Page 38 of The Rebel's Return

Though the check had not yet arrived, the bills Lucas tossed on the table were more than sufficient to pay for their meals. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

The parking lot was even more crowded now than before, and traffic was heavy on the streets. But Rachel wasn’t aware of anyone except the tall, dark man walking at her side.

She unlocked her car door, then looked up at him. “Lunch was very...enlightening. Thank you for telling me the things Roger said to you. I suppose you answered some questions for me.”

“And provoked a few new ones, I’m certain.”

“Yes.”

Lucas glanced at the street. “There’s a lot of traffic. Drive carefully.”

“I will.” She opened her door, then hesitated. Without looking at him, she asked, “Will I see you again before you leave?”

“You know where to find me. If you want to find me.”

She looked up at him. “You hurt me very badly, Lucas. It took me a long time to get over you.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “How long did it take?” he asked after a moment.

Fifteen years and counting, she almost answered. But she wasn’t prepared to be quite that honest. “Too long,” she said quietly.

He stepped back. “Goodbye, Rachel.”

At least he’d said it this time. She nodded mutely and climbed into her car, made clumsy by her haste and the thin film of tears that had suddenly appeared in her eyes.

CALEB AND BOBBIE McBride’s house was filled almost to the rafters with people. And all of them seemed to be talking at once.

Lucas, who’d admittedly been somewhat of a loner for the past fifteen years, attending social occasions only when absolutely necessary, was having a rather difficult time keeping up with everything going on around him.

His relatives had all been told he would be there, so they greeted him with more curiosity than surprise. His Aunt Bobbie, the hostess for the evening, took it upon herself to introduce Lucas back into the family. Holding his arm in a grip that felt more restraining than supportive, she propelled him around the room.

“You remember my daughter, Tara, of course,” she said in her booming, schoolteacher’s voice.

Lucas nodded pleasantly to his delicately pretty cousin, hoping he wasn’t expected to kiss her or anything. He told himself he hardly remembered her—though he was sure her hair had been blond last time he’d seen her, rather than the flattering dark red it was now. “Nice to see you again, Tara.”

; She answered with a touch of the shyness he remembered. “Hello, Lucas. I’d like you to meet my husband, Blake Fox.”

Blake Fox was golden-blond with bright, sharp blue eyes. He wore a loose-fitting blue shirt, suspenders, and pleated gray slacks that could have come from the wardrobe of an old Cary Grant movie. An eccentric type, obviously, Lucas mused, remembering that Emily had told him Fox was a private investigator.

“So you’re the prodigal son I’ve heard so much about,” Blake said, taking Lucas’s hand in a firm grip.

“I’m more often referred to as the black sheep of the family,” Lucas drawled.

“No, that’s my title,” a well-built blonde murmured as she moved close to Lucas’s side. “Let’s keep the facts straight, cuz.”

Lucas didn’t have to be told who this was. “Well, if it isn’t the beauty queen. Where’s your tiara, Savannah?”

“Still as obnoxious as ever, I see.” She didn’t wait for Lucas to decide how to greet her, but rose on tiptoes to lightly kiss his cheek. “Welcome back, Lucas.”

“Thanks.”

It was possible, Lucas decided, that Savannah was no longer the spoiled, shallow cheerleader he’d remembered, just as he had outgrown his smart mouth and fiery temper. She was, however, as stunningly attractive as ever.

She drew a dark-haired, dark-eyed man to her side. “This is my husband, Kit Pace.”

Lucas shook the man’s hand. “Christopher Pace. I’ve read and enjoyed several of your books.”