Kiss and Tell (13 page)

“Everyone knows you’ve got something going with Dr. Devlin.”

“
Excuse
me?”

He handed her an enormous paper cup of soda pop. “Uh-oh. Maybe that’s just another rumor. You’re
not
involved with the doctor?”

Leila sighed. “I wish,” she murmured, voicing her thoughts before she stopped to think. Who was listening? She looked around, but although there were a number of covert glances being cast in their direction, no one was close enough to have heard her. Except, of course, Hayden.

He shook his head. “I don’t get it. Dr. Devlin talks about you all the time. And I thought I saw you two together at Simon’s party. Even if I hadn’t heard the rumors, I would have thought…”

But Leila and Marsh had fought at Simon’s party. Still…

“Really? Do you think…?” My God, what was she doing, talking about her relationship with Marsh this way to a man who was almost a stranger?

“He’s so reserved, so cool,” Hayden said thoughtfully. “And maybe
that’s
his problem. Maybe what he needs is to get heated up some.” He smiled at her, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. “I’ve got an idea.”

Mary Lou Tennison’s strident voice carried back from the reception area, into Marsh’s office. With a sigh, he massaged his aching temples, then rose from behind his desk to shut the door. But before he even touched the doorknob, her words to Helen Burke, his nurse, caught his ear.

“And then,” Mary Lou intoned, “Hayden Young
kissed
Leila Hunt. Right in the middle of the picnic area. Right on the mouth.”

Marsh leaned his throbbing head against the doorframe, suddenly frightfully weary. Leila had done it. Somehow she’d managed to kiss the lifeguard.

“It wasn’t just a little kiss,” Mary Lou continued. “It was a very, very
big
kiss. Full body contact. The second hand on my watch went completely around the dial once…if not twice. It was like something out of
From Here to Eternity,
only without the rolling around in the surf. I nearly dropped the kids’ fruit slushes on the floor.”

Marsh started to close the door. God help him, he didn’t need to hear this.

“And
then,
” Mary Lou lowered her voice to a loud stage whisper, “
She’s
breathing hard,
he’s
breathing hard, the entire concession stand is silent, you could have heard a pin drop, and he says—” she paused dramatically. Marsh found himself leaning out into the hallway. “‘When can I see you again?’”

Marsh closed his eyes as his head began to pound even harder. God, no. Sheriff Halliday hadn’t really been a rival for Leila’s affections, despite his good looks. But Young was bloody
perfect.
He was smart, handsome, and so damned nice it was sickening. If the lifeguard decided to pursue Leila, Marsh didn’t stand a chance.

“What did Leila say?” Helen asked Mary Lou.

Marsh held his breath.

“She said, and I quote: ‘You can see me whenever you want.’”

Marsh slammed the door.

When Leila got home from the town beach, there were two unfamiliar cars parked in the driveway. Visitors. Some of Simon’s many friends, no doubt. His new girlfriend, Amanda, probably. But who else?

As she got out of her car, she stopped for a moment, feeling dizzy. The dull headache she’d been fighting ever since Hayden Young had woken her up on the beach suddenly exploded into full, pounding pain.

Leila went inside. The house was dark and cool, and her head should have felt better, but it still throbbed persistently. She needed some Tylenol, and a solid jolt of caffeine. She’d skipped her morning cup of coffee and she was paying for it now. With any luck, Simon had some cola stashed away in the fridge. The sound of voices and laughter came from the deck, and before she went into the kitchen, she went to investigate.

Simon was leaning against the railing, his arm around an ethereal-looking dark-haired woman who was gazing up at him with far too much adoration in her eyes. She had to be Amanda. She was younger than the women he usually dated, and her prettiness was more subtle, more delicate. She was wearing a long, loose, sleeveless dress that went all the way down to her ankles. She looked radiantly happy, poor thing.

Nancy Sullivan was sitting across the deck from them, nursing a tall glass of iced tea, and Leila stopped short in surprise.

“Hi.” Nancy smiled. “I stopped in a little while ago, to see if you were around.” She looked like the cat that had caught the canary. “I answered the phone while Simon was in the pool, and just so happened to speak with someone named Elliot?”

Elliot. “He called?”

“You didn’t tell me you had a fiancé.”

Leila shook her head. “He’s not my fiancé—”

“Simon tells me that Elliot wants you to get married in New York City. He said that Elliot thinks a wedding reception is the perfect opportunity to schmooze with his clients. That is
the
most unromantic thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Leila, didn’t you know that the wedding usually takes place in the bride’s hometown?”

