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‘That’s because you’re so annoying!’
Her voice had risen to a passionate outburst, loud enough to attract Michael’s and Lucy’s attention, breaking their absorption in each other. They paused in their walk, turning around with eyebrows raised.
‘It’s okay,’ Elizabeth quickly assured them. ‘Harry was just being Harry.’
‘Be nice to Elizabeth, Harry,’ Michael chided. ‘It’s her birthday.’
‘I am being nice,’ he protested.
‘Try harder,’ Michael advised, dismissing the distraction to continue his tête-à-tête with Lucy.
‘Right!’ Harry muttered. ‘We need some control here, Ellie, if you want to pretend there’s nothing wrong in your world.’
‘The only thing wrong in my world is you,’ she muttered back fiercely. ‘And don’t call me Ellie.’
‘Elizabeth reigns,’ he said in mock resignation.
She bit her lips, determined not to rise to any more of his baits.
They walked on for a while before he started again.
‘This won’t do,’ he said decisively. ‘We’ll be at the restaurant soon. If you sit there in glum silence, I’ll get the blame for it and that’s not fair. It’s not my fault that Mickey’s attracted to your sister. Your best move is to start flirting with me. Who knows? He might suddenly get jealous.’
This suggestion stirred a flicker of hope. Maybe …
The shared laughter from the couple in front of them dashed the hope before it could take wing. Nevertheless, Harry did have a valid point. If she didn’t pretend to be having a good time, even Michael and Lucy would realise this birthday treat was no treat at all for her. She had to look happy even though she couldn’t be happy.
She sighed and slid him a weighing look. ‘You know it won’t mean anything if I flirt with you.’
‘Not a thing!’ he readily agreed.
‘It’s just for the sake of making a cheerful party.’
‘Of course.’
‘It’s obvious that you’re a dyed-in-the-wool playboy, and normally I wouldn’t have anything to do with you, Harry, but since I’m stuck with you on this occasion, I’ll play along for once.’
‘Good thinking! Though I take exception to the playboy tag. I do know how to play, which I consider an important part of living—something I suspect you do too little of—but that’s not all I am.’
‘Whatever …’ She shrugged off any argument about his personality. Arguing would only get her all heated again and she needed to be calm, in control of herself. Harry was right about that.
They’d walked past the yacht club and were on the path to the cocktail bar adjoining the restaurant when Harry made his next move.
‘Hey, Mickey!’ he called out. ‘I’ll buy the girls cocktails while you see the maître d’ about our table.’
‘Okay’ was tossed back at him, his attention reverting to Lucy with barely a pause.
‘No doubt about it, he’s besotted,’ Harry dryly commented. ‘How old are you today, Elizabeth?’
‘Thirty,’ she answered on a defeated sigh. No point in hiding it.
‘Ah! The big three zero. Time to make a change.’
Precisely what she had thought. And still had to think now that Michael had proved his disinterest in her personally.
‘Go with me on this,’ Harry urged.
‘Go with you on what?’
‘Something I was discussing with Mickey this morning. I’ll bring it up again after lunch. Just don’t dismiss it out of hand. It would be the perfect change for you.’
‘You couldn’t possibly know what’s perfect for me, Harry,’ she said sceptically.
He cocked a teasing eyebrow. ‘I might just be a better judge on that than you think I am.’
She shook her head, her eyes mocking this particular belief in himself.
He grinned. ‘Wait and see.’
She wasn’t about to push him on it. Harry enjoyed being tantalising. Elizabeth had found her best course was simply to show complete disinterest. In this case, she couldn’t care less what he had in mind. All she cared about was getting through lunch without showing how miserable she was.
Michael left them at the cocktail bar, striding swiftly into the restaurant to speak to the maître d’, obviously in a hurry to get back to Lucy. Harry led them to a set of two-seater lounges with a low table in between and saw them settled with her and Lucy facing each other.
‘Now, let me select cocktails for you both,’ he said, the vivid blue eyes twinkling confidence in his choices. ‘A Margarita for you, Elizabeth.’
It surprised her that he’d actually picked her favourite. ‘Why that one?’ she asked, curious about his correct guessing.
He grinned. ‘Because you’re the salt of the earth and I revere you for it.’
She rolled her eyes. The day Harry Finn showed any reverence for her was yet to dawn. He was just making a link to the salt-encrusted rim of the glass that was always used for a Margarita cocktail.
‘You’re right on both counts,’ Lucy happily volunteered. ‘Ellie loves Margaritas and she is the salt of the earth. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s always been my anchor.’
‘An anchor,’ Harry repeated musingly. ‘I think that’s what’s been missing from my life.’
‘An anchor would only weigh you down, Harry,’ Elizabeth put in dryly. ‘It would feel like an albatross around your neck.’
‘Some chains I wouldn’t mind wearing.’
‘Try gold.’
He laughed.
‘Do you two always spar like this?’ Lucy asked, eyeing them speculatively.
‘Sparks invariably fly,’ Harry claimed.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say she invariably hosed them down, remembering just in time that flirting was the order of this afternoon, so she gave him an arch look and said, ‘I would have to admit that being with Harry is somewhat invigorating.’
Lucy laughed and clapped her hands. ‘Oh, I love it! What a great lunch we’ll all have together!’ Her eyes sparkled at Harry. ‘What cocktail will you choose for me?’
‘For the sunshine girl … A Piña Colada.’
She clapped her hands again. ‘Well done, Harry. That’s my favourite.’
‘At your service.’ He twirled his hand in a salute to them both and headed off to the bar.
Lucy was beside herself with delight. ‘He’s just what you need, Ellie. Loads of fun. You’ve been carrying responsibility for so long, it’s well past time you let loose and had a wild flutter for once. Be a butterfly instead of a worker bee.’
