A Proposal Worth Waiting For. Raye Morgan

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      “Sure.”

      He glared. “You didn’t put the caves on that map.”

      The caves. She should have known it would come back to the caves.

      “Yes I did. I sketched in where they are along the coast.”

      “Vaguely. No detail. And when I went out there, I realized there was no way I was going to be able to search them.” His nostrils flared. “They’re like a maze. It must take forever to know where all the hiding places are in those caves. You didn’t give me a clue.”

      She stared at him, wondering at the intensity she was seeing in his face. “You know Carl, maybe if you told me what you’re looking for, I could help you better.”

      She stared at him. He stared back.

      Come on, Carl, she thought silently. Tell me you think you’re going to find the Don Carlos Treasure. Admit it. Let’s get it out in the open.

      He took a deep breath, his eyes smoldering with anger. She almost thought he’d heard what her mind was thinking.

      “Just make a map of the caves,” he said. “That’s all I ask.”

      She smiled and waved as Lyla called out a good-morning greeting, walking out toward the edge of the terrace. Her smile faded as she realized where Lyla was headed. Marc was sitting on the broad stone wall, dangling his legs over the side. Lyla laughed as she kicked off her stiletto heels and prepared to join him.

      Torie turned back to the man beside her, feeling a bit more grumpy than she had seconds before.

      “Carl, I was a kid when I knew the caves that well. That was fifteen years ago. Do you really expect me to remember...?”

      He leaned so close his hot, thick breath was on her cheek. “What were you doing down there yesterday?” he demanded. “What’s in those caves?”

      “Nothing,” she said back, recoiling and frowning at him. “That isn’t the only place I went. I walked up and down the beach, remembering things from my childhood and just enjoying seeing it all again. I walked past the boathouse and went into the canyon to the little redwood forest.”

      “Redwood forest? What redwood forest?” He pulled out the map and curled it open at one end. “You didn’t put any redwood forest on here.”

      “I guess I forgot it,” she said coolly. She’d had about enough of Carl and she welcomed the chance to throw him off the scent of the caves. “Here, let me fix that.” She snatched up the map and opened it to the coast area, grabbing a pen and quickly drawing in a tree where the canyon should be. “There it is.” She handed the map back to him. “Have yourself a ball,” she told him caustically.

      She started to gather her things with every intention of leaving Carl and going over to the stone wall to see what Marc and Lyla were doing, but it occurred to her that she ought to warn him.

      She turned and looked at him, wondering how she could have let herself pretend this man was sane and safe. Anyone could have seen he was nothing but trouble—ugly trouble. And now she was stuck with him. She sighed, but resigned herself to a duty warning.

      “You heard about the Greeks?”

      “No.” He glanced around and didn’t see them. “What?”

      “It appears they were not what they seemed.” She gave a little cough of a laugh. “Just like us. Funny, no?”

      He looked uneasy. “What are you talking about?”

      She leaned close and spoke softly. “Marc has connections with local authorities. They have connections with the feds. He asked for a background check and got one. The Greeks are not even Greek, and they are out on their ears.”

      He stared. “Are you kidding me?”

      She shrugged. “Would I kid about a thing like that?”

      He rose, shoving his plate aside. “I’ve got to get out of here.” He glanced at his watch. “Okay, I’ll be back.” He looked up and jabbed a finger in her direction. “And I want you to be available at noon.” He glared at her fiercely. “You’re going to lead me through the caves.”

      She swallowed hard. Something about his obvious burning anger was beginning to put her on edge. “I told Marge I would join the group in a hike along the cliff after breakfast. I don’t know if we’ll be back in time to...”

      “Be back,” he said coldly, almost snarling at her, his eyes suddenly looking very bloodshot. Reaching out, he gripped her upper arm painfully. “I’m going to need you. Understand?”

      “Okay,” she said a bit breathlessly. “Okay. Take it easy. I’ll be here.”

      He nodded, obviously trying to get a grip on his emotions. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.” And then he turned away, walking quickly in the direction of the stairs and toward the rocky shoreline.

      She rubbed her arm, watching him go. The man was beginning to scare her. She turned, planning to go to where Marc was, but he was gone. Lyla sat alone, swinging her legs over the side, and that was not an inviting scenario. Torie turned back toward the house. It was probably time to get ready for the hike.

      * * *

      An hour later, the hike was in full swing. Their little group was straggling toward the cliffs about half a mile from the house. Torie was walking behind Frank and Phoebe and wishing she knew where Marc had gone. She was on edge and conflicted and not sure what to do next.

      She regretted allying herself with Carl. He was obviously some sort of underhanded crook, and she didn’t want to be associated with him any longer. She knew it looked bad, that it made her look less than honest herself. What did Marc think? She was afraid she might just know.

      Marc had been her crush from the time she was about ten years old. He’d never looked twice at her, except for various, vague incidents in their past. But on the whole, he didn’t know she existed most of the time. But she certainly knew about him.

      She’d watched him grow from a gawky but adorable teenager to a slender willow of a young man, strong and sharp, smart and quick, brave but restless. He’d gone off to join the military because he needed something in his life, needed to do something, be somebody. She’d only been fifteen the last time she’d seen him, but she’d known what he wanted to do and she’d understood his hunger for life. She’d felt a bit of an echo of it in her own heart at the time.

      And now he’d come home, thicker, stronger, more wary of life and its challenges. He’d been through some things out there in the world, things he wasn’t going to talk about. You could see it in his eyes. He didn’t seem to trust anyone or anything anymore. It made you wonder what he’d seen, what had been done to him, what he’d had to do to others that he might regret. He was a man.

      And when he’d kissed her, he’d been her dream come true. She’d gone up to her room and slipped into her bed and stared at the ceiling, and gone over it—feeling his mouth on hers again, catching her breath in a gasp of sensual excitement like she’d never felt before.

      No. Sorry, world. Those embers were not dead after all. The smoldering СКАЧАТЬ