When she could procrastinate no longer, she slowly opened the bathroom door. Luc looked up and stared. Something arced across the room between them.
He cleared his throat. "I'll go change now. Why don't you play with the baby? I won't be long."
Before she could respond, he was gone.
Twenty minutes later, amidst the chaos of getting everything and everyone packed up for the return trip, she finally saw her husband again. He was wearing dark slacks and a pale blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His casual, masculine elegance took her breath away.
It shocked her to realize that she and Luc were not returning on the plane with the rest of the group. And Luc didn't take the time to explain, leaving Hattie to build scenarios in her head, each more unlikely than the next.
Ana stood by as Hattie said one last goodbye to the baby who had become so dear. When Angela was still alive, Hattie had been extremely fond of her tiny niece … as any doting aunt would. But now … now that Hattie played the role of mother, the bond was fierce and unbreakable. She couldn't pinpoint a single instant when it had happened. But the connection was substantial. As much as she was looking forward to spending time with Luc, it pained her to say goodbye to Deedee.
So much was still uncertain. And the baby was so helpless.
Ana patted Hattie's shoulder. "Don't worry … please. We'll watch over her as if she were our own."
Hattie handed over the sleepy child and forced a smile. "I know you will. She adores you and Sherman already. I wouldn't trust her with anyone else." The captain signaled Luc, and Luc began ushering everyone toward the boat.
Leo lingered to speak to Hattie. "I hope you know what you're doing."
She smiled wryly. "Do any of us ever really know what we're doing? I'm trying my best, Leo. It's all I can do."
He hesitated. "Call me if you need anything," he said gruffly. "And be good to my brother."
Before she could respond, he loped toward the end of the dock and boarded the cabin cruiser.
A mournful toot of the horn heralded departure. Luc rejoined Hattie, and they both watched and waved as the vessel moved away from the pilings, picked up speed and slowly skimmed out of sight.
Hattie shifted her feet restlessly. The sun was lower in the sky now, and a breeze had picked up, alleviating some of the heat. "Why didn't we go with them?"
Luc took her arm, leading her back toward the house. "It's been a long, stressful day. I thought it might be nice to relax here for the night. I've ordered a helicopter to pick us up at ten in the morning. He'll take us to the Atlanta airport, and we'll catch our flight to Key West from there."
"Oh."
He must have misread her quiet syllable as lack of enthusiasm, because he frowned. "I'm sorry I'm not taking you somewhere more exotic … like Paris, or St. Moritz. But with Eddie still a loose cannon, I thought it would be wiser to stay where we could get home quickly if need be."
"I think you're right."
Conversation evaporated as they neared the house. Hattie's heart was pounding in her breast. Two people alone on the proverbial deserted island. What happened next?
The truth was anticlimactic. Luc paused on the porch, running a hand through his hair, and for the first time that day, looking uncertain. "Are you hungry at all? We have leftovers."
Hattie had been too nervous earlier to eat much at their wedding meal. "Well, I … "
"It might be nice to sit out on the beach and watch the water while we eat."
Was that a note of coaxing in his voice? She indicated her clothes. "I dressed to travel. Do you mind if I change?"
"Roll up your pants legs. We'll go barefoot and pretend we're teenagers again."
This time there was definitely self-mockery in his words, but she was easily persuaded. They raided the kitchen, and in short order cobbled together a light meal. Luc found a large-handled tote, and they loaded it. Leaving Hattie to carry nothing but two bottles of water, Luc scooped up an old, faded tarp and swung the bag over his shoulder.
She laughed when he kicked off his shoes and rolled his trousers to his knees before they left the house. Following suit, she joined him outside, smiling when she felt the still warm boards beneath her feet.
It was her wedding day. Perhaps an unorthodox one at best, but still deserving of at least a jot of ceremony.
What had happened earlier lingered between them … unspoken, unacknowledged. But it was there, filling her veins with heady anticipation.
Luc managed to spread the ground cloth with her help, though the stiff wind made it necessary to quickly secure the corners with food containers. They sat down side by side. With no baby to act as a shield between them, either literally or figuratively, the mood was much different than it had been during the evening at the park.
Here, on an island far from land, removed from any other humans, it was more difficult to ignore the past.
Luc leaned back on his elbows, his expression pensive. "I wondered about you over the years … what you were doing … if you were happy." He turned his head suddenly and looked straight at her. "Were you?"
"Happy, you mean?"
He nodded.
"It's hard to pin down happiness, isn't it? I had a job that I liked. Friends. Family. So yes, I guess I was happy."
He frowned slightly. "I was an idiot back then. When we were in college. Confusing lust with love. I'm not sure love exists."
Her chest hurt. "How can you not believe in love?"
His gaze returned to the sea. "I understand loving a child, a parent. Those emotions are real. But between men and women?" His lips twisted. "Mostly hormones, I think. Makes the world go round."
The deliberate cynicism scraped at her guilt. Was that his intention? She curled her legs beneath her, poking at a small crab scurrying in the nearby sand. "You've never come close to marrying before now?"
He smiled faintly. "You mean after the debacle with you? No. Once was enough."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was a lesson well learned."
She hated his current mood. He was spoiling whatever pleasure she had managed to squeeze from today's events.
Her temper sizzled. Abruptly, she stood up. "I can only apologize so many times. You hate me. I get it. But I can't change the past."
Nine
Luc cursed beneath his breath as Hattie ran from him. Had that been his subconscious intent? To make her angry? So there would be no question of appeasing the ache in his groin?
To say he was conflicted was an understatement. He wanted Hattie with a raw intensity that only increased day by day. But he wasn't willing to give up his position of power. He wouldn't let her see him as a supplicant. It was up to her to come to him. God help him.
He reached into the food bag and found a block of aged cheddar. Not bothering with a knife, he ripped off a hunk and bit into it. The cheese tasted bitter in his mouth. And since he knew all the food at the wedding was top-notch, the problem must be him.
He tossed the uneaten portion back in the bag and went to stand at the water's edge.
Until now, he hadn't allowed himself to think about the men who had shared her life in the intervening years. His fists curled, and he wished violently that he was at the gym so he could beat the crap out of a punching bag.
A swim in the rough surf might appease the beast inside him, but he couldn't take the chance. He wasn't worried about his own safety, but leaving Hattie alone if something happened to him would be the ultimate mark of irresponsibility.
And he was nothing if not responsible.
Damn it. He took off in his bare feet, running full-out, dragging air into his lungs, ignoring the shell fragments that pierced his skin. He kept up the brutal pace, rounding the point and covering mile after mile until he came full circle to where the uneaten picnic lay.
With his chest burning, his feet aching and his skin wind-burned, he stopped suddenly, bent at the waist and rested his hands on his knees. He was used up, worn-out, ready to stop.
But still he wanted Hattie.
Inquisitive gulls had found the bag of food. Much of it would have to be tossed. He waved them away and packed up what he and Hattie had brought to the beach.