Eclipse Bay

tonight.”
    “Definitely not Mr. Right.”
    “No.”
    “Bet you’ve got a long list of requirements that Mr. Right will have to meet before you agree to marry him, don’t you?”
    The dry question made her uncomfortable. “So, I know what I want in a husband. So what? Just because you don’t make long-range plans doesn’t mean everyone else has to play their life by ear.”
    “True.” Without warning, he dropped down onto the rock beside her. The movement was easy, almost catlike. “Tell me, what kind of hoops will Mr. Right have to jump through before you’ll agree to marry him?”
    Stung, she held up one hand and ticked off the basics. “He’ll be intelligent, well educated, a graduate of a good school, and successful in his field. He’ll also be loyal, honorable, decent, and trustworthy.”
    “No criminal record?”
    “Definitely no criminal record.” She held up her other hand and continued down the list. “He’ll be dependable, kind, sensitive, and capable of making a commitment. Someone I can talk to. Someone who shares my interests and goals. That’s very important, you know.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “He’ll also get along well with my family, love animals, and be very supportive of my career.”
    Rafe lounged back on his elbows. “But other than that, just an ordinary guy?”
    For some inexplicable reason his mockery hurt. “You think I’m asking too much?”
    He smiled faintly. “Get real. The guy you’re looking for doesn’t exist. Or if he does, he’ll have some fatal flaw that you didn’t expect.”
    “Is that so?” She narrowed her eyes. “How about your Ms. Right? Got any idea of what she’ll be like?”
    “No. Doubt if there is one. Not that it matters.”
    “Because you’re not interested in a monogamous commitment?” she asked acidly.
    “No, because the men in my family aren’t much good when it comes to marriage. Figure the odds are against me getting lucky.”
    She could hardly argue that point. His grandfather’s four spectacularly failed marriages were common knowledge. Rafe’s father, Sinclair, had had two wives before he had engaged in the tumultuous affair with his model that had produced his sons. The assumption was that if he had not died in the motorcycle accident, Sinclair would have racked up a string of divorces and affairs that would have made Mitchell’s record pale in comparison.
    “Marriage should not be viewed as a lottery or a crapshoot,” she said sternly. “It’s a serious step, and it should be treated in a logical, rational manner.”
    “You think it’s that easy?”
    “I never said it’s easy. I said it should be approached with intelligence and sound common sense.”
    “Where’s the fun in that?”
    She gritted her teeth. “You’re teasing me again.”
    “Face it—we Madisons don’t usually do things that involve common sense. We probably lack that gene.”
    “Don’t give me that garbage. I’m serious about this, Rafe. I refuse to believe that you can’t change what you see as your destiny.”
    He slanted her an appraising glance. “You really think I could be the one to break the mold?”
    “If you want to break it badly enough, yes, I really think you can do it.”
    “Amazing. Who would have thought a Harte would be such a dreamer?”
    “All right, what are you going to do with your life?”
    “Well,” he drawled, “I’ve noticed that the cult and guru businesses are profitable.”
    “Get serious. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Don’t throw it away. Think about what you want. Make some concrete plans. Develop solid goals and then work toward them.”
    “You don’t think my present career objective is a worthy goal?”
    “Staying out of jail is okay as far as it goes. But it’s not enough, Rafe. You know it isn’t enough.”
    “Maybe not, but it’s all I’ve got at the moment.” He glanced at his watch. The dial glowed in the moonlight. “I think it’s time that you went home.”
    Automatically she looked at her own watch. “Good grief, it’s after one. It’s going to take at least half an hour to walk home from here. I’ve got to get going.”
    He came up off the rock in a fluid movement. “I’ll walk with you.”
    “That’s not necessary.”
    “Yes it is. I’m a Madison and you’re a Harte.”
    “So what?”
    “So, if something were to happen to you between here and your place and your folks found out that I was the last guy to see you, I’d get the blame, for