The whole thing was just some bizarre physical attraction, Amanda told herself firmly. She and Brock Munroe were such total opposites that he fascinated her in a sort of dark subliminal way, and her only sane course of action was to avoid him altogether.
She certainly wasn’t the first woman to have been confused by a pair of shoulders, by some man’s finely molded lips and strong brown hands. But Amanda Walker was far too smart to let that kind of wayward sexual attraction spoil her whole life.
Amanda knew where she belonged. She knew what kind of life made her happy, and what kind of man she needed to be with, and she wasn’t about to make any disastrous mistakes.
“Edward,” she said abruptly, setting her fork down and gazing at the man across the table, “I’ve been thinking about…about us, and all the things you’re offering me.”
“Yes?” he said, his aquiline face suddenly cautious, his eyes guarded.
“And I think I’ve been acting a little silly since you got here, holding you at arm’s length the way I have. Don’t you?”
“I certainly do, Angel,” he said, relaxing and raising his glass to her in a silent toast. “I most certainly do.”
“Well, good,” Amanda went on recklessly. “Actually, you know, I was thinking that tonight we should—”
“Anything else?” the waiter asked, materializing suddenly beside their table and stacking plates on his tray with silent efficiency.
Edward leaned back and gave the young man an expansive grin, the muted overhead light glinting on his well-barbered auburn head.
“Wal, Ah think we jest may be celebratin’ somethin’ heah,” he said in a deliberate imitation of the waiter’s warm Texas drawl. “Do y’all think y’all could brang us anothah bottle of thet wine?”
The young man stared down at him in silence for a long uncomfortable moment, then gave a brief clipped nod and disappeared with his tray full of used plates.
“Angel, why did he look so disapproving?” Edward asked, genuinely hurt. “I thought my accent was impeccable.”
Amanda looked at him in amazement, overwhelmed by his thoughtless arrogance. “He knew you were making fun of him, Edward,” she said coldly. “Besides,” she added after a moment’s awkward silence, “You used ‘y’all’ incorrectly.”
“You mean there are grammatical rules?” Edward said with heavy irony, raising an elegant eyebrow. “Oh, do please enlighten me.”
“It’s plural,” Amanda said firmly, ignoring his sarcastic tone. “‘Y’all’ refers to more than one person. For instance, if you meet a group of people you can say, ‘How are y’all doing?’ But you can’t say it to just one person.”
“I see.” Edward paused, clearly on the verge of another jocular remark, but thought better of it when he saw Amanda’s expression. “Sorry, Angel,” he said contritely. “Correction accepted. I won’t make the same mistake again, I promise. And I’ll leave him a nice big tip to make up for my ignorance.”
Amanda was silent, watching as the waiter delivered and uncorked their second bottle of wine.
“Apology accepted?” Edward prompted when they were alone, pouring the sparkling liquid into her tall crystal goblet.
“Yes, Edward,” Amanda murmured. “And I’m sorry for being so sensitive. I didn’t mean to jump on you.”
“Sweetheart, you can jump on me any time you like,” Edward told her with a warm significant smile. “In fact, you were saying…?”
Amanda looked at him, feeling strangely shy and awkward, wondering what to say. She still felt a sharp irritation with Edward because of his gaffe with the waiter.
But more than anything, Amanda also yearned for an end to the confusion in her mind, a return to a safe and comfortable world where events moved in predictable fashion from one point to the next.
For Amanda that world was with Edward, and always had been.
She swallowed hard and tried to smile at him. “I thought you might move your things over to my place tonight,” she said softly. “I feel so lonely there, Edward.”
“It’s lonely in my hotel room, too, Angel. But I won’t be coming tonight,” he added, sipping casually at his wine.
“Why not?” Amanda gazed at him, stunned by this unexpected rejection.
Edward grinned and reached in his pocket for an envelope. “We’re going to Dallas tonight, Angel,” he told her. “Staying at the new convention center, attending the Southern Retailers’ fall fashion show tomorrow. I have front row seats for both of us.”
