And suddenly Sean understood.
Lily wasn’t frowning from confusion. She was annoyed. Annoyed because he’d barged in on her and Lover Boy.
Lily didn’t give a damn about him.
At the realization, his jumbled thoughts at seeing her again, all those newborn hopes inside him, faded to black.
His brain must have shorted after that. Suave, sophisticated guy that he was, Sean had blurted out, “Hey, this wasn’t my idea. I only came because Kaye begged me to—”
Stupendously dumb. He knew better, had known since he was eight years old. If you wanted to push Lily Banyon into the red zone, all it took was a whispered, “Kaye.”
The door to her hotel room had come at his face faster than a bullet train. He guessed he should be grateful she hadn’t been using a more lethal weapon, like the volleyball she’d smashed in his face during gym class back in eleventh grade. Even so, he’d been forced to jump back or have the number seventeen imprinted on his forehead.
Their last skirmish, the one back in Rome, he’d definitely lost. He’d stood outside her room like a fool, banging on the door, Lover Boy’s laughter his only reply. Finally, the
pensione
’s night clerk had appeared, insisting he leave
la bella americana
in peace. He’d gone away, humiliated and oddly deflated.
It was past time he evened the score, maybe got a few points up on her. He walked over to his place, the center of a U-shaped configuration of tables, and set his papers down, pretending to consult them. Instead, he inspected Lily covertly, hoping to detect a weakness, some tiny chink in her armor.
Damn her for being more beautiful than ever,
he thought. A single glance and he began wanting things he knew were impossible. Sean tore his gaze away, and became aware for the first time that Lily hadn’t come to the meeting alone. On her right was a young woman who bore an alarming resemblance to the teenagers he’d spent the afternoon with at Coral Beach High. Dozens upon dozens of cornrows covered her head, the thin braids ending in brilliantly colored beads. At the moment, she was nodding in reply to some remark of Evelyn’s, making her braids sway and jangle.
The man next to the young woman was a different story altogether. He had that ultra-groomed look, as if he spent way too much time in front of a mirror.
And it
doesn’t look like he uses the hours to practice his smile,
Sean thought, disliking the sneer on the guy’s face. Sean pushed aside his less-than-favorable impression of Lily’s two companions. What he thought of them hardly mattered, not when it was Lily’s own presence that bore all the signs of a catastrophe in the making.
The time had come, Sean determined, to face the woman of his nightmares, of his dreams.
CHAPTER FIVE
The tension had been building inside her since that awful airborne moment when Lily read Sean’s name. Now that she was standing in the conference room, it was almost more than she could bear. Like live wires, her nerves sparked with dangerous intensity.
She’d spotted Sean instantly, of course, despite the fact that his back was turned. His dark head topped most of the room’s occupants. When he remained on the other side of the room, deep in conversation with a little old lady, Lily let out a sigh of relief. His attention elsewhere, all she had to contend with was the sight of his broad shoulders, how well they filled his olive green jacket, with the short, sun-kissed curls of his brown hair just skimming the jacket’s collar. That alone was disconcerting enough. Quickly, Lily averted her eyes.
About fifteen other people were gathered in the conference room. Since joining the research department at the Marine Center, Lily had participated in many such meetings and committees. She knew there’d be representatives from the planning board, the town council, the Department of Parks and Recreation, as well as anyone else keen on exercising his or her democratic right to hold forth in a public setting. The thing about these meetings, there was always someone with an agenda, sometimes an obvious one, other times so deeply hidden that trying to unearth it required the cunning of an archaeologist at an excavation site—you had to know where to dig. What Lily found disheartening was the monotony of the root causes that motivated so many people—money, power, or often a nasty cocktail of the two.
Despite her general aversion to committees and panels, Lily still found one aspect of them entertaining. She loved playing the game of
Guess Who
. As with marine biology, it involved determining category and type of species. On dry land, the challenge translated into matching faces to titles—she’d picked out the parks and recreation rep in a mere five seconds: mid to late twenties, well-worn but pressed khakis, white polo shirt with an embroidered insignia over the left breast. Behind the gold wire rim glasses, his face had that open, all-American expression. He was one of the few people opting for mineral water rather than the catered coffee, which had just been wheeled in on a linen-covered tea wagon.
