Fairy Tale Weddings

  He ignored her silent pleas and jumped into the pool. At first he did a series of laps. Somewhat relieved, Judy continued her exercise. When he suddenly appeared beside her, it was a surprise.

  “Remember the last time we were in the water together?” he asked, his voice husky and low.

  In an effort to get away from him, Judy swam to the deep end and treaded water. She remembered that afternoon on the beach all too well; he’d held her in his arms while the rolling surf plunged them underwater. He’d kissed her and held her body close to his as the powerful surf tossed them about.

  Now his presence trapped her. She refused to meet his look.

  “You remember, don’t you?” he demanded.

  “Yes,” she cried, and swallowed hard.

  His face tightened and he lowered his voice, each syllable more seductive than the last. “So do I, Judy. I remember the way you slid your arms around my neck and buried your face in my chest.”

  She shook her head in denial.

  “You trembled when I kissed you and you clung to me as though I were your life. I remember everything.”

  Judy closed her eyes. “Don’t,” she whispered. She desperately wanted him to leave her.

  “I’m not going.” He saw that her eyes were overly bright and that she was struggling to hold back the tears. “I miss you. I want things to go back to the way they were.”

  Her chin rose. “They can’t,” she said, her mouth trembling. “They’ll never be the same.”

  As much as he tried, McFarland couldn’t understand what had changed. Why had she all of a sudden asked to return to New York? He’d tried—heaven knew he’d tried—to understand, but she’d made it impossible. In a week, she’d hardly spoken to him. He’d attempted to draw her out, to discover what was troubling her. All she did was look at him with her large, soulful eyes as though she might burst into tears at any moment. After a week, he was losing his patience.

  “Why can’t they be the same?” he asked.

  “I’m your prisoner.”

  “No, you aren’t,” he shouted.

  “You brought me here as an amusement.”

  “In the beginning, perhaps, but that’s all different now.”

  “But it isn’t,” she said flatly. “Nothing is. I’m your prisoner,” she repeated.

  “But you were happy.”

  She flinched at the truth. “Yes, for a time I was.”

  “What changed?”

  “The walls,” she said in a tormented voice. “I could see the walls of my cell closing in around me.”

  McFarland had no idea what she was talking about. Walls? Cell? She had more freedom now than she realized. She ruled his heart; he was hers to do with as she wished.

  “Judy,” he said, trapping her against the bright blue tile of the pool. His face was only inches from hers. “You’re talking nonsense.”

  “To you, maybe. You don’t understand.”

  “I understand this,” he said, weaving his fingers into her wet hair. He kissed her then, pressing his body against her own as he hungrily claimed her mouth.

  Judy pulled away, and he didn’t stop her. But he said, “It was good with us. You can’t have forgotten how good.”

  “Yes, I remember,” she wept. Instinctively, her body arched toward him and she slipped her arms tightly around his neck. She was trembling when he kissed her once more and when she arched against him, he nearly lost his grip on the pool’s edge.

  “I can’t let you go,” he whispered. He kissed her gently, slowly, again and again until she was weak and clinging in his arms. His body burned with need for her. Raising his head, he looked into her eyes. “I’ll give you anything.”

  Tears scorched a trail down her face. “I only want one thing.”

  Knowing what she was about to say, McFarland closed his eyes to the pain.

  “I want my freedom,” she sobbed. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably as she climbed out of the pool. “I want to go home.”

  Guilt tore at him. He could deal with anything but her pain. Judy was using his conscience against him and in that moment, McFarland thought he hated her.

  Then, seeing her tear-streaked face as she reached for the towel, McFarland realized something more—he hated himself twice as much.

  Her tears didn’t diminish, even when Judy returned to her room. She was shocked by the power John had to bend her will to his. How easily he’d manipulated her. She had to admit that his kisses were even more potent than her desire to go home to her family. Within minutes she’d been willing to give him anything he wanted.

  When McFarland returned to his office, his mood was dark. He was short-tempered with anyone who had the misfortune of being within earshot. It was as though he wanted to punish the world for trying to take away the only woman he’d ever cared about.

  “Mr. McFarland,” Avery said, late that same afternoon. He stood in the doorway, not daring to approach his employer’s desk.

  “What is it?” McFarland barked. “I haven’t got all day.”

  “It’s Ms. Lovin, sir.”

  The pencil McFarland was holding snapped in half. “She’s staying, Avery, and there’s not a damn thing you can say that’ll change my mind.”

  “But her family…”

  “What about them?”

  “They’ve personally appealed for your mercy. It seems the Lovin boy is getting married and requests his sister’s presence at the wedding.”

  “They appealed for mercy! I hope you told them I have none.” McFarland shuffled through some papers, paying unnecessary attention to them.

  “The family’s requesting some indication of when you plan to release Ms. Lovin. The wedding can be delayed at…at your convenience.”

  “Mine.” He snickered loudly. “I hope you told them I don’t plan to release her.” He couldn’t explain to Avery that he was afraid to release her. Afraid to lose her. Afraid she wouldn’t come back.

