Bougainvillea by Heather Graham Page A

his own. Find some sweet nostalgia, and maybe even ease his heart.” He paused for a moment, and in that time, he suddenly looked very old. “Feel free to come here, whenever you like. Actually, the house is yours, the run of it, anytime. I wish that your husband liked the main house, but he doesn’t. Your luggage has already been taken to his place. It’s the cottage closest to the water on the dock side of the lagoon.” He looked at her, studying her again. “I hope, however, that to humor an old man, you’ll spend a lot of time here, with me. There’s a lot of family history here.”
    â€œOf course,” Kit told him. She hesitated then, and walked into the room, fascinated. This was where they had lived together, her parents. She had a vague memory of running into the room, bouncing onto the foot of the bed, and throwing herself into their arms. For a moment, she remembered her mother clearly. Laughing, scooping Kit up close to her, and hugging her tightly. She felt a sweet elation, certain that, whatever her mother’s faults might have been, Marina Delaney had loved her daughter.
    Kit tentatively walked to the open doors overlookingthe porch, and the party. Lenore had invited at least a hundred people. They milled everywhere.
    The view from here was excellent. She could see the lagoon, the dock, the wooden jetty. The pool was off to the left side of the house. The bungalows and cottages dotted the banks of the lagoon. She saw Shelley with a group of young people, eschewing a fancy glass and drinking her beer from the bottle. Eli and Martin Callahan were deep in discussion with Josh.
    And David…
    She searched the crowd and saw him deep in conversation with Kaitlin. The beautiful blond had her hand on his shoulder in a proprietary manner that brought a little shudder to Kit’s heart. What was Kaitlin now? About forty? And David was thirty-seven.
    Impulsive…
    Marina had been impulsive.
    And she was like her mother. Strange, the way that she had fallen head over heels for David, never questioning his past.
    She was suddenly certain that at one time, in some way, David had been involved with Kaitlin.
    She was still staring out at the scene below when Lenore found them.
    â€œWhat on earth are you two doing up here? Seamus, I want Kit to meet Lara Kinney, who sponsors the theater. She’s very important, dear.”
    Seamus nodded, offering Kit a secret smile and widening his eyes slightly with amusement. “You must go meet the very rich and famous,” he told her. He winked. “They buy newspapers and sometimes, I believe, even read comic strips.”
    â€œSeamus, you’re acting as if we’re snobby and catty, and we’re not, not at all. We like to contribute to the community, and you’re the one who taught me that, father-in-law dear!” Lenore said. Her voice was light, filled with affection. Kit thought it sounded false.
    But she smiled to herself and accompanied Lenore downstairs, and smiled her way pleasantly through all the introductions. She had just met the head of the opera guild and listened to a long bemoaning of the lack of real supporters for the ultimate art when David slipped his arm around her. “Jean! Great to see you, I’m so glad that you could come. I see that you’ve met Kit. Will you excuse us? Seamus wants Kit to meet a racing friend.”
    Kit murmured something appropriate; Jean of the opera sadly watched them move on.
    â€œWho am I meeting?” Kit asked.
    â€œNo one—we’re escaping,” he told her with a grin.
    He moved faster and faster, leading her through the crowd, and then down a path that led to some dense foliage.
    By then, it was growing dark. Kit laughed. “Where are we going?”
    â€œBack way—to our own home!” he told her.
    A few minutes later, they were bursting through pines and crotons to a tiled and pillared porch, then through glass doors to a