“I had Phoebe and Dan.”
“You were a teenager by then. Before that, you seem to have raised yourself.”
He was deliberately turning the conversation away from himself. She understood that, too, and she let him do it. “Me and Danielle Steel.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I was a fan, and I knew she had lots of kids. I used to pretend I was one of them.” She smiled at his amusement. “Now, some might find that pathetic, but I think it was pretty creative.”
“It’s definitely original.”
“Then I’d fantasize a mercifully painless death for Bert, at which point it would be magically revealed that he wasn’t my father at all. My real father was—”
“Let me guess. Bill Cosby.”
“I wasn’t that well adjusted. It was Bruce Springsteen. And no comments, okay?”
“Why should I comment when Freud already did the job?”
Molly wrinkled her nose at him. They sat in surprisingly companionable silence, broken only by Roo’s rhythmic snores. But Molly’d never been good at leaving well enough alone. “I still think you need to hear her out.”
“I can’t come up with a single reason why.”
“Because she won’t go away until you do. And because this will keep hovering over you for the rest of your life.”
He set down his glass. “Maybe the reason you’re so obsessed with analyzing my life is so you won’t get depressed thinking about your own neuroses.”
“Probably.”
He rose from the glider. “What do you say we go into town for some dinner?”
She’d already spent far too much time with him today, but she couldn’t stand the idea of staying here alone tonight while he painted the town German chocolate. “I suppose. Let me get a sweater.”
As she headed back to her bedroom, she told herself what she already knew. Going out to dinner with him was a lousy idea, just as lousy as the two of them sitting around on the porch drinking wine together. Almost as lousy as not insisting he sleep under another roof.
Even though she didn’t care about impressing him, she decided a shawl would make a better fashion statement with her sundress than a sweater, and she whipped out the bright red tablecloth she’d discovered in the bottom drawer of the dresser. As she unfolded it, she spotted something strange on the table next to her bed, something that hadn’t been there earlier and that definitely didn’t belong to her. “Aarrrggghhhh!”
Kevin shot into the room. “What’s wrong?”
“Look at that!” She pointed at the small bottle of drugstore perfume. “That meddling little… trollop!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Amy stuck that perfume there!” She rounded on him. “Bite me!”
“Why are you mad at me? I didn’t do it.”
“No! Bite me. Give me a hickey right here.” She jabbed her finger at a spot a few inches above her collarbone.
“You want me to give you a hickey?”
“Are you deaf?”
“Just thunderstruck.”
“There’s no one else I can ask, and I can’t stand spending another day getting marital advice from a nineteen-year-old nymphomaniac. This’ll put a stop to it.”
“Did anybody ever mention you might be a few french fries short of a Happy Meal?”
“Go ahead. Make fun of me. She doesn’t condescend to you the same way she does to me.”
“Forget it. I’m not giving you a hickey.”
“Fine. I’ll get someone else to do it.”
“You will not!”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I’ll ask Charlotte Long.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“She knows how the lovebirds behave. She’ll understand.”
“The image of that woman chomping on your neck just took away my appetite. And don’t you think it’ll be a little embarrassing showing off your bruise when other people are around?”
“I’ll wear something with a collar, and I’ll flip it up.”
“Then push it right back down when you see Amy.”
“Okay, I’m not proud of myself. But if I don’t do something, I’m going to strangle her.”
“She’s just a teenager. Why do you care?”
“Fine. Forget it.”
“And have you run off to Charlotte Long?” His voice dropped a husky note. “I don’t think so.”
She swallowed. “You’ll do it?”
“I guess I have to.”
Oh, boy… She squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her neck toward him. Her heart started to pound. What did she think she was doing?
Not a thing, apparently, because he didn’t touch her.
She opened her eyes and blinked. “Could you, uh, hurry up?”
He didn’t touch her, but neither did he move away. Oh, God, why did he have to be so gorgeous? Why couldn’t he have wrinkly skin and a big potbelly instead of being a walking advertisement for hard bodies? “What are you waiting for?”
“I haven’t given a girl a hickey since I was fourteen.”
“I’m sure it’ll come back if you concentrate.”
“Concentration isn’t my problem.”
The gleam in those smoky green eyes indicated that her behavior had put her right on the border between eccentric and insane. Her burst of temper had faded. She had to extricate herself. “Oh, never mind.”
She spun around to leave, but he caught her arm. The feel of his fingers on her skin made her shiver. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t. I just need to warm up a little.”
Even if her feet had caught fire, she couldn’t have moved.
“I can’t just lunge and bite.” His thumb stroked her arm. “It’s not in my nature.” Goose bumps quivered over her skin as he lifted his hand and trailed a finger over the curve of her neck.
Her voice developed a really annoying rasp. “It’s all right. Go ahead and lunge.”
“I’m a professional athlete.” His words were a seductive caress as he traced a lazy S to the base of her throat. “Lack of a proper warm-up leads to injuries.”
“That’s the point, isn’t it? An… injury?”
He didn’t reply, and she stopped breathing as his mouth came closer. She felt a shock when his lips brushed the corner of hers.
