Kiss and Tell (3 page)

“You’re always trying to convince me that along with being six years older than I am, you’re also six years wiser.” Leila and her brother sat on the deck overlooking the ocean, watching the sunrise.

As always, Simon was there for her. He was her brother, but he was also her friend—he had been for as long as Leila could remember. He’d never talked down to her. He’d always treated her as if she were a peer. Which, now that they were both in their thirties, she was.

But her friendship with her brother hadn’t always been perfect. Back when Leila was younger, Marsh’s visits to the island had brought discord to the otherwise harmonious relationship between the Hunt siblings. As a child, Leila had been jealous of Marsh and Simon’s friendship. Jealous and a little awed. The two boys had as strong a bond as Leila and her best friend, Frankie, yet Marsh only lived on Sunrise Key during his vacations.

On the other side of the house, several of the more stalwart partygoers were still dancing. The music sounded ghostly as it was carried across the lawn and around the house by the wind.

Leila fingered the gossamer fabric of her Cinderella gown. “So tell me, oh wise one.” She looked up to find Simon watching her over the rim of his coffee cup. “What the heck is wrong with me, that I would kiss a total stranger as if the world were coming to an end?”

Simon sat forward, pushing the brim of his hat back to see her better in the predawn light. “You mean, like, tongues?”

“Totally. This man now knows the inside of my mouth better than my dentist.”

Simon laughed. “Wow. How unlike you.”

“No kidding,” Leila said morosely. “I’ve kissed exactly five men in my entire life. And before I kissed them, I knew their complete background and history. I knew how many parking tickets they’d ever received and whether or not they paid them on time. I knew the names of their kindergarten teachers. I knew their SAT scores and their GMATs. I knew their favorite flavor of ice cream and whether they liked sugar cones or those other icky waffle ones. It was ludicrous. I kissed this guy and actually saw fireworks.”

“There
were
fireworks,” Simon pointed out.

“It’s crazy.” Leila ignored him. “I lost my balance. He swept me off my feet.”

“Maybe you had too much champagne,” Simon suggested.

“Two dinky glasses? That can’t be it.”

“Who is he?” Simon asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“That’s my point here, Si. I honestly don’t know. His beeper went off, and he went dashing out of here. He said don’t go anywhere. He said he’d be right back. But he vanished. I spent the rest of the night looking for him.” Leila stared out at the water, watching it reflect the glow of light in the east. “God, am I stupid, or what?”

“You don’t even have a clue?”

Leila exhaled in exasperation. “All I know is that he’s taller than I am. How much taller I can’t tell you. He’s male, he’s strong, he wears a beeper, and he looks good in black. How many men did you invite to this party? A hundred? That description should fit, oh, ninety-five of ’em.”

“What kind of costume was he wearing?” Simon asked. “Maybe I know who he was.”

“Ninja,” Leila said. “He was a ninja.”

“Hmmm.” Simon took another pensive sip of coffee. “That’s a tough one. I don’t think I talked to a single ninja all night. I saw at least four of them, but I wasn’t sure who they were. You know, the mask and everything.”

“My point exactly.”

“So what does this mean?” Simon stretched his long legs and rested his cowboy-booted feet on the deck railing. “You’re frenching it with some other guy while old what’s-his-name, the guy who wants to marry you, isn’t around?”

“Ugh, you make it sound so tawdry,” Leila moaned.

“It
wasn’t
tawdry?” he asked.

“No! It was…”

“What?”

“Magic.” Leila closed her eyes and let her head fall back. “Oh no, did I just say that?”

“I heard you say magic.” Simon chuckled. “Thank God.”

Leila’s eyes shot open. “Thank
God?!
Whose side are you on? I’m losing my mind and you’re giving prayers of thanks?”

“It’s just that I was afraid you were actually going to say yes to this Elliot bozo and never give yourself a chance to really fall in love.”

Leila stared at her brother. His hair was blond, like hers, but wavy, not curly. His face was handsome, with refined features. His nose was perfectly sculpted with slightly flaring nostrils, his lips were graceful yet masculine, his chin strong without being mulishly stubborn. His eyes were a truer shade of blue than hers, surrounded by long, thick, dark eyelashes that seemed to be nature’s way of laughing at all of the women who spent a fortune on mascara.

Her brother’s face was elegant, Leila thought sourly. Didn’t it figure.

“I think,” Simon continued, “that maybe you’re in love with this ninja, whoever he is.”

Leila laughed, a quick, loud burst of disbelieving air. “You think I’m in
love
with someone that I not only have never met, but that I’ve never actually laid eyes on?”