“I’m
not
getting married,” Leila said, but no one seemed to be paying her much attention.

“I’m from Burlington, Vermont,” Amanda volunteered. She pushed her glistening brown hair back from her face as she smiled up at Simon. “But I don’t want to get married there. Ever since I was little, I’ve wanted to get married on the beach.”

Leila caught Simon’s eye and he squirmed slightly. Nothing like talk of marriage to make him want to run and hide. But somehow he remembered his manners and introduced Amanda to Leila.

“I don’t think the wedding necessarily
has
to be in the bride’s hometown,” Nancy said. “But it
is
supposed to be the bride’s choice. Her family throws and pays for the party, after all.”

“I’d choose the beach,” Amanda repeated. “Right here on Sunrise Key. It’s so beautiful…. I could stay here forever.”

“How about you, Simon,” Leila asked her brother sweetly. “What do
you
think about getting married on the beach?”

Simon smiled weakly, well aware that Amanda was watching him. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t really thought about it. It’s going to be a long time before I get married. A
long
time.”

But Amanda didn’t look fazed, particularly when Leila said, “Si, I remember you saying what a great month April is here on the key. You said it was the perfect month to get married.”

“At the time, I was talking about Noah and Kim Kavanaugh’s wedding plans.” Simon sent Leila a dangerous look.

“Oh, but I saw that envious look in your eye,” Leila teased. She desperately needed that Tylenol, but the look on Simon’s face was worth the wait. “And I caught you flipping through Kim’s copy of
Modern Bride
magazine.”

Her brother’s eyes told her he wanted to wring her neck. But when he spoke, he said only one word. “Ninja.” He said it softly but quite clearly.

“Excuse me?” said Nancy.

“Did you say
ninja?
” Amanda asked.

Simon was still looking at her, and Leila knew, without a doubt, that it was time to back down. “So, Nance.” She turned to Nancy. “You have any plans for tonight?”

“Did I miss something?” Amanda asked, clearly confused.

“Actually, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out and grab something to eat,” Nancy said to Leila.

Amanda still looked perplexed. “What do ninjas have to do with
Modern Bride
magazine?”

Leila pulled a chair up next to Nancy’s and sat down. “I don’t know, Nance, I’m tired and kind of dizzy. I got too much sun today.” Maybe she had some Tylenol in her beach bag. She searched through it quickly. No luck. “I think I’d rather stay in tonight. But you’re welcome to stay for dinner.” She looked at Simon. “What’s on tonight’s menu? More of those nasty little tofu hot dogs that you’re so fond of?”

“Marsh is bringing home a couple of pizzas,” Simon said. He looked at his watch. “Of course, if he’s too much later, we’ll have to call it breakfast.”

“If you’re sure there’ll be enough, I’d love to stay,” Nancy said.

“Wow, you’re really sunburned,” Amanda told Leila. “Did you spend
all
afternoon at the town beach?”

“Most of it.”

“You went to the town beach?” Nancy asked, surprised. “Why? You have a terrific beach right here, inches from your house.”

“Yes, Leila,” Simon said pointedly, “why don’t you tell us all why you went to the town beach this afternoon.”

“Um, it was just a whim.” She ignored Simon’s wicked smile. “Frankie and I felt like going over there. We haven’t been to the town beach in
years,
and…” She stood up. “Gee, will you look at the time! And I’m
covered
with sand.” Simon’s grin was triumphant as Leila beat a retreat. “I better take a shower before it gets too late.”

Leila
was
sunburned. It didn’t seem too bad, just enough to give her already tanned skin a reddish glow, and to make her feel hot. She lathered her body with lotion and got dressed, pulling on an oversized T-shirt and a loose-fitting pair of shorts.

As she went down the hall toward the stairs, she wobbled slightly. God, she was so hungry, she was light-headed. Or maybe it was all that sun she’d had today. Whatever the case, all she wanted was to let the cool evening breeze soothe her warm face. And eat dinner. Except she was feeling a little queasy. But that was probably just the side effects of the aspirin she’d washed down with a can of cola after she searched to no avail for a bottle of nonaspirin pain reliever.

Leila carefully held the bannister as she went down the stairs. As she crossed the foyer, she nearly ran smack into Marsh. Her heart soared crazily at the sight of him.

“Whoa.” The short stop made her head pound almost as hard as her pulse. “Hi. If you’re here, then pizza must be nearby.”

He was still wearing his work clothes, and she watched as he tightened his tie around his neck and slipped back into his sports jacket.

“It’s on the deck,” he said shortly and went out the front door.

