by Nora Roberts
“This is crazy,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“It’s not supposed to happen.” But it was. She knew it. She had known it from the first meeting. “It can’t happen,” she corrected.
“Why?”
“Don’t ask me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. She couldn’t resist letting her fingers play along his face even as she prepared herself to deny both of them. “I can’t explain. If I could you wouldn’t understand.”
“If there’s someone else I don’t give a damn.”
“No, there’s no one.” She closed her eyes a moment, then opened them again to stare at him. “There’s no one else.”
Why was he hesitating? She was here, aroused, inches away from total surrender. He had only to ignore the confused plea in her eyes and take. But even with his blood hot, the need pressing, he couldn’t ignore it. “It might not be now, it might not be here, but it will be, Aurora.”
It would be. Had to be. The part of her that knew it fought a frantic tug-of-war with the part that had to deny it. “Let me go, David.”
Trapped by his own feelings, churning with his own needs, he pulled her up. “What kind of game are you playing?”
She was cold. Freezing. She felt each separate chill run over her skin. “It’s called survival.”
“Damn it, Aurora.” She was so beautiful. Why did she suddenly have to be so beautiful? Why did she suddenly have to look so fragile? “What does being with me, making love with me, have to do with your survival?”
“Nothing.” She nearly laughed as she felt the limo cruise to a halt. “Nothing at all if it were just that simple.”
“Why complicate it? We want each other. We’re both adults. People become lovers every day without doing themselves any damage.”
“Some people.” She let out a shuddering breath. “I’m not some people. If it were so simple, I’d make love with you right here, in the back seat of this car. I won’t tell you I don’t want to.” She turned to look at him and the vulnerability in her eyes was haunted by regrets. “But it’s not simple. Making love with you would be easy. Falling in love with you wouldn’t.”
Before he could move, she’d pushed open the door and was on the street.
“Aurora.” He was beside her, a hand on her arm, but she shook him off. “You can’t expect to just walk off after a statement like that.”
“That’s just what I’m doing,” she corrected, and shook him off a second time.
“I’ll take you up.” With what willpower he had left, he held on to patience.
“No. Just go.”
“We have to talk.”
“No.” Neither of them was prepared for the desperation in her voice. “I want you to go. It’s late. I’m tired. I’m not thinking straight.”
“If we don’t talk this out now, we’ll just have to do it later.”
“Later, then.” She would have promised him anything for freedom at that moment. “I want you to go now, David.” When he continued to hold her, her voice quivered. “Please, I need you to go. I can’t handle this now.”
He could fight her anger, but he couldn’t fight her fragility. “All right.”
He waited until she had disappeared inside her building. Then he leaned back on the car and pulled out a cigarette. Later then, he promised himself. They’d talk. He stood where he was, waiting for his system to level. They’d talk, he assured himself again. But it was best to wait until they were both calmer and more reasonable.
Tossing away the cigarette, he climbed back into the limo. He hoped to God he could stop thinking of her long enough to sleep.
6
She wanted to pace. She wanted to walk up and down, pull at her hair and walk some more. She forced herself to sit quietly on the sofa and wait as Clarissa poured tea.
“I’m so glad you came by, dear. It’s so seldom you’re able to spend an afternoon with me.”
“Things are under control at the office. Abe’s covering for me.”
“Such a nice man. How’s his little grandson?”
“Spoiled rotten. Abe wants to buy him Dodger Stadium.”
“Grandparents are entitled to spoil the way parents are obliged to discipline.” She kept her eyes lowered, anxious not to show her own longings and apply pressure. “How’s your tea?”
“It’s…different.” Knowing the lukewarm compliment would satisfy Clarissa saved her from an outright lie. “What is it?”
“Rose hips. I find it very soothing in the afternoons. You seem to need a little soothing, Aurora.”
A.J. set down her cup and, giving in to the need for movement, rose. She’d known when she’d deliberately cleared her calendar that she would come to Clarissa. And she’d known that she would come for help, though she’d repeatedly told herself she didn’t need it.
“Momma.” A.J. sat on the sofa again as Clarissa sipped tea and waited patiently. “I think I’m in trouble.”
“You ask too much of yourself.” Clarissa reached out to touch her hand. “You always have.”
“What am I going to do?”
Clarissa sat back as she studied her daughter. She’d never heard that phrase from her before, and now that she had, she wanted to be certain to give the right answers. “You’re frightened.”
