her nose and laughed. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” Jenna couldn’t say any more. She wanted to scream, cry—run. Pride kept her upright, smiling.
Callie looked at Marcus. “And you’re Marcus,” she said. “The big brother.” She gave him a frank, open look, her eyes wide and candid, and the smile turned from friendly to appreciative. “He’s told me all about his family.”
“And yet he hasn’t told us a thing about you,” Marcus said.
Callie laughed again. “He wanted to surprise you.”
“You are certainly a surprise.” Marcus paused. “A welcome one, of course. I hope you’ll enjoy New Zealand.”
“I’m looking forward to it, and to getting to know you all. Oh—and Jenna too.”
The afterthought was kindly meant, Jenna knew, but it made her conscious that she wasn’t really family, she didn’t belong.
Jane’s children had commandeered the baggage cart, and one of the bags slipped. While Callie helped to reorganize the luggage, Jenna blindly turned away, following an instinct to flee.
Marcus was in her way. His fingers circled her arm again for a second. “Just stay here.” His voice held a note of command.
She stood there while he exchanged a few quick words with his parents and Katie, who threw her friend another worried glance.
Then Marcus was back at her side, his hand on her elbow. “Come on.”
She didn’t ask where they were going, so relieved that he was taking her away from this nightmare that she didn’t care. “Katie…?” she said feebly as he whisked her across the polished floor.
“There’s room for her in Mum and Dad’s car, and she won’t want to be separated from Dean. That’s something Callie will have to get used to—how close the twins are.”
And of course with Callie sharing the back seat, there’d be no room for Jenna.
Dean’s parents expected him to stay at their home, just half an hour out of Auckland, until he’d settled. They hadn’t been expecting him to bring a fiancée, but there’d be no problem putting up an extra person in the big house where they’d brought up their family—the house Jenna had known almost as well as she knew the much smaller home she’d shared with her mother next door.
In the parking area the cool air chilled her, although the gray morning sky was turning to blue, with high white clouds drifting across it.
Marcus guided her to his sleek maroon car and opened the door for her. He didn’t speak again until they were on their way out of the airport complex, driving between green fields gradually being overtaken by new buildings.
Then he said, “I told the family I’d join them later. Have you had breakfast?”
“Breakfast?” Jenna repeated vaguely.
“Something to eat. What most people have in the morning.”
“No.” She and Katie had been too rushed and too excited to eat breakfast at that early hour. She didn’t see what relevance it had.
“Neither have I,” Marcus said. “We’ll stop on the way.”
Jenna didn’t argue, although she had never felt less hungry. Like his younger siblings, she’d developed a habit of listening to Marcus.
When they reached the outskirts of the city he found a restaurant and ordered juice, toast and pancakes for two, and made Jenna drink hot, strong coffee. With sugar.
“That’s better,” he said, after she had eaten two slices of toast and pushed the empty coffee cup away. “You’re beginning to look human again.”
“I’m never at my best in the morning,” she said.
Marcus gave her a thoughtful look. “I’m sorry, Jenna.”
She gazed down at the white ceramic salt cellar on the table—shiny and smooth. “Thanks,” she said, “for breakfast.” And for rescuing me. Stopping me from making a complete fool of myself. “I’ll pay my share.”
“Don’t be silly.” A lean hand caught hers as she made to open her purse. “I’m paying.” He removed his warm, strong fingers from hers and took out his wallet.
In the car she said, “Maybe I should just go home.”
Katie had taken it for granted that Jenna would spend the weekend with the Crossans. It was lucky, she’d said, that her twin had chosen to fly in on a Saturday. They needn’t take time off from work.
Jenna had thought it lucky too. Now she wished she could plead pressure of work, an emergency, any excuse not to be there.
His hand on the ignition key, Marcus turned a searching look on her.
“An engagement is a family affair,” Jenna suggested, her voice strained. “And I’m not family.”
Gently he said, “It smacks a bit of sour grapes, you know. Do you want to make us all feel guilty?”
“No! We—you’ve all been looking forward so much to having Dean home again. I want everyone to be happy for him and…and Callie.”
“Very noble.” His tone was extremely dry. “I suspect you’d like to slap him silly, really. I know I would. I felt like thumping him at the airport.”
Jenna blinked up at him, surprised that Marcus should feel so strongly on her behalf. “I don’t suppose I’d be missed,” she said.
He made a small, scornful noise in his throat. “You know better than that. Of course you’d be missed.” He paused. “If it’s what you want, I’ll take you back to the flat and tell the family you’re not well.” But he sounded reluctant.
They’d guess that the only thing she was nursing was a broken heart…wouldn’t they? And if Katie did believe in a sudden sickness, concern about Jenna being ill and alone would spoil her delight in her brother’s return.
She chewed her lower lip, undecided. “I suppose your whole family is sorry for me.”
“Katie might be. I guess you’ve told her how you feel?”
After a moment Jenna shook her head. “Not really. I mean…not in so many words.” She’d assumed that Katie knew—but then she’d assumed Dean felt the same. And she’d been totally, unbelievably wrong. “I thought everyone knew.” She lifted her eyes to his almost accusingly. “You did.”
His mouth moved in a slight smile. “I don’t think my parents have recognized yet that you and the twins are actually grown up. They’ve never taken your adoration of Dean seriously. And Jane has been pretty much occupied with her own family for the past few years. I take it you haven’t been exchanging love letters with my little brother?”
She’d always signed her regular letters with “Love, Jenna.” And Dean had sent his love in return when he wrote, but his much-less-frequent letters
