Renaissance by Peter David

Author:Peter David
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Inc
Published: 2000-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

MORGAN

“I DINNA LIKE ’IM.”

Morgan had been lying out on the beach, sunglasses shielding her eyes. It was, of course, yet another glorious day on Risa. Rafe had been lying next to her, and they had been idly holding hands and chatting about nothing of any major consequence. All in all, it had been extremely pleasant. Then, commenting that he had promised to spend time with Nik, Rafe excused himself and padded off across the sand. Morgan watched him go, rather pleased. He certainly had a good look about him when he was walking away.

So she was understandably startled when the familiar voice with the even more familiar brogue spoke from about a foot away. She peered over the sunglasses and up at Scotty. From the angle at which she was looking up at him, his body was in silhouette, and it seemed as if he was blotting out the sun.

“I beg your pardon?” she said.

“I’m tellin’ ye as a friend … ah dinna like ’im.”

“Odd way of saying hello, Scotty.”

“Hello. Ah dinna like ’im.”

“Would the ’im in question be Rafe?”

“Aye.”

She stared up at him for a few moments. “Are you going to sit?” she inquired.

“Are ye gonna reply to muh question?”

“Question? Was there a question in there? I just heard a statement. You said you didn’t like him. Which, oddly enough, doesn’t factor in all that much, considering that you’re not the one who’s seeing him. Why don’t you like him—and furthermore, why am I bothering to ask you why you don’t like him, because it’s none of your business!”

“Hey, Scotty!” called several guests as they walked past. Scotty tossed off a salute to them and turned back to Morgan.

“Ah’m making it muh business,” he said.

“How very considerate of you. Do you do that for all the guests?”

“Ah would like t’think,” Scotty said, “that we’d moved a bit beyond th’ greeter-and-guest relationship.”

“Have we?” Her eyebrows puckered in surprise. “To be honest, Scotty, I wasn’t getting that impression at all.” She stretched, and then stood. She couldn’t find it in her heart to be annoyed with him; deep down, he really was sweet, and he certainly meant well. He was just …

Jealous?

How charming. How utterly charming.

“You’re jealous,” she said.

Scotty looked utterly taken aback. His mouth moved, but no words came out of it. And then, to her surprise, he turned and walked away. For a moment, Morgan toyed with the idea of letting him just storm off, but something made her follow him. She caught up with him quickly, her towel slung over her back. “Truth hurt, Scotty?” she asked.

“What do ah look like t’ye?” he demanded, without even looking at her. Little sprays of sand were being kicked up in his wake. “Do ah look like a schoolboy?”

“No, but you’re acting like one.”

“Ah’m acting like a friend who’s concerned about ye, and all ye come back with is that ah’m jealous. What kind of codswallop is that?”

“It’s the truth, Scotty, at least so far as I see it.”

“Then ah’m afraid ye aren’t takin’ much of a look at it at all.

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