Part 55 (2/2)

”Maggie and I fell in love that night. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. You've heard of laughing eyes. I had, too, but I had never seen them until that night. She glowed with life and vitality.”

His regret and sadness seeped through her. She remembered her mother's unhappiness. Two young lives destroyed. Why?

”And it was Prescott who framed you?”

”Yes.”

”And then someone killed him. So he obviously didn't act on his own.”

”He could have been killed for some other reason,” Gage interjected. ”From everything I could discover, he had enemies. He was a gambler, for one thing.”

”I could buy that if there weren't so many other deaths that are related in some way.”

But they were getting away from the subject she most wanted to hear about. Her mother. ”How long were you and my mother together?”

”Four months. Long enough to know we wanted to be married. My parents objected as much as I knew hers would. She wasn't Cajun. She wouldn't understand our ways. They wanted me to take over the tavern, but I'd never wanted that. I wanted to go to college and become someone important. Well, I became someone important, but not in the way I thought.”

”Ah, but you have,” she said gently. ”You've helped so many kids.”

”Except my own,” he said. ”Except my own.”

After lunch, Gage asked her if she wanted to explore the bayou with him in the canoe. ”I'll take the cell phone. There's not much we can do until DeWitt calls back.”

”And Dom?”

”I already asked him. He wants to make some phone calls. I think he needs some time to absorb everything.”

She understood. It had taken her days to absorb everything. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like to discover you'd had a daughter thirty-three years earlier. ”Beast?”

”Beast will stay here. I don't think anyone knows about this place, but he sure as h.e.l.l will let everyone know if there's lurkers around.”

She liked the idea of being alone with him. She needed to relax. She liked Dom but there was no question that there was an unease between them. She was the daughter of his love and probably his enemy.

She watched as Gage dragged the canoe to the dock and nervously eyed it as he settled it in the water. She had never been in one, and she knew how fragile and easily unbalanced one could be. She was not good at balance. Neither was she good at grace.

He must have caught her apprehension because he grinned. ”Believe it or not, Beast has gone canoeing with me. If he can do it...” He left the sentence unfinished.

Falling into a bayou full of alligators and snakes was not her idea of fun. But if Beast could do it, she certainly could. And the prospect of being with Gage in his territory was irresistible.

He got in first, then held out his hand to her. The strength in that hand helped as she stepped in. His other hand caught her and guided her down onto a seat. For a moment, she feared she would tip the boat, and then she caught the balance.

He sat down and handed her a paddle. ”Just watch me,” he said with a lopsided grin that made her want to do anything.

Beast looked dismayed from his spot on the dock.

”Not this time,” Gage told him. ”Take care of Dom. Guard.”

The dog turned and trotted back to the shack.

Gage put his paddle in the water and made what looked like effortless strokes. She watched him for several minutes.

”You do the exact same thing on the other side. Try to match my rhythm.”

Easier said than done. She leaned over and the canoe started to tip. She leaned in the opposite direction. She watched as he balanced the canoe. ”Don't lean,” he said. ”Use your arms until you find the balance.”

She tried again.

This time the canoe moved faster. She found her rhythm and started to look around. Moss hung from trees rising from the water. Water flowers floated on the surface.

She had never heard this kind of peace. There was the buzzing of insects, the call of a bird, the sound of the paddles, but there was a human silence. A breeze softened the heavy moisture-laden heat. The aroma of flowers and vegetation filled the air.

The world and its dangers seemed a million miles away. She was flooded with a sense of peace as the canoe sliced though the waters. An alligator sunned itself on a bank. A bird sang its song. She understood now the lure of the swamp and the bayous, the sensuous feeling of timelessness.

He turned and looked at her, his slow smile mesmerizing her. He knew that she was succ.u.mbing to the magic. ”When the world gets too violent,” he said softly, ”I come here. Nothing changes here. I imagine it was like this five hundred years ago. I always get balance.”

It wasn't a word she would have expected him to use. He'd always seemed more like an action person. Always in movement. Always restless. Here there was a peace about him.

Layers and layers. How intriguing to explore them. He was, she decided, the most complex man she had ever met. She wanted to lean over and push back a lock of sandy hair that fell over his forehead. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and he had unb.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt so the breeze could reach his body. In addition to being the most complex man, he was also the s.e.xiest. And at the moment, he oozed s.e.xuality.

She almost dropped the darn paddle.

Whether or not he sensed her feelings, he guided the canoe toward a piece of land that jutted outward. He hopped out and pulled the boat up, then held out his hand to her. She took it, her hand fitting in his so naturally. He pulled her to him, against him, and he kissed her.

They had kissed before. They had made love before. But this was on an entirely different level. She felt the kiss through to her bones. It was tender and savage, pa.s.sionate yet comforting, soothing. It was both demanding and giving.

She leaned against him, absorbing the love and care inherent in every caress.

She wished they weren't standing in the middle of a swamp.

His cell phone rang.

She silently cursed the intrusion of modern technology in a place where time seemed to stand still.

She heard his side of the conversation.

”Yeah?”

”You have to be kidding.” Not a question.

”You sure about this?” A question.

Then, ”Public record now, right?”

A pause. ”No one will know where it came from. Thanks, buddy.” He snapped the phone closed.

She waited for an explanation.

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