Lily moved on to a more challenging level: the suits. One was particularly eye-catching. A shiny, bluish-gray double-breasted jacket with matching trousers, the look was completed by a pair of glossy tasseled loafers. The man inside the suit was as slick as the clothes he wore. His heavily pomaded hair was the inky black of shoe polish, his carefully trimmed goatee the same improbable shade. Lily put him somewhere in his fifties and watched, fascinated, as he worked the room. In constant motion, he would target a group, slap backs with hearty enthusiasm, and then veer off again. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought
he
was mayor.
Lily’s species cataloging came to an abrupt end when, spritelike, the old lady who’d been talking with Sean materialized in front of her. Decked out in a blinding lime green pantsuit, she thrust a thin hand toward Lily. “Dr. Banyon, welcome. I’m Evelyn Roemer, Mayor McDermott’s secretary.”
“Hello.” Lily shook the proffered hand, careful not to squeeze too hard. Ms. Roemer looked fragile enough to fly away in a strong breeze.
Standing next to Lily, Karen exclaimed, “Wow! I love your hair color. Did you get that done around here?”
Evelyn Roemer fingered a cluster of spring tight curls that were a delicate shade of . . . raspberry. “Why thank you, dearie,” she replied with a gratified smile. “No, I have this special formula I mix myself. That way I know it’ll come out just right.” Her bright gaze shifted back to Lily. “Did you have any trouble finding the condominium, Dr. Banyon?”
“Oh, no. No trouble at all.”
“We certainly do appreciate your willingness to take over Dr. Lesnesky’s work. We were left in something of a bind when he fell ill.”
“The Marine Center’s primary goal is to further awareness and understanding of our oceans’ ecosystems,” Lily recited dutifully. She had a vision of her boss, Simone, applauding Lily’s diplomatic effort on the center’s behalf. . . .
Boy, Simone is going to owe me big-time.
Lily had just finished introducing Karen and John to Evelyn Roemer when Sean approached the group.
“Ahh, Mayor McDermott,” Evelyn Roemer said cheerfully, when Lily fell abruptly silent. “I was just chatting with Dr. Banyon and her assistants. Karen, John, allow me to introduce you to Sean McDermott, Coral Beach’s mayor. Mayor McDermott, this is Karen Masur and John Granger. Karen’s an underwater photographer, and John will be assisting Dr. Banyon with her research.” Evelyn paused as Sean shook their hands. “Of course, you and Dr. Banyon need no introduction. I understand you are already acquainted.”
As one, Lily and Sean ignored Evelyn’s remark.
“Evelyn,” Sean said. “Let’s get the panel members seated and call the meeting to order. Now that Dr. Banyon and her assistants are here, I think we should begin without further delay.”
His secretary nodded briskly. “Certainly, Mr. Mayor.” She turned to John Granger. “John, you look like a strapping young man. Would you mind moving a few chairs for me, perhaps the ones over in the corner? I’d like to put them on either side of Dr. Banyon’s place, so the panel can meet the three of you together. Come along, Karen, we’ll get some refreshments. I doubt you’ve had time to eat, what with all your traveling.”
Sean watched Lily turn as if to follow them. Clearly she wished to avoid him. While Sean wasn’t terribly eager to chat about the good old days, Lily’s patent reluctance to speak to him had the predictably perverse effect of his being determined to do so.
“So, your Lungness, I see you’ve finally decided to come up for air.” The nickname was a relic from their swim team days, and had popped out unintentionally. Still, it had the desired result: Lily stopped in her tracks.
She turned and faced him. “I assume this is one of your attempts at wit. As usual, though, you’ve fallen way short of the mark. I have no idea what you’re referring to, nor do I particularly care. However, if you call me that again, I’ll walk right out that door.”
“What? Your Lungness?” he repeated, all innocence, ignoring the fact that his behavior was childish, unprofessional, too.
How could she stand there looking so coolly collected, as if seeing him again meant absolutely nothing to her?
Because, you idiot,
an inner voice mocked,
that’s exactly
what you are to Lily. Nothing.
