Read Between the Lines

by Erica Spindler

  “I wish I’d gotten it.”

  “Still hate parties?” He smiled as he toyed with the tips of her hair that brushed her nape.

  “Only ones where I don’t know anybody. Generally, I avoid them.”

  Michael laughed and moved closer. “Just pretend everybody is naked,” he whispered. “That’s what I do.”

  His breath was warm against her ear and a tingle raced up her spine. “You’re insane.”

  “Another quality genetic characteristic.”

  Katherine looked up at him, a small frown forming between her brows. “We sociologists believe that who we are has more to do with environment and experiences than genes. I like the idea of being in control, being able to shape myself and my destiny. The idea of personality being determined at birth—of being a pawn of sorts—has always seemed defeatist and depressing to me.”

  Michael smiled and ran his index finger along the tiny furrow in her brow, smoothing it. “Whatever it is, we remain true to form. Even in my arms you’re the serious little scientist.”

  She answered his smile with one of her own. “And you’re being an irreverent scoundrel.”

  “Of course.” He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss on her knuckles. “Do you remember the frat party I dragged you to where everyone got smashed and the police came? You were furious.”

  She laughed up at him. “You dragged me to hundreds of those! I never could convince you that I was happier at home, studying.”

  Still holding her hand to his lips, Michael met her eyes. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you at home alone on a Saturday night. I worried about you.”

  A lump formed in her throat; she tried to swallow past it. If she had been completely out of her mind, she might have imagined that was tenderness she saw in his eyes. If she’d been a total masochist, she would have called it love. She was neither. “You only had to worry about me when I was with you. You got me into jams I couldn’t have even imagined on my own.”

  “I was a very bad influence, wasn’t I?” Michael pulled her even closer and brushed his lips across the top of her head. Her scent was overpowering despite its subtlety, and he drew the perfume in, letting it swamp his senses, growing drunk on its delicacy. “I’m not proud of my past, Katie. I don’t like to think about it.”

  Katherine rubbed her chin lightly against his throat. She caught the tang of spicy soap, enjoyed the rasp of his rough skin against her smooth one. “It doesn’t matter what you were, it’s what you’ve become that’s important. Surely you know that.”

  Michael smiled against her hair. Always optimistic, always his champion. He gathered her to him. She couldn’t know that people never changed, that they only tempered or modified their behavior. Nor could she realize that the past could hound a person like a trained dog. There was nothing in her experience to teach that lesson. “You saw me at my worst—yet you still believed in me. How could any woman be so perfect?” He smiled. “‘Saint Katie’—I think I like the sound of that.”

  She didn’t. It brought to mind virginal white and big, lonely beds. It brought to mind the kind of woman Michael would never choose. “I think all that starch in the collar would start to itch.”

  Michael laughed. “Oh, Katie...” His voice trailed off as he gazed at her upturned face. Her lashes were thick and coal black, her irises the perfect blue-violet of a periwinkle flower, and her mouth, full and crimson, seemed to beg for his. He thought of soft, fuzzy fabric and smooth, white skin.

  Reminding himself of what he should do, he slowed his steps until they only swayed to the music’s long, liquid notes. “The band’s taking a break,” he whispered against her ear, slowing until they moved not at all, just stood at the center of the dance floor, holding each other. “What would you like to do now?”

  What she would like to do had her tingling all over. What she should do wasn’t even in the running. Katherine looked up at him, smiled and suggested a glass of punch.

  For the rest of the night, Michael didn’t stray from her side. They danced, laughed and shared too much of the fruity punch; they whispered in each other’s ears like schoolchildren... or lovers.

  It was well past midnight by the time she and Michael said their final goodbyes to Sam and Sarah, then stepped out into the clear, black night.

  “How about a walk?” Michael asked, putting an arm around her. “It’s a pretty night.”

  “Yes.” Katherine nestled against him. “I can’t believe it, but I’m not tired.”

  Michael laughed. “It’s the punch.”

  It wasn’t, but Katherine didn’t bother to correct him. For a time they walked along the wooden walkways, past the storefronts fashioned to look like the main street of Dodge City or some other frontier town. Through the tall pines, the sky was sprinkled with stars, and each time they exhaled, their breath made a frosty pillow on the night air.

  Michael stopped outside a sweet shop designed like a log cabin. “How about an ice cream cone?”

  “Michael, it’s below freezing out here!”

  “I bet they have Rocky Road. You could have a double scoop.”

  He’d remembered her favorite. Pleased, Katherine peeked through the window. “They’re closed.”

  “There are ways around that.” When she arched her eyebrows dubiously, he pulled a credit card out of his wallet and waved it in front of her. “We could leave money.”

  Katherine thought of how he’d jimmied her dorm room door all those years ago and her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t?”

  “How bad do you want ice cream?”

  She leaned against him and laughed. “Not badly enough to send you back to a life of crime. I’d never forgive myself. Come on.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward a covered bridge that spanned a trickle of a stream, now frozen. Once underneath, she smiled up at him. “Safe from temptation.”

  “Hardly,” Michael murmured almost to himself, cupping her face in his hands. “Your teeth are chattering.”

