havegoingâ¦itâs nice to be around. Very tranquil. I donât have a lot of tranquility in my life.â
âSo tranquil you fall asleep?â
His smile flickered. âThat wasnât a reflection on the company. What I meant was that when Iâm with you the things that drive me ease. They just donât seem quite so important. Itâs almost a relief.â
âIâll add that to my list of skills.â
âThere are other skills and talents Iâd like to explore further,â he said a few moments later. The hand around hers tightened. His thumb stroked. Now that heâd given up fantasies of escape apparently heâd turned to other fantasies, other ways of disconcerting her.
The innuendo was clear. But she had no other talents. Not of the sort she thought he was referring to. But perhaps she could learn. As she looked away she became aware that the press photographers were paying at least as much attention to Logan and her as they were to the man at the podium. She smiled at him, hiding her uncertainty, and then returned her gaze to the speaker. Though she kept part of her attention on Logan, aware of his hand, aware of the potential for him to drift to sleep. And wondering whether she had the nerve to put the exhilarating idea still percolating in her head to him.
He, she was certain, was more than talented.
Twenty minutes later sheâd cut the ribbonâpreciselyâand the guests were finally permitted to stroll the new walk. The small crowd stood with an enthusiasm that owed as much to being allowed out of seats that had become progressively more uncomfortable as it did to the desire to see and smell and enjoy the blooms and the walk. And, of course, to be seen in return.
As she and Logan meandered the cobbled path, he maneuvered them so that they fell a little behind the maingroup clustered around her father and the rose breeders. They strolled up a gentle rise and paused. Not too far away a lake glittered, and several small rowboats wended their way across its surface. âIt looks so serene,â Rebecca murmured. âI watch the boats every time I come here.â
âEver been in them?â
âNo. Itâs not really the thing.â
âThe thing?â
âThe right look.â
âBut youâd like to?â
âMaybe. Iâve never rowed a boat. It looks fun.â
Mrs. Smythe-Robinson detached herself from the main group and puffed back up the path toward them. âSpeaking of fire-breathing dragons,â Logan whispered.
As she approached, the older woman pointed to a rosebush covered in apricot blooms. âThis is the one Spriggs developed. Iâm not sure itâs his best.â
âThe floribunda,â Logan said with creditable enthusiasm.
Rebecca hid her surprise. Heâd been listening?
âNo, no. Itâs a grandiflora.â
âYouâre right, of course.â He deferred politely to her.
Mrs. Smythe-Robinson smiled, set her sights on someone else and bustled away. Rebecca and Logan walked on. âWas she right?â
âNot according to what Spriggs himself said less than half an hour ago,â Logan said.
âVery diplomatic of you.â
âShe didnât look like the type of woman Iâd want to argue with. No chance of winning regardless of the rights and wrongs. And with some people even when you win you lose.â
âYou know who she is?â
âAs it happens, yes. Her husband heads the government committee on foreign investment in San Philippe.â
âAnd wonât you need that committeeâs approval?â
âI already have that committeeâs approval. But she still didnât look like the type of woman Iâd want to argue with.â
âThereâs a type?â She pulled away from him on the pretext of smelling a luscious cream bloom. In reality she needed distance so that she didnât lean in instead.
âMost
Maggie Brendan
Barbara O'Connor
Jan Washburn
Terri Blackstock
Norah Simone
Barry Kemp
G.P. Taylor
Alan Cumyn
Linda Barnes
Lisa Jackson