Dawn in Eclipse Bay

package of pasta were positioned nearby.
    “Looks like some assembly required,” he said.
    “We’re both smart people. I think we can get this done.” She picked up a small knife and went to work on a yellow bell pepper. “Why don’t you pour us a glass of wine? Probably make things go more smoothly.”
    “Good idea.” He moved out of the doorway, opened a drawer and removed a corkscrew.
    Lillian concentrated on the bell pepper.
    He should probably say something, he thought. But he wasn’t sure what she expected from him. How much had she overheard?
    “Marilyn just showed up a few minutes before you got here,” he said. “Out of the blue.”
    “She’ll be back. You’ve got something she wants.”
    “I know. Money. You’re not the first one to warn me.”
    Lillian dumped the sliced pepper into a bowl. “It’s not your money she wants.”
    “Sure it is. She needs cash to fuel her campaign.”
    “I’m not saying that she wouldn’t find your money useful. But what she really wants is someone she can trust completely, a man who will support her ambitions. She wants someone who will add strength and influence to her power base. Someone whose goals won’t conflict with hers and who will not try to compete with her.”
    The cork came out of the bottle with a small pop. “You could tell all that in the five minutes you spent talking to her?”
    “Sure. I’m a former matchmaker, remember?”
    “Oh, yeah, right. I keep forgetting about your famous matchmaking intuition.”
    “Go ahead, mock me at your own peril. But I’m here to tell you that you’ve got a lot of what she’s looking for in a husband.” Lillian paused, head tipped slightly to the side. “And you know what?”
    “What?”
    “She’s got a lot of what you stated you wanted on the Private Arrangements questionnaire. Say, maybe you were a tad more honest in your responses than I thought.”
    He poured two glasses of the cabernet, grimly pleased that his hand remained steady. “Marilyn and I already tried the couple thing. It didn’t work out.”
    “I’m serious.” Lillian put down the knife and picked up one of the wineglasses. “Marilyn meets a lot of the requirements you listed. There’s money in her family. Even if they have cut off her campaign allowance for the moment, she’ll inherit a nice bit of the Caldwell fortune someday. She’s not an elitist academic or a fuzzy-brained New Age thinker.” She paused a beat. “And she’s not the arty type.”
    He leaned against the refrigerator and swirled the wine in his glass. “You didn’t answer my question. Think she and I would be a good match if we gave it another try?”
    She reached for the box of pasta. “No.”
    “Decisive. I like that in a matchmaker. Why don’t you think she and I would be a good match?”
    “Because you lied on the questionnaire.”
    “In your opinion.”
    “Mine is the only one that counts here,” she said coolly. “I’m the professional, remember?”

chapter 7
    The storm crashed ashore shortly after ten o’clock. Time to go, Lillian thought. The edgy intimacy that had been thickening the atmosphere all evening was getting to her. She could no longer ignore the vibes. If she hung around any longer she might embarrass herself by making a pass at Gabe.
    She put down her cards. “Gin.”
    “Damn. Not again.” Gabe tossed his cards onto the cushion between them. He sprawled against the back of the sofa and regarded her with a malevolent expression. “Didn’t realize you were the competitive type.”
    “I’m a Harte, remember? We’re all competitive in some ways. Besides, it was your idea to play gin rummy.”
    “I wasn’t concentrating. Had my mind on other things.”
    “Yeah, sure. They all say that when they lose to me.” She looked out the window into the heavy darkness. “I’d better be on my way. That rain is going to get worse before it gets better.”
    He uncoiled from the depths of the sagging sofa. “I’ll drive you back to your cottage.”
    He didn’t have to sound quite so eager to get rid of her, she thought. But it was probably for the best. At least his mood seemed lighter now. Her mission of mercy was accomplished.
    “Thanks.” She rose quickly, a sense of urgency pulsing through her.
    She had left it too long, she thought. It was past time to leave. She was not sure when or how it had happened but she was suddenly, intensely aware of the heavy blanket of sensual awareness that enveloped her. It had