“Terrified.” She was up again, unable to sit. “It’s getting away from me. I’m losing the controls.”
“Aurora, it isn’t always necessary to hold on to them.”
“It is for me.” She looked back with a half smile. “You should understand.”
“I do. Of course I do.” But she’d wished so often that her daughter, her only child, would be at peace with herself. “You constantly defend yourself against being hurt because you were hurt once and decided it would never happen again. Aurora, are you in love with David?”
Clarissa would know he was at the core of it. Naturally she would know without a word being said. A.J. could accept that. “I might be if I don’t pull myself back now.”
“Would it be so bad to love someone?”
“David isn’t just someone. He’s too strong, too overwhelming. Besides…” She paused long enough to steady herself. “I thought I was in love once before.”
“You were young.” Clarissa came as close as she ever did to true anger. She set her cup in its saucer with a little snap. “Infatuation is a different matter. It demands more and gives less back than love.”
A.J. stood in the middle of the room. There was really no place to go. “Maybe this is just infatuation. Or lust.”
Clarissa lifted a brow and sipped tea calmly. “You’re the only one who can answer that. Somehow I don’t think you’d have cleared your calendar and come to see me in the middle of a workday if you were concerned about lust.”
Laughing, A.J. walked over to drop on the sofa beside her. “Oh, Momma, there’s no one like you. No one.”
“Things were never normal for you, were they?”
“No.” A.J. dropped her head on Clarissa’s shoulder. “They were better. You were better.”
“Aurora, your father loved me very much. He loved, and he accepted, without actually understanding. I can’t even comprehend what my life might have been like if I hadn’t given up the controls and loved him back.”
“He was special,” A.J. murmured. “Most men aren’t.”
Clarissa hesitated only a moment, then cleared her throat. “Alex accepts me, too.”
“Alex?” Uneasy, A.J. sat up again. There was no mistaking the blush of color in Clarissa’s cheeks. “Are you and Alex…” How did one put such a question to a mother? “Are you serious about Alex?”
“He asked me to marry him.”
“What?” Too stunned for reason, A.J. jerked back and gaped. “Marriage? You barely know him. You met only weeks ago. Momma, certainly you’re mature enough to realize something as important as marriage takes a great deal of thought.”
Clarissa beamed at her. “What an excellent mother you’ll make one day. I was
never able to lecture quite like that.”
“I don’t mean to lecture.” Mumbling, A.J. picked up her tea. “I just don’t want you to jump into something like this without giving it the proper thought.”
“You see, that’s just what I mean. I’m sure you got that from your father’s side. My family’s always been just the tiniest bit flighty.”
“Momma—”
“Do you remember when Alex and I were discussing palm reading for the documentary?”
“Of course.” The uneasiness increased, along with a sense of inevitability. “You felt something.”
“It was very strong and very clear. I admit it flustered me a bit to realize a man could be attracted to me after all these years. And I wasn’t aware until that moment that I could feel like that about anyone.”
“But you need time. I don’t doubt anything you feel, anything you see. You know that. But—”
“Darling, I’m fifty-six.” Clarissa shook her head, wondering how it had happened so quickly. “I’ve been content to live alone. I think perhaps I was meant to live alone for a certain amount of time. Now I want to share the rest of life. You’re twenty-eight and content and very capable of living alone. Still, you mustn’t be afraid to share your life.”
“It’s different.”
“No.” She took A.J.’s hands again. “Love, affection, needs. They’re really very much the same for everyone. If David is the right man for you, you’ll know it. But after knowing, you have to accept.”
“He may not accept me.” Her fingers curled tightly around her mother’s. “I have trouble accepting myself.”
“And that’s the only worry you’ve ever given me. Aurora, I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t look into tomorrow for you, as much as part of me wants to.”
“I’m not asking that. I’d never ask you that.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Look into your heart, Aurora. Stop calculating risks and just look.”
“I might see something I don’t want to.”
“Oh, you probably will.” With a little laugh, Clarissa settled back on the sofa with an arm around A.J. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I can tell you what I feel. David Brady is a very good man. He has his flaws, of course, but he is a good man. It’s been a pleasure for me to be able to work with him. As a matter of fact, when he called this morning, I was delighted.”
“Called?” Immediately alert, A.J. sat up straight. “David called you? Why?”
