Page List

Font Size:

“Hasn’t it occurred to you that you could be pregnant?”

“Pregnant?” The dark green eyes widened like saucers. “Pregnant? Me? But we’ve only been married a little over a month.”

Lilah laughed again and cupped C.C.’s face in her hands. “You haven’t spent all that time playing pinochle, have you?”

C.C.’s mouth opened and closed before she managed to form a word. “It just never crossed my mind.... A baby.” Her eyes changed, misting, softening. “Oh, Lilah.”

“Could be Trenton St. James IV.”

“A baby,” C.C. repeated, and laid a hand over her stomach in a gesture that was filled with awe and protectiveness. “Do you really think?”

“I really think.” She slid back on the seat to hug C.C. tight. “I don’t have to ask you how you feel about it. It’s all over your face.”

“Don’t say anything to anyone yet. I want to be sure.” Laughing, she squeezed Lilah against her. “Suddenly I don’t feel tired at all. I’ll call the doctor first thing in the morning. Or maybe I should pick up one of those tests from the drugstore. I could do both.”

Lilah let her ramble. Long after C.C. had gone, the echoes of her joy remained in the room.

It was what the tower needed, Lilah thought. That jolt of pure happiness. She stayed where she was, content now, watching the moon rise. Half-full, bone white, it hung in the sky and had her dreaming.

What would it be like, being with someone, smugly married, having a child growing inside you? Making a life with someone who would know you so well. Know every part of you and love you despite the flaws. Maybe because of them.

Lovely, she thought. It would be simply lovely. And if she had yet to find that for herself, she had only to look at C.C. and Amanda to know it could happen.

With some regret she switched off the light and started downstairs to her room. The house was quiet now. She imagined it must be at least midnight, and everyone had gone to bed. A wise choice, she mused, but she couldn’t seem to shake the restlessness.

To comfort herself, she indulged in a long, fragrant bath before slipping into her favorite robe. Those were the little things that always pleased her—hot, scented water, cool, thin silk. Still unsettled, she walked out onto the terrace to see if the night air would lull her.

It was much too romantic, she thought. The glitter of moonlight silvering the trees, the quiet whoosh of water on rock, the scents from the garden. As she stood, a bird, as restless as she, began a lonely night song. It made her long for something. For someone. A touch, a whisper in the dark. An arm around her shoulders.

A mate.

Not just the physical, but the emotional, the spiritual partner. She had had men desire her and knew that could never be enough. There had to be someone who could look beyond the color of her hair or the shape of her face and into her heart.

Perhaps she was asking for too much, Lilah thought with a sigh. But wasn’t that better than asking for too little? In the meantime she would have to concentrate on other things and leave her heart in fate’s capricious hands.

She had started to turn back into her room when a movement caught her eye. In the swaying moonlight she saw two shadows bent low, moving with silent swiftness across the lawn. Before she could do more than register the shapes, they had melted into the garden.

She didn’t even think about it. A home was meant to be defended. Her bare feet were noiseless on the stone steps as she walked down them. Whoever was trespassing on Calhoun territory was about to get the scare of their lives.

Like a ghost, she slipped into the garden, the robe floating around her. There were voices, muffled and excited, a faint yellow beam of a flashlight. There was a laugh, quickly smothered, then the sound of a shovel striking earth.

That more than anything brought the Calhoun temper bubbling to the surface. With the courage of the righteous, she strode forward.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The shovel clanged on stone as it was dropped. The flashlight went spiraling into the azaleas. Two teenagers, wound up with the treasure hunt, looked around wildly for the source of the voice. They saw the pale figure of a woman draped in white. Summing up her quarry, Lilah lifted her arms for effect, knowing the full sleeves would billow nicely.

“I am guardian of the emeralds.” She nearly chuckled, pleased with the way her voice floated. “Do you dare to face the curse of the Calhouns? Hideous death is certain for any who defile this ground. Run, if you value your lives.”

They didn’t have to be told twice. The treasure map they had paid ten bucks for fluttered to the ground as they raced back down the path, shoving each other and tripping over their own scrambling feet. Chuckling to herself, Lilah picked up the map.

She’d seen its like before. Some enterprising soul was making them up and selling them to gullible tourists. After shoving it into her pocket, she decided to give her two uninvited guests a little extra boost. She dashed after them. Ready to send up a ghostly wail, she burst out of the garden.

The wail turned into a grunt as she rammed into another shadow. Stopped in a dead run, Max overbalanced, swore, then went tumbling to the ground on top of her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s me,” she managed, then sucked in a breath. “What the hell are you doing?”