It was like touching a match to dry timber. There was an explosion of light and heat. His arms slid around her and this time she accepted the intimacy of the embrace as willingly as she did the kiss. Her hands fluttered hesitantly in the air for no longer than a heartbeat, then settled on his shoulders as a sigh shuddered through her.
The flames burned brighter as memory became reality. His lips caressed her cheeks, sought the strong pulse in her neck and lingered where her perfumed scent rose to greet him. She was soft as silk beneath his plundering mouth, and though she was unresisting he sensed the hesitancy of a new bride. It was the only thing that kept him sane. If he were to let himself go, if he were to give in to the recklessness of his feelings, he knew he might very well lose her forever.
When he released her at last, his breathing was ragged, his pulse racing.
“I think I’d better go, after all. I’ll come by the library tomorrow and pick up your keys. I can do the wallpaper while you’re at work.”
“What about your work?” She was suddenly stiff and distant again. He read regret in her eyes and wondered whether she regretted the kiss or regretted what might have been.
“This should only take a couple of hours and I’m not expected in the office until afternoon.”
“Are you sure I’m not imposing?”
He grinned at the worried set to her lips. “You could never impose on me. I want to do this for you.”
She nodded then, apparently satisfied, and offered no further protest.
With a second, much quicker kiss on the cheek, Nick left before he could change his mind, before temptation made him break his unspoken vow to move slowly with Dana, to set a pace that would coax her eventually into his arms.
Dana came home late on Friday, putting off her return to avoid another meeting with Nick in such a private setting. He’d come by the library early, as he’d promised, and even with people around, she’d felt the flaring of impatient desire. It was a sensation she had sworn to resist, but it was getting more and more difficult to do. Her traitorous body craved Nick’s touch despite the warnings of her mind.
Now, as she walked through the cottage, it was almost as though she could sense Nick’s presence, as though his male scent lingered in the air and his strength surrounded her. In recent days she’d come to trust that strength, rather than fear it, yet old habits were hard to break. Now that she was home, she almost wished that she’d arrived earlier so she could have thanked Nick in person for his efforts.
She found that her room was exactly as she’d envisioned it. The wallpaper was hung, the furniture back in place. Nick had even painted the woodwork. On the nightstand beside the bed, he had left a vase of white and lavender lilacs. The sweet fragrance filled the room. Dana picked them up and buried her face in the fragile blooms, filled with emotions she’d never expected to feel again.
When she put the vase back, she discovered a note.
Dana,
Hope you like the room. Tony and I will be by for you in the morning about eight-thirty. Bring your bathing suit. We’re going to the beach.
Until then,
Nick
Her first reaction was annoyance. Once again he was making plans without consulting her, backing her into a corner. Then she reread the note and found that, despite herself, she was smiling, her heart beating a little faster. What woman could stay angry at a man who left flowers in a room he had prepared for her with such care?
That night she slept well for the first time in ages. The next morning she had barely turned over to peer at the clock when the impatient pounding started on the back door.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”
“Nick?” Her voice came out in a sleepy croak. She tumbled out of bed and pulled on a robe. She searched for her slippers but finally gave up and walked barefoot to the door.
“You’re early,” she accused as she opened the door to a grinning Tony and his very wide-awake father.
“See, Dad, I told you we should’ve called,” Tony said.
From the expression in Nick’s eyes, Dana could tell that he wasn’t the least bit sorry he’d awakened her. In fact, he looked delighted to see her in her robe, with her hair disheveled and her bare toes curling against the cool floor. She belted the robe a little tighter and stood aside to let them in.
“I thought you said eight-thirty,” she said, trying one more time for an explanation for the early arrival.
“I did, but it was such a beautiful day I thought we ought to get an early start.” Nick nudged her in the direction of the bedroom. “Go, get dressed. I’ll make some coffee. Do you want breakfast?”
“No, but if you want some, help yourselves.”
“We’ve already eaten,” Tony chimed in. “Dad fixed waffles. Sort of.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust and Dana was immediately intrigued.
“Sort of?”
“Yeah. There’s gunk all over the kitchen.”
“Quiet,” Nick ordered as Dana grinned. “Don’t tell her all my bad traits. They tasted okay, didn’t they?”
“Heck, yeah. I like charcoal,” Tony retorted, ducking as his father took a playful swipe at him.
“Tony, if you want some cereal while you wait, it’s in the cabinet by the stove,” Dana offered, laughing.
“The waffles weren’t that awful,” Nick grumbled.
Impulsively, Dana patted him on the cheek. “I’m sure they weren’t, but perhaps you should stick to building houses.”
“Somebody in our house has to cook.”
“I vote we eat here all the time,” Tony said, his voice muffled as he poked his head into the cupboard. “Ms. Brantley’s got lots of good stuff.”
As Dana’s eyes widened, Nick turned and grinned at her. “See, my dear, you have to be very careful what you say around him or he’ll be moving in.”
Before Dana could come up with a quick retort, Nick added in a seductive purr meant only for her ears, “And where my son goes, I go.”
