"Elle used that word, too," Jonas said, "but mudslides aren't malevolent. Don't turn this into one of those weird things that seem to happen when you're all together. I don't want things coming out of the fog or shadows reaching for people behind their backs. Let's keep this simple."
"I was alarmed, but I couldn't tell by what," Libby agreed.
Jonas crossed the room to crouch down in front of her. "You're covered in dirt. Something did happen, didn't it?" The teasing note disappeared from his voice.
"No big deal. Elle is so connected to all of us that she can't help but worry. It was a minor accident. Remember the conversation about erosion on nearly all the cliff faces after that heavy rain? I was sitting near the cliff wall and there was a slide. A couple of big boulders must have dislodged and started it. The rocks smashed the chairs, but I'm fine, a little dirty, but no scratches."
"But she has a new strawberry birthmark on her neck," Hannah contributed helpfully.
Libby glared at her. "Treacherous woman! And I'm helping you talk without stammering, too. What's gotten into you?"
"Why would Hannah be stammering?" Jonas asked.
"Focus on the important things, mighty sheriff man," Hannah urged. "Strawberries. Necks. Rolling in the dirt. What kind of a detective are you?"
Jonas reached over and pulled Libby's palm from her neck. He studied the mark for a long moment, finally whistling. "I'm impressed. Who managed to leave his brand on you?"
"Brand?" Libby croaked, outraged. "It isn't a brand. It's a teeny mark, a scrape, probably from a rock."
Jonas exchanged a long look with Hannah and they both burst out laughing. "Good try, Libby," he said. "Give me a name."
"Don't you have work to do, Jonas?" Libby asked. "I'm busy."
"You don't look busy to me," Jonas pointed out.
"Oh, she is. She has to get ready for a date tonight," Hannah pointed out. "With Tyson Derrick."
Jonas whistled again. "Tyson Derrick, the multimillionaire? You're moving up in the world, Libby. He's a hell of a lot better than the toupee guy. That man had ice water in his veins. Ty goes for excitement."
"He's a biochemist," Libby said. "Not a millionaire. And he's matured over the years. I'm sure he's stopped all the crazy things he liked to do."
"Well, he climbed a mountain in the Himalayas last year. And he's gone rafting down the Colorado numerous times. He rock climbs and goes parasailing off cliffs. He fights forest fires and participates in helicopter rescues, but you're probably right. Other than driving race cars and getting speeding tickets on his motorcycle . . ."
"Don't tell me anything else." Libby covered her face again. "I can't take it. Why did I say I'd go out with him? I'm not even sure I did. I think he tricked me."
"How could he trick you?" Jonas asked. "You're pretty sharp, Libby."
"Most of the time," Libby conceded. "But I don't remember anything that happened at the hospital and he claims we had a conversation and he asked me out. I don't believe him. Dr. Shayner said he was severely brain damaged at the time which would preclude any conversation. I'm sure he made it up."
"You're sure?" Jonas teased.
"I'm almost certain." Libby sighed. "I'm confused. I don't even like him. For a man with a brilliant mind, which, by the way, I'm positive I wouldn't have said to him, he says the stupidest things."
"You may have told him he's brilliant?" Jonas asked.
"He's a good kisser," Hannah said helpfully.
Jonas glared at her. "You'd better not have firsthand knowledge on how that man kisses, baby doll. Having two of you getting silly over him is too much."
Hannah slammed her teacup into the saucer. "I'll kiss anyone I feel like kissing, Harrington. You're so bossy you think you can tell anyone what to do."
"You're forgetting I have a gun," he said complacently.
"I do believe you're threatening to shoot me," Hannah insisted, sparks beginning to form in the depths of her eyes.
"Not you. What the hell would I do without you to entertain me? I'd shoot him. Get it straight. Avoid locking lips with anyone if you know what's good for them." He stood up. "I'm going to check the cliff to make certain it's safe. I might have to rope part of it off and get some signs up."
"Thanks, Jonas," Libby said. "I didn't look at it. Ty was with me and I was distracted by his scintillating conversation."
"You mean his kisses." Hannah corrected her.
