All right, she thought. Smooth and lightly flirtatious. She could play that game.
"I was just thinking the same thing about you," she replied as she slid into the car. "It's a lovely evening for a drive down the coast. "
"My thoughts exactly. " He walked around to the driver's side, got behind the wheel. "Music?"
"Yes. "
She settled back, calculating how much time she would allow him to seduce her, then lifted her eyebrows in surprise as flutes played on the speakers. "An odd choice for you," she commented. "You were always more fond of rock, particularly if it was loud enough to slam the eardrums. "
"No harm in changing the pace now and then. Exploring different avenues. " He lifted her hand, kissed it.
"Broadening horizons. But if you'd prefer something else . . . "
"No, this is fine. And aren't we accommodating?" She shifted, her hair flying around her face. "The car handles well. "
"Want to try it
out?"
"Maybe on the way back. " Deciding against trying to puzzle him out, for now she sat back to enjoy the rest of the ride.
And when he drove through the village without stopping, she tensed up again. She studied the yellow cottage when he parked in front. "Odd, I didn't realize you'd turned this into a restaurant. I believe that's a violation of your lease. "
"It's temporary. " He got out and came around the car for her. "Don't say anything yet. " Again, he lifted her hand, brushed his lips over her knuckles. "If you decide you'd rather go somewhere else, we'll go somewhere else. But give it a minute first. "
Still holding her hand, he led her around the house rather than into it. On the freshly mowed lawn a white cloth was spread. It was surrounded by candles not yet lit, and pillows in rich colors and fabrics. Beside it was a long basket overflowing with lilacs. He lifted it. "For you. "
She studied the flowers, then his face. "Lilacs are out of season. "
"Tell me about it," he said, holding the basket out to her until she took it. "You always liked them. "
"Yes, I've always liked them. What is all this, Sam?"
"I thought we'd have a picnic. A compromise between business and pleasure, public and private. "
"A picnic. "
"You always liked them, too. " He leaned forward to brush his lips over her cheek. "Why don't we have a glass of wine, and you can think about the idea?"
To refuse would be both cold and ungracious. And, she admitted, cowardly. Just because she'd once imagined them happily married and having picnics on the lawn by their own little cottage was no reason to slap at him for trying to give her a pleasant evening.
"I'd love some wine. "
"I'll be right back with it. "
She let out a little sigh when he was out of earshot, and when the back door swung shut behind him she lifted the basket of lilacs and buried her face in them.
Moments later, she heard the music of harp and pipe drifting from the house. With a shake of her head, she sat down on one of the pillows, put the basket of flowers beside her, and waited for him to come back.
He brought not only wine but caviar.
"Some picnic. "
He sat, and in an almost absent gesture, lit the candles. "Sitting on the grass doesn't mean you can't eat well. " He poured the wine, tapped his glass to hers. "Slainte. "
She nodded in acknowledgment of the Irish toast. "You've been tending the little garden. "
"In my limited capacity. Did you plant it?"
"Some of it, and some is Nell's doing. "
"I can feel her in the house. " He heaped beluga on a toast point. "Her joy in it," he said and offered the caviar to Mia.
"Joy is one of her greatest gifts. When you look at her, you don't see the horror she's been through. It's been an education to watch her finish discovering herself. "
"How do you mean?"
"With us, it always was. The knowing. With Nell it was finally unlocking a door, then stepping through it and finding a room full of fascinating treasures. The first magic I showed her was how to stir the air. Her face when she did it . . . it was wonderful. "
"I never taught anyone. I did attend a weekend seminar on Wicca a few years ago, though. "
"Really?" She licked caviar off her thumb. "And how was that?"
"It was . . . earnest. I went on impulse, and actually met a few interesting people. Some of them with power. One of the lectures dealt with the Salem trials, and segued into Three Sisters Island. "
He helped himself to the caviar. "They had most of the facts, but not the spirit. Not the heart. This place . . . " He skimmed the woods, listened to the beat of the sea. "It can't be summed up in a fifty-minute lecture. " He looked back at her. "Will you stay?"
"I've never left. "
"No. " He brushed her hand with his. "For dinner. "
She picked up another toast point. "Yes. "
He topped off her wine before he rose. "It'll take me a minute. "