Dana’s heart thudded crazily. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, hurrying from the kitchen.
She took her time dressing, trying to regain her composure. Nick always teased her when she least expected it and he had an astonishing ability to unnerve her. She knew he could do that only because she was beginning to lower her defenses. She might as well admit it; Nick was making her feel special. He also made her feel intelligent and desirable again. Their flirting was heady stuff, especially for a woman who’d felt none of those things in a very long time.
“Just don’t let him get too close,” she murmured as she slipped a pair of jeans on over her bathing suit.
As the day wore on, she found it was a warning that was getting exceptionally difficult to heed.
After riding along a winding road edged by towering pines and oaks they arrived at Westmoreland State Park. They spent the day swimming, walking along the trails, playing volleyball in the water and, finally, cooking hamburgers on a grill.
“Let Ms. Brantley do it, Dad.”
“Oh, ‘How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child,’” Nick bemoaned dramatically.
“What?” Tony said.
“That’s Shakespeare,” Dana told him. “It’s a line from King Lear.”
“What’s it mean?”
“It means, my boy,” Nick said, “that a kid who is rotten to his old man may not get any birthday presents next week.”
“That’s a very loose translation,” Dana noted dryly.
Tony grinned. “I get it, Dad. You want me to shape up or ship out. How about if I go swimming again?”
“Only if you stay where we can see you. No going out over your head, okay?”
“Promise,” he said, taking off across the sand.
When he had gone, Dana and Nick were left alone, sitting side by side on a blanket.
“When is his birthday?” she asked, uncomfortably aware that Nick’s bare chest and long, muscular, bare legs were just inches away from her.
“Wednesday.”
“Are you doing something special?”
“His grandparents are throwing a party for him.” Nick trailed a sandy finger along Dana’s bare back, moving back to linger at a tiny ridged scar on her shoulder. She could feel the sensation clear down to her toes. “Want to come with me?”
Dana tried to stay very still so Nick wouldn’t see how his touch and his offhand invitation were affecting her. Then she drew her knees protectively up to her chest and folded her arms across them, resting her chin on her hands. She thought about Nick’s invitation. It was one more link in the chain to tie her to him.
“I don’t think so,” she said finally.
“Because you don’t want to go?”
She glanced over at him and shook her head. “No, it’s not that.”
“What, then?”
“I don’t think I belong there.”
“Why not? The party is for Tony’s friends, and as you must know, he thinks you’re one of his very best friends.” His hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Dana, look at me. Is it because you think Ginny’s parents might resent you?”
“That’s certainly one reason,” she said, struck anew by his perceptiveness and sensitivity.
“They won’t. They’ve been asking for some time when they were going to get to meet you. I thought this might be a good time because there will be a lot of other people there. There won’t be so much pressure on you.”
“You’re sure that’s how they feel?”
“Absolutely. But you said that was one reason. Are there more?” Before she could reply, he said, “Of course there are, and I’ll bet I can guess what they are. You think people will start making assumptions about us if we’re seen together on a family occasion.”
“That’s part of it,” she admitted. She hesitated, then took a deep breath. “It’s more than that, though. To be honest, I’m also worried about what I’ll feel.”
“Trapped?”
She met his gaze and saw the guileless expression in his eyes. She nodded.
“You won’t be. I’ll never try to trap you into more than you’re ready for, Dana. Never. This is just a birthday party for Tony.”
She thought about what Nick was saying to her and realized that if she was ever to take another chance on letting a man get close to her, Nick was the right choice. She turned and smiled at him. “In that case, I’d love to come.”
His gaze met hers and her breath caught in her throat. There was such a look of raw desire, of longing, in his eyes that it made her pulse dance wildly. His hand tangled in her wet hair and he drew her closer. Dana’s heart thundered in anticipation, but before the longed-for kiss could happen, Tony’s shout drove them apart. He was racing across the sand, tears in his eyes, holding his arm. Nick was on his feet in an instant, tension radiating from him.
“What is it, son?”
Tony looked disgusted. “Just a dumb jellyfish sting,” he said, panting from his run across the sand.
“Are you okay?” Dana asked, noting the relief in Nick’s eyes.
“Yeah, I’m used to ’em,” Tony said bravely, surreptitiously swiping away the tears. “It just hurts a little.”
Nick glanced at Dana with regret, then ruffled Tony’s hair. “Come on, kiddo. We’d better go see the lifeguard and get something to put on that. Then we’d better think about getting home if you want to go to the early movie with your friends tonight.”
When they got back to River Glen, Nick pulled up in front of Dana’s house. “How about having dinner with me tonight? We’ll go out for crabs.”
“I’d like that.”
Nick seemed startled by her quick acceptance. “Terrific. I thought I was going to have to twist your arm.”
“Not for crabs. I’ve discovered an addiction to crab-meat since I moved here.”
“Then we’ll feed your habit tonight. I’ll be by for you about seven.”
Dana had butter dribbling down her chin and crab shells in her hair. Nick thought she’d never looked lovelier or more uninhibited. He reached across the table and wiped her chin with an edge of his napkin.
