She pushed her chair around. "Perhaps you'd be kind enough to get my crutches now? I'd really rather walk than—" Her eyes fell once more on the easel and the perspective drawing it held. Perhaps he would let her have a copy of that drawing, as a memento of Eagle's Landing. Not that she needed a reminder, exactly, but…
She made up her mind to ask, but before the question was formed, she realized the drawing wasn't Eagle's Landing, after all, but some other, eerily similar Tudor revival house.
Karr bent to pick her up, but Maggie held him off with a hand firmly planted against his chest. "Karr, what's that?"
He looked over his shoulder. "Just a drawing of something that doesn't exist. I didn't realize it was in here."
Maggie could feel the steady beat of his heart through her fingertips, pressed against his shirt. The rhythm resounded all the way up her arm. "Just an imaginative drawing?" She was vaguely dissatisfied with the explanation. "There must have been some reason for making it."
"We do that sort of thing all the time."
She wasn't listening. "It looks like a miniature Eagle's Landing."
"You could call it that." He turned away from her as if to study the drawing himself, and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as if it hurt. "It doesn't matter now, so why not tell you? It's the house I was going to build for you."
She couldn't feel his heartbeat anymore, and it seemed as if her own had stopped cold.
"I was going to take the best of Eagle's Landing," he said softly, without looking at her, "and put it back together for you, solider and better and just the right size…"
I was going to, he'd said. He wasn't talking about now.
"The right size for us," he said, and smiled without humor. "It just goes to show, doesn't it, what a fool a man can be? At first all I wanted was to be rid of you. You were costing me time and effort and money and frustration."
The lump that had formed in Maggie's throat grew larger.
"And then you started costing me sleep and breath and peace of mind. Because, you see, I enjoyed you—sparring with you, out-maneuvering you, kissing you—more than I've ever enjoyed any woman."
Maggie stopped breathing. She seemed to have forgotten how.
"I thought the way we struck sparks off each other was no accident. I didn't see how I could be wrong about something so basic. But you didn't care, did you? You didn't want me around. You actively avoided me whenever you could. You even asked me to call before I came to Mother's house so you wouldn't have to see me—"
She shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I cared, Karr. I cared too much, and I was so afraid. I've always been alone, you see, all my life—even when I was surrounded by other people. And I was terrified that you didn't want me, and that if I let myself care for you I'd be even more alone—"
"No," he whispered against her lips. "I won't let that happen, Maggie my love. Not now. You will never be alone again."
She smiled a little. "It didn't work, anyway," she admitted. "Because I fell in love with you—"
And then there was nothing more to say, with words at least.
It was a long time later when he spread the floor plans out on the table and guided her through her new home, to be built on a lot he owned near Brenda's house. "It was your idea, really," he said.
"Mine? I never dreamed of such a thing—"
"When you suggested that I remodel it and move in myself, I starting thinking of the possibilities. Not of saving Eagle's Landing—I knew when I bought it that wouldn't be possible. But we could have the best of it, on a much more practical scale—the brick and slate, the oak floors and French doors and mantels. Even a top-floor office for you, so you'd have your tree house again—"
Maggie was almost crying.
"With all the bookcases you can use, and a gas log to curl up beside while you work, under the mantel we took out of your apartment. It's in a warehouse downtown."
Karr said, "along with the kitchen cabinets and that grapevine frieze, waiting till we need them." He held her a little distance from him. "Will you mind living in the townhouse in the meantime? It's going to take a long while to build the Eagle's Nest, I'm afraid."
"The Eagle's Nest," Maggie whispered, and smoothed the worried lines from his forehead with a gentle fingertip. "I'd live in a real nest, or in a tent, or in a condo, with you."
"What do you have against condos?"
"A deal that went wrong, a long time ago. It's nothing too important—not any more."
"Is that why you're so conscious of money?"
She nodded. "I was foolish, and I got burned."
"I knew it had to be something like that. Was it silly to want you to trust me enough to confide in me?"
She smiled up at him. "No. I think it's wonderful. And I'll tell you all about it-now, or whenever you like."
"Later, then," he said. "I've got better ideas for now."
After he'd finished kissing her, Maggie put her head down on his shoulder and looked at the drawing once more. "It's a big job. Can you pull it off, Karr? Because you don't have to, to prove you love me."
"Of course I can pull it off. I've done it before."
She frowned. "I know you renovated the old warehouse into the apartment block," she said, "but that's really not the same."
"This will be easier, in a way, than Mom's house was. She'd picked up pieces from all over creation, and fitting them together was really a jigsaw puzzle. At least I know right now what I've got to work with."
She blinked in surprise. "You built Brenda's house?"
"Yes. That wonderful example of how an old house can grow in beauty and value, I think you said it was." His tone was teasing.
Maggie sighed. "I guess I still have a lot to learn about your business."
"I thought you weren't ever going to interfere in it again."
"I won't interfere, exactly I'm just interested in—"
Karr gave a whoop of laughter, picked her up, and swung her gleefully around the room.
"In everything you do," Maggie finished firmly.
His eyes lighted. "Everything?" he said against her lips, and kissed her until she was too breathless and dizzy to do anything but cling to him, and agree.
The Only Man for Maggie Page 17
