Free Temptation by Raven McAllan Page B

but it was Christophe, along with a tall blond-haired older lady, who smiled at her.
    “I’m Elizabeth. I thought you might like company to the airport.”
    Meryl sagged. She hadn’t realized just how much that thought would comfort her. “Yes, please.”
    Christophe picked up her case. Meryl grabbed her shoulder bag, and followed him and Elizabeth along the corridor to the main door. As they left the building, she glanced to one side—the dark shape was menacing. As they walked away, a security light flickered and the scowl on the face of Semper was clearly visible.
    Elizabeth touched Christophe’s arm. “You need to sort him out.”
    Christophe laughed, and it made Meryl shiver. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.
    “Oh, don’t worry. I intend to.” His look toward Semper had so much ice and ire in it that Meryl trembled. She wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of it, or the tongue-lashing she thought was waiting to be given, even though it would be well-deserved.
    “He’s been getting out of control lately, and thinks he’s above the rules and regulations of the island,” Elizabeth said. “He isn’t, and that will be pointed out to him in a no uncertain terms. Now, can you see all right? Christophe forgets that not everyone is gifted with his vision, and overlooks the need to switch the lights on.”
    Christophe laughed, and Meryl watched as the moonlight showed how he waved his hand in the air. The low-level lights that illuminated the path came on. She giggled. “He forgot to say abracadabra.”
    “I thought it,” Christophe said gravely. “That’s just as good.”
    Meryl loved the way he could poke fun about his gift, because from the little Marloth had said, and the bit she’d understood herself, it was certain Christophe had more than normal skills.
    “He’s a witch,” Elizabeth told her as they reached the wharf. “I could hear you wondering. As am I.”
    “Wondering or a witch?” Meryl asked her as they climbed aboard the speedboat.
    “I’m not wondering, I am a witch.” Elizabeth raised her voice to be heard above the noise of the engine. “And I can tell you now, don’t worry, it will work out. Have faith in your love.”
* * * * *
     
    It was all well and good saying you had faith, something else to keep on believing it. As the days passed by, Meryl struggled. She’d returned to Scotland, and then after a few days, gone back to work. She told a startled Atalanta, she just hadn’t enjoyed herself. Atalanta had given her a searching look, but not questioned further. If anything, she’d kept a closer eye on her than normal. In the end, Meryl protested.
    “Why are you watching me like I’m going to break any minute? And if you try and make me drink any more milk, I swear I’m going to throw up. What the hell is going on?”
    Atalanta closed the door of the office and pushed Meryl into the chair. “Are you pregnant?”
    Meryl looked at her as if she’d grown two heads. If she hadn’t been sitting down, she’d have fallen over. Where on earth had she gotten that idea from? “Am I what? Grief, no. Why do you think that? Just because the sight of whipped cream makes me green at the gills does not mean I’m pregnant. If you must know, I ate it on the plane home and now I feel sick when I see it. That flight was so not good.” There had been lots of turbulence and she’d been sick with worry, wondering what was happening with Marloth and his enemies. “I feel the same way about salmon, as well. They were both on the menu. I can’t stand the sight or thought of them now, though I reckon it will pass.”
    “It better. Salmon is one of our customer’s favorites, and you cook it better than any of us.” Atalanta stared at her for so long, Meryl squirmed. But she’d had confirmation from her body that she wasn’t pregnant. She hadn’t known whether to be happy or sad. Finally, Atalanta nodded.
    “Well, okay, then if you’re not pregnant, you can stand a shock. Check your