“You’re really into this, aren’t you?” he said with a grin. “If I’d had any idea cracking crabs was the way to your heart, I’d have brought you here days ago.”
Dana didn’t even look up. She was concentrating instead on shattering a crab shell so she could get to the sweet meat inside. Newspapers were spread across the table, shells everywhere. Only one of the dozen crabs they’d ordered remained untouched. Nick sipped his beer and watched her pounding away on the next-to-last crab. The shell on the claw finally cracked and she lifted a chunk of tender white crabmeat as triumphantly as if it were a trophy.
“For me?” Nick teased.
She scowled at him. “You get your own. This is hard work.”
“And you do it so neatly. If Tony could see this table now, he’d never again make sarcastic remarks about the messes I leave in the kitchen.”
“I suppose you’re any better at this.”
“As a matter of fact, I am something of an expert,” he retorted. “Which you would know if you’d been watching me, instead of smashing your food to bits.”
He picked up the last crab and gently tapped it a couple of times. It yielded the crabmeat instantly. He picked up the biggest chunk on his fork, dipped it in butter and held it out for Dana. She hesitated.
“Don’t you want it?”
“Oh, I want it. I’m just trying to decide if it’s worth the price.”
“What price?”
“You’ll just sit around looking smug the rest of the night.”
“No, I won’t,” he vowed. “Even though I’m certainly entitled to.”
Dana wrapped her hand around his and held it steady while she took the crabmeat off the fork. As she bit down, her eyes clashed with his and held. Nick wondered if she could feel the tension that provocative look aroused. Every muscle in his body tightened.
“Dana,” he murmured, his voice thick. She blinked and released his hand. “Dana, I want you.”
She met his gaze, then glanced away, her expression revealing the agony of indecision. “I know.” She sighed deeply and looked into his eyes again. “Nick, I can’t get involved with you. I thought you understood that this afternoon.”
“Why do you equate involvement with being trapped?”
“Experience.”
“Past experience,” he reminded her.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve made decisions about what I want for the rest of my life and involvement isn’t included.”
“How can you make a decision like that so easily?”
“It’s not easy, believe me. Although I thought it would be before I met you.”
She hesitated and Nick waited for the rest. “A part of me…a part of me wants what you want.”
“But?”
“But I can’t change the way I am. You have to accept me on my terms.”
“Which are?”
“If you care about me, you’ll accept that we’ll never be any closer than this.”
“I’ll never accept that!” he exploded, feeling a fury fueled by frustration building inside him. He saw the flicker of fear in her eyes and tried to force himself to remain calm. “I’ll give you space, Dana. I’ll give you time, but I will never give up hope for us.”
“You must.” She touched his hand, then jerked away when he would have held hers.
“I can’t,” he said simply. “That would mean living a lie. I can’t do that any more than you can.”
“Nick, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. My decision is final.”
“Sweetheart, nothing in life is ever final,” he said softly before calling for the check.
On the way home, Dana sat huddled close to the car door, as if afraid that by sitting any closer to Nick she would be tempting fate. When they got to her house, he walked her to the door, careful not to touch her.
“May I come in?”
She hesitated, then said, “Of course. Would you like some coffee or tea?”
“Tea.”
She busied herself at the stove for a few minutes, her back to him. Nick tried to understand the stiff posture, the return of distance when they had seemed so close throughout the day. He knew Dana was afraid, but of what? He was certain it was more than commitment, but nothing he could think of explained her behavior.
“Would you like your tea in here or outside?”
“On the porch,” he said, craving the darkness that might lower Dana’s resistance, provide a cover for her wariness and make her open up to him.
They talked for hours, mostly about impersonal subjects, until Nick’s nerves were stretched to the limit.
“It’s getting late, Nick. Shouldn’t you be getting home to Tony?”
“Tony’s staying at his friend Bobby’s tonight and I’m exactly where I want to be.” He dared to reach across and clasp her hand. After an instant’s hesitation, Dana folded her fingers around his. He heard her tiny sigh in the nighttime silence.
They sat that way until the pink streaks of dawn edged over the horizon, occasionally talking but more often quiet, absorbing the feel of each other. There was comfort just in being together, Nick thought, in seeing in the new day side by side.
And, despite Dana’s protests to the contrary, there was hope.
Chapter 6
It was barely ten o’clock in the morning and the temperature in the library had to be over ninety degrees. Dana had clicked on the air-conditioning when she’d arrived at eight. It had promptly given a sickening shudder, huffed and puffed desperately, and died. She’d tried to open the windows, but most of them had long since become permanently stuck. She propped the front door open with a chair, then found an old floor fan in the closet, but it only stirred the humid air. With no cross ventilation, it didn’t lower the temperature a single degree.
“Dana, what on earth’s wrong in here?” Betsy Markham said, mopping her face with a lace-edged hankie as soon as she crossed the threshold. “It’s hot as hades.”
“The air conditioner broke this morning. Come on over and sit in front of the fan. It’s not great, but it’s better than nothing.”
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