  Her breath mingled with his. “Your nose is red.”

  “That’s because it’s frozen.” He leaned forward and rubbed the tip of his against hers, Eskimo style. “I think it’s beginning to thaw.”

  “Good.” She placed her gloved hands against the lapels of his camel hair coat. “We wouldn’t want it to fall off.”

  “Certainly not.” He lowered his eyes to her lips. “Now all we have to do is get your teeth to stop chattering.”

  She leaned toward him, just a fraction. “How do you propose we do that?”

  “Like this.” He lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips were cold, but only for a moment. They warmed, then parted. She tasted of the fruity punch; she held nothing back. Michael groaned as her tongue darted out to catch his, as she sighed and sagged against him. Her body fit perfectly to his and even through the layers of outer garments he could feel the rapid beat of her heart and the way her nipples had tightened with excitement. Or was that his imagination? When it came to Katie, he realized, reality and fantasy melded until he couldn’t discern one from the other.

  Lifting his head, he gazed at her upturned face. Her eyes were still tightly closed and she was smiling. It was the smile that brought him back to earth. It was soft and sweet and too trusting. Trust. Michael trailed a finger over her right eyebrow and down the curve of her cheek. The air was so cold, yet her skin was so warm. He thought of the past, of history, and consequently, of the future. Futility left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Your teeth stopped chattering,” he murmured, his voice sounding thick even to his own ears.

  “Mmm...” She came back to reality slowly, easing into it with no will of her own. Her lids fluttered up. “I’m not cold anymore.”

  Her cheeks were pink from the wind, her eyes dark with arousal. She looked impossibly beautiful. “We should go,” he said roughly, setting her away from him.

  Katherine moved back to him, sliding her hands up his chest to his shoulders. “I’d rather stay.”

  “No, Katie.�
�� He caught her hands quickly, before he could change his mind. “Enough. We played our little roles tonight, we had a good time. Let’s stop it here.”

  His words hit her like a battering ram. Katherine reeled away from him, hurt. And in that split second between the words registering and being absorbed, hurt transformed to anger, anger to fury. She turned to him in challenge—she would be damned if she would let him treat her like a yo-yo. “Why, Michael?” With a quick, jerky motion, she pushed the hair away from her face. “You were right, we were having a good time. Why stop now?”

  “Because—” he stuffed his hands into his coat pockets “—I don’t have anything to give you.”

  She felt as if he’d slapped her; she fought the urge to slap him back. “You keep talking about what you have to give me—has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t want anything? That maybe what we had the other night was enough?”

  “No.” He reached out to touch her, then dropped his hand. “You’re a woman who needs commitments, promises. We both know that.”

  “Do we?” She spun away from him, crossing to the opposite railing. She stared down at the frozen stream for a moment, then looked back at him. “Well, here’s a news flash, Michael Tardo, all I want from you is a good time. Some fun, a few laughs—that’s enough. But if you can’t deal with that, then I guess you don’t have anything to give me.”

  Her words twisted in his gut. He ignored the sensation. “You don’t mean that, Katie. It sounds good, but it’s not you.”

  She made a strangled sound of frustration. “When are you going to get it, Michael? I’m not your dorky little friend anymore. I’m not shy and naive and gullible. I don’t need to be protected. I’m not even a virgin—but then you should know that.”

  The brush of flannel against his flesh... Katie beneath him, his mouth muffling her cry of pain... Michael caught his breath at the image. “The other night... I didn’t think... you weren’t—”

  “A virgin?” she interrupted, lifting her chin, torn between flinging the truth at him and saving her pride. “Why would it matter? I’m thirty years old, Michael, hardly jailbait.”

  His jaw tightened. “It would matter.”

  Pride won. “No. The other night wasn’t the first time.”

  He looked so relieved it would have been comical had it not hurt so much. Katherine dragged her gloved hands through her hair. “You were right, we’ve both had enough. Enough of each other’s company, enough of this mangled excuse for a friendship.” She turned and started in the direction of the parking lot. “I’m going home.”

  Before she’d gone two steps he caught her elbow and spun her around. “Don’t do this, Katie.”

  She tossed her head back. “Don’t do what?”

  “We’re friends.”

  “Are we?” She laughed without humor. “Years ago we were friends. We were young and responsible for nothing but figuring out how to fill our days. We’ve both grown up, Michael. Eight years have brought a lot of changes. We don’t need each other anymore, not the way we used to.”

  “Dammit, Katie.”

  Before she realized what he meant to do, he jerked her against his chest and pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was quick and hard; there seemed to be an edge of despair in it, the shadow of some savage need to possess. Katherine gasped; her head fell back.

  He broke the contact but his mouth still hovered only a whisper from hers. She gazed up at him, mesmerized by his dark, stormy eyes, unable to pull away even if she had wanted to. Her lips tingled; they felt bruised. She wanted more, much more. Her heart beat heavily, maddeningly, against the wall of her chest as he brought his lips to hers once more. The second meeting was as domineering, as desperate as the first; when Michael lifted his mouth, they were both panting.

  He tightened his fingers, then dropped his hands. “I still think of you as my friend, Katie.”

