Summer Secrets - Barbara Freethy [22]
"We'll have more privacy here." Tyler walked into the living room and glanced around.
She knew what he saw -- a comfortable, warm room, with pastel colors, puffy white couches, throw rugs that warmed up the hardwood floor, and small lamps on every table. This was her haven, her home, and she'd make no apologies for the decor. Her years on a sailboat had left her with a distinct longing for a place of her own that didn't rock with the waves or blow in the wind, a house she could make a home, with a garden and trees, with roots that went deep into the ground.
"Landscapes," Tyler mused, surprising her with his words.
Kate followed his glance to the pictures of hillsides and meadows, flowers and trees on the walls. "You don't like landscapes?"
"They're okay. But where's the sea, the lighthouses, the boats?"
"Just a few miles down the road."
"No reason to put them on the wall?"
"None whatsoever." She met his gaze head-on. "Do you find that surprising?"
Tyler nodded. "Among other things. Are you going to talk to me, Kate?"
"I might." She still didn't know what to do about him. She'd dreamed about him last night, the first time in a long time a man's face that wasn't Jeremy's had appeared in her dreams. But she didn't want this man in her dreams, or in her house for that matter.
Tyler walked over to the mantle and studied the portrait hanging over the fireplace. It was Kate's favorite picture of the McKenna women, her mother and her sisters and herself. They'd had the portrait painted for her father's birthday when Kate was fourteen years old, Ashley twelve and Caroline ten. She could still see her father unwrapping the portrait, the love, joy, and pride lighting up his eyes when he saw it. He'd jumped to his feet, grabbed her mother in a huge bear hug, and swung her around until she was dizzy. Next he'd picked up Kate and spun her, then done the same with each of her sisters. There had been so much laughter that day, so much love.
"Your mother?" Tyler asked, drawing her attention back to him.
"Yes."
"You look like her."
"I've always thought Ashley looked the most like her."
"I haven't met Ashley yet."
And it was going to stay that way, if Kate had her wish.
"What happened to your mother?" Tyler asked.
"She died of cancer when I was seventeen years old."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
"Was she a sailor?"
"Yes, but she didn't like sailing far from home. A spin around the islands was enough for her. She was an artist, a dreamer. She used to design sails, not for money, just for friends. She was more of an armchair adventurer than anything else." Kate let out a small sigh, feeling a wave of longing and nostalgia that never seemed to go away completely. It had been years since her mother's death, but she still missed her. "I wish she could have seen my bookstore. I think she would have liked it." She stopped abruptly, remembering whom she was talking to.
"Don't stop now. You're on a roll." Tyler sent her a curious look. "We don't have to be adversaries. I'm not sure why, but I get the feeling that you don't want me here. In fact, I believe you'd like to send me away as quickly as possible. I just don't know why."
"What are you really after?" she asked, deciding it was time to turn the tables. "You don't write stories about ocean racers, not even world-class ones. You write about wars and international economies. You've had bylines in every national magazine. And I think somewhere along the way you've won a journalistic award or two."
His eyes narrowed with a glint of admiration. "You did some checking."
"Is that a problem? Do you have something to hide?"
"Not at all. I'm just not used to being on the other side of the research."
"So, tell me, Mr. Jamison, why would a man comfortable in the hottest spots of the world want to recreate an old story that wasn't that exciting to begin with?"
"Again, I think you underestimate the level of interest in your