failed to meet all of his specifications and requirements.”

Rafe blinked. Then his mouth curved slowly into a grin. “The guy had a Ms. Right list?”

“Yep. He was decent enough to point out the areas in which I was deficient. He made suggestions for improvement. I got ticked.”

Rafe's grin metamorphosed into a chuckle. The chuckle erupted into a full-throated roar of laughter.

She watched him, wondering if he was going to fall out of his chair. Winston, ears cocked, looked intrigued. Rafe's howls filled the kitchen.

It took a while for him to pull himself together. Hannah filled the time by pouring herself another cup of coffee and feeding Winston a scrap of leftover French toast from her plate.

Rafe's shoulders eventually stopped shaking. He sprawled in the chair, one hand on his flat belly, and subsided slowly into a grin.

“Sorry.” He didn't sound sorry at all.

“I'm glad you find it so amusing.”

“I have to know,” Rafe said. “Where did you fall short?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Because I just cooked breakfast for you.”

“Hmm.” He had a point. “I fit most of the criteria, you understand. I came from a successful family. I was well educated. I had demonstrated initiative and determination by founding my own business. I was well connected in the community. I shared a lot of Doug's interests.”

“But?”

She made a face. “But it turned out that Doug was making long-range plans to enter the political arena. He's a good man. I think he really has something to contribute. But he needed a wife who could handle the sort of social and personal demands that go with that kind of job.”

“Hence the list.”

“Yes. The more I realized that he was serious about a political career, the more we both came to the conclusion that I couldn't handle being a politician's wife.”

Rafe reached for the coffeepot. “Welcome to the select club reserved for those who fail to make the Mr. and Mrs. Right lists.”

“Gee, thanks. Is there a merit badge?”

“No. So, tell me, what did you do with your own list?”

She hesitated. “I amended it.”

He glanced at her with a strange expression. “You mean you've still got one?”

“Yes. But it's a lot shorter now.”

“Huh. What's on it?”

“I really don't think—” She broke off at the sound of a car turning into the drive.

Winston was at the door in a flash. He gave the appropriate warning
woof
. Alert but not yet alarmed. On the job.

The low rumble shattered the fragile intimacy that had enveloped the kitchen. Rafe turned his head to check the drive. Hannah followed his gaze. The fog had burned off enough to allow her to see the vehicle that was approaching the house. A green Volvo.

“Anyone you know?” Rafe asked.

“I don't recognize the car.”

“Want me to hide in a closet?”

“Don't be ridiculous.” She pushed back her chair and got to her feet. “I'm sure it's just a friend of my folks' who found out that I'm in town and stopped to say hello.”

He looked at her. “Whoever it is, he or she will have seen my car by now. Probably recognized it.”

“The fact that you are having coffee with me is no one's business.”

“Wasn't just coffee,” Rafe said as she went past him into the living room. “But who's going to argue?”

She was saved from having to respond because she was already halfway to the front door. She patted Winston, who looked like a ballet dancer, poised and ready on his paws.

“It's okay, pal. I don't think a burglar would arrive in a Volvo.”

She opened the door. A polished, good-looking man emerged from behind the wheel of the Volvo. He wore a navy blue polo shirt, a pair of gray trousers, and loafers. There was a designer logo stitched on the left side of the shirt. The pants appeared to have been hand-tailored, and the loafers had little tassels. She was almost certain that the hair had been styled in a salon located somewhere other than Eclipse Bay.

When her visitor spotted her waiting in the doorway, he gave her a dazzling smile that lit up the foggy morning like a lighthouse beacon.

“Looks like Perry has started bleaching his teeth,” she murmured to Winston.

Winston rumbled deep in his throat and trotted after her as she went out onto the porch.

“Hannah.” Perry Decatur jogged toward the steps.

“Heard you were in town. Great to see you again. You look fabulous.”

At the last minute she realized his intention and braced herself. He swept her into an embrace that would have been more appropriate for lovers who had been separated for years by war and star-crossed fates. She felt the breath go out of her lungs as his arms closed around her.