“Stranger things have happened.” Simon shrugged. “They say there’s a perfect match for everyone. Maybe this guy’s perfect for you, and deep down, you recognized that.”

Leila rolled her eyes. “I’d rather go with the too-much-champagne theory.”

Footsteps on the stairs leading up to the deck made Leila sit up. Maybe it was the ninja. Maybe he was coming back.

But it was only two of Simon’s friends, coming to say good night before they left.

Simon didn’t stand up as he shook the couple’s hands, and as Leila excused herself, she felt his eyes on her. She knew he’d picked up on the fact that she was still waiting—like a fool—for that damned ninja to come back.

Leila went into the house, gathering up a trayful of champagne glasses and little plates as she headed toward the kitchen. Simon was a firm believer in recycling, and he never used paper or plastic if he could help it. He’d rented thick, unbreakable glasses and plates from a caterer up in Venice. And he’d hired a local team of cleaners—most of whom had also attended the party—to come over that afternoon and get everything washed and picked up. Still, it couldn’t hurt to help.

And as long as she was helping with the cleaning, she didn’t have to think.

She didn’t have to think about Elliot’s plane landing on the tiny island in a matter of hours. She didn’t have to think about her conversation with Simon. And mostly, she didn’t have to think about the mysterious man who had kissed her and disappeared.

Where had he gone? Why hadn’t he come back?

How was it possible that she’d fallen in love
and
had her heart broken all in the span of a few short hours?

Oh, no way, she told herself firmly. The things Simon had been saying to her were making her confused, that’s all. Tonight’s little adventure had nothing to do with love. She was simply overtired, that was it.

Still, she couldn’t deny that those kisses were incomparable to anything she’d ever experienced before.

“Hey, Cinderella.”

Leila looked up to see Marsh Devlin standing in the kitchen door.

“I was sure you’d have turned into a pumpkin long before this,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing his bathing suit and a T-shirt, with a towel draped over one shoulder. His hair was wet, and, naturally, it flopped down into his eyes. With an apologetic smile, Marsh raked his hair back, out of his face. “If I’d’ve known you were awake, I’d’ve asked you to join me for a swim.”

“What are you doing up?” Leila asked, drying her hands on a towel. “I thought you’d gone to bed hours ago.”

Marsh frowned slightly. “Didn’t Simon tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“About the baby.”

Leila stared at Marsh blankly.

“Kim Kavanaugh went into hard labor shortly before midnight. I had to get over to the clinic quickly. I asked Simon to tell you.”

Leila shook her head. “He never mentioned it. His mermaid friend got all jealous when he danced with Alice in Wonderland, so he was a little distracted. Was it a girl or a boy?”

Now it was Marsh’s turn to blink at her. But he caught on quickly enough.

“Girl. Born about half three this morning. Mother and daughter were doing fine, so I came back a little while ago to get some rest.” He smiled. “I should’ve known you’d still be up.”

Marsh had been out all night, delivering a baby. That explained his oddness, his nervousness, why he was looking at her so strangely.

Leila sank down into one of the kitchen chairs. Boy, she was tired. How could Marsh stay out all night delivering a baby and look so refreshed, so
good?
And as long as she was lamenting foolishly, why did he have to be so damned handsome? “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. But truth be told, Kim did most of the hard work. Good thing she was there to calm Noah and me down.”

Leila snorted, resting her chin in her hand. “You’re the King of Calm. I’m sure you were fine.”

Marsh shook his head. “This was my fourteenth baby. I have delivered thirteen others. But each one is as if it’s the first, Leila. I hold that brand new baby in my hands, and it’s…magic. It’s fantastic. It’s impossibly miraculous.”

He came into the kitchen, took the teapot off the stove, and filled it with water. “Of course, right now everything seems rather impossibly miraculous,” he continued, tossing another smile in her direction as he lit the burner of the gas stove.

Leila stared at him. He was positively humming with happiness. She’d never seen him like this before. It made him seem charmingly sweet—and amazingly attractive. She had to pull her eyes away from the firm muscles of his back that were stretching the thin cotton of his T-shirt. That was funny. She’d always thought of him as skinny—attractive, but skinny. Where had all those muscles come from? She tried to remember the last time she’d seen him in a T-shirt, but she couldn’t.

God, what was wrong with her tonight? First she kissed a total stranger and now she was openly ogling Marsh.

“I
am
sorry that I had to run out of the party,” he said.

“Simon outdid himself this time.” Leila rested her head on the table. “It was a terrific party. It’s too bad you missed it.”

Marsh rummaged through the cupboards, searching for the tea tin. “I hope it didn’t get
too
much better after I left.” He glanced at her over his shoulder.

