Private Scandals

fifty-fifty. Including me.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “What for?” It wasn’t a bitter question, but a simple one. “Family ties don’t run strong in the Rileys. We each have our own life, and prefer it that way.”
    “I don’t mean to criticize, but that sounds awfully cold.”
    “It is cold.” He sipped coffee and absorbed the quiet pleasure of the chilly morning with the sun breaking overthe water. “It’s also practical. We don’t have anything in common but blood. Why pretend otherwise?”
    She didn’t know how to respond. She was far away from her family, but the connection was there, always there. “They must be proud of you.”
    “I’m sure they’re pleased that the money they spent on my education wasn’t wasted. Don’t look like that.” He reached out and patted her ankle. “I wasn’t traumatized or scarred. The fact is, it’s been a plus careerwise. If you don’t have roots, you don’t have to keep ripping them out every time you get an assignment.”
    Perhaps there was no need to feel sympathy for the man, but she couldn’t prevent it spreading in her for the boy he’d been. “Roots don’t have to hold you back,” she said quietly. “Not if you know how to transplant them.”
    “Kansas?”
    “Yes?”
    “You’ve got a bite.”
    “I’ve got—oh!” Her line tugged again. If Finn hadn’t reached out and held her still, she would have leaped up and capsized them. “What do I do? I forgot. Wait, wait,” she said, before he could reply. “I want to do it myself.”
    Brow puckered in concentration, she turned the reel, feeling the resistance as the fish fought back. There was a moment when she felt an urge to release it. Then the line went taut, and the spirit of competition overwhelmed everything else.
    When she finally dropped the catch awkwardly in the bottom of the boat, she shouted with laughter. “He’s bigger than yours.”
    “Maybe.”
    She slapped Finn’s hand aside before he could remove the lure. “I’ll do it.”
    With the sun rising higher in the east, they grinned at each other over a five-pound trout.
     
    They carried four fish back to the cabin with them. Two apiece. Deanna had argued hotly for a tie breaker, but Finnhad started the motor. You didn’t catch more than you could eat, he’d told her as he cleaned them.
    “That was great.” Still revved, Deanna spun around the kitchen. “Really great. I feel like a pioneer. Are we going to have fish for lunch?”
    “Sure. We’ll fry some up. Let me beef up the fire in the living room first.”
    “I really thought it would be boring,” she said, following him in. “I mean that in a good way.” Laughing, she combed a hand through her hair. “But it was exciting, too. I don’t know. Satisfying.” She laughed again.
    “You’ve got a knack for it.” Finn added another log, sat back on his heels. “We can go out for a couple hours tomorrow morning before we head back.”
    “I’d like that.” She watched the firelight dance over his forearm as he prodded the quiet flames into a roar. His profile was to her, relaxed, his eyes dark as they stared into the fire. His hair fell over his brow, curled above the collar of his shirt. “I’m glad you brought me here.”
    He looked over his shoulder, smiled. “So am I.”
    “Not just for the fishing lesson.”
    His smile faded, but his eyes stayed on hers. “I know.”
    “You brought me here to get me away from the papers, and the talk, and the ugliness.” She looked past him, into the fire, where the flames were rising. “You haven’t asked me any more questions.”
    He laid down the poker and turned to face her. “Did you want me to?”
    “I don’t know.” She tried for a smile. “What question would you ask?”
    He asked the one that had kept him restless through the night. “Are you afraid of me?”
    She hesitated. “A little,” she heard herself say. “More afraid of what you can make me feel.”
    He glanced back at the fire. “I won’t pressure you, Deanna. Nothing happens between us that you don’t want.” He looked back at her now, his eyes dark, intense. “I promise.”
    Rather than relaxing, the tension coiled in her stomach; hiswords, and her certainty that he would keep them, balled it tighter. “It’s not that kind of fear, Finn. It’s . . . seductive.”
    The look in his eyes made her body yearn. She turned away quickly so that she could say it all, say it quickly. “Because of what happened, I’ve never