  “You won’t let her off the island even to attend her brother’s wedding?”

  “No.”

  “But, sir…”

  “That will be all, Avery.”

  McFarland’s assistant took a deep breath, as though gathering his courage before speaking.

  “Listen, Avery,” McFarland said, unwilling to listen to anyone’s opinion regarding Judy. His mind was made up. “Feel free to submit your resignation again. Only next time I may not be so willing to give it back.”

  That evening, McFarland sat alone in the library. During the years he’d been on the island, he’d spent countless nights in this room. Now it felt as cold and unwelcoming as an unmarked grave. When he couldn’t tolerate it any longer, he rose and stepped outside, heading toward the stables. A beer with Sam would relax him. He was halfway there when he saw Judy, silhouetted in the moonlight, sitting on the patio by the pool. Her head was slightly bowed, the soft folds of her summer dress pleated around her. The pale light of the moon shone like a halo around her.

  The scene affected him more than all her pleas. He remembered standing on the ridge, watching her play with the island children on the beach below. He recalled how her eyes would light up just before his mouth met hers; he recalled how she clung to him. With vivid clarity, he remembered the fall from the horse and how he would’ve given everything he owned not to see her hurt, not to lose her. Now, he was losing her anyway.

  His presence must have disturbed her, because she turned and her eyes found his. McFarland’s stomach knotted at the doubt and uncertainty he saw in her gaze. He yearned with everything in him to ease her pain, but if he did he would only increase his own. He needed her. The beast who’d once claimed he needed no one was dependent upon a woman. This woman.

  The sudden thunder and lightning barely registered in McFarland’s mind. The drenching rain soaked him in minutes, and still he didn’t move.

  Judy came to him, her gaze concerned.

  “Go inside,” he rasped.

  Her face was bloodless. “Not without you.”
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  He nearly laughed. It shouldn’t matter to her what became of him; she was the one who wanted to walk out of his life.

  “John.” She urged him again a moment later.

  “I find your solicitude unconvincing.”

  The flatness of his voice sent a chill through her veins. Judy hesitated.

  He saw that she was as drenched as he was. “Go inside,” he murmured. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “If you stay out here, you’ll catch a chill.”

  Raw emotion fueled his anger and he shouted loudly enough to be heard over the furious clap of thunder. “Leave me!”

  Her eyes welled with tears.

  McFarland couldn’t bear to see her cry. He stepped close and cupped her face. His heart ached with all the emotion he felt for her. He could make her stay, force her to live on the island and ignore her desire to leave. In time she’d forget her family, he told himself, accept her position on St. Steven’s and in his life. He would give her everything a woman would possibly want; everything he owned would be hers.

  In that moment, McFarland knew that everything he possessed, all his wealth, all that he was, would never be enough for Judy. He dropped his hands and turned toward the house.

  When they reached the front door, John opened it for her. Judy paused and looked up at him. Her own distress hardly compared to the misery she witnessed in his eyes.

  “John,” she whispered brokenly. Even now his unhappiness greatly affected her. Even now she loved him. “I—”

  His face tightened as a dark mask descended over his features, a mask she recognized. He’d worn it often in the first weeks after her arrival. She’d forgotten how cold and cruel he could look, how ruthless he could be.

  “Don’t say it,” he interrupted harshly. “Don’t say a single thing. Not a word.” He turned and abruptly left her standing alone.

  Princess was saddled and ready for Judy early the next morning. She hadn’t slept well and looked forward to the rigorous exercise.

  “Morning, Sam,” she said, without much enthusiasm.

  The groom ignored her, holding a gelding’s hoof in his lap and running a file across the underside.

  “Sam?”

  “Morning,” he grunted, not looking at her.

  “Is something wrong?” Sam had been her ally and friend from the beginning.

  “Wrong?” he repeated. “What could be wrong?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “For nearly two weeks now, this place has been like a battlefield.”

  Judy opened her mouth to deny it.

  “But does ol’ Sam question it? No.” He lifted his head to glare at her. “I figured whatever was wrong would right itself in time. Looks like I was wrong.”

  “I wish it was that simple,” Judy murmured, stroking Princess’s neck.

  Sam continued to file the gelding’s hoof. “McFarland bites my head off and you walk around looking like you spent half the night crying your eyes out. You get any paler, and someone could mistake you for a ghost!”

  Judy raised her hands to her cheeks, embarrassed.

  Sam lowered the horse’s leg to the ground and slowly straightened. “McFarland been shouting at you again?”

  “No.”

  “Has he been unfair?”

  “That’s not what this is about.”

  “Did he get after you for something you didn’t do?”

  “No.”

  Hands on his hips, Sam took a step toward her. “Do you love him or not?”

  Judy felt the blood rush through her veins.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “Yes,” she answered, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

  “I thought so.”

  She pushed back her hair. “Loving someone doesn’t fix everything.”

  “Then do whatever you have to do to make it right.”

  Judy swallowed down the hard lump that had formed in her throat. Sam made everything sound so…uncomplicated.

