"Want to see all of me?" he asked quietly. "I don't mind." And he dropped the towel.
He was beautiful. She'd never seen a sculpture as perfect as he was, and her eyes told him so.
"You're just as devastating to me, Tabby," he replied. He bent down and pulled the sheet away, revealing the body he'd possessed so thoroughly. He loved looking at her. She was every dream he'd ever dreamed.
As he looked, his body reacted. He chuckled ruefully at the instant effect she had on him, and she blushed.
"I suppose you're on the verge of being the walking wounded this morning?" he asked with resignation.
She blushed more. "If you mean, am I sore... Yes."
He nodded. "That's what I meant, little one." He sighed. "Just as well, I suppose. Last night I was able to protect you, but I have nothing but my willpower this morning. At least we had last night.
I didn't want to leave without showing you what it should have been like that day in the park."
“Well, you did," she said, sitting up, tugging the sheet around her as the shame came back again, harder. "You showed me very graphically. Thank you for the lesson."
He retrieved his towel and wrapped it around his lean hips, taking longer than he needed to as he tried to manage the right words. "It wasn't a lesson. It was an apology."
"You're very expert," she said lightly. “Maybe one day I'll be able to appreciate that properly."
"You're unworldly," he replied, frowning. "But you'll learn about the real world, outside that shell you've been living in. It's not such a bad world, Tabby. Men and women make love all the time without guilt or consequences..."
She looked at him, and he colored. "I have to go now. I have classes to teach."
He shouldn't feel ashamed, he told himself. He had no reason to feel that way! He went back into the bathroom and slammed the door. When he came out again, freshly shaven, Tabby was back in her silk suit and her hair was in its bun. Except for makeup, she looked just as she had before. Almost. There was a new sadness in her eyes, a new knowledge, a shamed lack of innocence.
"Damn it, you wanted me!" he raged. "You wanted me!"
She turned and looked at him, unblinking. "I loved you," she said simply. "I don't think I'm telling you anything you didn't already know. I wanted you because of the way I feel about you. If you loved me back, I don't think I could be ashamed of what we did. But you don't," she said, almost accusingly. "You need me, physically, but I'm just another conquest to you, another casual lover. That's what makes it so...sordid."
He was lost for words. Actually lost for them. Tabby had been part of his life forever. Now he was likely to lose her, because he'd precipitated a relationship neither of them was ready for. He might have wished it undone, but his body throbbed with feverish ecstasy at the delight hers had given him even now. He ached to have her again, and again, and again...
If he'd ever wondered before, he knew now that Tabby loved him. It had felt like love, when she wrapped herself around him and gave him such pleasure that he'd all but lost consciousness from it. Love. A child. Perhaps a son. A little boy. His eyes kindled as he considered for the first time in his life the possibility of creation that day in the park.
Tabby didn't see the smile, much less guess what he was thinking. She went toward the closed bedroom door and opened it. She had to go home in broad daylight and the whole neighborhood would probably see her. But it didn't seem to matter anymore if her reputation was ruined. She didn't deserve to have one anyway, having behaved with the abandon of a loose woman. She was Nick's lover now, not the prim and upright young lady she'd been before he came back to Washington.
"Tabby, don't go yet," he said. "I want to talk."
"Well, I don't," she said, and she didn't look back. She was breaking up inside, but she wasn't going to let him know that. She loved him, but he felt no such emotion for her. It was best not to rake over the ashes.
He cursed roundly and tried to go after her, but she was in her house and gone. He slammed back into his house.
He'd wanted to explain his changing feelings to Tabby, but she wasn't in any mood to listen to him. He'd only planned to kiss her a little, make light love to her. But, just like the last time, he'd lost control completely the moment he touched her. He smiled ruefully at his own vulnerability, and reflected that if Tabby had had any real experience of men, she'd have known that he was as helpless as she was. A man didn't lose control with a woman unless there were powerful emotions at work. But Tabby didn't know that. And she wouldn't stand still long enough to let him tell her.