If he only knew….

“Can I interest you in a cup of tea?” He took two mugs out of the cabinet, holding one in each hand as he turned to face her.

He wanted desperately to talk, Leila knew that much from the strange light in his brown eyes. But he wanted to talk about new babies and miracles, and all she could think about was who the heck had kissed her at midnight, and what all these feelings burbling around inside of her meant. And why on
earth
did the mystery man’s failure to return make her ache so badly?

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not up for it right now.”

“But Leila—”

“Marsh, Elliot’s going to be here by dinnertime, and I suddenly feel as if my entire world’s turned upside down.” Yes, that was truly what it felt like. It felt as if someone had come into her life and taken all of her neat and tidy shelves and cabinets and pushed them over, into a big, disorganized pile. She wanted to get it all back into at least some semblance of order before Elliot showed up. But something told her it wasn’t going to be that easy.

On the stove, the kettle began to whistle. Marsh turned off the heat.

“Elliot. Of course. Right. I’d forgotten about him. Silly of me, really. Have you decided how you’re going to tell him—I mean, I’ll help you, you know. If you want…”

Leila stared at Marshall. “Tell him?”

“About what happened at the party.” His wet hair fell forward into his face, and he swiped at it with his towel. “I mean, it
does
seem rather significant and—”

“Oh, this is
perfect!
” Leila exploded. “I should’ve known Simon couldn’t keep a secret. He told you everything, didn’t he? About the fireworks and…everything?”

“Simon?” Marsh frowned. “What did he—”

“This is just great.” Leila stood up so suddenly that the chair she’d been sitting in fell backward with a crash. How could Simon have done this to her? How could he have told Marsh Devlin—of all people—about that amazing, fabulous, devastating kiss? How
could
he? But of course, Simon told Marsh, Leila realized. Simon told Marsh everything. Private matters weren’t private for long on Sunrise Key. Leila was a fool for thinking otherwise.

But now Marsh knew her deepest, darkest, most terrible secret. How wretchedly awful. How totally, mind-numbingly humiliating. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Leila, what are you—”

“Damn you, and damn Simon and…and…damn
everything!
”

Leila hiked up the skirt of her ball gown and ran from the room, leaving Marsh staring after her.

What in bloody hell was going on?

His tea long since forgotten, Marsh went in search of the man he suspected held the answers to all of his questions.

Simon.

THREE

“A
ND
L
EILA HONESTLY
doesn’t know who kissed her?” Marsh asked.

Simon looked closely at his friend, and Marsh smiled wryly, knowing without a doubt that he’d just given himself away.

“My God, it was
you,
” Simon said.

Marsh sat down wearily in the deck chair next to Simon’s and stared out at the ocean. “It was me,” he admitted.

“But, Dev, that’s great.”

“
Was
great,” Marsh corrected him. “Past tense. Right now it’s not so great after all.” All of his elation, all of the euphoria that had come from having Leila—lovely, brilliant, sparkling, gorgeous Leila—in his arms had long since vanished. True, he’d kissed her at midnight, but she hadn’t kissed him. At least, not knowingly. “What the hell was she doing anyway, kissing a total bloody stranger like that?”

Simon poured himself another cup of coffee from the thermos next to him on the table. “Don’t be so British. The important thing here is that Leila’s not going to marry that bozo, Elliot.”

“Oh, and what?” Marsh didn’t hide his skepticism. “I suppose you think now she’s going to marry
me.
”

Simon took a long sip of his coffee. “Is that what you want?”

Marsh looked into his friend’s clear blue eyes and found not a trace of recrimination, prejudgment, or blame. There was only trust…and friendship. Years and years of true friendship.

The truth was, Marsh wanted—desperately—to make love to Leila. He wanted to love her in the very physical sense of the word. But…marriage? The thought was extremely appealing. Leila—permanently his. But it was also terrifying.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “All I know is, I’m in love with your sister, Simon. I think I have been for years. It’s just…”

Even with Simon, who knew him better than anyone on earth, it was so hard to open up. And what was he supposed to say? That he was scared to death? Scared that Leila wouldn’t love him…and scared to hell that she would? Scared she’d actually marry him…and then turn around and leave him someday, the way his father and mother had left each other?

“I’m terrified,” Marsh admitted.

Simon handed Marsh the coffee mug. “I know. I would be, too.”

Marsh stared down into the steaming brown liquid. “Shouldn’t you be offering me something a bit stronger?”

Simon grinned. “Trust me. It’s in there.”

Marsh took a sip. The coffee itself wasn’t that hot, but whatever it was that Simon had added to the brew burned all the way down to his stomach. He handed the mug back and they sat for a few moments in silence.