  “For heaven’s sake, woman, put an end to this infernal bickering. And do it soon, while there’s still a man or woman who’s willing to work for John McFarland.”

  Judy rode for hours. When she returned, a maid announced that McFarland wished to see her at her earliest convenience. With her heart pounding, Judy rushed upstairs for a quick shower.

  By the time she appeared in John’s office Avery seemed greatly relieved to see her.

  “You’re to go right in,” he instructed.

  “Thank you, Avery,” she said as he opened the door.

  John was writing, his head bent, and although she was fairly sure he knew she was there, he chose to ignore her.

  After the longest minute of her life, he looked up at her and gestured for her to take a seat. His expression was cool and distant.

  Judy shivered as she sat down. “I’ve been in communication with New York this morning,” he said evenly.

  She nodded, not knowing what he was leading up to. He could be referring to her family, but he hadn’t said as much.

  “The launch will leave the island at five tomorrow morning. However, the helicopter is at your disposal.”

  Judy blinked. “Are you saying I’m free to go?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  It took a moment for the full realization to hit her. She sighed as the burden was lifted from her shoulders. “John—”

  He interrupted her. “From what I understand, you’ll be home in plenty of time for your brother’s wedding.”

  Her smile was tremulous. “Thank you.”

  He nodded abruptly. “Is tomorrow soon enough, or would you prefer to leave now?”

  “Tomorrow is fine.”

  He returned to his paperwork.

  “John…”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do,” he said pointedly.

  Judy stood, clasping her fingers tightly in front of her. “I’ll never forget you, John McFarland, or this island.”

  He continued with his work as though she hadn’t spoken.

  “If I don’t see you again…”

  John glanced at his watch and while she was speaking, reached for his phone.

  Judy blinked back stinging tears of anger and embarrassment.

  “Goodbye, John,” she said softly, and with great dignity, turned and left his office.

  That evening Judy ate alone. The dining-room table had never seemed so big or the room so empty. She’d spent the afternoon preparing for her departure. Her suitcase was packed, her room bare of the things that had marked it as hers. She’d visited the children one last time and stopped at the stables to feed Princess and Midnight. Sam had grumbled disapprovingly when he heard she was leaving and when she hugged him goodbye, the gruff old man’s eyes glistened.

  After all the excitement, Judy had expected to sleep that evening. To her surprise, she couldn’t.

  At midnight, she made her way down the stairs for a glass of milk. She noticed light from under the library door and cracked it open to investigate. She found John sitting at the oak desk, a half-full whiskey bottle in one hand and a shot glass in the other.

  He raised his head to study her when she entered the room, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

  The words were slurred. Judy shook her head, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. In all the weeks that she’d been on the island, John had never abused alcohol. “You’re drunk.”

  He lifted the bottle in mocking salute. “You’re darn right I am.”

  “Oh, John.” She nervously tucked her hair behind her ears, feeling wretched.

  “You think too highly of yourself if you assume I did this because you’re leaving.”

  “I…”

  He refilled his glass, the whiskey sloshing over the sides. He downed the contents in one swallow and glared at her. “You were a nuisance.”

  Judy didn’t respond.

  “I should’ve got rid of you weeks ago.”

  Ten excellent rea
sons to walk away presented themselves. Judy ignored each one. For some perverse reason she wanted to hear what he had to say.

  “You’re such a goody-goody.”

  She clasped her fingers more tightly together.

  “I could’ve had you several times. You know that, don’t you? You were willing enough.” His eyes challenged her to defy him. “But I didn’t take what you so generously offered.” His short laugh was without humor. He leaned forward and glared at her. “You know why? I like my women hot and spicy. You’re sweet, but you’d soon grow tasteless.”

  Judy’s face burned with humiliation; each word was like a lash across her back.

  His eyes were cold. “Why are you still standing there?”

  Unable to answer him, Judy shook her head.

  “Get out!” he roared. “Out of my house! Out of my life!”

  Part of Judy yearned to wrap her arms around him and absorb his anger and his pain. But she didn’t move, didn’t take a step forward.

  “Go on,” he shouted. “Get out of here before I do something we’ll both regret.”

  “Goodbye, John,” she whispered. She closed the massive doors when she left and flinched at the unexpected sound of breaking glass.

  “Goodbye, Beauty.”

  The words were so faint that Judy wasn’t sure she’d heard them.

  Judy sat in her room, waiting for the sun to rise. She hadn’t slept after the confrontation in the library; she hadn’t even tried.

  At four, the maid came to wake her and was surprised to find her already up. “Mr. Anderson will escort you to the dock,” the girl informed her.

  “Thank you.”

  Avery was waiting for Judy at the bottom of the stairs. He took the suitcase from her hand and gave her a sympathetic smile. Judy paused and glanced in the direction of the library.

  “Take care of him for me, will you?” she asked.

  Avery cleared his throat and looked doubtful. “I’ll do my best.”

  The launch was at the dock. Judy hugged John’s assistant and Sam, who arrived at the last minute, looking flustered and upset.

  Only when the boat had sped away did Judy turn back to the island. In the distance she saw a third figure standing separate from the others.