Well, he'd start working on her. Now that he knew he was capable of commitment, he had to convince her that his playboy days were behind him. At least, he'd cleared her name. That was going to take some of the pressure off her and make her more rational.
After taking a cab to work Tabby lectured her class on the techniques of uncovering a midden—a layer of cultural artifacts—touching on new legislation that required respect for human remains and their reinterment.
"This is a good thing,” she commented as she sat on the edge of her desk, watching her students. “For too long, certain members of our profession have paid too little attention to the human dignity we owe those who came before us. Bones have been pushed into boxes or into drawers at museums and universities with no respect for the people they once were. This is changing, and it should."
"I certainly wouldn't want anyone to dig up my great-grandmother and keep her bones in a box at a museum," one student remarked.
"Nor would I," Tabby replied.
Class let out and Tabby had a lonely lunch at the canteen until Daniel came up, rubbing his hands together and sat down beside her with a cup of coffee.
"I've just had a telephone call from the publisher I sent that proposal to," he told her. "They're interested!"
She brightened. "Daniel, that's wonderful!"
"Suppose I come over tonight and we work up the outline for the last three chapters?"
She hesitated because all day she'd felt guilty that she hadn't let Nick talk to her when he'd wanted to. She felt weak and disgusted with herself for the ease of her surrender, but he hadn't acted as if it were some casual interlude. He'd been...different. Perhaps there was a reason for it, but she hadn't let him speak. She wanted to. She had to know if there was any possibility of a future for the two of them.
On the other hand, it wouldn't do to sit home all by herself and wait for him to come around.
"All right," she told Daniel. "I'll look for you around five. I'll make a light supper for us."
"Just like old times," he said, smiling. "Fine, darling."
She finished her day's work, feeling so good as members of the faculty congratulated her on being cleared. So did Dr. Flannery, but he looked distinctly uncomfortable.
"They're going to discontinue my program," he said miserably. "And Pal is going back to the zoo. I suppose I'll do as well studying iguanas, though," he said, brightening. "They're delivering a lovely five-foot specimen next week!"
Iguanas, she recalled, looked like prehistoric reptiles. Five feet? "Do they bite?" she asked nervously.
"They're vegetarians, Dr. Harvey," he said, grinning. "Besides—" he leaned close, looking around them "—he won't be able to pick locks!"
He laughed, and so did she.
Late that afternoon, she took a perfect quiche out of the oven and put it and the green salad she'd made on the table while Daniel poured coffee. They had a quiet meal, like old times, and then sprawled in the living room to work on the manuscript. Daniel took off his jacket and tie and shoes, as he usually did, and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. Tabby, in yellow shorts and a tank top, with her hair down, looked uncommonly lovely.
He watched her for a long moment, and smiled. "You know, you're very lovely. Just lately, you're...I don't quite know how to put it... you're much more feminine."
Probably because of what Nick had taught her, she thought sadly, and colored a little. She wa
s a woman now, not a nervous spinster. Nick hadn't called, hadn't come over. He was avoiding her, she reckoned, probably afraid because she might read more into last night than he wanted her to. It was just like old times.
"You look lovely," Daniel was saying, his eyes on her.
"Thank you, Daniel."
"Are you sure you don't want to get engaged again?" he murmured as he eased her onto her back and loomed over her. "It would be no hardship at all to marry you. Tabitha, you're lovely...!"
He bent and kissed her, very gently. She smiled and reached up to his shoulders to push him away.
But that wasn't how it looked to the angry man who'd just opened the front door without knocking, incensed to find Daniel's car in Tabby's driveway when he'd come back from visiting his friend at FBI headquarters.
Tabby and Daniel heard the door open at the same time and looked toward it.
Nick was almost vibrating with fury. His dark eyes flashed, his deep tan reddened as he glared at the two on the floor. His big, lean hand clenched on the doorknob until the knuckles went white.
"You vicious tease!" he accused Tabby. "Is that all it meant to you? I suppose the engagement is back on again?"