Leila followed him, standing with her bare feet on the warm asphalt of the driveway. “Marsh!” she called. “Aren’t you going to have dinner?”

He turned back to look at her. His face was expressionless. “I seem to have lost my appetite.”

She took a step toward him. “You’re not still feeling the effects of last night, are you?”

Marsh laughed harshly. “Apparently last night had no lasting effect.” His eyes were icy cold with anger. “To say I’m disappointed is an understatement. But you needn’t worry. I received your message this time, loud and clear, thank you very much. I’ll keep my distance from now on. And I’d appreciate it if you’d do the same. In other words, stay
out
of my affairs—financial or otherwise.” He started down the driveway but turned back. “Oh, and I heard you found your ninja. Congratulations. I hope you’ll both be very happy.”

Leila stared at him blankly. His words didn’t make sense. He was angry, but she didn’t, for the life of her, know why.

He climbed into the jeep and, with an angry squeal of tires, drove away.

Hayden Young. Somehow Marsh had already heard about her staged encounter with the lifeguard. But that had almost been an afterthought. Most of his anger had been about something else. But what? Racking her brain, Leila went in search of Simon. Maybe he knew.

Simon was out on the deck, eating a slice of pizza. Leila pushed open the french doors and went outside and…

Nancy Sullivan was reaching into the pizza box for another slice.

Nancy Sullivan.

Oh,
shoot.
Leila’s throbbing head pounded even harder.

Marsh thought Leila had invited Nancy over for dinner in order to play matchmaker. No wonder he was so angry. But he was wrong. True, Leila
had
invited Nancy to stay for dinner, but there had been no ulterior motive involved.

Because Leila, herself, was in love with Marsh.

That
was what this was, this strange sensation, these feelings of euphoria combined with frustration and fear and hope.
That
was why one glance into Marsh’s eyes made gravity disappear and her heart turn somersaults. It was
love.
After all these years of fighting tooth and nail, Leila had fallen completely, irrationally, passionately in love with Marsh.

True love.

With Marshall Devlin.

The light-headedness was back, full force. Leila closed her eyes and clung to the deck railing.

“Are you all right?” Nancy said. “You look a little green.”

“I’m fine,” Leila managed to say. She opened her eyes and looked up at Nancy. “Just a little dizzy. Too much sun and no lunch are a bad combination.”

“Are you sure? Marsh was just here,” Nancy told her, “but he had to go out again. Do you want me to try to catch him? Do you need a doctor?”

Leila did need a doctor. Specifically, a doctor named Marshall Devlin. But her needs had nothing to do with her light-headedness, and everything to do with her heart.

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Just hungry. Grab me a piece of pizza, pronto, can you?”

“Sure.” Nancy returned in an instant, with a thick, cheesy slice on one of Simon’s antique plates.

“This is
just
what I need,” Leila said.

And everything went black.

NINE

“I
T’S NOT HEATSTROKE,”
Marsh said quietly to Simon as they stood outside of Leila’s bedroom door. “Her temperature’s not that severely elevated. But she does seem dehydrated. All her symptoms make me think it’s heat exhaustion. And that could, of course, be a precursor to heatstroke. I’m going to sit with her awhile, force fluids.”

Simon nodded. “Need any help? Forcing anything on Leila is next to impossible.”

“Actually, I don’t think it’ll be a problem. She’s been alarmingly acquiescent so far. Of course, she’s mostly been asleep.”

Leila was going to be fine. Marsh was the one who was going to need a week or so to recover. When Simon’s phone number had come on his beeper along with the emergency code 911, Marsh had experienced sheer panic. He’d done a one-eighty on two squealing tires and prayed that it wasn’t Leila who was injured—or worse.

When he’d seen Leila lying on the deck surrounded by Simon, his friend Amanda, and Nancy Sullivan, Marsh had known the true meaning of fear. It filled him from the inside out—a dark, deadly black cloud of terror that threatened to choke him. He knew then how much he loved this woman. He loved her enough to take a chance with her—to take on and prove wrong the prophecy of unhappily-ever-after that his parents’ failed relationship had instilled in him.

Except, dammit, he was too late. Leila had found her dream lover in Hayden Young.

And last night Marsh had come close to flat out telling Leila that he loved her. He
had
told her that he wanted her, that he desired her. And what did she do? She invited her friend Nancy over for dinner in an attempt to fix him up.

That stung, like a hard, cold slap in the face.

Still, he’d nearly wept with relief as Leila roused slightly.

Marsh had carried Leila up to her bedroom and set to work cooling her down.