Jonas narrowed his gaze. "You seem obsessed with his kisses, Hannah."
She shrugged. "It's been a while. I'm looking for a little action."
His eyebrow shot up. "Oh, really?" Jonas leaned down, his hand twisting in her hair, holding her head perfectly still as his mouth took possession of hers.
Libby gasped in shock. The kiss seemed to go on and on forever. And there was definitely tongue. Hannah not only wasn't struggling, she seemed to be kissing him back.
Jonas pulled away just as abruptly, shoving his hat on his head and turning toward the living room. "That should hold you for a while. Next time you're feeling a little hard up, give me a call." He strode out of the room.
Hannah appeared dazed for a moment, her expression shocked, her eyes glazed and her lips slightly swollen. She opened her mouth twice before she succeeded in getting anything to emerge.
"Eww." Hannah looked outraged. "He's gone crazy, Libby. Did you see that? I should have kicked him. Or kneed him. Or at the very least turned him into a toad. He kissed me. I've been totally violated." She glared at the empty doorway.
"You kissed him back, Hannah."
"I most certainly did not," she denied vehemently.
Jonas whistled as he walked out of the house, slamming the living room door as he left.
"Why didn't you kick him?" Libby asked. There was definite kissing on Hannah's part, but Libby thought it best not to pursue it.
"I couldn't think." Hannah defended herself. "He took me by surprise. He's never done anything like that before. Ugg. I can still feel him." She touched her lips with her fingertips, almost a caress, rather than rubbing the kiss off. "He's such a rat. I'm going to have nightmares. And I'm going to retaliate."
"You're going to waylay him and kiss him?" Libby asked helpfully.
"That's not funny. I'm going to find a spell that will turn his lips numb."
Libby burst out laughing. "You might want to be careful. Jonas would know and his retaliation might be much worse."
"It's always bugged me that the house lets him in, like he's family or something."
"He is family, you dope," Libby said affectionately. "Jonas is the only brother we have."
Hannah made a face. "Not to me. I'm working on finding a way to make all the doors slam in his face when he tries to get in. I tried the gate, but the lock just falls off if he approaches and I can't do anything about that."
"You spend entirely too much time thinking of ways to annoy Jonas."
"Well, that's because he annoys me. He called me scrawny the other day. And he said I'd lost weight again and if I lost any more he was going to put my skeleton to rest."
"When did he say that?" Libby heard the hurt in her sister's voice.
"Oh, he came by yesterday to check on you. You were asleep so he bugged me. I have to stay thin or I lose my job."
Libby studied Hannah for a moment. She was so beautiful it was easy to just dismiss everything else beyond the surface, but Jonas was right, she was thinner. A lot thinner. "You are losing weight, Hannah," she said as gently as possible. "You need to eat more."
"I can't. I have a big show coming up in New York and I was told to make certain I didn't have an ounce of weight on me. Greg Simpson implied I was gaining." Hannah looked down at her hands. "I had the phone on speaker and Jonas came in and went berserk when he heard Greg tell me to keep the weight off. Jonas said it was stupid to be so vain and I was killing myself in order to be famous and it was only my need for constant adoration." Hannah paused, pushing back her hair in an unconscious, sexy gesture. "Jonas even s
aid he could put his hand around my thigh. He was horrible and my agent heard every word."
"Hannah. You didn't say anything to any of us. Jonas can be such an ass, but I'm sure he was thinking he was protecting you. You're beautiful and you're already very thin. I can't imagine that you've been gaining weight."
"No, but I'm getting older. You can't be on top forever."
Libby held her hand out to her sister. "You aren't old and you know it."
"This business is a young woman's game. Few careers last past late twenties and early thirties, not on the runway."
"You've banked nearly every cent you've earned. How long do you want to keep going at it?"
"What else do I have, Libby? I can't talk to people, you know that. Without you and the others to help me, I stammer and have panic attacks. I have no other skills."
"You speak several languages, Hannah."
Hannah laughed. "Libby, it doesn't do much good if I can't actually utter a word around people. Once my career is over, I'm done. I don't know who I am or what I'd do."