A low growl reverberated across the porch. For one horrible moment, Hannah was not sure if the sound had come from Winston or Rafe.

“Cute dog.”

Perry released Hannah, bent down, and thumped Winston lightly on his broad, intelligent head without going through the civilized formality of allowing Winston to sniff his fingers first.

Winston's silvery brows bristled with indignation, but he was too well behaved to make a scene. He did, however, display a discreet glimpse of fang. Could have been an accident, Hannah thought.

Perry straightened quickly. “Dogs love me.”

“No kidding.” Hannah looked at Winston. “Thank you, Winston. I can handle this. You may go back inside and finish your breakfast.”

With a last glare at Perry, Winston turned and stalked back into the house.

“Fine-looking animal,” Perry said approvingly. “Do you show him?”

“Show him what?”

“I meant, is he a show dog?”

She stared at him. “Put Winston in a ring and make him perform stunts for a bunch of judges? Are you mad? I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing. He would be mortified.”

Perry managed a forced chuckle. “I see. Well, how have you been, Hannah?”

“Fine.”

“Great. That's just great.” He angled his chin in the general direction of Rafe's car. “I see you've got a visitor.”

“We're having coffee.”

“Coffee sounds terrific.”

She chose to ignore the unsubtle hint. “I'm a little busy, Perry.”

The bright light of his smile dimmed a bit. “Hannah, I really need to talk to you.”

“Call me this afternoon.”

“This can't wait.” Perry paused a beat and lowered his voice. “It's important. Not just to me but to a lot of people here in Eclipse Bay.”

She wavered. “What is it?”

“It's too involved to explain out here.”

He moved past her with a breezy arrogance that made her want to stick out a foot and trip him. She avoided the temptation. If Winston was capable of good manners and restraint in the face of extreme provocation, she could do no less.

She went thoughtfully back into the house and closed the door. Perry was already in the kitchen, introducing himself to Rafe.

“I don't think we've met.” He thrust out his hand. “I'm Perry Decatur. I'm with the institute. Sorry to interrupt breakfast. Hannah and I are old friends.”

“Rafe Madison.” Rafe kept his fingers wrapped around his coffee mug and managed to overlook Perry's outstretched hand. “I know all about your old friendship with Hannah. I was the one who walked her home that night eight years ago when she decided to end her date with you a little early. But I'm sure you heard all about that.”

Perry blinked a couple of times and dropped his hand. But if he found the moment awkward, he gave no hint. “What a coincidence, the three of us getting together over coffee after all this time.”

“Yeah, life's funny that way, isn't it?” The gleam in Rafe's eyes was diamond-hard. “So, what do you do at the think tank?”

“Vice President of Finance and Administration.”

Perry removed a small gold case from his pocket and produced a card. When Rafe did not reach for it, he put it down on the table next to the empty syrup jug. He took one of the chairs, twitched it around, and sat down back to front. Very confident. Very much at home in this house. Hannah ground her teeth.

“I'm the guy who deals with the donors and contributors who fund the research projects,” Perry said.

“In other words, you hustle cash for the institute,” Rafe said.

Hannah raised her eyes toward the ceiling, but there was no help from that quarter.

If Perry was insulted by Rafe's description of his job, he managed to conceal it behind a small chuckle. “It's a bit more complicated than that, but I really don't have time to go into it now.”

Hannah dropped down into her chair. “Why don't you tell me exactly why you're here, Perry?”

“Well, I'd like to invite you to attend the reception for Trevor Thornley at the institute tomorrow night,” Perry said.

“Thanks,” Hannah said, “but I'm not big on political receptions.”

“This is an important event,” Perry said seriously. “Thornley's going to formally announce his intention to enter the U.S. Senate race.”

“So?”

Perry pursed his lips. “Well, the thing is, when I heard that you were back in town, I more or less assured the director of the institute that I could convince you to come to the reception. It would look very good to have a Harte there, if you know what I mean. Your family has always carried a lot of weight here in Eclipse Bay.”