Charon's Crossing (A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novel) (34 page)

But Matthew was nowhere nearby. She knew that she'd have sensed his presence.

Jason kept kissing her. His hand crept towards her breast. The feel of it made her skin crawl.

"Jason, wait."

He silenced her by trying to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid into her mouth; she felt its warm slickness and almost gagged.

"Stop it," she said sharply, and when he didn't, she slapped his face.

Stunned, they stared at each other in the moonlight, each of them breathing hard but for very different reasons.

"Oh, Jason," Kathryn finally whispered. She reached out towards him but he stepped away and walked to the window.

"Listen," he said, "I think maybe I ought to fly back to New York in the morning."

Kathryn knew he wanted her to tell him not to go. She knew it was what a woman should say to the man she was going to marry.

"I don't think coming down here was such a hot idea, after all."

"Jason. Jason, I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be. You're upset, and I can understand the reason. Here you are, stuck with a house that looks like a strong wind might blow it down. The last thing you need is me, pressuring you."

Kathryn suspected she looked almost as miserable as he did.

"Yeah," she murmured, "I think you're right."

Jason nodded. Her easy acquiescence felt like a blow between the eyes, but what had he expected? That she'd beg him to stay? That the tropical sun would have burned off her inhibitions? Well, it hadn't. If anything, she seemed further away than ever. Each time today he'd tried to get close, she'd backed off.

Maybe it was the atmosphere of decadence and decay in this damned ruin of a mansion, or the miserable isolation of the place. Whatever it was, he was certain that hanging around would only make things worse.

It wasn't easy, but he managed to look at Kathryn and smile.

"How much more time do you figure you'll have to spend here?"

She'd expected the question. What she hadn't expected was her hesitation in answering. A few days ago, the thought of having to put in even an extra hour at Charon's Crossing would have seemed like a penance.

Now, though she didn't want to dwell on the reason, the thought of leaving put a hollow feeling into the pit of her stomach.

"Kathryn? What do you think?"

"Well," she said carefully, "I had thought a week would do it, but now I guess I really can't give you a definite answer. There are so many unknown factors, you know?" Her smile felt artificial. "I think they must have invented
manana
on this island. I've got to work around the contractor's schedule, my lawyer's not even on the island, and the realtor..."

"How long?"

She shrugged and picked at a bit of nonexistent lint on her skirt.

"A couple of weeks, maybe."

Jason's face fell. "That long?"

"I'm just not sure, Jason. Actually—actually, I was thinking, it might be a good idea if I took some of my vacation time now, don't you think?"

What he thought was that something he couldn't understand was going on here. Kathryn, asking for more time away from the office? It was simpler to imagine the sun asking for a day off.

"Jason? Is that a problem?"

"No," he said quickly, "no problem at all. Maybe that's what you need, you know? Some time off."

She nodded. "You might be right."

"Remember that MicroTech Conference in Miami? The one we were going to pass on? Well, I've been thinking, you can never tell. They're running some seminars that might be interesting."

Kathryn couldn't remember what conference he was talking about. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the last time she'd thought about business.

"So why don't we do this? You take your time here, get things squared away with this house and all, and then fly to Miami and meet me at the conference. We'll sit in on a couple of seminars, maybe talk a little shop, and then we'll take a long weekend in the sun before you decide if you have to come back here—or if you're ready to fly home with me. How's that sound?"

He hadn't expected her to jump up and down with joy but he hadn't expected her to look blank and then bow her head and stare down at her feet, either. He held his breath and his patience while he waited for her answer. It was a long time in coming but finally, when he'd almost given up hope, she looked up.

"It sounds great," she said.

They smiled at each other politely. Then Jason collected his pajamas and his toothbrush. Kathryn showed him into the room across the hall and they spent the night alone, in separate rooms and separate beds.

Chapter 14

Kathryn awoke early.

She dressed and opened her door quietly, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that Jason's bedroom door was still tightly shut.

Quietly, she made her way down to the kitchen. As she put up the coffee, she thought about what she'd say to him this morning.

Jason was her fiancé. He had flown all the way down to Elizabeth Island for a romantic weekend, and when he got here, she'd treated him as if he carried the plague and she was a certified crazy.

Kathryn blew out a gusty breath as she took a bowl of fruit from the refrigerator.

And it was all Matthew's fault. If he hadn't treated the whole thing like a joke, popping in and out of the woodwork right under Jason's nose, deliberately drawing her into taunting conversation with Jason standing right in the same room, she'd never have gotten so edgy. Things would have gotten off to a better start and they'd have ended better, too, with her in Jason's arms exactly as she was supposed to have been.

As she had wanted to be, and never mind all that silliness last night when Jason's kisses had made her tighten like an overwound spring.

It was nerves, that was all. Between Matthew's performance that morning and the certainty that he'd been about-to pop out of the walls last night, she'd been a wreck.

That he hadn't put in an appearance didn't change a thing. There was nothing like the anticipation of a visit from a ghostly jack-in-the-box for making you antsy.

