Taylor’s expression underwent a slow transformation from indignation to something far more dangerous. He gestured to her, a provocative come-hither wave of his fingers. “Come down off that ladder.”
Zelda was no slouch when it came to recognizing a dare, either. She shook her head, just to see how far Taylor was willing to go. “Uh-uh,” she said piously. “I’ve got work to do. So do you.”
“Now who’s being stuffy, Ms. Lane? Remember this song?”
Zelda hadn’t really been paying that much attention to which albums were blaring from the stereo. She just liked all that cheerful noise, that throbbing rhythm. Now she listened more closely and recognized a song that she and Taylor had once claimed as their own. It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t subtle. In fact, the provocative rhythm was as daring as their love had once been.
“Come on, sugar,” he taunted with that lazy drawl that snaked along her spine like pure desire. “Let’s see if you’ve still got those moves.”
A deliberate challenge could only be resisted for so long. With her gaze locked with Taylor’s, Zelda descended from the ladder. He reached for her hand the instant her feet hit the floor and spun her around. His hips swayed seductively. Hers matched the music’s beat. His shoulders counterpointed the rhythm. Relaxing into the music, hers mimicked his. The moves were graceful and as natural as if they’d been practicing them every day of their lives. They circled the room, intent on capturing the music’s boldly provocative essence.
Zelda could feel the rhythm deep inside her, its tug almost sexual, especially with Taylor’s appreciative gaze lingering on the rise and fall of her breasts, the sensual movements of her hips. Without even touching, they turned the dance into something intimate, four minutes of pure heat that teased the senses and invited acts far more exciting.
When the song ended, they faced each other, breathless, exhilarated, and wanting the one thing neither of them dared. Zelda knew that it would take no more than one gesture—a hand extended, a single step—and they would be making love, turning that subtle, smoldering heat into a blazing fire from which there would be no turning back.
“We’re playing with fire,” Taylor said softly, as if he’d read her mind.
“Is there some reason we shouldn’t?” she asked, her own voice husky with unspoken needs.
Taylor sighed. “I can think of dozens.”
“Name one.”
“I have a daughter.”
“Who’s not in this room.”
“I have nothing to offer. I can’t make you pretty promises. It would be just like before. We’d have this fling, get our emotions all tangled up, and then I’d end up hurting you.”
“Are you so sure of that?” she said, defeated by his apparent certainty.
Taylor nodded, his eyes bleak. “It’s what I do best,” he said, reaching for his shirt and jacket.
He didn’t stop to pull either of them on, just brushed a kiss across Zelda’s forehead and walked out, leaving her alone again. And filled with yearning.
Not even that bright pink paint was a match for the depression that settled over her.
* * *
“Zelda, it’s Caitlin. Remember?”
Zelda recognized not only the name, but the loneliness and wistful cry for attention in the child’s tone. “Hi, sweetheart,” she said, shifting the phone to her other ear so she could write down a message. “Did you want to talk to your father? He’s out of the office right now.”
“I wanted to talk to you,” Caitlin said. “Did you forget we were going to go shopping?”
Zelda hadn’t forgotten, but she had been putting it off. With everything between her and Taylor growing more awkward day by day thanks to the undeniable and powerful reawakening of their hormones, she hadn’t wanted to complicate things even further by getting too close to his daughter.
“I’ve been so busy the last couple of weeks, I haven’t been able to get a single minute free. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” Caitlin’s voice sank dispiritedly. “I guess if you’re too busy, I could call Grandmother.”
Of all the things Caitlin might have said, she’d managed to pick the one guaranteed to get Zelda’s attention. “No,” she said hurriedly, imagining another one of those proper little outfits. “A promise is a promise. Tomorrow’s Saturday. Would that be a good day?”
“Are you sure there’s still time to make a dress before next weekend? That’s when my party is.”
“That will be plenty of time. I’ll call your headmistress as soon as we hang up and make the arrangements for tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at nine so we’ll have the whole day.”
