same annoyingly patient tone. “You were the one who was in a rush to get married. Neither one of us had much time to think.”
“I was in love with you!” she practically shouted, irritated by his determination to be logical when she was an emotional wreck. “Why would I want to waste time on a long engagement?”
Warren’s tolerant expression never wavered. It was one of the things she’d grown to hate about him. He wouldn’t fight with her. He was always so damn reasonable. It might be a terrific trait in a shrink, but in a boyfriend it had been infuriating, especially for a woman who enjoyed a good argument.
“Maggie, as much as I would love to think that you fell head over heels in love with me so quickly we both know the rush was all about keeping up with Dinah and Cord. The minute they got married, you started to panic. You hated being left behind and I was handy.”
“You’re wrong,” she protested stubbornly, not liking the picture he was painting.
“Am I?” he asked mildly. “We’d already stopped seeing each other after just a few mostly disastrous dates, but right in the middle of Cord and Dinah’s wedding reception, you decided we should give it another chance.”
“Because my family adored you, because everyone said you were perfect for me. I was being open-minded,” she countered. “Isn’t that what the sensible women you so admire do?”
Cord tried unsuccessfully to swallow a chuckle. Warren and Dinah scowled at him.
“I have to say, I think Warren is right,” Dinah chimed in. “I think you latched on to Warren as if he were the last life raft in the ocean.”
“Oh, what do you know?” Maggie retorted. “You and Cord are so into each other you barely know anyone else is around.”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Dinah asked, completely unfazed by Maggie’s nasty tone. “We can’t be that self-absorbed.”
“How did you find me, by the way? I thought I’d covered my tracks pretty well.” The truth was, she hadn’t tried all that hard. In fact, in her state of self-pity, she hadn’t been able to imagine anyone caring enough to come after her.
“I’m a journalist,” Dinah reminded her. “I know how to make phone calls. Besides, I know you. I knew you’d never go too far from home. Charleston is in your blood.”
“More’s the pity,” Maggie grumbled. She really did need to broaden her horizons. Maybe that was what was wrong with her life. She’d never had any desire to be anyplace except South Carolina’s Low Country. Maybe if she’d traveled the world the way Dinah had during her career as a foreign correspondent for a TV network, Maggie would have discovered some other place where she could be perfectly happy. At least it would have gotten her out from under her mother’s judgmental gaze.
“Do you really want to talk about the pros and cons of living in Charleston?” Dinah inquired tartly.
“Not particularly,” Maggie said.
“Then let’s focus on getting your life back on track. Moping around out here all by yourself is not you, Maggie.”
“I’m not moping,” Maggie retorted. “I’m on vacation.”
“Oh, please. You were halfway through that pint of ice cream when we walked in,” Dinah responded. “That’s moping. Believe me, I know all the signs. It’s obvious you’re in trouble and we want to help.”
“I really don’t need the three of you sitting here with these gloomy expressions on your faces trying to plan out my life. Hell, Dinah, you’re the one who talked Warren into going out with me in the first place. Considering how things turned out, I should hate you for that.”
In fact, she was pretty darn irritated about it. If it hadn’t been for Dinah’s meddling, Maggie would never in a million years have fallen, however halfheartedly, for a man like Warren Blake. Rock-steady and dependable might suit a lot of women, but such traits had always bored Maggie to tears. She preferred dark, dangerous and sexy. Men like Cord Beaufort, as a matter of fact.
If she were being totally honest, she’d have to admit she’d known all along that with Warren, she was settling for someone safe. He might not rock her world, but he’d never hurt her, either. As it turned out, she’d been wrong. He had hurt her, though mostly it was her ego that was bruised. If a man like Warren couldn’t truly love her, who would?
That was what she’d been pondering in her Sullivan’s Island hideaway for a few weeks now. If she wasn’t interesting enough, sexy enough or lovable enough for Warren, then she might as well resign herself to spinsterhood. He was her last chance. Her sure thing. Sort of the way Bobby Beaufort, Cord’s sweet, but dull-as dishwater brother, had been Dinah’s backup plan till her hormones and good sense had interceded.
Even as Maggie was struck by that notion, she realized she should have seen the handwriting on the wall. Wasn’t she the one who’d told Dinah that safe was never going to be enough? If it wasn’t good enough for Dinah, why had she, Maggie, ever thought it would work for her? They’d always been like two peas in a pod when it came to choosing between conventional and unconventional.
“Mind if I say something?” Cord asked, his gaze filled with surprising compassion. He spoke in that slow, lazy drawl that had once sent shivers down Maggie’s spine till she’d realized he’d never want anyone but Dinah. She’d learned to ignore the attraction and look in other directions. Warren, unfortunately, had been in the vicinity.
Maggie shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Here’s the way I see it,” he began. “Nothing’s stopping you from sitting in this cozy little beach house all the live-long day, if that’s what you want to do. I’m sure your art and antiques gallery can pretty much run itself, thanks to those competent employees you’ve hired. And if it doesn’t, so what? You’ve got a nice little trust fund from your daddy. You don’t need to do a thing.”
Maggie bristled. She’d never liked thinking of herself as a spoiled little rich girl who didn’t need to work for a living. She’d poured heart and soul into Images, a high-end shop that catered to Charleston’s wealthier citizens and the tourists who visited the city’s historic district. She’d never treated it like a hobby, and had taken pride in its success. She also felt a certain amount of perverse satisfaction just knowing that it drove her mother crazy to think of her daughter being in “trade,” as she put it. Juliette Forsythe should have lived in some earlier century.
As for her employees, Maggie didn’t know where Cord had gotten the idea they were competent. She’d be lucky if they didn’t run the place into bankruptcy. Although, until right this second with Cord taunting her, she hadn’t much cared.
But if Cord was aware of her growing indignation, he gave no indication. “Maggie’s a smart woman,” he continued mildly, aiming his words at Dinah and Warren and leaving Maggie to draw her own conclusions. “This has obviously been a trying time for her. I think we should let her decide for herself how she wants to spend her days. She can go back to work running her business, if that’s what matters to her. She can come on out and help us with our project and make a real difference in someone’s life. Or she can sit right here and feel sorry for herself. It’s her choice. I think once we clear out and give her some breathing room, she’ll make the right decision.”
Maggie saw the trap at once. If she did what she wanted to
