Three Fates

felt better if Cleo had been there with him. Egging him on, or giving him grief or . . . just being there. He’d become entirely too used to having her around.
    They’d have to work out what they intended to do about that once they’d dealt with the Fates. With Anita. They’d have to work out the single fact that he couldn’t live in New York and stay sane. Visit, certainly, but live in a place so crowded you could barely draw one clean breath? No, not even for her.
    Christ, he wanted the sea again, and the quiet rain. He wanted the hills and the sound of cathedral bells. Most of all he wanted to wake up in a place where he knew if he walked down to the quay or the boatyard, or just wandered the steep streets, he would come across people who knew him, knew his family.
    Who were family.
    She’d probably hate it in Cobh, he thought and tapped his fingers restlessly on the wheel. The very things that sustained him would likely drive her mad.
    Why should two people who came from such different places, who wanted such different things, have fallen in love?
    One of fate’s little jokes, he supposed.
    In the end, she’d probably go her way and he his, so the rest of the thread of their lives would spin out with an ocean between them. The thought already depressed him. He was so busy chewing over his own misery that he nearly didn’t register the long black limo that glided up in front of Anita’s town house.
    He tucked away his personal troubles and clicked into gear. “Well now,” he said aloud. “Travel in style, don’t you?”
    He watched the uniformed driver get out, walk to the front door and ring the bell. Gideon was too far away to see who answered, but there was a brief conversation, then the driver returned to the car.
    They both waited a full ten minutes by Gideon’s watch before another man—the butler, Gideon assumed—came out carrying two large suitcases. A young woman trailed behind him rolling another, smaller case.
    While the three of them loaded the trunk, Gideon pressed the buttons of the car phone. “They’re loading the car,” he told his brother. “A limo big as a whale, and enough luggage for a modeling troupe.”
    He got his first in-person look at Anita when she stepped through the door. Her hair was copper bright and sleekly styled around a face that looked to be soft to the touch. Her body—and he could easily see what had appealed to his brother there—was very female with its generous curves.
    He wondered, studying her, what had twisted inside her to make her what she was. He wondered, too, why others couldn’t see how out of place she was with her polish and gloss in that fine, dignified old house.
    Perhaps she saw it, Gideon mused, whenever she looked in the mirror. That might be one more thing that drove her.
    And he’d leave the philosophizing to Tia.
    “Here’s the woman of the hour, just coming out.”
    “Remember, if you lose them, you’ve just to go to the airport and pick her up again there.”
    “I’m not going to lose them. I can drive better on the wrong side of the road than most of the people in this city can on the right side. They’re pulling away now. I’ll get back to you from the airport.”
    Malachi hung up, turned to Tia. “They’re moving.”
    “I feel a little queasy.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “But I’m starting to like it. I don’t know what I’m going to do when my life gets back to normal.”
    He took her hand, pressed his lips to her fingers. “We’ll have to see it doesn’t.”
    Flustered, Tia pressed the intercom and contacted the garage. “She’s on her way to the airport. Gideon’s behind her.”
    “Then let’s move out.” Jack clicked off.
    Tia pushed away from the console, rose.
    “Steady?” Malachi asked her.
    “Steady enough. Have you ever planted anything?”
    “Like a tree?” He stepped into the elevator with her.
    “I was thinking more like seeds. Different seeds in different places.” She took a deep breath. “It’s going to be a very interesting garden when we’re done.”
    “Any regrets?”
    “Not so far. And I don’t intend to have any.” She stepped out into the garage, looked over to where Cleo, Rebecca and Jack were already beside the van. These people, she thought, these fascinating people were her friends.
    No, she didn’t have any regrets.
    “Let’s rock and roll,” Cleo said.
    On this leg, Tia manned the keyboard and Malachi communication. With Jack and Rebecca in the