My Heart's Desire (7 page)

* * *

Rennie pushed the door open when there was no response to her knock. There was no light in the room, and she paused on the threshold until her eyes adjusted. When she could finally see she wondered if that was necessarily a good thing.

Yes, he was decently covered. But only just. Rennie became impatient with herself as she felt her cheeks grow hot. She considered herself rather a worldly woman, yet here she was in her own home sporting a face like a brush fire. All because of Jarret Sullivan. It was not a situation that endeared the man to Rennie. Setting her shoulders stiffly and cocking her head to the side, she stared defiantly at her unwanted guest.

His form was not unpleasing, she thought. With a hint of the objectiveness in which she prided herself, Rennie admitted that quite the opposite was true. His hair was still damp, darker at the edges where it framed his face, and streaked with sunshine at the crown of his head. In repose his features did not look so sharply cut; the hardness that lay just beyond his amused, lazy smile was absent. But then, Rennie realized with some regret, so was the smile.

Her eyes rested briefly on his mouth, then followed the strong line of his jaw to where a droplet of water lay in the hollow of his throat. His chest rose and fell in an even cadence. She made out the curve of his rib cage and the slope of his hard belly. An arrow of dark hair disappeared beneath the ridge of his loosely tied towel, and lower, the material split intriguingly along his right thigh. As Rennie stared, the split opened farther. She blinked widely, hardly believing the towel was slowly rising.

Jarret snapped to attention, sitting straight up and drawing his knees to his chest. He hid the heavy fullness of his groin, but the ache remained. His brows arched in question a moment before he found his voice. "You've seen enough?"

Rennie held her ground and answered boldly, "More than I cared to, actually."

"Really?" The smile was back, this time edged with derision. "You were staring pretty hard for someone who had taken her fill." Jarret felt a measure of satisfaction as Rennie's face flamed and her icy shield of arrogance began to melt.

"You're a vile, boorish man, Mr. Sullivan."

"That so?" He was genuinely amused now. "Most people just call me a son of a bitch."

She hated the fact that he was laughing at her. She hated the fact that in spite of his near nakedness, he had somehow gotten the upper hand. She wished she
had
called him a son of a bitch, for surely that's what he was.

"There was something you wanted?" he asked. "Or am I to assume you moseyed on in here simply to look at me?"

Rennie's chin came up a notch, and the butter-wouldn't-melt expression returned. "You may as well learn now, Mr. Sullivan, that I've never
moseyed
anywhere in my life. I don't amble, sashay, saunter, or stroll."

"Damn the torpedoes. Is that it, Miss Dennehy? Full speed ahead?"

Rennie's mouth pursed impatiently. "I walk. Sometimes I run. Always with a destination in mind. Not only do I know where I'm going, I know why I'm going there. I've never been inclined to mosey, and it's not a trait that I particularly respect in others."

"You may get where you're goin', but you're missin' the trip."

"Please spare me the good ol' boy homilies. I've been managing just fine on my—"

Jarret held up his hand. "Whoa! You may not walk in circles, but you sure do talk in them. You're making my head ache."

She smiled sweetly as he began to massage his temples. "If my presence here is as welcome to you as a hangover from a three-day drunk, then, Mr. Sullivan, I feel I've accomplished my life's work." For a moment she thought she had gone too far. He stared at her, his features void of any discernible expression; then without warning deep, rumbling laughter shook his shoulders and made his striking eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Your life's work, eh?" He shook his head, still chuckling, and turned on the bed so that his legs dangled over the side. "I'm getting up now, Miss Dennehy, and I'm going to get dressed. I feel a warning's in order since you appear rooted to the floor."

Rennie was indeed rooted. The arrow of hair on his belly drew her eyes as he stood, and the outline of his groin in the towel held her attention. The words came rushing out hoarsely. "We've been invited to a wedding," she said. "My sister's marrying your friend within the hour." Turning on her heel, Rennie fled.

"Wait a minute!" Jarret called after her as she disappeared into the hallway. By the time he reached the door, Rennie had already vanished into one of the neighboring rooms.

Jarret dressed quickly and sought out Moira. He found her in the front parlor using the beveled mirror above the fireplace to adjust the brooch on her shawl. Her concentration was such that his first words frightened her.

"I'm sorry," he said as Moira lifted her index finger to her mouth, "Did you hurt yourself?" He approached and drew out her hand, examining the injured finger.

"A scratch," she said. A pinpoint of blood clung stubbornly to the tip. She accepted the handkerchief Jarret offered her as well as his assistance in fastening the brooch. She noticed his large hands were not at all clumsy when it came to delicate tasks.

From the doorway Rennie took note of the same thing. Over Jarret's shoulder Moira caught her daughter's bemused expression; then she caught her daughter's eye. Moira was not surprised when Rennie's immediate response was to throw up her guard and pretend she had never been observed in a moment of vulnerability. Rennie liked to believe her thoughts were impenetrable. Perhaps that was the case in the boardroom, Moira thought, but not here, not with her family.

Jarret smoothed the shawl over Moira's slender shoulders; then his hands fell to his side. "Your daughter told me Mary Michael and Ethan are marrying tonight. Can that be true?"

Before Moira could answer, Rennie interrupted from the threshold. "I'm not in the habit of lying, Mr. Sullivan."

Moira leveled Rennie with a stern look and a no-nonsense tone. "I don't think that's what Jarret meant, Mary Renee." She turned her attention back to Jarret. "Apparently it's quite true," she said. "I confess I was surprised myself when the messenger arrived with the invitation. Michael's timing leaves something to be desired."

