Midnight Bayou

the face. So shiny they blinded her.
    And terrified her.
    Marriage. The man wanted marriage, and she didn’tbelieve in making promises unless you’d shed blood to keep them.
    Would she? Could she?
    “I think I’d want to,” she said quietly. “I think I’d want to, for him.”
    As she spoke, a cupboard door flew open. A thick blue mug shot out and smashed at her feet.
    She leaped back, heart hammering as shards rained over her ankles. Grimly, she stared down at the blood seeping out of tiny nicks.
    “Seems I already have. You don’t want that, do you?” Bowl still clutched in her hand, she spun a circle. “You want anything but our being together. We’ll see who wins in the end, won’t we? We’ll just see.”
    Deliberately she reached down for one of the shards, then ran it over her thumb. As the blood welled, she held her hand up, let it drip. “I’m not weak, as he was. If I take love, if I promise love, I’ll keep it.”
    The sound of chimes had her bolting straight up. It was Declan’s tune. The first ringing notes of it. Fear and wonder closed her throat, had her bobbling the bowl.
    “Goddamn it, answer the door, will you?” His voice blasted downstairs, full of bitter annoyance. “Then murder whoever rang that idiot doorbell.”
    Doorbell? She pushed her free hand through her hair. He’d installed a doorbell that played “After the Ball.” Wasn’t that just like him?
    “You keep shouting at me,” she called as she marched down the hall, “you’re going to have worse than a hangover to deal with.”
    “If you’d go away and let me die in peace, I wouldn’t have to shout.”
    “In about two shakes, I’m coming up there and wringing your neck. And after I wring your neck, I’m going to kick your ass.”
    She wrenched open the door on the final threat, and found herself glaring at a very handsome couple. It took only one blink to clear the temper for her to see Declan’s eyes looking curiously back at her out of the woman’s face.
    “I’m Colleen Fitzgerald.” The woman, tidy, blond and lovely, held out an elegant hand. “And who are you? If that’s my son’s ass you’re intending to kick, I’d like to know your name.”
    “Mom?” Dripping from the shower, wearing nothing but ripped sweatpants, Declan rushed to the top of the stairs. “Hey! Mom, Dad.” Despite the ravages of the hangover, he bolted down, threw one arm around each of them and squeezed. “I thought you were flying down tomorrow.”
    “Change of plans. Are you just getting up?” Colleen demanded. “It’s after one in the afternoon.”
    “Bachelor party last night. Hard liquor, loose women.”
    “Really?” Colleen said and eyed Lena.
    “Oh, not this one. She came over to play Florence Nightingale. Colleen and Patrick Fitzgerald, Angelina Simone.”
    “Good to meet you.” Patrick, long, lanky, with his dark hair gorgeously silvered at the temples, sent Lena a generous smile. His blue eyes were bright and bold as he held out a hand.
    Then they narrowed in concern as he saw her thumb. “You’ve hurt yourself.”
    “It’s nothing.”
    “What’d you do? You’re bleeding. Jesus, Lena.” Panicked, Declan grabbed her wrist, all but plucked her off her feet and rushed her toward the kitchen.
    “It’s just a scratch. Stop it, Declan. Your parents. You’re embarrassing me,” she hissed.
    “Shut up. Let me see how deep it is.”
    Still in the doorway, Patrick turned to his wife. “She’s the one?”
    “He certainly thinks so.” Colleen pursed her lips, stepped into the house. “Let’s just see about all this.”
    “Hell of a looker.”
    “I’ve got eyes, Patrick.” And she used them to take in the house as they followed Declan’s hurried path.
    It was more, a great deal more than she’d expected. Not that she doubted her son’s taste. But she’d been led to believe the house was in serious, perhaps fatal, disrepair. And what she saw now were gracious rooms, charming details, glinting glass and wood.
    And in the kitchen she saw her son, hovering over the hand of a very annoyed, very beautiful woman who looked perfectly capable of carrying out her earlier threat.
    “I beg your pardon.” Lena elbowed Declan aside and smiled coolly at his parents. “I dropped a cup, that’s all. It’s nice to meet both of you.”
    Declan turned to root through cupboards. “You need some antiseptic and a bandage.”
    “Oh, stop fussing. You’d think I cut my hand off. And if you don’t watch