“Leila’s angry at you,” Marsh said. “She thinks you let slip her secret.”

“Well, that’ll get taken care of soon enough. As soon as she realizes it was you, as soon as you tell her—”

“No.” Marsh sat forward. “She can’t be told. I can’t tell her—”

“Oh, come on, Dev—”

“No, Simon, really.” Good Lord, if Leila found out that he was the one who kissed her last night, it would be an absolute disaster. “What am I supposed to do? Walk up to her and say, ‘Oh, by the way, it was I, the one man in the universe you’re most likely to argue with, the man you don’t even like, who kissed you so soundly at midnight’? Is that what I’m supposed to say?”

“I guess you’ve got a point.”

“I don’t want her to feel as if I’ve made a fool of her, or to hate me,” Marsh said quietly. “In fact, I want quite the opposite.”

“And you think by
not
telling her the truth, you have a better shot at that?”

Marsh sighed and rubbed his hands across his face. “You make it sound so bloody dishonest.”

“Just tell me what you want me to do,” Simon said.

“Don’t tell her it was me,” Marshall answered. “Please? I’ll tell her. I promise. Just not yet.”

Simon nodded. “You better not blow this. I don’t want some bozo for a brother-in-law.” He laughed. “At least not any bozo besides you.”

“That’s
Doctor
Bozo, to you.”

Simon grinned. “Happy New Year, by the way.”

“Right. It’s new, anyway.”

Leila sipped a glass of soda and watched as Simon prepared one of his stir-fried vegetables-and-tofu concoctions for dinner. He was actually a better-than-decent cook, and the tofu stuff he made always tasted very good, but Leila hated seeing it in its precooked phase—a white brick of soy protein, all pale and quivering on the cutting board.

“What time is Elliot’s flight coming in?” Simon asked as he cut the tofu into neat little bite-sized squares.

Leila glanced at her watch. “Eight o’clock. Two hours.”

Simon looked up at her. “I’m surprised you didn’t call him and beg off. You know, tell him you don’t want him to come. Politely, of course.”

Leila pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged on the kitchen chair. “Actually, I’m looking forward to seeing him.”

Simon stopped cutting and stared at her. “You are?”

“I lost it last night,” she admitted. “Number one, I kissed a total stranger, and number two, those kisses apparently meant nothing to this stranger, because he left the party without a single look back.” She took a deep breath. “He obviously doesn’t care about a few silly little kisses, and neither do I.”

Simon grinned. “Is that why you carried the portable phone down to the beach this afternoon? Because you didn’t care whether or not this mystery guy was going to call you?”

“I thought
Elliot
was going to call,” Leila said with great dignity. It figured that Simon would notice that she had carried the phone around all day.

Seeing Elliot would do her good, she tried to tell herself. He was so down to earth, so…well, unromantic. But that was okay. She knew his limitations. She wouldn’t have to worry about becoming disappointed with him twenty years down the road.

Because he was already so disappointing.

Leila looked up at her brother as he chopped broccoli into small pieces. That last thought, although it sounded quite a bit like something Simon might say, had come from some dark, disenchanted corner of her very own mind.

The honest truth was, Leila didn’t want to see Elliot. In fact, she was dreading his arrival. She’d spent the entire afternoon frustrated and restless, and the last thing she wanted right now was to listen to Elliot drone on and on about his latest business dealings.

What she wanted to do was find that man who’d kissed her. And then what? Well, she’d probably start by kissing him again.

Out in the hallway, the front door squeaked open and then shut. “Identify yourself,” Simon called cheerfully.

“It’s only me.” Marsh carried his briefcase and doctor’s bag into the kitchen, his jacket over his arm. “Are you expecting someone else?” He glanced at Leila. “You got some sun today.”

“You look awful,” she said.

Marsh was positively drooping with exhaustion and heat. His hair was damp, curling slightly at the ends. He’d taken off his tie and was unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt as he sank down into a chair on the other side of the kitchen table. “I give you a compliment, and you tell me I look awful?”

Leila made a face at him, then stood to pour him a glass of iced tea. “Since when is ‘You got some sun today’ considered a compliment?”

Marsh frowned. “Is that what I said?” he mused. “Sorry.” He took the glass from Leila, and their fingers accidentally brushed. “Thanks.” He set the glass down in front of him. “I meant to say you look lovely this evening. More so, even, than you usually do.”

He smiled, and Leila knew he was smiling at the astonishment he could see in her eyes. Since when did Marsh give her such lavish compliments?

Simon added a variety of spices and sauces to the already sizzling stir fry. “Are you here for good, or are you going back out again?”