"I had no idea you felt that way." Libby leaned closer. "Hannah, you are eating, aren't you?"
Hannah hesitated briefly then shrugged. "I don't know how to eat anymore. I haven't eaten for the last seven years."
Libby was silent trying to remember just what Hannah did do at mealtimes. She was often in the kitchen. She cooked. She baked. She made tea. Did she actually eat? Libby couldn't remember one way or the other. Hannah did look too thin. Beautiful, but far too thin. Jonas probably could put his fingers around her thigh--and that was way too thin. Why hadn't Libby noticed? She was a doctor. "I'm sorry, baby, I should have seen you were in trouble. I'm so caught up in helping total strangers, I didn't see what was right in front of my nose."
"I'm not in trouble," Hannah denied. "Other than despising Jonas Harrington."
"If you aren't able to eat, you're in trouble, Hannah, and you know it," Libby said. "We have to get you some help."
"Not until after New York. It's a very important show. I'll concentrate on gaining a little weight after that." Hannah dismissed the subject with a wave. Her tone had a small warning note in it as she forced a smirk. "Meanwhile, I'm concentrating on working out a spell to keep Jonas out of the house and off the property. Which reminds me, your Tyson must have gone through the gate to get to the beach access."
Libby let out her breath. Hannah wasn't going to discuss her eating habits or her job anymore and was finding a way to change the subject. Libby didn't want to let it go, but she couldn't risk upsetting her sister. She needed to talk to Sarah and find the best way to handle the situation. It was highly probable that Hannah had an eating disorder. "He isn't my Tyson and the gate wasn't locked. I left it open in case Inez stopped by to see me. She said she might come for a short visit if she could get away from the grocery store." She glanced at her watch. "I'd better take a shower before Ty gets here."
"Are you wearing red panties tonight?" Hannah asked mischievously.
Libby wadded up a napkin and threw it at her sister. "Hannah, you and the rest of my sisters better not have been messing around with my underwear. Abigail's in enough trouble after that red panty ceremony . . ."
"Which you took part in," Hannah pointed out.
"For Abbey, not for me. I don't want to find a man. And wipe that smile off your face. If I fall, you're next."
"It's never going to happen. I can't talk to a man without all of you bolstering me. All I do is stammer or have an anxiety attack, so the possibility of me finding a man is just about nil." Hannah sounded very satisfied. "So I can cast spells, make up love potions and participate in the red panty ceremony with the rest of you to my heart's content."
"You're in so much trouble, Hannah," Libby said.
Hannah's laughter followed her up the stairs. Libby stood in front of the mirror and stared at herself. Her face was completely streaked with dirt and there was dirt in her hair. Her nose was bright red and because she'd been wearing sunglasses, she had a white raccoon mask around her eyes, just as she'd predicted.
She groaned and made a face. "Hannah! Get up here! I can't go out looking like this. Why didn't you tell me I looked awful?"
Hannah hurried into Libby's bedroom. "Just don't get under the lights and you'll be fine. We'll use a little makeup and no one will know."
"I'll know. I'm nervous enough around him without looking like a clown," Libby wailed.
"I hate to point this out," Hannah said, "but he's already seen you looking like this and he kissed you anyway. That's a pretty good sign he likes you. And he asked you out to dinner. How's your head? Mom and Dad aren't going to be too happy with you running around. It took all six of us girls plus Mom and Aunt Carol to save your life, Libby. If you're at all not feeling well, you shouldn't go."
Libby began to toss her clothes aside. "I still have a bit of a headache and I'm a little weak, but nothing serious. Believe me, Hannah, I'm well aware of how stupid I was risking everyone. Elle and you bore the brunt of it." Impulsively she hugged her sister. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
"Well, I happen to feel the same," Hannah said. "Why are you throwing all your clothes around?"
"I hate them all. Nothing I own makes me look"-- Libby searched for the right description--"well, like you. I need perky breasts. Although at this point, any breasts will do, perky or otherwise."
Hannah shook her head. "You've got it bad. I've never heard you talk about your looks. I don't think you've ever even thought about how you look."