“You don’t need to call,” Caitlin said. “She’s right here. She let me use her phone.”
Zelda grinned. “Put her on, then. I’ll see you in the morning.”
After the arrangements were finalized and Zelda had hung up, she sat back and mentally congratulated Caitlin. Even at seven, she was a kid who knew exactly what she wanted and how to go about getting it. Maybe there was a lesson or two she could learn from the pint-size strategist.
At eight the next morning she grabbed her keys and headed for the door. Before she could reach it, someone knocked. Force of habit made her peek through the curtains to see who it was. Taylor stood on the porch wearing jeans, a blue oxford-cloth shirt open at the throat, and a khaki jacket. Trying to hide her astonishment, she opened the door.
“Good morning. What brings you by?”
“A command performance,” he muttered dryly. “Caitlin was afraid you wouldn’t find her school.”
“I see. Did you explain to her about maps and directions?”
“In detail. Then she cried,” he said. “I really hate it when she cries. Unfortunately, she knows it.” He regarded Zelda helplessly. “Is that a genetic thing with females? Do you all just know automatically how to get your way with men?”
Zelda laughed at his genuine bewilderment. “Taylor, if that were true, I’d have landed you long ago.” She hesitated thoughtfully. “Of course, I haven’t considered tears.”
“Don’t,” he pleaded. “Are you ready?”
“Oh, I’m ready,” she said, reminding herself to buy Caitlin the fanciest material she could find, along with a double hot-fudge sundae. She owed her a lot more than that just for this first lesson alone.
Mostly hidden in a grove of ancient oaks, Caitlin’s school sat high atop a hill overlooking a wide sweep of lawn that ended at the river’s edge. Only a discreet sign at the front gate identified it as being a school rather than someone’s home. Spanish moss hung from the live oaks that lined the winding driveway.
When they reached the circular drive in front of the main entrance Zelda had a clearer view of the school itself. Constructed of gray fieldstone, the building’s additions looked as if they’d been haphazardly tacked on to make room for an ever-increasing student population. To Zelda it seemed reminiscent of pictures she’d seen of some British country school.
As if she’d been watching from the windows, Caitlin ran out to greet them. Before either her father or Zelda could step out of the car, Caitlin had flung herself into the back seat.
“Hi, Daddy. I missed you,” she said, hugging him around the neck from behind.
“Apparently so,” he said dryly. “I thought you and Zelda had planned to make this a girl’s outing.”
“It’ll be more fun with you, though,” Caitlin said. “Won’t it, Zelda?”
Zelda glanced over her shoulder and winked. “Definitely more fun.”
“Besides, Zelda doesn’t know where the best malls are,” Caitlin rationalized.
“And you do?” Taylor said.
“No, Daddy, that’s why we need you.”
“Oh. I thought I was just along to carry the shopping bags.”
“That, too,” Zelda said. “It’s always good to have a big, strong man along to do the heavy labor, right, Caitlin?”
“Right.”
He glanced up into the rearview mirror and regarded
his daughter with mock ferocity. “You used to be such a sweet little girl.”
“I’m still sweet, but I’m not a little girl,” Caitlin replied indignantly. “I’m almost eight. And I want a grown-up dress, not some baby thing with ruffles. Okay?”
“I’ll leave that in Zelda’s capable hands,” he said. He glanced over and studied the vintage dress she’d chosen to wear for the outing. “On the other hand, perhaps I should have let you crawl around in your grandmother’s attic. She has lots of trunks up there filled with old dresses just like the one Zelda is wearing.”
Caitlin scrambled up until she could peer over the back of the seat. “I think Zelda’s dress is beautiful.”
“Thank you. Your father obviously has a very traditional sense of fashion. Naturally for an occasion as important as your birthday, we want something original, something with a little flair.”
“Something that will give my mother palpitations?” he suggested dryly.
Zelda grinned at him. “If at all possible.”
He groaned. “How did I know that?”
