"Promise?"
"I promise."
Paige reached into one of the cupboards and pulled out a cheap coloring book along with a brand new package of Crayola crayons.
Susannah hooted with laughter. "You want us to color?"
Paige gave her a snotty look. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"Oh, no. I think it's a wonderful idea." Without thinking about what she was doing, she swept her sister into her arms and hugged her so tightly that Paige let out a yelp.
They settled down at the table, chairs butted up next to each other as the two Faulconer sisters bent their heads over the coloring book. Susannah worked on the left page, her sister on the right. Paige fancifully shaded her cartoon cow in pinks and roses, then added a comically oversized hat. Her artistic eye held no regard for the thick black outlines of the drawing, even as her homey soul craved strong, respectable borders.
Susannah neatly outlined all the separate parts of her lady pig before she dutifully filled in the blocks of color. Constriction was fine in coloring books, she discovered, but it wouldn't do at all in real life.
"Not fair, Susannah. You wore the point down on the blue crayon. I can't stand it when the points aren't sharp."
And because Susannah cared more about pushing life to its limits than she did about crayons, she gave Paige the sharp ones and used the dull, blunt nubs herself.
It was an arrangement that made them both blissfully happy.
Chapter 24
Mitch stood at the edge of the patio and gazed down at the secluded beach from behind a pair of silver-rimmed aviator's sunglasses. A sweat stain had dared to form a patch on the back of his pale blue knit shirt, and his gray slacks were rumpled from the long plane trip. But fresh clothes were the furthest thing from his mind as he watched the two women playing in the surf below.
Paige's body, with its full centerfold breasts, was the more voluptuous, but it was Susannah's lean, thoroughbred form that held his attention. Water glittered like crystals on her shoulders, her breasts, and the flat plane of her belly. It slithered down the small of her back and glossed her small, sweet ass as she waded at the edge of the waves.
He knew he shouldn't watch, but the sight of her held him in a grip that was so powerfully erotic, he couldn't turn his head away. Thou shalt not covet thy partner's wife, a voice whispered. But he had been coveting his partner's wife for a very long time.
He didn't know exactly when in the past few years friendship had turned to love or affection had become desire. There was no specific moment he could point to and say-now! Right now I know that Susannah Faulconer is the woman I've been looking for my entire life. He certainly hadn't wanted to fall in love with her. It was messy. Inconvenient. It absolutely violated his moral code. But just the sight of her filled him with a piercing sweetness that transcended anything he had ever felt for a woman.
Except now that her farce of a marriage was finally over, that sweetness had been distorted by anger. For years he had kept his emotions firmly leashed when he was around her. He had never slipped, not once. But when he had heard what had happened, something inside him snapped. He wanted to shake her for her stupidity, for all those wasted years she had held on. He wanted to shake her until he rattled loose whatever it was inside her that had made her an emotional slave to Sam Gamble.
And now he would have to comfort her. He would have to be good old Mitch, patting her back and pretending to be sad right along with her. He would have to be her compassionate and understanding friend when he didn't want to be a friend at all, when he wanted to kick up his heels and shout, "Good riddance."
That's what he wanted her to do, too. He wanted her to look up into his eyes and say, "Thank God that's over. Now you and I have a chance."
But Susannah wasn't frivolous with her emotions, and he knew that wouldn't happen-not for a very long time, if ever.
The recent turn of events at SysVal made everything more complicated. As he remembered the crisis that had arisen so abruptly, he wondered what he would do if she weren't ready to go back with him.
Paige looked up at the cottage, interrupting his thoughts. He could tell by the way her body grew still that she had spotted him, but he didn't back away. Susannah continued to play in the waves, so he knew that her sister hadn't shared the news that they had an observer. If Paige wasn't going to tell, neither would he. He continued to watch.
Susannah was astonished to see the back of a man's head and shoulders rising above one of the patio chairs as she came up from the beach. He turned and smiled at her, the sun glinting off the metal rims of his aviator glasses as he stood.
"Well, if it isn't SysVal's lost lady."
"Mitch! What are you doing here?"
"I was in the neighborhood."
She rushed toward him and then remembered that she was naked beneath her beach towel. Clutching it more tightly in her fist, she leaned forward and kissed a jaw that bore an uncharacteristically rakish stubble.
His hand pressed flat against the small of her back for a moment and then he released her. "I've been worried about you. It's been three weeks."
Had it been so long? September had slid into October and she had barely noticed. "You came this far just because you were worried?"
To her surprise, the corners of his mouth tightened in the subtle sign that indicated he was upset. "You could have telephoned, Susannah. You must have known-" He broke off as something just behind her caught his attention.
Susannah turned her head to investigate, and to her dismay saw Paige standing on the edge of the patio, the beach towel wrapped low on her hips, her breasts as brown and bare as one of Gauguin's Tahitian women.
"Well, well, well," Paige said. "If it isn't Mister-Black, is it?"
"Blaine," he said. He gazed at her for a moment, and then dropped his head so that it was obvious he was deliberately staring at her breasts through his sunglasses. "You're looking well, Paige."
Susannah was embarrassed. And then she wondered why she should be uncomfortable. These two were both pros. Mitch certainly knew what he was doing, and Paige had to work out her devils in her own way.
Paige looked over at Susannah, obviously expecting her to intercede in some way. Susannah lifted an eyebrow. You got yourself into this, sister mine. Now you can get yourself out.
She could see Paige begin to grow flustered. Mitch stubbornly refused to redirect his gaze. Paige made an elaborate show of yawning as if all this were too, too boring for words. "I'm thirsty," she said. "I guess I'll go get us something to drink."
Susannah had to suppress the urge to applaud her sister's feistiness. Paige knew she had lost the battle, but she was going down fighting.
Paige, however, had one final salvo to deliver. "You really should have come swimming with us, Mr. Blaine, instead of standing up here spying. It would have been so much cooler." With a smug glance at her sister, she disappeared inside the cottage.
Susannah rounded on Mitch. "You were spying on us?"
He slowly pulled off his sunglasses and folded in the stems. "Not spying exactly."
"Then what, exactly?"
"Just sort of watching."
"I don't believe this! Mitch, how could you do something so slimy?"
"Aw, come on, Susannah. Ease up, will you?" He stuffed his glasses in his shirt pocket. "What would you have done if you were a healthy heterosexual male who just happened to stumble on the sight of two beautiful naked women cavorting in the water?"
She saw his point, but she didn't have too much fondness for any member of the male sex at the moment, and she refused to give in. "I'm not beautiful, and I'm not a woman. I'm your business partner."
"Ri-i-ght. And for a business partner, you've got a terrific-"
He broke off as he found himself on the receiving end of one of the more chilling of her glares-the glare that, five years ago, she had reserved for anyone who had the audacity to ask SysVal to pay its bills on time.