Sandra Field - Remarried In Haste

What for? Photos of himself? That was a laugh. Photos of another man? That wouldn’t be one bit funny.

She wasn’t dating anyone else. She’d told him so. And in all the years he’d known Rowan, she’d never tied to him.

Brant was highly skilled at swift searches. The weight of the haversack was due to binoculars, a camera and a zoom lens. No photos turned up. But in a pocket deep in a back compartment he found something that made his pulses lurch, then thrum in his ears. His fingers were caressing the cool ceramic surface of the earrings he’d had designed for her, earrings fashioned like the berries of the rowan tree.

“What are you doing?”

Like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Brant looked up. He fumbled for the earrings and held them up. “These were the first present I ever gave you.”

She whispered ferociously, “You’re on vacation, Brant—but you can’t give it a rest, can you? You’ve always got to be the perfect investigator, the one who invades and violates the privacy of others for your own ends. Why don’t you just lay off?”

“Why were these earrings buried in your haversack?”

“That’s none of your damned business!”

She was swearing at him, he thought in deep relief; the ice-cold, controlled woman of last night was gone. In her place was a woman whose eyes blazed, whose cheeks were stained red with rage and whose breasts—those delectable breasts—were heaving. He retorted, “Just answer the question.”

“Oh, because I’m dying with love for you,” she stormed. “I’m obsessed with you, I think about you night and day, week in, week out. Hadn’t you guessed that? Or could it just possibly be because I’d planned to wear them on this trip since they’re kind of neat earrings and when you arrived I decided against it, in case I put any ideas in your head?” She snorted. “I don’t need to put any ideas in your head, you can come up with more than enough all by yourself.”

“I didn’t—”

“I’m actually starting to be pleased that you’re here, Brant Curtis, and how do you feel about that? Do you know why?” She didn’t stop long enough for him to answer. “You’re confirming all the reasons I left you. Every last one of them. By the time you get on the plane in Antigua to go home, I’ll be free as a—as a bird, and don’t you dare tell me that’s another cliché. I’m going to get on with my life. Without you. And I’m beginning to think I’ll have you to thank for that.”

So angry he was beyond thought, Brant closed the distance between them in two long strides. Taking her furious face in his hands, the earrings digging into her cheek, he planted a kiss full on her open mouth.

Rowan kicked out at him; his tongue sought all the sweetness he’d missed so desperately for so long, and from behind them Peg gasped, “Oh, my goodness!”

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