to a hotel, as she had assumed.
Chapter Six
Susan dressed for dinner with care that evening. It would
be the first meal she and Travis had shared alone since their arrival,
and she had asked Mala to set up a table on the back veranda. She was
wearing a deep-aqua silk dress with a halter top, bared back and full
skirt. A silver necklace with a turquoise drop and small turquoise
earrings complemented the dress perfectly. Her hair fell in loose waves
about her face without combs or fasteners to impede it, because Travis
liked it that way.
Travis came out of the bathroom wearing a terry robe. She
had hardly seen him when he came in from the fields and headed straight
for the shower and, at the sight of his still damp, tousled hair and
the glowing bronze of his skin, her heart seemed to turn over.
He stood still and looked at her. "Hello, wife." His eyes
devoured her as if he couldn't get enough, and she felt warmth rush
through every part of her body. "Come here," he said very softly.
"Nothing doing," she breathed. "As certain as I do, we'll be late for dinner. We're having it on the
veranda and I—I think I'd better go down and see how Mala is
coming along."
"Hard-hearted woman," he growled as she slipped past him
and out the door.
She found both Mala and Amii in the kitchen. "Is there
anything I can do to help?"
Amii, who was stirring something in a pot on the stove,
turned to look at her and giggle. "You're very pretty, Miss Susan."
"Thank you, Amii."
Mala's hands moved deftly over a cutting board. "You stay
here, you get that nice frock stained. You go out and see how you like
the table I fix for you. We makin' a fine feast."
Susan obeyed. The table sat next to the wrought-iron
railing, out of reach of the light coming through the kitchen windows.
But the full moon provided enough light to illuminate an arrangement of
pale wild orchids in the center of a white cloth. Silver glowed with a
soft patina in the moonlight. Susan sighed happily and turned as Mala
appeared with a silver tray, which she set on one of the small patio
tables.
"This special recipe," she told Susan. "Poached oyster
canapés with caviar to go with cocktails. You try."
Susan lifted one of the crisp toast rounds in the center
of which sat an oyster ringed with caviar and sour cream. She nibbled
tentatively, then finished the canapé with a groan of approval. "Mala,
these are delicious! You've outdone yourself."
"You like everything else, too." Her tone was clearly
pleased. "I tell Mistah Travis bring your drink when he come out." With
a rustle of cotton skirts, she returned to the kitchen.
Moments later, Travis appeared, dressed in dark trousers
and an open-collared shirt. He carried two stemmed glasses. "I brought
white wine for you. Is that all right?"
"Perfect," Susan told him, accepting the drink and
standing on tiptoe to kiss him lightly. "Come and try Mala's wonderful
canapés. I told her this was a special occasion, and she's really
pulling out all the stops."
"In a minute." He reached for her with his free hand and
pulled her against him. "After I have a proper kiss," which he
proceeded to claim. As always when he held her, a lovely warmth
uncurled inside her and she relaxed against him, her breasts crushed
against his chest.
When he released her, she sighed reluctantly but took his
hand and led him to two patio chairs near the canapé tray. When they
were seated, she sipped her wine and said, "I guess you know that Curt
and Violet moved to a hotel this morning."
"Yes. I told them we were on our honeymoon and suggested
it would be considerate of them to make themselves scarce."
"I had breakfast with Violet before they left. Honestly,
Travis, I don't understand that woman. Some of the things she said made
no sense at all."
She was aware of a tenseness in him. "Such as?"
"Well—for one thing, when I said that I loved
you, she seemed to think it highly improbable. I'm sure she believes I married you for your money."
He made a
Chapter Six
Susan dressed for dinner with care that evening. It would
be the first meal she and Travis had shared alone since their arrival,
and she had asked Mala to set up a table on the back veranda. She was
wearing a deep-aqua silk dress with a halter top, bared back and full
skirt. A silver necklace with a turquoise drop and small turquoise
earrings complemented the dress perfectly. Her hair fell in loose waves
about her face without combs or fasteners to impede it, because Travis
liked it that way.
Travis came out of the bathroom wearing a terry robe. She
had hardly seen him when he came in from the fields and headed straight
for the shower and, at the sight of his still damp, tousled hair and
the glowing bronze of his skin, her heart seemed to turn over.
He stood still and looked at her. "Hello, wife." His eyes
devoured her as if he couldn't get enough, and she felt warmth rush
through every part of her body. "Come here," he said very softly.
"Nothing doing," she breathed. "As certain as I do, we'll be late for dinner. We're having it on the
veranda and I—I think I'd better go down and see how Mala is
coming along."
"Hard-hearted woman," he growled as she slipped past him
and out the door.
She found both Mala and Amii in the kitchen. "Is there
anything I can do to help?"
Amii, who was stirring something in a pot on the stove,
turned to look at her and giggle. "You're very pretty, Miss Susan."
"Thank you, Amii."
Mala's hands moved deftly over a cutting board. "You stay
here, you get that nice frock stained. You go out and see how you like
the table I fix for you. We makin' a fine feast."
Susan obeyed. The table sat next to the wrought-iron
railing, out of reach of the light coming through the kitchen windows.
But the full moon provided enough light to illuminate an arrangement of
pale wild orchids in the center of a white cloth. Silver glowed with a
soft patina in the moonlight. Susan sighed happily and turned as Mala
appeared with a silver tray, which she set on one of the small patio
tables.
"This special recipe," she told Susan. "Poached oyster
canapés with caviar to go with cocktails. You try."
Susan lifted one of the crisp toast rounds in the center
of which sat an oyster ringed with caviar and sour cream. She nibbled
tentatively, then finished the canapé with a groan of approval. "Mala,
these are delicious! You've outdone yourself."
"You like everything else, too." Her tone was clearly
pleased. "I tell Mistah Travis bring your drink when he come out." With
a rustle of cotton skirts, she returned to the kitchen.
Moments later, Travis appeared, dressed in dark trousers
and an open-collared shirt. He carried two stemmed glasses. "I brought
white wine for you. Is that all right?"
"Perfect," Susan told him, accepting the drink and
standing on tiptoe to kiss him lightly. "Come and try Mala's wonderful
canapés. I told her this was a special occasion, and she's really
pulling out all the stops."
"In a minute." He reached for her with his free hand and
pulled her against him. "After I have a proper kiss," which he
proceeded to claim. As always when he held her, a lovely warmth
uncurled inside her and she relaxed against him, her breasts crushed
against his chest.
When he released her, she sighed reluctantly but took his
hand and led him to two patio chairs near the canapé tray. When they
were seated, she sipped her wine and said, "I guess you know that Curt
and Violet moved to a hotel this morning."
"Yes. I told them we were on our honeymoon and suggested
it would be considerate of them to make themselves scarce."
"I had breakfast with Violet before they left. Honestly,
Travis, I don't understand that woman. Some of the things she said made
no sense at all."
She was aware of a tenseness in him. "Such as?"
"Well—for one thing, when I said that I loved
you, she seemed to think it highly improbable. I'm sure she believes I married you for your money."
He made a
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