"Better now," Rennie said, quickly rising to her twin's defense, "than after you've all left for the summerhouse."

"Yes," Moira said, sighing. "You're right, of course. It's only that I can't see the sense of rushing now."

"She's seven months pregnant, Mother."

"That's just it. Rushing would have been in order seven months ago." Moira went to the sideboard and poured herself a small glass of sherry. "I can't help but wonder if that man's marrying her because of the baby."

Now it was Jarret who spoke up in defense of his friend. "Ethan's about the bravest man I know, save for where your daughter's concerned. That baby may have given him the courage to ask Michael for her hand, but don't think for a minute he's not stupid in love with her."

Rennie smirked. "Stupid in love," she said, offering Jarret a sherry. "What an apt expression."

Moira watched her daughter and Jarret over the rim of her glass. "No possibility of that happening to either of you," she said solemnly.

Neither of them heard the faint sarcasm in Moira's tone or caught the mocking gleam in her eye. They answered in unison. "No possibility."

As far as Moira was concerned, their chorus meant they were already working together.

Chapter 2

Everyone was gathered in the judge's darkly paneled chambers. Jarret appreciated anew the power and influence of even the illegitimate side of John MacKenzie Worth's family. Judge Halsey was a long-time friend of Jay Mac's as well as Mary Michael's godfather. He seemed to be taking circumstances quite in stride, as if it were not at all unusual to perform a wedding in his private chambers shortly before midnight.

In the hush before the ceremony was ready to begin, Jarret asked Rennie, "Who's
your
godfather?"

Rennie offered him a smug glance. "You should be anxious. He is at least as well-connected as the judge."

Standing in front of them, Skye overheard the exchange and whispered to Jarret over her shoulder. "Don't worry, Mr. Sullivan, it's not the pope. Papa's a Presbyterian."

Rennie wrinkled her nose at her sister as soon as Skye turned around. It would serve Jarret Sullivan right if he
did
think it was the pope.

Jarret managed to temper his smile. Rennie may as well have telegraphed her thoughts; she was that easy to understand. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, and as her features softened and her hands grew still, he realized the judge was speaking.

Of all the things Jarret had anticipated happening on his trip to New York, he had not been able to foresee standing in as best man at his friend's wedding. He listened as Ethan and Mary Michael exchanged vows and heard the solemn purpose and promise in Ethan's voice, the loving commitment in Michael's. At the final pronouncement they could only stare at one another, neither moving, as if they'd forgotten everyone else serving witness.

Judge Halsey broke the expectant silence. "Well, go on, son, this is the time to kiss her."

Ethan grinned. Bending his head, he touched his mouth to Michael's. Her lips were soft and pliant beneath his; her mouth tasted faintly of peppermint. Her beautiful smile was full of promise when he drew back.

Jarret's gaze shifted from Ethan and Michael to the father of the bride. That very afternoon he had witnessed John MacKenzie Worth's stoic acceptance and deep regret at not being able to be present at Rennie's public wedding, but here, in the privacy of his old friend's sanctuary, there was a place for him with another of his daughters. Jarret could see the powerful man was powerfully moved.

Jay Mac pressed a handkerchief into Moira's hand even as he fought to temper his own emotion. She gave him a sideways look, a watery smile, and squeezed his hand. Mary Francis saw the affectionate exchange between her parents, and her own heart swelled with love. No one who saw Jay Mac and Moira together could doubt the depth of the commitment they shared. Mary Francis poked Maggie in the side with her elbow just as Moira leaned into Jay Mac and his hand came around her waist.

Maggie's smile mirrored her sister's as her eyes drifted from the wedded couple to her unwedded parents. She turned to Skye and saw that her younger sister had already observed the same thing. Simultaneously they glanced over their shoulders to look at Rennie. She seemed to have forgotten Jarret Sullivan's hovering presence for the moment because her mouth was curved in a gently wistful smile.

Jarret also observed Rennie's rare and beautiful smile and suspected, like her sisters, that he was no longer on Rennie's mind. He watched as Michael turned away from Ethan and sought out the dear, precious faces of her family. In a moment they were surrounding her, smothering her with hugs and good wishes. Jarret heard Ethan's low laughter and was surprised at the twinge of envy he felt as his friend was similarly taken into the fold.

"It's the right thing you've done," Moira whispered in Michael's ear. She drew back, took the measure of her daughter's glowing happiness, and nodded. "Sure, and you know it, don't you?"

"I know it, Mama." Michael glanced at Ethan. "He's the one."

Jarret intercepted Ethan's modest grin and laughed himself. He stepped out of the way as Mary Francis came forward to kiss her sister's cheek.

"I suppose he knows you're willful and stubborn and can't possibly honor that vow you made to obey."

Must be a family trait, Jarret thought, seeking out Rennie for a moment. She was eyeing the door, looking as if she was contemplating escape. Jarret caught her eye and gently admonished her with a shake of his head.

Rennie managed to catch herself before she stuck her tongue out at him. The thought that he had nearly reduced her to such childish behavior gave her pause. Gathering her composure, she turned her attention back to Mary Francis and Michael.

Mary Francis had just finished enumerating Michael's independent qualities. She was staring hard at the groom. "You know all of that, don't you?"

"I know it," he said solemnly. "I don't love her in spite of that. I love her because of it."