Chapter Fifteen
Sneaky bastard. No one had managed to get her so churned up since . . . Well, Mia admitted, no one had managed to get her so churned up since Sam Logan.
And he was better at it now.
Then again, she was better at banking her sexual urges than she'd once been. She'd had lovers over the years, but they'd been few and far between. As time had passed, she discovered that while she enjoyed the casual flirtation, she very rarely felt satisfied or content after having a man in her bed.
So, she'd stopped at flirtations.
It was something she considered a practical rather than an emotional decision. The energy and power she might have channeled into that area of physicality had gone, instead, into her craft. There was no doubt in her mind that she was a better witch for the period of self-imposed celibacy. There was no reason whatsoever why she couldn't apply the same habit now. Since Sam hadn't been in her bed for more than two weeks, it seemed the most logical choice. In any case, she was much too busy to worry about Sam, or sex, or just why he wasn't following through on any of that maddening foreplay.
"You didn't have to come back for this," she said to Nell as she rearranged the cafe tables.
"I wanted to come back. I'm as excited about the signing tomorrow as you are. I'll get the chair for that. "
"No, you won't. No lifting. Period. " As she set the chairs herself, Mia kicked the one Ripley was slouched in. "You could get off your ass and help. "
"Hey, you don't pay me. I'm just hanging out here so I don't have to hang out at home while this male-bonding barbecue ritual is going on. I hope to hell Mac doesn't blow something up. "
"It's a charcoal grill," Nell reminded her. "Charcoal doesn't explode. "
"You don't know my guy like I know my guy. "
"Between the three of them, they should be able to get it going and grill some steaks. " The image of Zack grilling burgers on their own deck flashed in Nell's mind. And made her shudder. "But God help your poor kitchen. "
"Least of my worries. " Ripley crossed her feet at the ankles, legs stretched out, and watched in amusement as Mia continued to change the table arrangement.
"Now that one there?" She jerked her thumb toward Mia. "She's got plenty of worries. See the line she gets between her eyebrows? Means she's feeling bitchy. "
"I don't have a line between my eyebrows. " And vanity had Mia smoothing it out. "Nor am I feeling bitchy. Slightly stressed, perhaps. "
"Which is why the barbecue's such a good idea. " Nell walked over to the display table and began to toy with a design for the featured author's book. "You'll relax, have an evening with friends, and be clearheaded for tomorrow. I'm glad Sam thought of it. "
"He's always thinking," Mia concluded, but Ripley and Nell could hear the underlying edge to her statement.
"So, how did you like the concert on the beach the other night?" Ripley asked her.
"It was fine. "
"And the moonlight sail after the fireworks on the Fourth?"
"Dandy. "
"See?" Ripley nodded toward Nell. "Told you she was feeling bitchy. "
"I am not feeling bitchy. " Mia set down a chair with an ill-tempered little slap. "Are you looking for a fight?"
"Nope, I'm looking for a beer," Ripley replied, and sauntered into the cafe kitchen to help herself.
"It's going to be a wonderful event, Mia. " Ready to soothe, Nell continued to stack books. "It'll be beautiful when you get the flowers in here tomorrow. And the refreshments are completely under control. Wait until you see the cake. "
"I'm not worried about the flowers, or the refreshments. "
"When you see how many customers start lining up, you'll feel better. "
"I'm not worried about the customers, or not any more than I should be. " Mia dropped into a chair.
"For once, Ripley is right. I am feeling bitchy. "
"Is that a confession?" Ripley asked as she came out with her beer.
"Oh, shut up. " Mia dragged her hands through her hair. "He's using sex. Or rather using the lack of sex to keep me edgy. Candlelight picnics. Moonlight sails. Long walks. He sends flowers every couple of days. "
"But no sex?"
Mia leveled a look at Ripley. "There's considerable foreplay," Mia snapped. "Then he dumps me at my front door and walks off. The next day I get flowers. He calls every day. And twice I've gone home and found a little gift at the front door. A pot of rosemary trained in the shape of a heart, a little pottery dragon. When we're out, he's absolutely charming. "
"The bastard!" Ripley slammed her hand on the table. "Hanging's too good for him. "
"He's using sex," Mia complained.
"No, he's not. " With a dreamy smile, Nell brushed a hand over Mia's hair. "Sex has nothing to do with it. He's using romance. He's courting you. "
"He is not. "
"Flowers, candlelight, long walks, thoughtful little gifts. " Nell ticked the list off on her fingers. "Time and attention. That spells courtship to me. "
"Sam and I passed by the courtship stage a number of years ago. And that courtship didn't include flowers and little gifts. "
"Maybe he's trying to make up for that. "
"He doesn't have to make up for anything. I don't want him making up for anything. " Jittery, she got to her feet, walked over to shut the terrace doors. "He doesn't want the traditional package any more than I do. Now. He just wants . . . "
And that was the trouble, Mia realized. She had no clear idea what he wanted this time around either.
"He's got you scared," Ripley said quietly.
"He doesn't. He absolutely does not. "
"He never scared you before. You always had your course plotted. "
"It's still plotted. I know what I'm doing. I know where I'm going. That hasn't changed. " Even as she said it, she felt a sly chill whisper over her skin.
"Mia. " There was both sympathy and patience in Nell's voice. "Are you still in love with him?"
"Do you think I'd risk letting him into my heart again? That I'd risk that not knowing the cost?" Steadier now, Mia crossed over to finish the display. "I know my responsibility to this island, its people, to my gift. Love, for me, is an absolute. I couldn't survive it again. And I have to survive to fulfill my destiny. "
"And if he is your destiny?"
"I thought that once. I was wrong. When the time comes, the circle will hold. "
At the house on the bluff, three men watched the flames spurt from the charcoal grill with the same intense fascination as the cavemen watched their tribal fire.
"Going good," Zack commented, and nodded at Sam. "See? I told you we could do it with good old Yankee know-how. We didn't need any hocus-pocus crap. "
"Good old Yankee know-how," Sam drawled. "An entire bag of charcoal and a half gallon of lighter fluid. "
"I can't help it if his grill's defective. "
"This is a brand-new grill," Mac protested. "This is its virgin run. "
"Which is why it needs the hot flame. Has to be cured. " Zack tipped back his beer. Mac looked on sadly as the inside of his shiny red grill blackened. "If this sucker melts, Ripley's going to kill me. "
"It's goddamn cast iron. " Zack gave it a little boot with his foot. "Speaking of Rip, where the hell are they?"
"They're on their way," Sam replied as Zack frowned at him. "A little hocus-pocus crap. I like knowing where Mia is. Since Mister Science here clued us in on those readings around her house, I've been keeping tuned to her. "
"She finds out, she'll kick your ass," Zack pointed out.
"She won't find out. She doesn't see clearly when it comes to me. She doesn't want to, and it's damn hard getting Mia to do anything she doesn't want. "
"How are things, you know, going between you?"