He stood talking to Simon now, shaking slightly from the adrenaline that had pumped into his system the second the message had appeared on his beeper.

“Call if you need help,” Simon said.

Marsh nodded and went back into Leila’s room with a bottle of Gatorade and a glass he’d brought upstairs from the kitchen.

Leila was asleep in the middle of her double bed. She was sweating and restless and dangerously beautiful. He was there as her doctor; she was his patient. He was going to have to remember that.

Her blond curls were clinging to the sides of her face as Marsh lightly touched her cheek. She was still far too warm and damp.

He set the bottle and the glass on Leila’s bedside table, then pulled the sheet off of her. Crossing the room, he turned on the fan in the far window, which sent a rush of cool ocean air across her body.

She was still wearing shorts and an oversized T-shirt. The shorts had an elastic waistband, and Marsh easily pulled them off, trying to make her a little cooler. It would have been better to take off her T-shirt, but he knew that she had nothing on underneath it.

Her panties were a deep, vibrant shade of blue, a mere wisp of silk and lace cut high on her legs. It figured she wouldn’t be the demure white cotton type. Doctor, he thought. Not lover. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

He sat down next to her, determined to ignore both his sudden despair and the bright blue splash of color.

She stirred again, and he touched her gently, pushing her hair from her face.

“Leila. Wake up for a bit, will you?”

Her eyelids fluttered open, but it took several seconds for her to focus on his face.

“Marsh.” She gave him a sweet, warm smile that made Marsh’s stomach hurt. Why couldn’t she smile at him that way when she was fully conscious?

“Leila, you need something to drink,” Marsh said as her eyes closed again. “I need you to sit up for a sec and drink this.”

“Fine,” she mumbled, not moving. “That’s fine, Marsh. Thanks.”

“I’m going to help you sit up.” Her only response was another weak smile.

“Right.” He pulled her up and propped her back against his chest. She sagged like a rag doll. A
hot
rag doll. The body heat radiating from her was amazing. “Come on, love,” he coaxed, holding the glass to her lips. “Drink up.”

She took one sip and then another as he murmured encouragement. When she would have fallen back into bed, he still held her up. “A little more.”

She took another long, deep drink, then turned her head to look up at him. “I
am
thirsty.”

“That’s splendid. Have some more.”

“You know, I didn’t invite Nancy for dinner.” She was finally awake enough to hold the glass herself, and took another sip. “I mean, I
did,
but I didn’t mean—”

“Shh. We don’t need to talk about that right now. I forgive you, all right? Have some more—”

“No.” She set the glass down on the bedside table. “There’s nothing to forgive. Nancy stopped by. It was time for dinner. I asked her to stay. I didn’t plan it. And as far as Hayden Young goes, I—”

“Leila, it’s fine. Everything is fine, so stop worrying—”

“
You
stop patronizing me.” She tried to pull away, but he held her tightly in place. There was no way he was going to let go of her. She’d fall directly on her head again.

“I’m
not
being patronizing.”

“Yes, you are—”

“Right. You win. Now drink more of this. Please.”

“You won’t even let me explain.” Tears filled her eyes, and Marsh knew he didn’t stand a chance. One tear escaped and began to roll slowly down Leila’s cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m listening now, all right?”

“Nancy was here when I got home from the beach.” Leila wiped at the tear. But another replaced it on her other cheek. “She wanted me to go out to dinner with her, but I was too tired. Simon said you were bringing home pizza, so I asked her to stay. I didn’t stop to think you might jump to conclusions and get angry with me.”

“Leila, love, I’m sorry. I thought…well, you know what I thought.” Of course that didn’t change what he’d overheard Mary Lou Tennison telling Helen Burke. His stomach still hurt to think about it.

Marsh poured more Gatorade into the glass and handed it back to her. “Drink,” he ordered.

She took a sip, looking at him over the top of the glass. She was so enticingly beautiful. He could picture her with Hayden Young, his size-forty arms around her, two sets of blond hair moving gracefully in the breeze. She’d smile up at Young, her own violet-blue eyes sparkling with pleasure, and he’d bend his head to kiss her perfect, tantalizing lips—

“Do you want me to give Young a call?” Marsh worked hard to keep his voice even.

Leila frowned. “Who?”

“Hayden Young,” he repeated, clearing his throat. “Your new boyfriend.”

She handed Marsh the glass and sank back onto her pillows, eyes closed. “He’s not my boyfriend. He wasn’t my ninja, either.”

“But—”

She opened her eyes and smiled drowsily at him. “I kissed him to make you jealous. He’s nice, but he’s not you.”

