Midnight Bayou

sugar.
    “ Cher , why don’t you just have yourself a big old candy bar for breakfast?”
    “Don’t have one.”
    He grinned over at her, and damn it, he did take her breath away.
    “You’ve got yourself a nice spot here,” she told him. “Good morning-contemplation sort of spot.”
    “It’ll be better when I get some of the boards replaced and it’s painted. Needs more stuff, too.” He glanced around. “Pots, you know, flowers and things. A glider or a swing.”
    She spooned up some cereal. “You’re just a homebody, aren’t you, cher ?”
    “Looks like.” And it delighted him. “Who’d’ve thought?”
    “And what does the homebody have planned for today?”
    “I want to finish the first section of the exterior stairs. If the weather holds through the weekend, I’ll have a good start on the front of the house. I’ve got guys coming in to start on the other bathrooms. Got some more shopping to do. Want to come with me?”
    “I’ve never seen a man so crazy to shop.” It was tempting to give in to the charming image of hunting with him for treasures. And to have some part in selecting pieces for the house.
    And wouldn’t that go toward forging another link in making them a couple instead of two people just enjoying the moment?
    So she shook her head and denied herself the pleasure. “Unless this shopping involves looking at shoes or earrings, you’re on your own, sugar.”
    “I could probably fit that in, between hunting up drawer pulls and hardware. In fact . . . hang on a minute.”
    He rose and went inside while Lena stretched back and, cupping her mug in both hands, looked out over the gardens to the pond.
    She’d distracted him, she thought. Or at least he waspretending to be distracted from what had happened that morning. She’d damn near fainted, and that would’ve been a first.
    Something in the house, she mused, was affecting her, just as it did Declan. One side pulling her in, another pushing her out, but she was determined to stand firm.
    Was it possible he was right after all? Could it be so perfectly neat? He had been Lucian in a past life, and she his doomed Abigail?
    Had they danced in the moonlight to that old, sad song?
    If it were true, what did it mean to them now, in this life?
    Her face was clear of worry when he stepped out again. And put a small box on the table beside her bowl.
    “ Cher , you keep picking up presents like this, what’re you going to do when my birthday rolls around?”
    “I’ll think of something.”
    “Well, I don’t think you’re going to top my salt and pepper shakers, but . . .” She opened the box, expecting to see some cute and foolish pin or silly earrings. Then just stared down at the pair of ruby and diamond hearts.
    “They caught my eye.”
    “You—you can’t give me something like this.” For the first time since he’d known her, she stuttered. “You can’t just—just give me earrings like these. These are real stones. Do you think I’m too stupid to recognize real diamonds?”
    “No.” Interesting, he thought, that she’d jump from fluster into temper at the gift of diamonds. “I thought they’d look good on you.”
    “I don’t care how rich you are.” She snapped the lid back down on the sparkle of blood and ice. “I don’t care how much money you’ve got stuffed away in your portfolios and your bank accounts. I don’t want you buying me expensive jewelry. If I want diamonds and rubies, then alors , I’ll buy them for myself. I’m not sleeping with you for baubles and profit.”
    “Well, these were a big hit.” He tipped back in his chair to meet her furious eyes, as she’d leaped to her feet as she’d shouted at him. “So, they’d be okay with you if they were glass? Let me get the ground rules clear. If I see something I’d like to get for you, it has to be, what, under a hundred? One-fifty? Give me a ballpark.”
    “I don’t need you to buy me things.”
    “Lena, if you needed me to buy you things, I’d buy you groceries, for Christ’s sake. These were pretty, they made me think of you. And look at this.” He picked up the box, ran his free hand around it. “No strings attached.”
    “Something costs as much as a decent secondhand car’s got strings, cher. ”
    “Wrong. Money’s relative. I have a lot of it, so deal. You don’t want them, fine.” He shrugged, picked up his coffee. “I’ll give them to someone else.”
    Her eyes went to slits. “Oh, will