They rested side by side, their hands locked together, their legs touching.
“Mrs. Dupuis will be back soon,” she said quietly.
“I know.” Logan turned on his side and raised himself up on one elbow. “It will be easier when you have a place of your own. I think Wendi’s too young to deal with her father sleeping with the housekeeper.” He grinned.
Melissa took a deep breath, not allowing herself to hope. “Are you saying you want to continue to see me?”
“Of course. What did you think? That I’m some sleaze taking advantage of the hired help?” Reaching down, he kissed her. “In all the years Mrs. Dupuis has worked here, I’ve never once been tempted to have my way with her.”
It wasn’t going to end. The tight band around her heart began to ease. If he wanted to continue the relationship, then he must have plans for them…for the future.
She wanted to tell him she loved him but held back. She’d said the words once and he’d been unable to respond in kind. Until he could admit that he cared for her, she’d remain silent. When Jeff had wanted to leave her, she’d begged him to stay. The pleading had only made his departure more difficult. That was a lesson she’d learned well. She would offer her heart once, and if it wasn’t accepted, she would go on with a small amount of pride intact.
“How many more nights?” Logan asked as he traced a pattern on her ribs.
“Eleven.”
“Isn’t Wendi going out on Friday?”
“Yes. From about seven thirty until…eleven.” Her voice became breathless as he continued the game with his tongue.
“Friday, huh? We’ll have to do something memorable to keep us going until then.”
And so they did.
“Daddy, can I talk to you?”
Logan looked up from his work. “Sure, Wendi. What’s up?”
His daughter walked into the office and perched on the corner of his desk. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a thick braid. Her eyes came from her mother, but the grin was his. She was a pretty girl who would grow into a stunning woman. What he wouldn’t give to keep her grounded in the real world.
Melissa had been a great help this summer, he thought with a slight smile. Her down-to-earth approach had shown Wendi how the other half lived. It had been good for the girl.
“I’m confused.” Wendi toyed with the hem of her skirt. “It’s about Mom. I know she’s busy and all, but she’s not like a regular mother. I still love her and I know she loves me, but…”
Logan pulled Wendi onto his lap. Anger at his ex-wife was overpowered by compassion for his daughter. “Fiona loves you very much, kitten.”
“Daddy, is it wrong to want her to do other things?”
“Like?”
She shrugged. “I wish she’d cook dinner for me and we’d just sit and talk about school and boys and stuff. We never do that. Usually, she leaves me with the maid and goes out with one of her boyfriends.”
Her words painted a bleak, lonely picture. He’d suspected Fiona’s activities but had never wanted to have them confirmed.
“Would you rather not go see her anymore?”
“No. I like going there. Daddy…are you…” She looked up at him, her green eyes filled with tears. “Are you and Mommy ever going to get back together again?”
He would do anything to make her happy…anything but lie. “No, sweetheart, we’re not.”
“Because you don’t love each other anymore?”
“Yes.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. Her body might be reaching toward womanhood, but her heart was still that of a girl. Closing his eyes, he wondered what he could have done differently to have saved his baby this pain. If he hadn’t married Fiona, she would never have had his daughter. If he’d stayed in the marriage…
He sighed. Staying hadn’t been an option. Living with someone who enjoyed breaking her vows had been hell. Women couldn’t be trusted. They didn’t believe in commitment. When things got tough, they were gone.
Wendi shifted on his lap and rubbed her stomach.
“You feeling okay?” he asked.
“I think so. My tummy’s kind of upset. Must be all the excitement about the dance.”
“It couldn’t possibly be the extra serving of ice cream at dinner, could it?”
“No.” She laughed, then grew thoughtful. “Do you love Melissa, Daddy?”
“What?”
“I worry about that.”
His back stiffened. “You worry about my loving Melissa?”
She giggled. “No, silly. I worry that I love her. Is it wrong? Because of Mom, I mean.”
His pulse returned to normal. That had been a close one. For a moment he’d thought Wendi had found out that he and Melissa were…involved.
His daughter’s question lingered. Did he love Melissa? Of course not. He’d sworn never to love a woman again. She was more caring than Fiona had ever been. He even trusted her with his child. But there was a part of him that doubted. There was a cold empty space in his soul that expected one day she too would leave.
“Wendi, it’s not wrong for you to care about Melissa. She’s been very good to you. Your friend, Sally—does she have any brothers or sisters?”
“One of each.”
“Do her parents love only one of the children?”
“No. They argue about who’s the favorite, but I think her mom and dad love them the same.”
He patted his daughter’s back. “The human heart is an amazing thing. The more people you love, the more love you have to give. It’s perfectly all right to care about Melissa and your mother. You don’t have to pick one over the other.”
Melissa leaned against the hall wall and smiled. She’d finished ironing the girl’s dress for the dance tomorrow night and wanted to show her how it came out. The conversation she stumbled upon made her insides swell with gratitude. How like Logan to reassure his daughter. He was a wonderful man.
As she turned to tiptoe away, Wendi spoke again.
“Daddy, are you going to marry Melissa?”