In the end they compromised over a pattern for a dress that was both elegant and simple. Caitlin regarded the style with disdain until Zelda led her to the bolts of fabric and found the perfect shade of teal blue velvet. Caitlin touched it carefully, her eyes growing round.
“Oh, my,” she whispered. “It’s so soft. It’s the same color as those ducks we saw last winter, isn’t it, Daddy?”
“Exactly the same color.” Taylor’s expression turned gentle. “You will look beautiful in it,” he promised. His gaze caught Zelda’s. “So would you.”
“Oh, yes,” Caitlin said at once. “Make one for you just like mine.”
A charming image of mother-daughter outfits flashed briefly in Zelda’s mind, then she shook her head. She had no right. “I don’t need a new dress. Besides, this material is outrageously expensive.”
“My treat,” Taylor said. “A thank-you gift for making Caitlin so happy.”
Zelda fingered the material longingly. It was truly magnificent. “Maybe just enough for a skirt,” she agreed finally, already envisioning the slender lines of it with a daring slit up the back.
When the purchase had been made, Caitlin led them to the mall’s food court. “Ice cream,” she announced.
“A balanced lunch, then ice cream,” Taylor countered.
Zelda rolled her eyes. “Come on. This is a rare treat. There are no rules.”
Taylor looked as if he weren’t quite sure what to do without a set of dietary guidelines. He glanced around at the various options.
“Okay,” he said finally, “you two go for broke. I think I’ll have a grilled chicken sandwich.”
Zelda planted herself in front of him. “Do you really want a grilled chicken sandwich or is that the only healthy thing you could identify?”
“Healthy habit,” he admitted.
“Okay, now, close your eyes,” she insisted. “Let all those decadent food choices flow through your mind. Think of this as a day at a carnival or a celebration. What would you really, really like if you couldn’t hear your mother or your doctor whispering in your ear?”
He closed his eyes, apparently taking the game she’d suggested seriously. “Nachos,” he confessed slowly. “A big plate of chips, covered with cheese and refried beans and sour cream and salsa.”
“That’s it,” Zelda told him approvingly. “Now you sit right over there and I will bring that to you.”
Taylor laughed. “You really don’t need to wait on me. I can get it myself.”
“But you won’t. You’ll have an attack of conscience halfway over there and come back with that grilled chicken sandwich. Worse, you’ll find someplace that makes a salad and has diet dressing.”
“You know me too well,” he said, still laughing, looking more carefree than he had since the day she came back into town. “Maybe you’re good for me, after all.”
The surprising admission, made thoughtfully and with some obvious reluctance, was still enough to make Zelda’s heart sing.
Minutes later she and Caitlin returned with trays laden with nachos, pizza and ice cream. Taylor groaned. “We’ll all wind up with clogged arteries.”
“Not from one day’s indulgence,” Zelda insisted. “Now don’t spoil this. Just enjoy.”
His gaze met hers as she bit into the cheesy pizza. With her tongue she tried to catch a strand of errant mozzarella. His eyes deliberately followed every movement, locking onto her tongue in a way that made her pulse buck and made her forget all about food. Her imagination kicked in. She could have been eating sawdust.
Suddenly all she could think about was the rough texture of Taylor’s skin, the salty taste of it against her tongue, the way it heated beneath her touch. When he brushed a finger across her lips to wipe away a dab of tomato sauce, she swallowed hard. When he slowly, deliberately, licked the sauce from his finger, she felt the tug of pure longing all the way to her toes. Dear heaven, it was like making love in public.
Dazed, she glanced around guiltily, her gaze finally settling on Caitlin, who was clearly so absorbed with her huge sundae that she was oblivious to whatever was going on between her father and Zelda. When she finally dared another look at Taylor, he, too, seemed innocently unaware of the havoc he had wreaked with her senses. He was busily piling a chip high with cheese and salsa.
Finally, just as he was about to put it into his mouth, he grinned at her. “Nothing like a little spice to liven things up, huh?”
Zelda figured if Taylor Matthews brought much more spice into her life without following through, she’d be limp as a dishrag.
