The CEO's Accidental Bride (11 page)

Lindsay sobered. “Yes, ma'am.” But as she spoke, Kaitlin caught the smoldering look that passed between her and Dylan.

For all her plain-spoken, sage wisdom, Ginny had just made a fatal error with those two. She might as well have dared them to sleep together.

“Help me up, dear.” Ginny reached for Dylan, and he grasped her hand, supporting her elbow, and gently brought her to her feet.

It took her a moment to get stabilized, and Dylan kept hold of her.

“Now that you're here,” she said to him, “I thought I might call Sadie—” Then she stopped herself, a fleeting look of confusion entering her aging eyes. “Silly me. I meant the rose garden. I think I'd like to visit Sadie's rose garden.”

Dylan slid a look of regret in Lindsay's direction. But there was no impatience in his voice when he spoke. “I'd be happy to drive you down,” he told Ginny.

Kaitlin hopped out of the pool, adjusting her mint-green bikini bottom and making sure the straps had stayed in place. “I'll do it,” she offered to both Ginny and Dylan.

She'd love to tour Sadie's rose garden. There was a picture of it in its heyday on the wall of one of the drawing rooms in the castle. She'd driven one of the little golf carts between the houses that afternoon, and it was very easy.

“Thank you, dear,” said Ginny as Kaitlin scrubbed the towel over her wet hair. “You're a good girl. You should go ahead and sleep with Zachary.”

Kaitlin stopped drying and blinked at the old woman in shock.

“Those Harper men aren't the marrying kind,” Ginny elaborated.

“Zach already married Kaitlin,” Lindsay offered. Then she froze halfway out of the pool. “I mean…”

“Are you pregnant?” asked Ginny, her gaze taking a critical look at Kaitlin's flat stomach.

Kaitlin quickly shook her head. “I'm not pregnant.”

“I'm sorry,” Lindsay squeaked in horror.

“Well, I don't know how you trapped him,” said Ginny matter-of-factly. “Sadie and I have despaired that he'd even give any woman a second glance.”

Kaitlin looked to Dylan for assistance. Did the situation require further explanation? Would Ginny forget the entire conversation by morning?

But he was too busy struggling to control his laughter to be of any help.

“We're, uh, not sure it's going to work out,” Kaitlin explained, feeling as though she needed to say something.

“Well, how long have you been married?” asked Ginny, slipping a thin wrap over her shoulders, obviously oblivious to the undercurrents rippling through the conversation.

Kaitlin hesitated. “Um, a few months.”

“Then you've already had sex,” Ginny cackled with salacious delight.

“Who's had sex?” Zach's voice startled Kaitlin as he appeared from between two of the pool cabanas and came to join the group. His curious gaze darted from one person to another.

“You and Kaitlin,” said Dylan.

“What?”
He took in Kaitlin's bathing suit–clad body, his intense gaze making goose bumps rise on her skin and heating her to the core.

“Ginny and I are going to the rose garden,” she announced, swiftly wrapping the big towel around her body. There was no reason she had to remain here. Dylan could bring Zach up to speed.

She and Ginny headed for the cabana that held her clothes.

 

Sadie's rose garden had obviously been a spectacular showpiece in its day. Some sections of the formal gardens had been kept up over the years by the castle staff, but it was obviously too much work to keep it all from overgrowing.

As Kaitlin and Ginny had made their way through the connected stone patios, beside gazebos, along stone trails and past the family's beautifully preserved chapel, Ginny shared
stories of fabulous weekend-long garden parties, and of the dignitaries that had visited the island over the years.

Kaitlin got a picture of a carefree young Sadie growing into a serious, responsible young woman, with an abiding respect for the heritage of the family she'd married into. All signs pointed to Sadie and Milton being very much in love, despite the pregnancy and their hurried wedding.

Ginny clipped flowers as she talked, and Kaitlin ended up carrying a huge armful of the roses—yellow, white, red and pink. They were fragrant and gorgeous.

At the end of their walk, Ginny pleaded exhaustion and asked Kaitlin to take the roses up to the family cemetery and lay them on Sadie's grave.