She froze in place. Her heart stopped to wait for the answer. She heard him clear his throat.
“No, kitten, I’m not. I guess I’m not the marrying kind.”
Somehow Melissa made it back to Wendi’s room. She hung the party dress in the front of the closet, then made sure the shoes were tucked away in their box.
It didn’t hurt, she told herself firmly, ignoring the way her lungs burned with each breath. He hadn’t said anything she didn’t already know. Over and over he had told her how he felt about commitments. He didn’t want a long-term relationship, certainly not marriage. The desire to see her again was just that—desire. An affair to keep him satisfied for a few weeks. And then it would be over.
All her hopes and dreams had been foolish plans made by a lonely heart. Even if Logan loved her, he wasn’t willing to trust her. And without trust, there was nothing.
A shell formed around her heart. The painful case locked in all the love she had offered…the love he had rejected. If she didn’t think about what could have been, she’d get through the next moment, and the next. Soon a day would have passed, and another, then she’d be free to leave. Only when this was a faded memory would she dare examine what had happened.
Maybe she should cry, she thought as she made her way back to her room. Although the tears formed hot pressure behind her eyes, they refused to flow. The wound was too deep. It would be like trying to fill a chasm with a single grain of sand.
The door to Logan’s office was still partially closed. She heard his low voice, then the sound of Wendi’s laughter. For the first time since she’d arrived in the house three months before, she was an outsider—the third wheel that didn’t belong in the family’s inner circle.
Sometime during the night, Melissa rose from her empty bed and stole down the hall to Logan’s room. In the dim shadows, she could make out the shape of his body, the way the sheets tangled in his legs and left his chest ba
re to her gaze.
The love trapped inside her heart swelled against the confining shell and threatened to crush her soul. If only…if only she hadn’t cared; if only Fiona hadn’t hurt him; if only she’d never taken the job in the first place.
Why? she asked silently. Why won’t you trust me?
But she knew the answer.
The sun was creeping over the eastern horizon before she finally found rest. Even then, her dreams were tormented by what should have been.
“What do you think?” Wendi spun in a slow circle, then stopped and smoothed her hands over her ruffled skirt.
The green dress was the exact shade of her eyes. It brought out the color in her face and the shine in her curly hair. The matching pumps made her slender legs appear long and curvy. She looked like a model for springtime.
“You’re perfect,” Melissa said, then smiled. “Mark is a very lucky boy.”
“Thanks. I’m going to go show Dad.” She grabbed her purse and took a long, running step. The high heels made her lose her balance and she reached for the wall. “I guess this growing up thing is harder than I thought.”
“You’ll catch on. Have a good time, Wendi. And…”
She held up her hand. “Don’t say it, I know. Eleven o’clock, not a minute later. Jeez.”
Her complaints about the curfew drifted back as she walked into the living room. Melissa stayed behind and began picking up the girl’s room. The piles of clothing and makeup made the quarters look like a tornado had blown through.
After hanging and folding the garments, she made the bed and picked up the bathroom. Anything to keep from returning to the main part of the house and facing Logan. By pretending to sleep late this morning and helping Wendi get ready this evening, she had managed to avoid being alone with him. But the time was drawing closer. He expected them to make love tonight and she didn’t have a clue as to what she would do.
Part of her wanted to give in to his embrace, to hold fast one more time. To gather memories to last through the winter of her life. Her pride, on the other hand, reminded her that she knew he had no intention of anything more than an affair. And she wasn’t the type of woman who dallied in affairs.
Finally the room was clean. Taking a deep breath for courage, she walked into the kitchen.
“There you are,” Logan said as he opened a bottle of wine. “I wondered where you were hiding. We only have three and a half hours. We’d best take advantage of our time.”
When he smiled like that, all warm and full of desire, she wanted to pretend that she’d never overheard his conversation with Wendi…but that wasn’t possible.
“Logan, I don’t think we should…”
He looked up at her, his eyes filled with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just can’t—” she stared at the floor and spoke softly “—make love with you.”
“What?” He moved next to her, the bottle of wine abandoned on the counter.
“There’s no point in continuing. The relationship would have ended anyway. Why prolong the inevitable?”
He put a hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She read anger and confusion and something that might have been hurt. Give in, her heart pleaded. Take what he has and be satisfied. It’s better than being alone.
But if she let him take her to his bed, she might weaken enough to confess what she’d overheard. He’d pity her then, and the pity would be more than she could bear.
“Logan, how do you feel about me?” she asked. “Do you care for me at all?”
Logan dropped his hand from her face and stuffed it into the front pocket of his jeans. Although her voice was gentler and the words slightly different, the purpose was the same. “How much do you love me?” Fiona had taunted. “Enough to take me when I’ve been with another man? Enough to have me and wonder if you’re better?”
His mind replayed the angry scenes until the past and present blurred together.
“If you expect me to beg and say I love you, you can forget it. No woman is worth that.”
Melissa stepped back and jerked her head as though he’d slapped her. All the color drained from her face, leaving behind the pale cast of someone robbed of life.