Daniel didn't understand the accusation, but Tabby did. She sat up, flushing. "Nick..."
"Well, don't mind me," he said coldly. "You know where I stand. I've never made any secret of the fact that forever after isn't my style."
She knew, but she'd hoped. Her eyes narrowed with sadness. "Yes, I know, Nick," she said quietly.
Her reasonable tone made him even more furious. The fact that dear Daniel was rumpled and had lipstick on his mouth sent him right through the roof. "It was fun," he told Tabby. "But a little too tame for my taste. Maybe Dr. Myers here is more your cup of tea. I wish you both all the best."
"What are you implying?" Daniel asked, ruffled, as he got to his feet.
"What do you think?" he asked, glaring at Tabby, who was scrambling to her feet. "I thought you weren't the kind of woman to go from one man to another in two days. What a chump I was!"
"Nick, I didn't!" she cried, astonished at the sudden realization that he was jealous. He thought she was two-timing him. Perhaps the hurtful things he was saying arose out of jealousy in the first place, and he...cared! "Listen to me...!"
"I've heard more than enough," he told her implacably. "Goodbye, Tabby."
He went back out, slamming the door. Tabby, horrified that she might have made the biggest mistake of her life, ran after him. She opened the door and sprinted across the lawn that separated her house from his.
"Nick, wait!" she called in exasperation.
"Leave me alone," he growled over his shoulder.
People mowing lawns stopped and watched the sight of their very correct neighbor, Dr. Harvey, apparently chasing a man, and dressed in a very skimpy outfit, too. The men stared admiringly at her long, tanned legs. She'd never before ventured off her patio in shorts.
"Nick, I love you!" she cried.
"No, you don't. You love that stuffed shirt!" he raged. "You only used me for sex!"
She gasped as she realized that his deep voice was carrying, and that her grinning neighbors were having a field day. She blushed furiously.
"How dare you!" she yelled at him. "How dare you say things like that to me in public!"
He whirled at his front door, his eyes blazing. "Go back to your egghead over there and see if he can make you scream your head off the way I did in bed!"
She covered her face with her hands. "I'll never forgive you!"
Nick looked around at the neighborhood audience, cold mockery in the smile that flared on his handsome face. "Ruined your spotless reputation, have I?" he asked coldly. "Well, that's what you get for seducing innocent men and then dropping them when someone else comes along!"
"I didn't seduce you!"
"Fudge." He opened his door.
"Will you please listen!" she burst out.
"Sure. Like you listened to me last night." He slammed the door in her face.
She hesitated for a minute. Then she went up to the door and knocked and knocked. He ignored her. She called. He still ignored her. She called again and knocked until her knuckles were raw and her voice was hoarse. Finally she kicked it, with no response. Then she went to the window, to try to get his attention. He pulled the curtains together with a furious jerk.
"Damn you, Nick!" she yelled, tears of angry frustration in her eyes. "I wouldn't marry you if you had buckets of money and covered me in precious jewels!"
The door opened. "I don't marry fickle women," he told her coldly. "You two-timing Jezebel!"
"Look who's talking!" she shouted. "The playboy of the western world!"
"At least I was reformed! You're just getting started!" He glared toward a shocked Daniel, who was standing in the grass getting an earful. "Go marry your writing collaborator. I don't want you!"
"You did!" she threw back.
"Only for one night," he said with cold pleasure when she flushed. "It was nice, but I've had better. And I will again. Go home!"
He slammed the door for the second time. Tabby cursed. She never had in her life, but she cursed steadily at the top of her lungs, while all around her, male neighbors chuckled and began to form groups. Wives came out of their kitchens to see what all the fuss was about. Tabby, who'd always been so correct and proper and self-conscious, didn't give a damn if the whole world heard her. She told Nick what she thought of him, called him every foul name she'd ever heard in English and two foreign languages. Finally, when she was weak from it all, she stormed back to her own house, past Daniel, and into the house.