Chapter Eleven
As the day wore on and Caitlin grew tired and cranky from too much excitement, Taylor watched in wonder as Zelda easily teased a smile back onto her face. From the instant they had met, it had been evident that the two were soulmates. He envied them that easy camaraderie.
In most ways Zelda’s easy rapport with his daughter delighted him. That didn’t stop him from worrying about what would happen when Zelda left Port William. He determinedly pushed the worry aside because by the end of their shopping expedition, Taylor saw a glimmer of the exuberant, lively child he’d dropped off at boarding school for the first time back in September. He would be eternally grateful that his child’s natural liveliness had been restored.
Another thought kept sneaking in as he watched the pair of them, one he couldn’t readily dismiss. He wondered if he’d misjudged Zelda all these years. She seemed to know instinctively all the things about parenting that bemused him. She was gentle and patient. She listened. Caitlin was visibly blossoming under all the attention. How could someone who lived selfishly and thoroughly in the moment without a thought for anything beyond that be so attuned to a child’s needs? Unless, of course, there was more substance there than he’d been giving her credit for. Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time in his life he’d been blind to the truth.
Whatever that truth was in this instance, he was pleased for Caitlin. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—take this friendship away from her unnecessarily. She’d already lost too much in her young life.
But just how was he supposed to protect himself from the warmth that spread through him just being around the two of them? Zelda’s teasing always included him. Her eyes sparkled like rare gems whenever she looked his way. And her laughter, which she shared unstintingly, eased an ache deep inside him.
As they left the mall, he found himself instinctively reaching for her hand, folding it in his own, marveling at how right it felt, even as the reaction scared the daylights out of him. He had vowed never again to be taken in by a woman’s wiles, yet here he was, mesmerized. He had vowed always to let his head overrule his emotions, yet here he was, lost to sensation.
They drove back to Graystone School with the exhausted Caitlin wedged between them. Her head drooped, then came to rest on Zelda’s shoulder. He watched a little enviously as she smoothed his daughter’s hair from her
cheeks, her fingers caressing the soft skin with evident wonder written on her face.
As if she sensed his gaze on her, she glanced over at him.
“You’re so lucky, Taylor,” she whispered with an unmistakable catch in her voice. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “It must be so wonderful to watch a child grow, to nurture her and know that a part of you will live on in her.”
“I suppose,” he said, wishing that he could feel the joy as readily as he could the fear. Though he couldn’t say it aloud, certainly not with Caitlin nearby and merely drowsing, he was terrified to think that it was not just his genes in his daughter, but Maribeth’s. What if her careless nature was what Caitlin had inherited? What if his daughter lived too short a life because she, too, thrived on danger?
And what, he finally asked himself, what if Zelda was ultimately destroyed because of the same addiction to reckless acts? He wasn’t sure he could bear another such loss. Wasn’t that the bottom line that explained his holding back when he wanted nothing more than to have her back in his bed and in his life?
Zelda regarded him intently, as if she could sense his unspoken reservations without possibly being able to guess the cause. “Taylor?” she said questioningly.
He shook his head, mustering a faint grin. “Don’t mind me. Sometimes I get so caught up in what-ifs, I forget to live in the here and now.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There’s no reason you should,” he said. To avoid further explanation, he directed his full attention to the road ahead. When they arrived at Graystone, he carried Caitlin inside, hoping that by the time he got back to the car, Zelda would have forgotten all about his enigmatic remarks.
Naturally, though, she hadn’t. The minute he got behind the wheel, she regarded him evenly. “Suppose you tell me whatever it was you were trying so hard not to say a few minutes ago.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Damn it, Taylor, ever since I got back to town you and everybody else have been hinting that there’s some deep, dark secret about your marriage. Now I get the feeling that it has something to do with your daughter, maybe even explains why you’ve shipped her off to boarding school when a kid her age needs to be at home where she’s loved.”
A Daring Vow (Vows) Page 11