Amanda shook her head in confusion. “Both of us? At the Southern Retailers’ show? Edward, those tickets have been sold out for months.”
“Not if one knows the right people,” Edward told her calmly. “I would have told you earlier, but I just confirmed the tickets this afternoon. And we’re taking a local commuter flight that leaves at ten o’clock, so let’s hurry home and pack your overnight bag, Angel. By the way,” he added with a wolfish grin, “I hope you still have the pink silk negligee. That was always my personal favorite.”
“But, Edward…I can’t go to Dallas tonight.”
“Why not? You told me you had a free day tomorrow, didn’t you? It’s going to be fabulous, Angel. There’s a dealers’ preshowing tomorrow afternoon, then cocktails and dinner and the first of the designers later in the evening.”
“I know, but…” Amanda paused, biting her lip nervously. “Edward, the show is three days long. And I have a really heavy day on Thursday. I have to prepare for it tomorrow night. In fact, I’d have to come back right after the dealer showing.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Edward said calmly, handing his credit card to the waiter without taking his eyes from Amanda’s face. “You have to come and be available for all three days. This is an amazing opportunity, my dear. Contacts made at this show could be very, very valuable for us.”
“Edward, I have four appointments on Thursday. Two of them are brand-new clients, both referred by friends. I have to—”
“Amanda, my sweet, aren’t you forgetting something?” he murmured gently, reaching over and clasping her hand in both of his.
“What? What am I forgetting?”
“You just indicated that you’ve come to a decision about us, Angel. I gather you want to build a future with me. That means coming back to work with me in New York, and that means the end of this little business venture of yours. Doesn’t it?”
Amanda was silent, gazing at the handsome man across the table in tense silence.
“I have no doubt it’s been a valuable experience for you, and I truly have immense admiration for what you’ve managed to achieve,” Edward told her with evident sincerity. “But your talents are needed elsewhere, darling. Just leave a sign on your office door canceling those appointments, or make a few calls from Dallas if you prefer the personal touch. But don’t miss this opportunity.”
Amanda shook her head. “I can’t, Edward. It’s my business. I can’t just run off and dump clients like that.”
“So what do you propose to do?” he asked mildly. “Continue servicing these clients of yours from a New York office after you move?”
“I just…I need a little more time,” Amanda said. “If I’m going to close my business, I need time to do it properly.”
“How much time?”
“I don’t know the answer to that just yet,” Amanda said. “But certainly more than a few hours.”
“All right,” he said cheerfully. They were silent while Edward escorted her from the restaurant, helped her with her coat, handed her courteously into the rental car he was using.
“Are you angry with me?” Amanda ventured, glancing over at his fine profile as he drove.
“Angry? Of course not. Just disappointed, Angel. And very, very sorry we couldn’t get together tonight. It’s been a long time, you know,” Edward said with a brief smile. “Far too long.”
Amanda nodded miserably. “I know.”
She gazed out the window, brooding over how well Edward was apparently de
aling with his disappointment.
There was no way you could really hurt Edward, she told herself. No matter what you said or did to him, he always seemed to walk away unscathed and cheerful, absorbed in his next project, barely aware of what you’d done.
Amanda suddenly found herself wondering if she really had been the primary reason for Edward’s visit to Texas, or if he’d been planning all along to attend the Dallas show and she was just conveniently nearby.
But when he stopped in front of her apartment and turned to her with a meaningful smile, there was no doubting the sincerity in his gaze, or the naked sexual yearning when he touched her cheek and bent to kiss her. “God, my Angel,” he muttered huskily. “Dear God, you’re so lovely.”
Amanda shivered and drew away, feeling a sudden and irrational reluctance to have him kiss her. “Let’s not start something we don’t have time to finish, Edward,” she said lightly. “You have to hurry or you’ll miss your flight.”
