Charon's Crossing

What he thought was that something he couldn't understand was going on here. Kathryn, asking for more time away from the office? It was simpler to imagine the sun asking for a day off.

"Jason? Is that a problem?"

"No," he said quickly, "no problem at all. Maybe that's what you need, you know? Some time off."

She nodded. "You might be right."

"Remember that MicroTech Conference in Miami? The one we were going to pass on? Well, I've been thinking, you can never tell. They're running some seminars that might be interesting."

Kathryn couldn't remember what conference he was talking about. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the last time she'd thought about business.

"So why don't we do this? You take your time here, get things squared away with this house and all, and then fly to Miami and meet me at the conference. We'll sit in on a couple of seminars, maybe talk a little shop, and then we'll take a long weekend in the sun before you decide if you have to come back here—or if you're ready to fly home with me. How's that sound?"

He hadn't expected her to jump up and down with joy but he hadn't expected her to look blank and then bow her head and stare down at her feet, either. He held his breath and his patience while he waited for her answer. It was a long time in coming but finally, when he'd almost given up hope, she looked up.

"It sounds great," she said.

They smiled at each other politely. Then Jason collected his pajamas and his toothbrush. Kathryn showed him into the room across the hall and they spent the night alone, in separate rooms and separate beds.

Chapter 14

Kathryn awoke early.

She dressed and opened her door quietly, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that Jason's bedroom door was still tightly shut.

Quietly, she made her way down to the kitchen. As she put up the coffee, she thought about what she'd say to him this morning.

Jason was her fiancé. He had flown all the way down to Elizabeth Island for a romantic weekend, and when he got here, she'd treated him as if he carried the plague and she was a certified crazy.

Kathryn blew out a gusty breath as she took a bowl of fruit from the refrigerator.

And it was all Matthew's fault. If he hadn't treated the whole thing like a joke, popping in and out of the woodwork right under Jason's nose, deliberately drawing her into taunting conversation with Jason standing right in the same room, she'd never have gotten so edgy. Things would have gotten off to a better start and they'd have ended better, too, with her in Jason's arms exactly as she was supposed to have been.

As she had wanted to be, and never mind all that silliness last night when Jason's kisses had made her tighten like an overwound spring.

It was nerves, that was all. Between Matthew's performance that morning and the certainty that he'd been about-to pop out of the walls last night, she'd been a wreck.

That he hadn't put in an appearance didn't change a thing. There was nothing like the anticipation of a visit from a ghostly jack-in-the-box for making you antsy.

Right now, for example, she kept expecting him to suddenly materialize in the middle of the room while she sliced oranges, bananas and casaba melon into an old, probably priceless, Waterford bowl.

Anything that would destroy her equilibrium would suit Matthew just fine.

Well, he was in for a surprise. Briskly, she

wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, then set the bowl of fruit in the center of the table. Nothing was going to upset her this morning, she thought as she backhanded a couple of flyaway curls from her forehead, not even Harry Houdini! She was going to be calm and sensible, and when Jason came down the stairs and into the kitchen, she would greet him with a smile, a kiss, and, maybe the suggestion that he forget about cutting short his visit.

"Good morning, Kathryn."

She looked up. Jason was standing in the doorway. He was wearing a dark suit, white shirt, and maroon tie and she knew at once that she wasn't going to do anything of the sort.

"Good morning," she said.

"I phoned the airport," he said briskly. "There's a mail plane taking off for Grenada in a couple of hours. The pilot said he'd be glad to give me a lift."

Kathryn nodded. "That's good," she said brightly. "That the phone's working, for a change, and that you can get a ride."

He nodded, too. "Yes, it is."