Marsh took a long sip of his iced tea. “I’ve got one more trip over to the Kavanaughs’, to check on the new baby, but not till later tonight.” He took a deep breath and let it out quickly. “Good Lord, I can’t get by on two hours of sleep any longer. Remind me to go to bed before dawn tonight.”

“Why don’t you take a nap?” Simon suggested.

“And miss what’s-his-name’s arrival? Definitely not.”

“Elliot,” Leila said. “He has a name, and it’s Elliot.”

Marsh gazed across the table at Leila, who was drawing circles in the condensation from her glass. She glanced up and met his eyes, and to his surprise, she blushed and looked away. Blushed? Since when did Leila get embarrassed around him? Angry, yes. Annoyed, most likely. But embarrassed? That was strange.

Lord, but she did look lovely tonight. Her wild array of golden curls were cut in a short cap around her face, creating a perfect frame for her eyes. And what eyes! They were a beautiful violet shade of blue Marsh had never seen before on a living, breathing human being. And those eyes could hold the warmth of the sun, dancing and sparkling with a happiness that was truly contagious. They also had the power to freeze him with one crystal, icy look. But filled with tears, laden with sadness, Leila’s eyes could bring him to his knees.

Her smile was the same. Wide and infectious, her smile embraced everything and everyone around her, letting the entire world in on the joke. It seemed amazing to Marsh that lips so delicate and elegantly shaped could curl upward into such an unabashedly joyful smile.

Of course, he’d always imagined that kissing Leila’s lips would be rather like kissing a fairy princess—exquisitely light and delicate. And kissing her had been exquisite, but in a different sort of way. It had been deep and rich and sensual and utterly, thoroughly soul shattering.

One kiss, and all of the secrets he’d been hiding from himself for so long had been exposed. He loved her. He was in love with this wonderful, gorgeous,
maddening
woman. Yes, he was in love, and he had been for years.

Two kisses and Marsh knew the true meaning of the word euphoria. Because she loved him, too. Leila
had
to love him, too. There was no way on God’s green earth she could kiss him like that and not at least feel something for him.

But he had been wrong. She didn’t love him. She didn’t even like him. She hadn’t known whom she was kissing.

Sitting there in Simon’s kitchen, watching Leila, Marsh finally figured out what to do.

He had to court Leila. Slowly, carefully. He had to let her get to know him—
really
know him.

Marsh had to let down all of his defenses and let her truly see him. And he had to pray to God that she would like what she saw.

It was, quite possibly, going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. Of course, this was Leila, not some stranger he’d just met. In some ways, that made the whole thing easier. But in others, it made it infinitely harder.

What if Marsh opened up to Leila and she rejected him? What if he told her something personal, something private, and she used it to tease him, to ridicule him? He might never recover.

Still, he had to try to show her that the fire that sparked their frequent arguments and disagreements could be harnessed. True, their relationship tended to be volatile. They’d probably never stop quarreling entirely, they were both too sharp-tongued for that. But think how sweet making up could be. And just thinking about redirecting the heat and sparks that snapped between them—redirecting them into the bedroom—was dizzying.

Sooner or later, Marsh was going to have to reveal that he was the man who’d kissed Leila last night at midnight. Sooner rather than later, since she was only going to be on the key for the two short weeks of her vacation.

But two weeks were better than no weeks, and he was determined to use as much time as he had available to make Leila like him. And he
would
make her like him. Because she had to like him before she could fall in love with him.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that his house burning down had been some sort of signal from a higher deity. It was the end of one part of his life and the beginning of another. A new beginning. Time to rise from the ashes and make a fresh start. Take a chance.

Across the room, the phone rang. Simon’s stir-fry was sizzling and he was cooking with both hands, but he reached out and punched a button on the telephone that was attached to the wall. “Hello?” he called. “You’re on the speaker phone. Keep it clean.”

“Yes,” said a male voice. “I’m looking for Leila Hunt?”

Leila leaned forward, a frown creasing her forehead. “Elliot?”

“Yes, it’s me,” he answered.

“This signal’s awfully clear. Are you calling from the plane?” she asked.

There was a pause before he replied. “No, I’m sorry, I’m not, Leila.”

Elliot
wasn’t
on the plane? Marsh didn’t let himself smile. At least, not outwardly. Inside, he was turning cartwheels.

“I’m sorry,” Elliot’s voice continued, “but I’m not going to make it down this weekend after all.”

Leila stood up, her chair scraping across the kitchen floor. “Simon, I’m going to take this in the other room.” She started out the door, then turned back. “Make sure you hang up when I pick up the extension.”

“What, do you think we’d eavesdrop?”