Kaitlin had easily agreed. She'd delivered Ginny to the Gilby house and into the care of the staff there. Then she'd followed Ginny's directions and driven one of the golf carts up the hill to the family cemetery.

Visiting the graveyard was a surreal experience.

Isolated and windswept, it was perched on the highest point of the island, at the end of a rocky goat track that was almost more than the cart could navigate. She had stopped at the end of the trail to discover a small, rolling meadow dotted with Harper and Gilby headstones, and some that she guessed were for other island residents, maybe the ships' crews or staff dating all the way back to the pirates Lyndall and Caldwell.

Wandering her way through the tall, blowing grass, reading the inscriptions on the headstones, she could almost hear the voices of the past generations.

Both of the pirates had married, and they'd had several children between them. Kaitlin tried to imagine what it must have been like for Emma Cinder to marry Lyndall Harper in the 1700s. Did her family know he was a pirate when they agreed to let her marry him? Had he kidnapped her, snatched her away from a loving family? Did she love him, and was she happy here in what must have been an unbelievably isolated outpost? The castle wouldn't have existed, never mind the pool, the golf carts or the indoor plumbing.

While she read the dates on the old stones, Kaitlin couldn't help but picture Zach in pirate regalia, sword in his hand, treasure chest at his feet. Had Lyndall been anything like him—stubborn, loyal, protective? Had Emma fallen in love with Lyndall and followed him here? Perhaps against her family's wishes?

As she wandered from headstone to headstone, Kaitlin tried to piece together the family histories. Some of the lives were long, while some were tragically short. Clipped messages of love and loss were etched into each stone.

A mother and an infant had died on the same day in 1857. A tragic number of the children hadn't even made it to ten years old. There were few names other than Harper and Gilby, leading Kaitlin to speculate the daughters had married and moved off the island.

Most of the young women who'd married the Harper and Gilby men had given them children, then died as grandmothers and were buried here. In one case, Claudia Harper married Jonathan Gilby. But they didn't have any children. And that seemed as close as the families came to intermingling.

Then Kaitlin came to two new headstones—clean, polished, white marble set at the edge of the cemetery. They were Drake and Annabelle Harper. Both had died June 17, 1998. They could only be Zach's parents.

Though the roses were for Sadie, Kaitlin placed a white rose on each of Zach's parents' graves. Then she lowered herself onto the rough grass, gazing across the tombstones to the faraway ocean, trying to imagine how it would feel to belong in a place like this.

She turned her memory to the single picture of her mother, and to the sad rooming house where Yvette had ended up. Kaitlin drew up her knees, wrapping her arms around them, telling herself it was all going to be okay. She
would
nail the perfect renovation for the Harper building. Then she'd find herself a permanent job. She'd stay in New York, and Lindsay would be there with her.

She'd finally build herself a home, and things would be better
than ever. Starting right now. She might not have roots. But she had prospects. She had ideas. And she wasn't afraid to work hard.

A raindrop splashed on her hand.

She blinked, raised her head and glanced over her shoulder to find that billowing, dark storm clouds had moved in behind her, changing the daylight to a kind of funny twilight.

She reluctantly came to her feet and dusted off the rear end of her shorts, smoothing her white blouse as droplets sprinkled on her hair and her clothes. With one last, longing look at the family cemetery, she made her way back to the electric golf cart at the head of the trail.

Her clothes damp now, she climbed onto the narrow, vinyl bench seat, pressed her foot down on the brake, turned the key to the on position and pushed on the gas pedal.

She pushed down harder, then harder still, but nothing happened. The cart didn't move forward like it should have.

She rechecked the key, turned it to off then back to on again. Then she went through the entire procedure a second time. Still, nothing happened. She didn't move.

Rain was coming down harder now, and the clouds had blocked the last vestige of the blue sky. The wind was picking up, whipping the fat raindrops sideways through the open cart.

Kaitlin whacked her palm against the steering wheel in frustration. The timing could not have been worse.

It might be a dead battery, or it might be a malfunction. Either way, she was well and truly stuck. She retrieved her cell phone, speed dialing Lindsay's number.

The call went immediately to voice mail.