Hurt and surprise flickered briefly in his eyes but his voice was calm when he answered. “You’re right, my love. I’ll call you later, shall I?”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Amanda said. “You can tell me all about the new lines,” she added wistfully. “I really wish I were going with you, Edward. You know I do. It’s just that…”
He nodded, cutting off her halting explanation, and got out to walk her into the lobby, then kissed her casually on the cheek and hurried back to his car.
Amanda stood by the paneled front doors watching him drive away, waving sadly into the darkness like an abandoned child. Finally she entered the elevator and got off listlessly at her floor, fitting the key into the lock and letting herself into an apartment that seemed unbearably lonely and cold in its stark graceful symmetry.
She walked across the kitchen and paused, looking around unhappily, torn by a host of conflicting emotions. With sudden painful intensity Amanda contrasted her home with the cluttered warmth of Brock’s.
She stood gazing fixedly at the telephone, thinking about the empty day that stretched ahead of her tomorrow. Finally she crossed the room, flipped through the telephone book and dialed his number, then stood waiting tensely as the phone rang, fighting herself to keep from hanging up.
She heard Brock’s warm deep voice, almost drowned out by a noisy storm of barking.
“My goodness,” Amanda said, laughing, feeling better almost immediately. “Is that Alvin? What on earth is wrong with him?”
“He was hiding in the broom closet, eating my baseball glove. I just caught him and took it away.”
“Do you play baseball?” Amanda said, her heart still singing with a kind of absurd happiness that she couldn’t begin to understand.
“Just about the best third-base man in the Claro County men’s fastball league.”
“I see. That’s very impressive,” Amanda said solemnly.
“Don’t make fun, girl. That’s a very tough league.”
“I’m sure it is. Brock…”
“Yeah?”
“I seem to have a free day tomorrow, after all, and I don’t really feel like staying in the city. Do you think it would be all right if I came out and looked around your house a little more?”
“All right?” he asked in disbelief. “That’d be great, Amanda. Just wonderful.”
“Good,” she said shyly, touched by the unmistakable happiness in his voice. “I’d like to bring some drafting paper and do some sketches, floor plans of kitchen arrangements, that sort of thing, if you don’t mind?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d like more. I sure do need the help, Amanda. And I’ll keep that promise I made.”
“Good. In the morning, then? Is ten o’clock all right with you?”
“Sure. Alvin knows it’s you on the phone,” Brock reported, his voice warm with laughter. “He’s lying here on his back, licking the cord.”
Amanda laughed and hung up, hurrying into her bedroom, shrugging out of her coat as she ran. Her face was alight with happiness, and she was humming as she turned back the covers on her bed, then went into the kitchen to make herself a mug of hot chocolate.
“YOU KNOW, I don’t think I’ve ever tasted beef stew this delicious,” Amanda said cheerfully a few days later, putting her granny glasses back on and frowning at the kitchen floor plan she was sketching onto graph paper. “Brock, do you think we could find room for a pantry here in the corner if we cut down the size of the cabinet by the fridge?”
Brock wiped his hands on a red gingham towel and moved over to look down at her sketch. “Sure,” he said after a moment’s thoughtful consideration. “That’s a real good idea, Amanda. I could even build one of those round things in it, you know, the things that turn?” He whirled his hand in the air.
Amanda smiled, setting down her ruler and spooning up the last of the thick dark gravy. “A lazy Susan,” she told him.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Brock grinned at her. “So you like my stew?”
“It’s wonderful. I’m so full I can hardly move.”
“You and Alvin,” Brock said, indicating the lump who lounged in sated bliss at Amanda’s feet. Alvin’s round belly protruded alarmingly, his eyes were half-closed and his ears twitched with drowsy contentment.
Amanda smiled up at Brock over her gold-framed glasses, then bent to pat the sleepy dog. “Alvin and I just happen to enjoy our meals,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah,” Brock said with a grin, lifting plates from the table and carrying them to the sink. “It’ll sure be nice to have a built-in dishwasher,” he said wistfully. “I can hardly wait. I’m buying the lumber this week and starting those cabinets right away.”