Right now, for example, she kept expecting him to suddenly materialize in the middle of the room while she sliced oranges, bananas and casaba melon into an old, probably priceless, Waterford bowl.

Anything that would destroy her equilibrium would suit Matthew just fine.

Well, he was in for a surprise. Briskly, she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, then set the bowl of fruit in the center of the table. Nothing was going to upset her this morning, she thought as she backhanded a couple of flyaway curls from her forehead, not even Harry Houdini! She was going to be calm and sensible, and when Jason came down the stairs and into the kitchen, she would greet him with a smile, a kiss, and, maybe the suggestion that he forget about cutting short his visit.

"Good morning, Kathryn."

She looked up. Jason was standing in the doorway. He was wearing a dark suit, white shirt, and maroon tie and she knew at once that she wasn't going to do anything of the sort.

"Good morning," she said.

"I phoned the airport," he said briskly. "There's a mail plane taking off for Grenada in a couple of hours. The pilot said he'd be glad to give me a lift."

Kathryn nodded. "That's good," she said brightly. "That the phone's working, for a change, and that you can get a ride."

He nodded, too. "Yes, it is."

There was a moment's silence and then she cleared her throat. "Well," she said, holding out a cup of coffee, "did you sleep well?"

"Eventually." She could see the conflicting emotions on his face, and then he sighed and accepted the cup as if it were an olive branch. "First I had to adjust to the silence. No police sirens, no fire trucks, no drunks yelling on the street corner... how can you bear it?"

Kathryn laughed and leaned back against the sink. "Awful, isn't it?"

"You've certainly settled into this mausoleum better than I would have."

"Well, it hasn't been that easy." She looked at him. "I suppose that's why my nerves are so on edge."

"I understand."

He didn't, not really, but how could he? She hadn't told him about Matthew.

All at once, she knew that was what she had to do, and never mind Matthew's smug insistence that Jason wouldn't believe her. Of course he would. He loved her. He trusted her. He knew she wasn't some sort of flighty dreamer with an overactive imagination.

Sharing this—this burden with him would be wonderful. He could advise her, help her deal with the insanity of being haunted, and taunted, by a ghost.

"Jason," she said quickly, before she could change her mind, "there's something I need to tell you."

A worried look crept over Jason's face.

"Ah, Kathryn, Kathryn." Matthew's whisper came from out of nowhere. "He thinks you're going to break your betrothal."

Kathryn stiffened. She turned, looked in every direction, but Matthew wasn't visible.

"Your precious Jason is so concerned about his own needs that it hasn't occurred to him that you might be about to seek solace."

"Jason," Kathryn said, "please, sit down."

"Kathryn," Matthew said, "if you tell him about me, he's not going to believe you."

Kathryn stamped her foot. "He will!"

"Will what?" Jason said, the worried look deepening.

"He's either going to think you've lost your senses or that you need reassuring, like a foolish twelve-year-old."

"Dammit," Kathryn said.

"Darling? What is it?"

"Sit down, Jason!" She pointed a trembling finger at the table. Jason sat.

"Isn't that nice?" Matthew drawled. "He's so well trained. I saw a hound like that once. It was truly amazing. The dog would do almost anything you asked of it."

Kathryn shut her eyes, counted to ten, then looked at Jason.

"We need to talk," she said.

"Now, darling, I know you're still upset after last night. I don't think this is the best time to make any quick decisions."

Matthew chuckled softly. "You see? He's afraid you're going to tell him it's all over."

Kathryn sighed and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes.

"It isn't a quick decision," she said. "I thought about it yesterday, and then most of last night." Her arms fell to her sides and she fixed Jason with a look. "And I know telling you this is the right thing to do."

"Please, Kathryn, don't say anymore. You aren't yourself, I know that. I understand, and—"

"You don't."

"I do. You think things aren't working between us, but—"

"This has nothing to do with us!"

Jason blinked. "It hasn't?" he said, and gave a long sigh. "Oh, wow. I thought—"

"Jason." Kathryn pulled out a chair and sat down opposite him. She folded her hands on the table. "I've got to tell you something. I know it's going to sound crazy, but... The thing is, Charon's Crossing is—is more than just a ruin."

Jason laughed and shook his head. "You're probably right, but if there's a stronger word to describe it, I can't think of it."

"I don't mean that. I mean, yes, the house is a mess, but... The thing is... the thing is, Jason, Charon's Crossing is haunted."

There. The words were out. Just saying them made her feel better—until Jason laughed.

"Haunted," he said.

Kathryn nodded. "Yes."

"Haunted," he repeated, chuckling. He shoved back his chair, got to his feet, and walked to the stove. "Haunted" he said, and poured himself more coffee.

Kathryn's eyes narrowed as she stood up. "That's what I said."

"Uh huh." He looked at her. "And just when did you find this out?"

"Almost as soon as I got here. It turned out that everybody knew about it. My attorney, the realtor, the guy who's going to fix the house up... Jason, dammit, will you stop laughing? This isn't funny!"

"No," he said, his lips twitching, "I don't suppose it is. It's going to be difficult enough to find a buyer for this wreck but if people think there's a resident spook..."