"You'll have to meet him at the door and tell him I can't go out with him. I'm serious, Hannah. I just can't do this." Libby sank down onto the bed in the middle of clothes strewn everywhere.
Hannah sat next to her. "You really like him, Libby. He wouldn't have asked you out if he didn't want to go out with you. You're beautiful and smart and funny and he obviously thinks so."
"He calls our magic 'crap.' He's abrasive and he rides a motorcycle and he's a multimillionaire. I don't want to go out with a multimillionaire. Do you remember his parents at all? Because I don't."
Hannah shook her head. "Only that they used to travel all the time and I don't think they wanted to be with him much because they were always shoving him off on his aunt. He lived with her on and off over the years. Sam told me Tyson's parents didn't understand him and were embarrassed because he was such a geek. They were jet-setters and very trendy. He wanted to stare into a microscope and talk about things-- such as hot viruses--that they didn't want to think about. They died a couple of years ago and left him a fortune. I don't think he's done anything with it, but rumor has it Sam was living very well, so Tyson must have shared."
"How strange that I didn't know that," Libby said. "I know all about his education and the work he does, but I never really thought much about why he lived with Ida Chapman. It was obvious she loved him, so it seemed natural to me." She shook her head. "I just can't go out with him."
"Libby, go take a shower. You deserve to have some fun."
Libby made a face. "I'm not certain going out with him actually would be fun."
"You're stalling. I'll find you something to wear. It's just dinner, right?"
"He'd better not come to get me on his motorcycle."
"Libby!" Hannah gave her a little push. "He'll be here soon and then you'll really panic. What do I do if he comes while you're in the shower?"
"Well, don't send him up here for heaven's sake. Occupy him."
"With kisses?" Hannah teased.
"Jonas will shoot him. You'd better not do that." Libby pressed a hand to her stomach at the thought of Tyson with Hannah. "Why do you have to be so beautiful?"
Hannah stiffened. "I'm not really, you know," she said. "You don't see men knocking down the door to take me out."
Libby turned quickly enough to see the hurt on Hannah's face. "Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad."
Hannah flashed a small smile, but it didn't light her eyes. "I'm just f
eeling sensitive. Greg asked me if it was possible to get a breast reduction. I'm down to a size two but apparently someone complained that my breasts are too big."
"Hannah, you're five foot eleven. You're intelligent enough to know that Greg is an idiot if he wants you any smaller. You're lucky you have breasts without any weight on you."
"I know. Like I said, I'm feeling a little sensitive. It isn't a big deal."
"It is to me, if you're feeling bad about yourself."
"I'd better go man the door just in case your date arrives," Hannah said.
Libby turned on the water as hot as she could stand it and stood under the pulsing shower contemplating what she should do about her younger sister. Hannah always seemed happy. She was loving and giving and generous with her time to her sisters. She didn't make friends easily and kept to herself, seemingly content in between her modeling assignments to stay at their home in Sea Haven. Hannah was the last person Libby would have thought might be unhappy. Why hadn't she noticed? Was she so wrapped up in her own life that she hadn't noticed her sister losing weight? Looking sad? She should have felt her unhappiness. Jonas Harrington had seen Hannah was in trouble before Libby had.
She shampooed her hair while she considered how best to help Hannah. Did she pretend to be happy because she already felt a bother to her sisters? They lent their support to her on a regular basis, so much so that it was automatic. None of them thought anything about it, but maybe Hannah did. Was she upset because she felt she needed her sisters to go out into the public and do her job? That was likely, now that Libby thought about her personality. They had all hoped she'd grow out of her anxiety in public, but it had worsened, rather than getting better.
Libby wrapped a bath sheet around her and covered her hair with a towel, turban style, as she stepped out of the shower. She nearly ran straight into Jonas and let out a little shriek when he grabbed her shoulders to steady her. "What are you doing? You're getting weirder every day, Jonas. This is the bathroom."
"How the hell was I supposed to know what room it was? I don't exactly come up here that often. I have some questions."
"How did you get past Hannah?"
"She's busy making up some spell against me," Jonas said. "She looks kind of cute all serious like that, muttering to herself."
"Her spells really work, Jonas," Libby cautioned.