“When will you be done?” Amanda felt a sudden chill.
Brock frowned. “Well, it’s not a real busy time right now. The calves are sold, the bulls are in and the feeder stock is still out on grass, so I should be able to work pretty steady. It’s awful slow work, making cabinets. But I think I can probably have it all done, even the windows, by the end of next month.”
Amanda toyed with her pencil and drew a few more lines of shading into the walls on her blueprint. “I wonder if I’ll still be here,” she said. “I’d love to see how it turns out.”
He paused by the sink and looked at her sharply. “Are you going away, Amanda?”
She nodded, removing her glasses and looking directly at him. “I’m going back to New York. Edward’s offered me the most wonderful job, and I think I’m going to accept.”
“What about your business?”
Amanda shrugged and gripped her pencil in nervous fingers. “It’s been so hard, trying to get this business going. I’m really getting tired of it. And it’s so…so scary all the time. You know what I mean?”
“Life is scary, Amanda,” Brock said quietly, running hot water over the dishes stacked in the sink.
“I thought your business was picking up lately,” he added, his voice casual.
“It is. But it’s still so insecure, and this job of Edward’s is just terrific. I’d be traveling, seeing the world, meeting exciting famous people, having all kinds of responsibility….”
“And living with him again?” Brock asked in the same offhand tone.
“I lived with him for four years,” Amanda said calmly. “He’s familiar to me, Brock. We know each other well, and he feels so…safe.”
“Well, safety is important, I guess. Especially nowadays. I think I’ll just leave these dishes to soak,” Brock added abruptly. “I have to drive out and start the pump on the windmill, Amanda. Want to ride along?”
“Is it far?”
“Just a mile or so up the pasture,” Brock said.
“All right. Is Alvin coming?”
At the mention of his name, Alvin lifted his head and opened one eye, then sighed and dropped his muzzle heavily back onto the rug.
“I think Alvin needs to spend a little more time sleeping off his lunch,” Brock said with an attempt at a smil
e. “Come on, Amanda. You probably won’t need your jacket. The sun’s real warm today.”
Amanda followed him outside and climbed into the big truck, sniffing pleasurably at the mingled scents of hay, sagebrush and damp earth that drifted in through the open window.
“I can’t believe how quickly everything dried up after that heavy rain,” she said, gazing out at the rolling autumn fields as they bumped along a pasture track leading up a hillside covered with tangled mesquite.
“It doesn’t take long. This limestone’s so porous. Seems like my whole ranch is just one big sponge, sucking up the rain as soon as it falls.”
“It’s lovely,” Amanda said. “Do you have hired hands, Brock?” she added, looking over at him curiously. “Anybody who works for you?”
“Not this time of year. I usually hire somebody in the spring when things get real busy. Of course, when I follow through on a few more of my plans, enlarge and diversify my operation, I’m definitely going to need full-time help. Look at the view, Amanda,” he added. “I like to come up here, just to look around.”
Amanda leaned forward, peering at the vista beyond them—a sea of rolling green hills shading to deep blue, then to misty violet, finally lost in the shrouded distant horizon. “Oh, Brock,” she breathed in wonder, “look how far you can see!”
“Pretty, isn’t it?” he said briefly, stopping the truck on the hilltop and getting out to open her door. “The bulls are down by the windmill,” he added, “and that big Brangus can be a mite feisty when he feels like it. I think I’ll just leave you up here, and walk down to start the pump.”
“Will you…will you be all right?” she asked anxiously, peering down at the largest of the half dozen bulls in the field, a massive black animal who bellowed and pawed ominously near the fence enclosing the windmill.
“Sure,” Brock said. “Don’t worry, girl, I raised that ol’ boy from a baby. He knows better than to mess with me.”
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