“I never mattered to you at all.” She wasn’t asking a question. Her eyes grew dark, with pain this time, not passion. “I see that now.”
He wanted to deny her words. Of course, she’d mattered. His anger began to fade. Maybe if he explained what her question had made him remember…
“I suppose, under the circumstances, I’d better leave.”
He glanced at her. Her shoulders were stiff, her spine unyielding. Naturally, he thought. All women left in the end. Melissa was no different. Oh, she hadn’t been unfaithful, he’d give her that, but maybe she simply hadn’t had the chance.
He waited for the rage to burn again, but there was only emptiness. A hollow space Melissa had once filled.
Don’t go. The thought came from nowhere. It grew in his mind and pressed against his tongue. Say you won’t go.
No! He wouldn’t beg…no matter what it cost.
Ask me, Melissa pleaded silently. Ask me to stay and I will. Tell me there’s a chance that we can make this work.
He said nothing. His tawny eyes faded until the gold existed only in her memory. Hard pride scored his features.
She spoke first. “I’ll call an agency in the morning and get someone in until Mrs. Dupuis returns.”
“Leave your address on my desk and I’ll mail your last check.”
That was it? she thought. A discussion of money, as though she were some whore he’d picked up on Sunset Boulevard? Tears threatened. She knew she wouldn’t cry, not today, not for several weeks to come, but she used the burning as an excuse to turn away.
“I need to start packing.”
“Fine.”
He walked past her and into his office. The door closed with a quiet click.
“Logan, please…I love you. Nothing can change that. I want to stay.”
But he wasn’t there to hear her plea.
Melissa heard the key in the front door about nine-thirty. She’d been trying to read in the living room, but the words had danced unintelligibly before her eyes. Last night she hadn’t thought it was possible to hurt any more, but now she knew the disillusionment she’d felt yesterday was only the beginning.
Tossing the book onto the sofa, she walked into the foyer. The door opened and Wendi looked up at her. Mark stood on one side; an older man who looked like his father stood on the other.
“Hi,” Wendi said. “I’m home early.”
Dark half circles shaded the area under her eyes, and her mouth was pulled into a straight line.
“What’s wrong?”
The preteen shrugged. “I didn’t feel very good, so I asked Mark’s dad to bring me home early.” Wendi turned to Mark and gave him a wan smile. “I had a really good time. Sorry I made you miss all the fun.”
“No problem.” The tall, lanky blonde leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “See ya at school on Monday. Hope you feel better.”
“Thanks.” She stepped inside and closed the door. “I think I’ll just go to bed.”
Melissa touched her forehead. “You don’t have a fever. What hurts?”
“My stomach. It feels heavy and achy, but I don’t think I’m going to throw up.”
“You didn’t eat anything for dinner. It’s probably hunger. Go put on your pajamas. I’ll fix some toast and weak tea and bring it in.”
“Thanks.” Wendi stepped out of her shoes, then bent down and picked them up.
While Melissa boiled the water, she debated whether or not to tell Logan. He was the girl’s father; he had a right to know she wasn’t feeling well.
However, two hours before, the man had broken her heart. Walking in to face him in his study seemed to be a clear case of emotional suicide.
He solved the dilemma by findi
ng her first.
“Did I hear Wendi come in?” he asked as he entered the kitchen.
“Yes.” She was careful to only look at the toast she was lightly buttering. “Her stomach hurts. I think it’s because she hasn’t eaten all day.”
“It was bothering her yesterday, as well. You don’t think there’s something wrong?”
The worry in his voice broke through her reserve and she risked glancing up. “I don’t think she has a fever, but I’ll take her temperature to be sure. Don’t worry, Logan. If this doesn’t clear up in the next day or so, I’ll get her to the doctor first thing Monday.”
“You won’t be here Monday.”
He sounded so bitter, she thought angrily. Her leaving was all his fault. Spinning to face him, she folded her arms across her chest. “I can’t call the agency until then, so I will be here. Any other complaints?”
Was it her imagination or did his eyes seem empty? Was he waiting for her to say something? She shook her head. There was nothing for her to say. He was the one who couldn’t make a commitment. It was his problem, he’d have to solve it himself. The kettle began to whistle and she turned off the stove.
Cheap talk, she thought as she poured the boiling water into the cup. She’d be in his arms in a second, if he’d just admit he loved her.
He reached out to touch her arm. She held her breath, a silent prayer forming in her head. Then his hand fell back to his side and he turned away.
“No more complaints.”
He’s a fool, she told herself. A certified card-carrying fool. But if calling him names was supposed to make her feel better, it didn’t even come close.
She picked up the tray and carried it to Wendi’s room. Pausing outside the door, she took a moment to collect herself. If the girl wasn’t feeling well, the last thing she needed to know was that the people around her were having problems.
“Hi, kiddo. How are you doing?”
Wendi sat up in bed. “I don’t know. I’m a little better.”
Melissa set the tray on her lap. “Get started on that tea and toast. I want to take your temperature, then poke around at your tummy.”
Tender Loving Care Page 20