"Uh, Tabby, it might be a good idea if we didn't work on the book tonight."
She looked at Daniel. "Yes," she said, realizing belatedly that he was actually intimidated by her unfettered temper. Amazing. He seemed so self-possessed, but feminine rage unmanned him. It hadn't fazed Nick. She grimaced. "Sorry about that."
He put on his shoes and his tie and jacket with a rueful smile. “Well, no need asking how you feel about Mr. Reed anymore. I wish you luck, Tabby. It would be a pity to waste that kind of emotion on me."
"I'm sorry," she said again, helplessly.
He kissed her forehead gently. "I'll enjoy working on the book with you," he said. He actually laughed. "And I thought you were cold. My, my."
She flushed. "Good night, Daniel."
"Good night, Tabby. I'll phone you tomorrow."
She nodded, watching him go without any real misgivings. She glared at Nick's house. The neighbors were still glancing her way. No more floor show today, folks, she thought, closing the door. Incredible, she mused, that she felt no shame or regret for her rage outside. Nick had certainly changed her, and not necessarily for the better. Being a scarlet woman was invigorating, if nothing else.
The guilt would go eventually, she supposed. Meanwhile, she punched in Nick's number several times over the course of the evening. He wouldn't pick up the receiver. Finally she slammed it down and went to bed. All right, if that was how he wanted it. He could sulk all night. Tomorrow, she'd try again. If he cared about her that much, that he lost every bit of his self-control in temper, then there was definitely hope for them. Even if he was too stubborn to admit it just yet. She was smiling to herself when she went to bed, and she dreamed of babies and Nick reading bedtime stories to them.
Chapter Nine
Tabby tried once more the next morning to get Nick on the telephone or to the door, but he was being stubborn again. With a reluctant sigh, she went to school, taught her classes and was later called to the dean's office early to hear his apology for placing her under suspension.
"You always believed that I was innocent," she replied with a warm smile. “Even though I was the most likely suspect. You only did what you had to do to protect the school."
"There were other suspects, you know," he said surprisingly. "I have to admit that two of the faculty were high on my list, but I'm glad to find that our
thief was small and hairy!"
"So am I!" Tabby agreed. "I hope I still have a job...?"
"Don't be absurd," he said, smiling at her. He rose and shook her hand. "You're one of the best educators we've ever employed. I would have been devastated to lose you."
It was a politically correct thing to say, but she knew that he meant it. She smiled back glowingly. "I would have been very sad to leave here. I learned just how much my work meant to me during all this."
“It usually takes a crisis to make us appreciate the value of things we sometimes take for granted," he agreed.
Yes, she thought, remembering Nick's odd behavior. Why hadn't she realized that his loss of control with her, both times, could have had its roots in deep emotion? Her naivete had kept her from seeing his involvement until it was almost too late. But there was still hope, if she could reach him and make him talk to her. She could have kicked herself for walking away that night he'd wanted to talk.
She'd planned to corner him that night. But when she got home, the house next door was closed up and the rental car was gone. Minutes after she'd fixed herself a sandwich and a cup of coffee, a power company truck arrived to cut off the electricity. She knew then that Nick had gone. Without another word, without a real goodbye, even without a note, he'd faded away and she was alone again. She'd left it too late. He'd closed the door and no matter if she tried to phone him or write to him in Houston, she knew it would do no good. It was over. He'd told her so without a single word.
She was too depressed to do much after that. She ate her meager fare and sat around trying to grade test papers, but eventually she went to bed and cried herself to sleep. Nick had decided that he didn't want her. He'd seduced her and had his fill, and she'd given in and let him. Now he was on his way back to Houston, to his job and his friends. Tabby had been relegated to the faceless crowd of his ex-lovers, just like all the rest.
She stopped thinking about it because she couldn't bear it. But as the days went by, her face began to show the ravages of her nights. She grew wan and pale, and listless. Her enthusiasm for her job dimmed. She went through the motions of living without really caring whether she did or not.
Books By Diana Palmer Page 122