“Oh, a few ideas he’d had about the documentary.” She fussed with the little lace napkin in her lap. “He’s in Rolling Hills today. Well, not exactly in, but outside. Do you remember hearing about that old mansion no one ever seems able to live in for long? The one a few miles off the beach?”
“It’s supposed to be haunted,” A.J. muttered.
“Of course there are differing opinions on that. I think David made an excellent choice for his project, though, from what he told me about the background.”
“What do you have to do with that?”
“That? Oh, nothing at all. We just chatted about the house. I suppose he thought I’d be interested.”
“Oh.” Mollified, A.J. began to relax. “That’s all right then.”
“We did set up a few other things. I’ll be going into the studio—Wednesday,” she decided. “Yes, I’m sure it’s Wednesday of next week, to discuss spontaneous phenomena. And then, oh, sometime the following week, I’m to go to the Van Camps’. We’ll tape in Alice’s living room.”
“The Van Camps’.” She felt the heat rising. “He set all this up with you.”
Clarissa folded her hands. “Yes, indeed. Did I do something wrong?”
“Not you.” Fired up, she rose. “He knew better than to change things without clearing it with me first. You can’t trust anyone. Especially a producer.” Snatching up her purse, she strode to the door. “You don’t go anywhere on Wednesday to discuss any kind of phenomena until I see just what he has up his sleeve.” She caught herself and came back to give Clarissa a hug. “Don’t worry, I’ll straighten it out.”
“I’m counting on it.” Clarissa watched her daughter storm out of the house before she sat back, content. She’d done everything she could—set energy in motion. The rest was up to fate.
“Tell him we’ll reschedule. Better yet, have Abe meet with him.” A.J. shouted into her car phone as she came up behind a tractor-trailer.
“Abe has a three-thirty. I don’t think he can squeeze Montgomery in at four.”
“Damn.” Impatient, A.J. zoomed around the tractor-trailer. “Who’s free at four?”
“Just Barbara.”
While keeping an eye peeled for her exit, A.J. turned that over in her mind. “No, they’d never jell. Reschedule, Diane. Tell Montgomery…tell him there was an emergency. A medical emergency.”
“Check. There isn’t, is there?”
Her smile was set and nothing to laugh about. “There might be.”
“Sounds promising. How can I reach you?”
“You can’t. Leave anything important on the machine. I’ll call in and check.”
“You got it. Hey, good luck.”
“Thanks.” Teeth gritted, A.J. replaced the receiver.
He wasn’t going to get away with playing power games. A.J. knew all the rules to that one, and had made up plenty of her own. David Brady was in for it. A.J. reached for her map again. If she could ever find him.
When the first raindrop hit the windshield she started to swear. By the time she’d taken the wrong exit, made three wrong turns and found herself driving down a decrepit gravel road in a full-fledged spring storm, she was cursing fluently. Every one of them was aimed directly at David Brady’s head.
One look at the house through driving rain and thunderclouds proved why he’d chosen so well. Braking viciously, A.J. decided he’d arranged the storm for effect. When she swung out of the car and stepped in a puddle of mud that slopped over her ankle, it was the last straw.
He saw her through the front window. Surprise turned to annoyance quickly at the thought of another interruption on a day that had seen everything go wrong. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a week, his work was going to hell and he itched just looking at her. When he pulled open the front door, he was as ready as A.J. for an altercation.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Her hair was plastered to her face; her suit was soaked. She’d just ruined half a pair of Italian shoes. “I want to talk to you, Brady.”
“Fine. Call my office and set up an appointment. I’m working.”
“I want to talk to you now!” Lifting a hand to his chest, she gave him a hefty shove back against the door. “Just where do you come off making arrangements with one of my clients without clearing it with me? If you want Clarissa in the studio next week, then you deal with me. Understand?”
He took her damp hand by the wrist and removed it from his shirt. “I have Clarissa under contract for the duration of filming. I don’t have to clear anything with you.”
“You’d better read it again, Brady. Dates and times are set up through her representative.”
“Fine. I’ll send you a schedule. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
He pushed open the door, but she stepped in ahead of him. Two electricians inside the foyer fell silent and listened. “I’m not finished.”
“I am. Get lost, Fields, before I have you tossed off the set.”
“Watch your step, or my client might develop a chronic case of laryngitis.”
“Don’t threaten me, A.J.” He gripped her lapels with both hands. “I’ve had about all I’m taking from you. You want to talk, fine. Your office or mine, tomorrow.”