Jealous? Marsh stared at Leila, trying desperately to process what she was telling him. She wanted to make him
jealous?
Good God! Did that mean…?

She spoke again, but so softly that he couldn’t hear the words.

“What was that?” Marsh leaned closer so that he could hear her.

“Did it work?” she breathed.

“Yes.” He managed to speak despite the fact that his heart was lodged tightly in his throat.

“Good.” Leila sighed, and Marsh leaned even closer to hear her. “I’m so tired…. I’m going to sleep now.”

“All right. I’ll be here if you need me. Just…I’ll be here.”

Leila smiled.

Her mouth was mere inches from his own. He was close enough to see the individual freckles that decorated her nose, close enough to smell the clean, sweet fragrance of her hair with each breath he took. One tear lingered on her cheek.

Marsh couldn’t stop himself. He leaned forward, lightly kissing that last tear away.

But Leila turned her head and before he even realized what was happening, he was kissing her. He was kissing her sweet lips. Her mouth was warm, too warm. Her tongue was shockingly hot as she opened her mouth and—

Marsh’s eyes flew open and he looked directly into the violet-blue swirls of Leila’s eyes. He pulled back. “I’m…I’m sorry. I—”

“Don’t stop, Marsh,” she murmured, even as her eyes drifted shut.

Marsh’s heart was pounding. She’d kissed him.
She’d
kissed him.

He made himself back away from the bed.

She’d kissed Hayden Young to make him jealous. She didn’t think Young was her ninja.

He pulled the armchair next to her bed and sat down. He turned off the light and waited as his eyes grew accustomed to the soft moonlight streaming in through the windows. It bathed Leila with its silvery light, making her look angelic.

Marsh smiled.

He still had a chance. He had a chance, and he was going to do his damnedest to win Leila’s heart. He had to.

Because tonight he’d had a very clear look at what losing Leila meant.

And he was damned if he was going to let that happen.

Leila spent the afternoon in the shade alongside the swimming pool. She’d slept away the morning, waking up well past noon.

Simon was out of town all day on business, but he called every few hours or so, checking in on her.

She was, she told her brother repeatedly, fine.

She had a very slight headache and was a little bit shaky, but other than that, she felt fine. Still, she followed the directions Marsh had scribbled on a piece of paper in his big blocky handwriting. Rule number one: Stay out of the sun. Rule number two: Push fluids. Rule number three: Take it easy.

And then there was rule number four: Have dinner with me tonight.

It wasn’t a request. There wasn’t a “please” in sight. That should have pushed all of the wrong buttons in Leila, but it didn’t. As she looked at the message from Marsh for the tenth time that day, she didn’t feel indignant or defensive. She felt only anticipation.

She remembered bits and pieces of her interaction with Marsh the night before. She remembered leaning against him as he coaxed her to drink cups and cups of that vile greenish juice. She remembered explaining why Nancy Sullivan was visiting. She remembered Marsh asking her if he should call Hayden Young. She remembered wanting to erase the grim look from his eyes, and telling him the truth about Hayden. She remembered him leaning forward to kiss her….

But she didn’t remember the kiss. Try as hard as she might, she could only recall up to the moment that his lips had met hers. Then it seemed to blur and blend with a dream she must’ve had the night before—a dream about her ninja.

Leila dove into the swimming pool, letting the water surround her, cocooning her in its cool stillness. She swam the length of the pool and back, and when she surfaced, the sunshine seemed unnaturally bright and the sound of her breathing and the splashing noises she made seemed too loud.

Why couldn’t she remember Marsh’s kiss?

She shook her wet hair back out of her face, and…

Leila froze—and dunked herself in the deep end. She came up sputtering and spitting water, and grabbed the side of the pool.

What if her memory of Marsh’s kiss blurred and blended with her memory of her ninja’s kisses because…Marsh
was
her ninja?

No. No, he couldn’t be.

Could he?

Leila did a backstroke across the pool, staring up into the brilliant blue of the sky, trying to slow her racing heart.

If Marsh was her ninja, why hadn’t he told her? Why had he let her go on this wild-goose chase? Why…

Leila suddenly became aware of a dark figure silhouetted against the sky at the edge of the pool. She stood up—the water was a little more than waist deep on this side. She shaded her eyes from the sun.

It was Marsh standing there.

His tie was loosened and the top button of his shirt was undone. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He held his sports jacket by one finger over his shoulder. Despite the fact that it was nearly eighty degrees in the shade, he looked his regular cool, collected self.

Except for his eyes.