Drina glanced to Harper to see how he was taking this, but his head was bowed, and she couldn’t see his expression.
“The biggest favor she did for Bobby was tossing him over for that idiot Randy Matheson when he showed her some interest.” Teddy shook his head. “Now there was a troublemaker. She always went after troublemakers. And Randy’s name fit him to a T, let me tell you. Never seen a more randy teenager. I caught those two parking on back roads all around the county until she tossed him over for some London fellow with a rich daddy and an allowance big enough he could afford to rent himself a motel room rather than grope in cars. I wasn’t sorry about that at all. Chasing off bare-arsed teenagers just gets old pretty quick.”
They’d crossed the deck and reached the door of the house by then, and Teddy paused to turn back to Harper, saying, “I never would have told you all that had Jenny lived, and I didn’t say it when she died because I knew you were hurting, but now that you’re happily settled with Drina here, and enjoying that new-life-mate glow like the others, I have to tell you I think you made a lucky escape there. I don’t know all the ins and outs of this life-mate business, but while Jenny might have been a possible life mate for you and agreed to the turn, I don’t think her heart was in it. I kind of got the feeling she just saw you as another Bobby Jarrod.”
Turning away, Teddy opened the screen door and raised a hand to knock but paused as Mirabeau opened the door from inside.
“Beau,” Teddy greeted, stepping inside.
Mirabeau smiled, then glanced past Teddy to Drina and Harper and waved them in. “Come on you two. It’s cold out.”
Forcing a smile, Drina stepped inside, wishing she could drag Harper somewhere to talk and find out what he was thinking. But there didn’t appear to be much of a chance at the moment. She would have to figure out a way to get him alone and talk to him later.
“Decided to come out of hiding now that Drina and Stephanie have gone to bed, did you?”
Harper stiffened at that greeting from Anders as he stepped off the stairs and turned the corner into the dining room. The hunter sat at the table, a deck of cards spread out before him in what appeared to be a complicated version of solitaire. Harper frowned at the man, not appreciating that one of the few times the Russian chose to speak more than a word or two was to call him out on his behavior.
“I wasn’t hiding,” he lied, turning to walk along the L-shaped counter separating the kitchen from the dining room. Moving to the refrigerator, he opened it, his eyes sliding from the bags of blood to the available food inside.
“Right,” Anders said dryly. “You just like four-hour showers.”
Harper scowled into the refrigerator, and then grabbed both a bag of blood and a bowl of some sort of leftover. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he was hungry. He’d heat it up and see what it tasted like. The dinner he’d had with Drina was the first time he’d eaten in a while. He hadn’t a clue what he would like, so everything was an experiment just now.
“Your avoiding her hurt Drina,” Anders growled.
Harper set the bowl on the counter with a sigh and lowered his head. He shouldn’t be surprised that his fleeing the minute they’d got their coat and boots off, and then not returning downstairs would hurt her, he supposed, but he hadn’t been thinking of her. He’d been thinking of—
“A dead woman,” Anders said grimly, reminding him that his thoughts were easily read at the moment.
“She was my life mate,” Harper said quietly.
“Was being the operative word. She died. Fate had other plans for you. Now you have Drina. It’s a damned lucky turn of events for you. Some never find a second life mate, and those who do usually have to wait centuries. And Drina’s already immortal, another bit of luck since you’ve already used your one allowed turn. It would be foolish to throw this good fortune away.”
Harper stared out the back window of the house, frustration coursing through him. Everything Anders said was true, but he couldn’t seem to rid himself of the clawing guilt. He’d managed to forget it for a while in Toronto, but the closer they’d gotten to Port Henry, the more he’d felt like a philandering husband returning from an elicit rendezvous with his secretary.
Harper closed his eyes. Jenny was dead and in the grave because she’d been willing to turn and be his life mate, and he was off laughing and playing with another woman. He felt like he was dancing on her grave.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it. The thing that really ate at him was that he couldn’t even remember what Jenny had looked like anymore. That wasn’t because of Drina’s arrival. He hadn’t been able to recall her face for a while now. Her image had faded from his mind almost before she’d been in the ground. It was wrong. Shameful. She’d died to be with him and deserved better than that.