At least she didn’t say moth, Elizabeth thought wryly.
‘I might just do that,’ she drawled, encouraging the idea there was a connection between her and Harry.
‘Go for it,’ Lucy urged, bouncing forward on her seat in excitement. ‘I’m going for Michael. He’s an absolute dreamboat. I’m so glad I wasn’t held up any longer at the cemetery. I might have missed out on meeting him. Why didn’t you tell me your boss was gorgeous?’
‘I’ve always thought him a bit cold,’ she said carefully.
Lucy threw up her hands in exasperation at her sister’s lack of discernment. ‘Believe me. The guy is hot! He makes me sizzle.’
Elizabeth shrugged. ‘I guess it’s a matter of chemistry. Harry is the hot one for me.’ It wasn’t entirely a lie. He frequently raised her temperature … with anger or annoyance.
Lucy heaved a happy sigh. ‘Brothers and sisters … wouldn’t it be great if we ended up together … all happy families.’
Elizabeth’s mind reeled from even considering such a prospect. ‘I think that’s a huge leap into the future. Let’s just take one day at a time.’
‘Oh, you’re always so sensible, Ellie.’
‘Which is something I value very highly in your sister,’ Michael declared, picking up on Lucy’s words and smiling warmly at Elizabeth as he returned, but he seated himself beside Lucy, who instantly switched on a brilliant smile for him, fulsomely agreeing, ‘Oh, I do, too. But I also want Ellie to have fun.’
‘Which is where I come in,’ Harry said, also catching Lucy’s words as he came back. His eyes danced wicked mischief at Elizabeth. ‘Starting with cocktails. The bartender will bring them over. Here are the peanuts and pretzels.’
He placed a bowl of them on the table and settled himself beside Elizabeth, too closely for her comfort. She wanted to shift away and somehow Harry knew it, instantly throwing her a challenging look that made her sit still and suffer his male animal impact. If she was really attracted to him, she would welcome it. Playing this pretend-game was not going to be easy, but she had to now in front of Lucy.
Her sister turned her smile to Harry. ‘What cocktail did you order for Michael?’
‘A Manhattan. Mickey is highly civilised. He actually forgets about sunshine until it sparkles over him.’
Lucy laughed. ‘And yourself?’
‘Ah, the open sea is my business. I’m a salty man so I share Elizabeth’s taste for Margaritas.’
‘The open sea?’ Lucy queried.
‘Harry looks after the tourist side of Finn’s Fisheries,’ Michael answered. ‘I take care of buying in the stock for all our franchises.’
‘Ah!’ Lucy nodded, understanding why Harry was dressed the way he was and how very different the brothers were.
Why she was attracted to Michael and not Harry was beyond Elizabeth’s understanding. Sunshine and sea should go together. They both had frivolous natures. It wasn’t fair that sexual chemistry had struck in the wrong place. Why couldn’t it strike sensibly?
The bartender arrived with their cocktails.
Harry handed her the Margarita and clicked his glass against hers. ‘Happy Birthday, Elizabeth,’ he said warmly, making her squirm inside even as she forced a smile and thanked him.
The others followed suit with their glasses and well-wishing.
Elizabeth settled back against the cushions and sipped her cocktail, silently brooding over the totally non-sensible ironies of life. Was there any reward for being sensible? The old saying that good things come to those who wait was not proving true for her.
She wondered how long was the life of a butterfly.
Probably very short.
But it might be sweet if she could bring herself to be a butterfly—just cut loose from all her safety nets and fly wild for a while, thinking of nothing but having a good time. She should take a vacation, get right away from whatever was developing between Michael and Lucy, try drowning her misery with mindless pleasures.
The Margarita was good. And it packed quite a punch. Maybe if she stopped being sensible and had two or three of them, her mind would get fuzzy enough to put this whole situation at an emotional distance, let her float through lunch … like a butterfly.
CHAPTER FOUR
ELIZABETH stared blankly at the luncheon menu. Food. She had to choose something. Her head was swimming from two Margaritas in quick succession. Bad idea, thinking alcohol could fix anything. It didn’t help at all.
‘I bet I know what you’re going to order, Ellie,’ Lucy said with a confident grin.
‘What?’ Any suggestion was welcome.
‘The chilli mud crab.’
Chilli. Not today. Her stomach was in too fragile a state.
‘Actually, I can’t see that on the menu,’ Michael said, glancing quizzically at Lucy.
‘Oh, I didn’t really look. I just assumed,’ she quickly defended. No way would she admit that her dyslexia made reading menus difficult. ‘What have you decided on, Michael?’
Lucy would undoubtedly choose the same. She was so adept at hiding her disability, hardly anyone ever guessed she had a problem.
‘How about sharing a seafood platter for two with me, Elizabeth?’ Harry said, leaning closer to point out the platter’s contents on the menu. ‘You get crab on it, as well as all the other goodies and we can nibble away on everything as we please.’
‘Harry will eat the lion’s share,’ Michael warned.
Yes, Elizabeth thought, relieved to have such ready help, making it easier for her lack of appetite to go unnoticed.
Harry instantly raised a hand for solemn vowing. ‘I swear I’ll give you first choice of each titbit.’
‘Okay, that’s a done deal,’ she said, closing the menu and slanting her food-rescuer a grateful smile.
‘Sealed with a kiss,’ he said, bright blue eyes twinkling wickedly as he leaned closer still and pecked her on the cheek.
Her teeth grated together as heat bloomed from the intimate skin contact. The flirting agreement flew right out of her mind. His ability to discomfort her on any spot whatsoever had her snapping, ‘You can keep that mouth of yours for eating, Harry.’
He gave her his evil grin as he retorted, ‘Elizabeth, I live for the day when I’ll eat you all up.’