He hadn’t even made a direct hit, but her bones melted. She heard a soft, indecipherable sound and realized it had come from her, the easiest woman on planet earth.
He pulled her against him, a gentle movement, but the contact sizzled. Hard bone and warm flesh. She wanted all of his mouth, and she turned her head to find it, but he altered course. Instead of giving her the kiss she yearned for, he touched the opposite corner of her mouth.
Her blood pounded. His lips trailed from her jaw to her neck. Then he got ready to do exactly as she’d asked.
I’ve changed my mind! Please don’t bite!
He didn’t. He played at her throat until her breathing came fast and shallow. She hated him for teasing her, but couldn’t make herself push away. And then he put an end to the game and kissed her for real.
The world spun, and everything turned upside down. His arms cradled her as if she really belonged inside them. She didn’t know whose lips parted first, but their tongues touched.
It was a kiss made in lonely dreams. A kiss that took its time. A kiss that felt so right she couldn’t remember all the reasons it was wrong.
His hand plowed through her hair, and those hard hips pressed against hers. She felt what she’d done to him and loved it. Her breast tingled as he covered it with his palm.
He yelped and snatched his hand away. “Damn it!”
She sprang back and instinctively checked to see if her breast had grown teeth. But it wasn’t her breast.
He glared down at Roo, whose sharp, canine nails were digging into his leg. “Go away, mutt!”
Reality crashed back in on her. Just what did she think she was doing playing kissy-face with Mr. I’m Too Sexy? And she couldn
’t even blame him for letting things get out of hand because she was the one who’d started it.
“Stop it, Roo.” Shaken, she pulled the dog away.
“Don’t you ever trim the Klingon’s toenails?”
“He wasn’t attacking you. He just wanted to play.”
“Yeah? Well, so did I!”
A long silence quivered between them.
She wanted him to be the first to look away, but he didn’t, so she looked right back. It was unnerving. While she felt like hiding under the bed, he seemed perfectly willing to stand there all evening and think things over. The breast he’d touched still felt warm.
“This is getting complicated,” he finally said.
She was messing with the NFL, so she ignored her rubbery legs. “Not for me. You’re an okay kisser, by the way. So many athletes gnaw.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You just keep fighting, Daphne. Now, are we going to get dinner, or should we get back to work on that hickey you want so bad?”
“Forget the hickey. Sometimes the cure is worse than the disease.”
“And sometimes bunny ladies turn into chickens.”
She wasn’t going to win this game, so she stuck her nose in the air like the rich heiress she wasn’t, then grabbed the red tablecloth and swirled it around her shoulders.
The North Woods décor made the dining room of the Wind Lake Inn feel like an old hunting lodge. Indian-blanket-print curtains hung at the long, narrow windows, and the rustic walls displayed a collection of snowshoes and antique animal traps, along with the mounted heads of deer and elk. Molly focused on the birchbark canoe hanging from the rafters instead of those staring glass eyes.
Kevin was getting good at reading her mind, and he nodded toward the dead animals. “There used to be this restaurant in New York that specialized in exotic game—kangaroo, tiger, elephant steaks. One time some friends took me there for lionburgers.”
“That’s revolting! What kind of sick person would eat Simba?”
He chuckled and returned to his trout. “Not me. I had hash browns and pecan pie instead.”
“You’re messing with me. Stop it.”
His eyes took a few lazy tango steps over her body. “You didn’t mind earlier.”
She toyed with the stem of her wineglass. “It was the alcohol.”
“It was the sex we’re not having.”
She opened her mouth to cut him off at the knees, but he cut her off first. “Save your breath, Daph. It’s time you faced a few important facts. Number one, we’re married. Number two, we’re living under the same roof—”
“Not by my choice.”
“And number three, we’re both celibate at the moment.”
“You can’t be celibate for a moment. It’s a long-term lifestyle. Believe me, I know.” She hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud. Or maybe she had. She speared a carrot coin she didn’t want to eat.
He set down his fork to study her more closely. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“Of course I’m kidding.” She gobbled up the carrot. “Did you think I was serious?”
He rubbed his chin. “You aren’t kidding.”
“Do you see the waiter? I think I’m ready for dessert.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“No.”
He bided his time.
She riddled with another piece of carrot, then shrugged. “I’ve got issues.”
“So does Time magazine. Stop hedging.”
“First tell me where you think this conversation is going.”
“You know where. Straight to the bedroom.”
“Bedrooms,” she emphasized, wishing he didn’t look so grim about it. “His and hers. And it has to stay that way.”
“A couple of days ago I’d have agreed with you. But both of us know that if it hadn’t been for Godzilla’s toenails, we’d be naked right now.”
She shivered. “You don’t know that for a fact.”
“Listen, Molly, the newspaper ad doesn’t come out until next Thursday. Today’s only Saturday. It’ll take another couple of days for interviews. Then another day or so to train whoever I hire. That’s a lot of nights.”
She’d wimped around long enough, and she abandoned all pretense of eating. “Kevin, I don’t do casual sex.”