Kaitlin left a message, hoping Lindsay wasn't holed up somewhere in Dylan's arms.

Okay, so she really didn't hope that. If Lindsay truly wanted to fulfill her pirate fantasy, then Kaitlin hoped that was exactly where she was. But she hoped it wasn't a long fantasy. And she truly wished she'd jotted down Zach's cell phone number when they'd joked about it this morning. She might not be lost in his castle, but she could certainly use his help.

She glanced around the wind-and rain-swept meadow, the tombstones jutting shadows in the gloom. She told herself there were still a couple of hours until dark, so there was plenty time for Lindsay to get her message. And how long could a person possibly frolic in bed with a pirate?

Okay. Bad question.

Thunder rumbled above Kaitlin, and a burst of wind gusted sideways, splattering the raindrops against her face.

Then again, maybe Ginny would wake up from her nap and tell them Kaitlin had gone to the cemetery. Assuming Ginny remembered that Kaitlin had gone to the cemetery. Would Ginny recall that?

Kaitlin peered once again at the tombstones on the horizon. She wasn't wild about sitting here in a graveyard in the middle of a thunderstorm. Not that she was afraid of ghosts. And if any of Zach's ancestors were ghosts, she had a feeling they'd be friendly. Still, there was a horror-movie aspect to the situation that made her jumpy.

The rain beat down harder, gusting in from all sides, and soaking everything inside the cart. Her shorts grew wet. Her bare legs became streaked with rivulets of water through the dust from the meadow. And her socks and running shoes were soaking up raindrops at an alarming rate.

She rubbed the goose bumps on her bare arms, wishing she'd put on something more than a sleeveless blouse. Too bad she hadn't tossed a sweater in the backseat.

Lightning flashed directly above her, and a clap of thunder rumbled ominously through the dark sky. It occurred to her that the golf cart was made of metal, and that she was sitting on the highest point on the island.

She wasn't exactly a Boy Scout, but she did know that that particular combination could be dangerous. Fine, she'd walk already.

There was still plenty of light to see the trail. It was all downhill, and it couldn't be more than forty-five minutes, an hour tops, to get back to Dylan's house.

 

“What do you mean, she's not here?” Zach studied a disheveled Dylan, then Lindsay. He didn't need to know what they'd been doing. Though it was completely obvious to anyone what they'd been doing. “Where would she be?” he demanded.

He'd checked the rose garden over an hour ago. He'd also combed through the entire castle, including the attic rooms and the staff quarters. And he'd just confirmed that Aunt Ginny was napping in her room. So the two of them weren't together.

“Maybe she went to the beach?” Lindsay ventured, ineffectually smoothing her messy hair.

“When was the last time you saw her?” asked Zach.

Dylan and Lindsay exchanged guilty looks.

“Never mind.” What they'd been doing for the past three hours was none of his business. And they certainly weren't Kaitlin's babysitters.

“She can't be far,” Dylan said. “We're on an island.”

Zach agreed. There were only so many places she could be without having flown away on a chopper or taken a boat. And she didn't do either of those things.

There was the chance that she'd fallen off a cliff.

He instantly shut that thought down. Kaitlin wasn't foolish. He was sure she was fine. He watched the rain pounding against the dark window. It seemed unlikely she'd stay outside in this. So maybe she was already back at the castle. He could call—

Wait a minute.

“You've got her cell number,” he said to Lindsay.

“Right.” Lindsay reached for her pockets. Then she glanced around, looking puzzled.

After a few seconds, Dylan stepped in. “I'll check the pool house.”

Zach shook his head in disgust. He did not want to know the details of their tryst. He pulled out his own phone. “Just tell me her number.”

Lindsay rattled it off, and Zach programmed it into his phone then dialed.

It rang several times before Kaitlin came on the line. “Hello?”
Her voice was shaky, and the wind was obviously blowing across the mouthpiece.

She was still out in the storm.

“You okay?” he found himself shouting, telling himself not to worry.

“Zach?”

“Where are you?”

“Uh…”

“Kaitlin?” Not worrying was going to be a whole lot easier once he figured out what was going on.