Dream Trilogy by Nora Roberts Page A

down to pat his cheek. “How long are you going to be in the area?”
    He took her wrist, knowing it irritated her, and rose. “As long as it takes.”
    “Well, then.” She always seemed to forget he was four inches taller than she. Until she was faced with that long, rangy build. “It’ll be just like old times, won’t it? I think I’ll go in and get into some dry clothes.”
    She kissed his cheeks briskly, called “ciao” over her shoulder, and strolled down the path toward the house.
    Josh watched her go, hating himself for being annoyed that she hadn’t been teary and wrecked. Hating himself more,much more, for the undeniable fact that he was, and always had been, in love with her.
     
    It took Margo six tries before she settled on the proper outfit for lunch. The flowing silk tunic and slacks in fragile pink seemed just casual enough while maintaining a certain elegance and style. She accented the outfit with gold door-knocker earrings, a couple of bangle bracelets, and a long braided chain. Shoes added another ten minutes before she was inspired to go barefoot. That would lend an air of insouciance.
    She couldn’t explain why she was always compelled to impress Josh, or struggle to outdo him. Sibling rivalry seemed too tame and much too ordinary an explanation.
    It was true enough that he had teased her unmercifully as a child from his lofty advantage of four years; had tormented her as a teenager; and had, as their paths crossed in adulthood, made her feel foolish, shallow, and irresponsible in turn.
    One of the reasons the Bella Donna contract had meant so much to her was that it was a tangible measure of success that she’d been able to flaunt under his disapproving nose. Now she didn’t have that any longer. All she had was image—bolstered by the wardrobe and glitters she’d desperately collected over the years.
    She could only thank God that she’d gotten out of the mess in Athens before he’d had to come riding in on his white charger to save her. That would have been a humiliation he’d never have let her forget.
    It was Laura’s laughter she heard first after descending the stairs and wandering toward the south terrace. It made Margo stop. That’s what had been missing the past couple of days, she realized. Laura’s laughter. She’d been too tangled in her own miseries to notice. However Josh’s presence got on her nerves, she had to be grateful—he’d made Laura laugh again.
    She was smiling when she stepped out and joined them.
    “What’s the joke?”
    Josh merely leaned back with his water glass and studied her, but Laura reached for her hand. “Josh is always telling me some horrible secret crime he committed when we were kids. I think he does it to terrify me about what Ali and Kayla are pulling off under my nose.”
    “The girls are angels,” Margo said as she sat down at the round glass table under an arbor of sweetly blooming wisteria. “Josh was the devil’s spawn.” She spread foie gras on a toast point and bit in. “What’s the crime?”
    “Do you remember that night when you and I went out to Seraphina’s cliffs with Matt Bolton and Biff Milard? It was summer, we were just fifteen. Kate wasn’t with us because she was a year younger and couldn’t date yet.”
    Margo cast her mind back. “We double-dated with Matt and Biff a lot that summer. Until Biff tried to unhook your bra and you bloodied his nose.”
    “What?” Josh immediately came to attention. “What do you mean he tried to unhook your bra?”
    “I’m sure you’ve attempted the maneuver once or twice, Josh,” Margo said dryly.
    “Shut up, Margo. You never told me he’d tried to . . .” His eyes took on a warrior’s glint. “What else did he try?”
    Laura sighed and decided she was enjoying the salmon cakes more than she’d anticipated. “Nothing worth you flying to Los Angeles to hunt him down and shoot him like a dog for. In any case, if I’d wanted him to unhook my bra, I