Sanctuary(53)

"I thought you didn't take portraits."

"As a rule, I don't." Conversation always made her feel pressured. she dipped into her pocket for a cigarette. "You don't have to prime inanimate objects with flattery or liquor to get a shot."

ve only had one beer." He took the lighter from her, cupped a hand around it to shield it from the wind off the ocean, and lit her cigarette. His eyes met hers over the flame. "And you haven't exactly primed me with flattery. But you can take my picture anyway."

she considered him through the smoke. Strong bones, strong eyes, strong mouth. "Maybe." she took the lighter back and tucked it in her pocket. What would she see through the lens? she wondered. What would what she saw pull out of her? "Maybe I will."

"How uncomfortable will it make you if I tell you I've been waiting here for you?"

Her gaze shifted to his again, then away. "Very. Very uncomfortable."

"Then I won't mention it," he said lightly, "or bring up the point that I watched you stand up there between the dunes, and I thought, There she is. What took her so long?"

Jo anchored the stick between her knees to free up a hand for her beer. And the hand was damp with nerves. "I wasn't that long. The fire hasn't been going more than an hour."

"I don't mean just tonight. And I don't suppose I should mention how incredibly attracted I am to you."

"I don't think-"

"So we'll talk about something else altogether." He smiled at her, delighted with the baffled look in her eyes, the faint frown on that lovely, top-heavy mouth.

"Lots of faces to study around here. You could do another book just on that. The faces of Desire." He shifted slightly so that their knees bumped.

Jo stared at him, amazed at the smoothness of his moves. Certainly that's what they were, just moves. Any man who could get a woman's heart tripping in her chest with no more than a few careless words and a grin must have a trunkful of moves.

"I haven't finished the book I'm contracted for, much less thought about another."

"But you will eventually. You've got too much talent and ambition not to. But for now why don't you just satisfy my curiosity and tell me about some of these people?"

"Who are you curious about?"

"All of them. Any of them."

Jo turned the dog 'tist over the flames, watched the fat rise and bubble. "That's Mr. Brodie-the old man there with the white cap and the baby on his lap. That would be his great-grandchild, his fourth if I'm counting right. His parents were house servants at Sanctuary around the turn of the century. He was born on Desire, raised here."

"And grew up in the house?"

"He'd have spent a lot of time in it, but his family was given a cottage of their own and some land for their long and loyal service. He fought in World War Two as a gunner and brought his wife back from Paris. Her name was Marie Louise, and she lived here with him till she died three years back. They had four children, ten grandchildren, and now four greats. He always carries peppermint drops in his pocket."

she turned her head. "Is that what you mean?"

"That's just what I mean." He wondered if she knew how her voice had warmed as she slipped into the story. "Pick another."

she sighed, finding it a little foolish. But at least it wasn't making her nervous. "There's Lida Verdon, cousin of mine on the Pendleton side. she's the tired, pregnant woman scolding the toddler. This'll be her third baby in four years, and her husband Wally's handsome as six devils and just no damn good. He's a truck driver, goes off on long runs. Makes a decent living, but Lida doesn't see much of it."

A child ran by screaming with pleasure, chased by an indulgent daddy. Jo crushed her cigarette out in the sand, buried it. "When Wally's home," she continued, "he's mostly drunk or working on it. she's kicked him out twice now, and taken him back twice. And she's got one baby on leading strings and another under her apron as proof of the reconciliations. We're the same age, Lida and I, born just a couple of months apart. I took the pictures at her wedding. she looks so pretty and so happy and young in them. Now, four years later, she's just about worn out. It's not all fairy tales on Desire," she said quietly.

"No He slipped his arm around her. "It's not all fairy tales any where. Tell me about Ginny."

"Ginny?" With a quick laugh, Jo scanned the beach. "You don't have to tell anything about Ginny. You just have to look at her. See the way she's making Brian laugh? He hardly ever laughs like that. she just brings it out of you."

"You grew up with her."

"Yeah, almost like sisters, though she's closest with Lexy. Ginny was always the first of us to try anything, especially if it was bad. But there was never any harm in it, or in her. It's just a matter of Ginny liking everything, and a lot of it. And-uh-oh. I bet she helped stir that up."