Lily’s nails gouged the palms of her hands. From the gleam in Sean’s hazel eyes, she knew he remembered how much she’d detested being called Her Lungness. Years ago, someone on their swim team had dreamed up the moniker because Lily was able to swim underwater for the entire length of the fifty-meter pool in one breath, then turn around for the return trip before surfacing. But Lily had always thought the name stuck, especially with the guys on the team, not on account of her incredible lung capacity, but because by the time she was fourteen, her bra size was already a 36C.
The recollection of those awkward adolescent days had Lily’s shoulders rounding—as they had in the past. It was a futile attempt to make everything about her smaller, more conventional.
The gleam in Sean’s eyes intensified, and Lily read it for what it was: satisfaction. She jerked her spine to regal stiffness. “Knock it off, McDermott,” she hissed.
It was silly to have worried,
Sean thought, relaxing. He could handle the return of Lily Banyon, no problem. He only had to keep pushing the right buttons.
“Sorry. I was only trying to jar your memory a bit. After all, it’s been so long since you were home. I suppose you’ve been too busy saving the oceans all these years to come back and visit your family.”
His comment stung, but Lily refused to justify her actions to Sean McDermott, of all people. “That’s right, I have. Why don’t you get this meeting started,
Mayor.
” Lily spat the word softly. She spun on her heels and strode away to where John was rearranging chairs under Evelyn Roemer’s vigilant command.
And Sean was treated to a knockout view of her long, shapely legs. Legs made impossibly longer thanks to her strappy, three-inch-heeled sandals. His gaze traveled upward and stalled. He swallowed in an effort to dislodge the quartzlike lump lodged in his windpipe, created by the sight of Lily’s enticingly rounded buttocks wrapped in a snug, cream-colored skirt whose hemline ended miles short of her knees.
Lily had come a long way in the dress department. In the old days, she invariably opted for shapeless, baggy clothes that offered no hint of the body underneath, using them and her long, thick, blond hair as a protective shield. In the cold war between them, Sean always thought of it as Lily’s very own iron curtain.
How in the world was he going to lead this blasted meeting with the image of Dr. Lily Banyon’s high-octane body burning up his brain cells? And if—rather make that
when
—he blew it, he knew exactly who’d be the first one laughing her bright blond head off.
Lily was sure the wild hammering of her pulse was from righteous fury. She didn’t care if Sean had become a devastatingly attractive male, his face all strong planes, his body six feet of elegant muscle. So what if his olive green jacket and his azure blue shirt enhanced the whirl of green and brown in his hazel eyes, making them deep and oddly compelling?
She was immune.
Besides, he’d always looked good. There’d never been an ungainly moment in Sean McDermott’s development, his body always athletic and beautifully proportioned. In addition, the countless hours of training demanded by Hal Storey, their swim coach, had sculpted Sean’s adolescent body to the point where seeing him in his racing Speedo could cause a female heart palpitations. She could recall vividly how the girls on their swim team used to park themselves on the bleachers and ogle Sean, as he stood perched on the starting block before a race. Breathless sighs would sound when Sean’s body dropped down into his racing start, his fingers gripping the edge of the slanted platform, the muscles in his body tensing in anticipation. Their breathless sighs were transformed into gasps of appreciation as the official’s gun sounded and Sean’s body shot forward, rocketlike, his trajectory a smooth arc over, then into, the water. A weird, brief moment of silence followed, an expectant hush, and then Sean was surfacing, already halfway down the length of the pool, slicing through the water, the effortlessness of his stroke testimony to his young body’s incredible power. Excited cheers erupted, accompanying the cadence of his stroke.
Sean was as handsome as ever. No, more so. Lily resisted thinking about how
much
more—how his body had matured, his shoulders even broader. How his mouth, how his face—with skin scraped daily by the blade of a razor—offered such an intriguing and inviting contrast of curved smoothness and the rough hint of light brown stubble. How his voice was lower, deeper. And rich with dislike for her.
But Lily wasn’t going to think about Sean. Once this meeting was over, she’d make sure she steered clear of Mayor McDermott.
Out of sight, out of mind
. . . a cliché she’d repeated to herself for ten long years.