“Now, that’s weird. I seem to remember a night last February…”
“I had a crush on you, all right? A stupid crush that got out of hand.”
“A crush?” He leaned back in the chair, beginning to enjoy himself. “What are you, twelve?”
“Stop being a jerk.”
“So you had a crush on me?”
His crooked smile looked exactly like Benny’s when he thought he had Daphne right where he wanted her. The bunny didn’t like it, and neither did Molly.
“I had crushes on you and Alan Greenspan both at the same time. I can’t imagine what I was thinking of. Although the crush I had on Greenspan was a lot worse. Thank God I didn’t run into him with that sexy briefcase.”
He ignored that bit of folderol. “Interesting that Daphne seems to have a crush on Benny, too.”
“She does not! He’s horrible to her.”
“Maybe if she’d put out, he’d be nicer.”
“That’s more disgusting than me and Charlotte Long!” She needed to sidetrack this conversation. “You can get sex anywhere, but we have a friendship, and that’s more important.”
“A friendship?”
She nodded.
“Yeah, I guess we do. Maybe that’s what makes this exciting. I’ve never had sex with a friend before.”
“It’s nothing more than a fascination with the forbidden.”
“I don’t see why it’s forbidden to you.” He frowned. “I have a lot more to lose.”
“Exactly how do you figure that?”
“Come on. You know how I feel about my career. Your closest family members happen to be my employers, and I’m on shaky ground with them at the moment. This is exactly why I always keep my female relationships separate from the team. I’ve never even dated one of the Star Girl cheerleaders.”
“Yet here you are, all ready to get jiggy with the boss’s sister.”
“I’ve got everything to lose. You don’t have anything.”
Just this fragile little heart of mine.
He ran his thumb along the stem of his wineglass. “The truth is, a few nights of sexual dalliance might help your writing career.”
“I can’t wait to hear this.”
“It’ll reprogram your subconscious so you don’t send out any more secret homosexual messages in your books.”
She rolled her eyes.
He grinned.
“Give me a break, Kevin. If we were back in Chicago, it wouldn’t occur to you to even think about having sex with me. How flattering is that?”
“It sure as hell would occur to me if we were together all the time like we are here.”
He was deliberately missing the point, but before she could tell him that, the waitress appeared to see if there was anything wrong with the meals they weren’t eating.
Kevin assured her there wasn’t. She gave him a full-blast smile and began chatting with him as if he were her best friend. Since people reacted the same way to Dan and Phoebe, Molly was used to this kind of interruption, but the waitress was cute and curvy, so she found it annoying.
When the woman finally left, Kevin settled back in his chair and picked up the one part of their conversation she most wished he’d forgotten. “This celibacy thing… how long has that been going on?”
She took her time cutting a small piece of chicken. “A while.”
“Any particular reason?”
She chewed slowly, as if she were thinking over his question instead of trying to find a way out. There wasn’t any, so she attempted to sound grand and mysterious. “A choice I made.”
“Is this one more part of that good girl thing everybody in the world believes about you except me?�
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“I am a good girl!”
“You’re a brat.”
She sniffed, a little pleased, but not letting on. “Why should a virtuous woman have to justify herself? Or semivirtuous anyway, so don’t think I was a virgin before I lost my mind with you.” But in some ways she was a virgin. Although she knew about sex, neither of her two affairs had taught her anything about making love, and neither had that awful night with Kevin.
“Because we’re friends, remember? Friends tell each other things. You already know a lot more about me than almost anybody.”
She didn’t like being more embarrassed about this disclosure than she’d been when she told him she’d given away her inheritance, so she tried her best to look pious by putting her elbows on the table and making little prayer hands. “Being sexually discriminating is nothing to be ashamed about.”
In some ways he understood her better than her own family, and his raised eyebrow told her she hadn’t impressed him.
“I’m just—I know a lot of people treat sex casually, but I can’t do that. I think it’s too important.”
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
“Well, then, that’s it.”
“I’m glad.”
Was it her imagination, or did she detect a little smugness in his expression?
“You’re glad about what? That you’ve had a stadium full of easy women while I’ve been keeping my legs crossed? Talk about a double standard.”
“Hey, I’m not proud of it. It’s programmed in those X chromosomes. And it hasn’t been a stadium full.”
“Let me put it like this: Some people can handle sex without commitment, but it turns out that I’m not one of them, so it would be better if you’d move back into the house.”
“Technically speaking, Daph, I’ve made a pretty big commitment to you, and I’m thinking it’s payback time.”
“Sex is not a commodity. You can’t bargain with it.”
“Who says?” His smile turned positively diabolical. “There were lots of nice-looking clothes at that boutique in town, and I can be real free with my credit card.”
“What a proud moment this is for me. Bunny-book author turned hooker in one easy step.”
He liked that, but his rumble of laughter was interrupted by a couple approaching from the other side of the dining room. “Excuse me, but aren’t you Kevin Tucker? Hey, my wife and I are big fans…”
This Heart Of Mine Page 22