  Katherine stared at him in shock. To follow those almost violent kisses with that statement was absurd. Angry color flew to her cheeks. “Why can’t you admit that what we’ve been feeling has nothing to do with friendship and everything to do with passion? Why won’t you admit you want me?” She drew in a quick, steadying breath; the cold air stung the back of her throat. “Are you afraid that maybe you’ll realize you do have something to give?”

  Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and started for the car. She had almost reached it when his voice stopped her.

  “Wanting you has never been in question, Katie. I do.”

  His words sounded lost against the cold, black night, and she stopped and turned back toward him. Half of his face was bathed in the light from a floodlamp, the other was drenched in darkness. The combination of shadow and form made his expression seem hard, even grim. He looked like a man with too many ghosts. She felt a twinge but pushed it away. “Then what is in question, Michael?”

  He started for her, his feet crunching against the dusting of salt and sand on the parking lot. “Nothing. You made your feelings, your needs, clear. So did I.”

  She realized her hands were trembling and shoved them into her pockets. “What are you suggesting?”

  He stopped in front of her. Reaching out, he trailed a finger down her cheek. “Sex,” he said, almost without intonation. “Physical gratification, a few laughs between consenting adults. More than a one-night stand but less than an affair. Is that what you want, Katie? You want to have a fling? No strings, no promises, no future?”

  Tears plucked at the back of her eyelids. He was offering her only a small portion of what she wanted, and even though she’d professed to want nothing more, she could back down and he wouldn’t ask any questions. But wasn’t that what she’d always done when it came to Michael? Wasn’t that what had left her alone and wondering to begin with? She would take a shot. Either way she had nothing to lose. “Two consenting adults. No strings, no promises.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Without another word, Michael helped her into the car and they headed home.

  Chapter 9

  The drive home seemed to pass at the speed of light and at the same time, drag interminably. Katherine realized her palms were sweating as she followed Michael into the dark condominium. They hadn’t said a dozen words since leaving the parking lot, and she felt awkward and uncertain. What happened next? She cleared her throat. “Well...”

  Michael locked the door and turned to her. He cocked his head. “Well.”

  She cleared her throat again. “I guess I’ll turn in. I’m pretty tired.”

  “Pretty tired?” His gaze drifted slowly over her. “How tired is that?”

  Her knees were shaking and Katherine shifted from one foot to the other. Then he started toward her, and she thought they might buckle. “Really tired,” she said quickly.

  “That’s too bad.” He stopped in front of her.

  “Yes, well I—” Without warning, he gathered her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was slow, deep and shattering; when he lifted his head her limbs were shaking for a different reason.

  “I’ll say good-night then.” He dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “Sleep tight, Katie.”

  Shocked, she watched him disappear down the hall. That was it? One kiss and ‘good night’? He wasn’t even going to try... he didn’t want... Her cheeks grew hot as she realized she wanted him very much, wanted him so badly her whole body tingled with it.

  Annoyed with herself and him, she started for her own bedroom. Once inside, she slipped out of her clothes and into her gown. Her feet were cold, and she pulled on a pair of sweat socks.

  Katherine stared at her closed bedroom door, willing it to open, for Michael to come for her. As the minutes ticked by, her shoulders drooped. This was ridiculous. She wanted him and they’d agreed that they would have—she swallowed—a fling. So why was she sitting here at the edge of her bed alone?

  There was absolutely no reason to be, she assured herself. She’d
already made the commitment; the hard part was done. Sucking in a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Katherine stood up. Ignoring the quivering sensation in the pit of her stomach, she crossed the room.

  The trip down the hall took too few seconds, and before she lost her courage, Katherine grasped Michael’s doorknob and twisted. The door swung silently open, she crossed the threshold, then stopped. He was sitting on the bed waiting for her. He was naked.

  The moonlight played over his splendid body, and she drew a shuddering breath. He looked so strong, so male. Everything about her that was female trembled in response.

  “How did you know I’d come?” she whispered, her voice almost unintelligibly husky, the pulse pounding in her head.

  “I didn’t.”

  “But—” she looked down at the floor, then back at him “—what if I hadn’t?”

  “I would have come for you.”

  He pushed himself up from the bed and his muscles bunched, then eased. He stood gloriously nude and unabashed before her, and Katherine couldn’t tear her eyes away. She realized her palms were wet at the same instant she acknowledged there were places that were wetter. And warmer.

  When she met his gaze again, he said, “I have no future to give you, Katie.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You can still change your mind. It’s not too late.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  He held out his hand. “Come here.”

  She did, stopping only when to go further would have meant pressing herself to him. She grasped the fabric of her gown and started to pull the garment over her head.

  “No.” He caught her hands and brought them to his lips. “Leave it.”

  “But it’s so—” He slid his hand down her back to cup her derriere, and her quickly drawn breath caught the words. He pulled her to him and even through the flannel she could feel his arousal.

  He lowered his mouth to hers, and their tongues met. Clinging to one another, they fell to the bed. Michael’s body pressed her into the mattress and, as it had twelve years ago, her gown worked up over her thighs until finally Michael eased it over her head and tossed it aside.