True Love by Jude Deveraux Page B

“What are you working on now?” She heard him pop the top on a can of Coke.
    “Nothing important.”
    “Who designed what you’re building?”
    “Nobody anyone’s ever heard of.”
    “Since I’m involved in architecture, I may know of him.”
    “They probably got the plan out of a magazine,” he said. “Here’s your drink. Want me to finish the fish?”
    “Sure,” she said. As she removed the glove and passed it to him, she took the drink he held out and met his eyes. What a liar, she thought.
    What a beauty, he thought.
    She went over to the table, sat down, and watched while he filleted the fish. Odd, she thought, that he cut it exactly the way her father had taught her to do it. Not a single stroke was different. There was a long, awkward pause. Maybe it would help if she directed him toward the small structures she’d seen hanging in his studio. “Nantucket is beautiful,” she said.
    “It is.”
    “Too bad you’re not staying. I’d love to see more of the houses on the island. Actually, I like any buildings. Well, with the exception of concrete block structures, and a few others. Anyway, I saw what I think were two garden sheds on Main Street that took my breath away. White, octagonal, green domed roofs, linked by a garden seat. Quite extraordinary.”
    Jared said nothing. He wasn’t about to get rooked into being a tour guide. She’d find out his profession soon enough, then she’d turn into a human question machine and drive him crazy. “How’s your drink? Too strong?”
    “I was wondering if you’d put any rum in it.”
    “That’s—” Surprise made him stop talking.
    “That’s what?”
    “It’s just that that’s what my aunt used to say.”
    “Oh,” Alix said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that. Reminders of her must be painful.” She hesitated. “She was a nice woman.”
    “You remember her?”
    Alix was startled at his question and wasn’t sure what to reply. “I was here when I was four. Do you remember a lot from when you were that young?”
    A happy family, he thought. Father alive; mother alive. There were no clouds in their lives back then. “I remember this house,” he said, “and I remember Aunt Addy being in it.”
    There was a softness in his eyes that made her want to tell him the truth. “Did she sit in the family room and make something with her hands?”
    For the first time he didn’t look as though he’d just eaten something sour. “She did embroidery, and there are framed pieces around the house.”
    “And in the front parlor she had ladies to tea. I remember little cakes with yellow icing roses.”
    “Yes,” Jared said, smiling. “She loved yellow roses.”
    “You must miss her a lot,” Alix said softly.
    “I do. I spent the last three months of her life with her. She was a grand lady.” For a moment he looked at Alix. “You know how to fillet fish, but do you know how to cook them?”
    “I’m no chef but I do know how to fry bass. And I can make hush puppies.”
    “With beer or milk?”
    “Beer.”
    “And cayenne pepper in the batter?”
    “Of course.”
    “There isn’t much food in this kitchen, but I have onions and cornmeal in the guesthouse.”
    Alix realized that he was asking her to dinner. “Why don’t you go get them and I’ll …” She shrugged.
    “That sounds good.”
    The instant he was out the door, Alix ran up the stairs to her bedroom. Her suitcases had arrived but she hadn’t unpacked them. And the bags of clothes Izzy had bought for her were on the floor. But it would be too much to change clothes. Too obvious, too eager.
    She ran to the bathroom to put on a little mascara and a blot of lipstick. Why was her face so shiny?! She used the pretty compact her mother had given her and toned down her skin.
    She got back to the kitchen just as he opened the door. Their eyes met, but Alix turned away, her heart seeming to flutter. Too soon, she told herself. Too soon after Eric, too soon after meeting this