by Neesa Hart
“How romantic.”
His lips twitched. “I was twenty-seven. I was finishing my career as a student, and just beginning my career in biochemical research. I had won a few fellowships. Leonard owned a small pharmaceutical firm. He thought I’d go places and take him, his company, and Mara with me.”
“Am I supposed to believe you fell into the woman’s clutches?”
He laughed again. “You’ve met her mother, what do you think?”
“I think you should have thought about the fact that you might have turned sixty and found yourself married to another version of Doris.”
He shuddered. “There’s a lovely thought.”
“It never occurred to you?” she asked in disbelief. “Come on, Eli. You observe things for a living.”
“Actually, it’s not as strange as you think. I was something of a science nerd in those days.”
She choked. “Are you kidding?”
“No.”
“Did you have plaid pants and a pocket protector?”
“It wasn’t that bad,” he acknowledged. “But I did wear horn-rimmed glasses.” He slanted her a knowing look. “Mara insisted that I have my vision surgically corrected.”
“I’m not sure,” she said slowly, “that you would have looked so bad in horn-rimmed glasses.”
“Thanks. I kind of liked them.”
“But you listened to Mara?”
“I don’t think I cared enough to argue. I’d been buried in a lab for years. I can at least thank Mara for teaching me how to function in the real world.”
Liza leaned back in her chair. “What went wrong?”
He shrugged. “Everything, and nothing. When things began to fall apart, there weren’t enough things about our relationship that were right to make it worth keeping.”
“Except Grace.”
He nodded. “Except Grace. I would have stayed in the marriage because of Grace, but Mara wanted out.”
“That can be stressful on a child—to hear her parents constantly fighting.”
“We didn’t fight that much. We didn’t actually do anything. Which was most of our problem. By the time we split, Mara and I had nothing in common but a good sex life.”
Liza blinked. “Really.”
He hesitated a minute. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I understand.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Eli drummed his fingers on the table. “Mara was—beautiful. She’d done some modeling before we were married, and wanted to keep on doing it. Which would have been fine, but having Grace changed her figure.”
“She quit getting work,” Liza guessed.
“Yes.” He studied his hands. “Mara had an artificial side that I failed to notice in the light of her, er, other assets.”
It was Liza’s turn to smile. “You said you’d been spending a lot of time in the lab when you met her.”
“A lot of time in the lab. Still—” he shrugged. “I was warned.”
“That’s what friends are for. Mine warned me, too.”
“But you did it anyway.”
“Some people have to learn things the hard way,” she acknowledged.
“It’s that lust for exploration I have.”
“For exploration?” she quipped. “Really?”
He grinned at her. “Be nice or I’ll quit spilling my guts.”
“You can’t stop now—not before the lurid details.”
“Did I happen to mention that I was a nerd in those days?”
“Is that your way of telling me there aren’t any lurid details?”
“Hmm.” He nodded. “The only lurid detail in the whole story is that if Mara hadn’t gotten pregnant with Grace, we might not have been married at all.”
“Oh.”
“I wasn’t that much of a nerd.”
“Evidently not.”
“Grace was born six months after Mara and I were married.” His voice softened at the thought. “If it weren’t for Grace, I might have real regrets.”
“That’s a lovely thing to say,” she said. “There aren’t a lot of people in your position who would feel that way about their children.”
“I mean it,” he assured her. “Mara wasn’t what I would have chosen for a wife. She couldn’t understand the pressure of research. She resented the time I spent at the lab.” He brushed his hand over the table. “To her credit, I could have done a better job at paying attention to her.”
“Your career was new. I’m sure you were under a lot of stress.”
“I was. But the more strained life became at home, the more time I committed to my work. Mara wasn’t well suited to staying home alone with an infant. It wasn’t what she’d planned.”
“What had she planned?”
“A high-society life to match the high-society wedding.” He couldn’t suppress a twinge of bitterness. “Researchers with no track record and nothing but a fistful of unproved theories don’t pull down enormous salaries. They work long hours for little or no recognition.”
“I’m sure.”
He shook his head. “I was as much to blame as she was though. I didn’t want to work at my marriage. It took me a while to admit it, but I didn’t even like Mara very much.”
“Does Grace know you felt that way?”
“I hope not.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, he released a long sigh. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about the possibility that my daughter is nervous about being with me because she senses I wasn’t exactly her mother’s biggest fan.”
Liza shook her head. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It worries me, but I don’t know what to do about it. Now that you’ve met the Paschells you can see why I’m not sure what she’s heard from them.”
“How much did they know about your relationship with Mara?”
His rough chuckle lacked humor. “They knew everything she told them—which I doubt was a very balanced perspective. I made sure, though, that they knew at least part of the truth. Before we were married Mara was extremely promiscuous. After Grace,” he shook his head, “I paid closer attention.” And he had. It had been the only rule he’d ever given Mara.
“She stopped?”
“As far as anyone knew—as far as I knew. I’m relatively certain that Mara didn’t have an affair after Grace was born. If she did, she was extremely discreet. I wouldn’t have tolerated that.”
“That’s certainly understandable.”
“I’m not sure, however, that Mara appreciated the fact that I wouldn’t allow it for Grace’s sake. Had I ranted about being jealous, she might have taken it better. It even took me a while to realize it, but I didn’t really care what Mara did. I just didn’t want Grace to see that—to know that about her mother. It gave Mara one more thing to resent about me.” He captured Liza’s gaze again. “We began a slow descent into marital hell shortly after Grace was born.”
“Grace is only ten. You hadn’t been married long.”
He shook his head. “Six months.”
Liza frowned. “Are you sure Grace is—”
“She’s mine,” he said with unquestionable finality.
“But how—”
“She’s mine,” he said again. He’d never questioned it, and never allowed anyone else to question it either. “Grace is my daughter. I know she is. And that’s all that matters.”
He drew a calming breath. “If this doesn’t work—” he shrugged. “If I can’t get through to her while we’re here, I don’t know what else to do. The Paschells are convinced that I made an enormous mistake in bringing her here.”
“You didn’t,” she assured him.
“They told me in that charming way of theirs that what Grace needs is to be around things that are familiar. Uprooting her, bringing her here—” he shrugged—“I took a big chance.”
“Grace needs you, not New York.”
“And I need her.” He shook his head. “I never realized how much until she came to live with me again. Havi
ng Grace back—it’s like walking out of a cell for the first time in years. I was in serious jeopardy of turning into a machine. She gives me a reason to feel things again. I can’t lose her.”
“You won’t,” she promised him. “This is my area of expertise, you know. I’ve seen hundreds of kids with problems every bit as complicated and difficult as your daughter’s. You’re doing the right thing, Eli. She just needs time to grieve.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”
“Trust me. We teach kids a lot more than academics and performing arts here. We help them find their way.”
Eli wrapped both hands around his mug. “Can I ask you another question?”
“Sure.”
He pinned her with his amber gaze. “I’ve been here two weeks now. People like to talk.”
“I’m pretty sure I warned you about that.”
A tiny smile teased the corner of his mouth. “I’ve had a chance to hear others confirm what I thought the night I watched you dance.”
She blushed, but didn’t look away. “Oh?”
“I didn’t ask. It’s like I told you, people talk.”
“There are a few members of the faculty that have been here as long as I have. They know I stopped dancing.”
“Do they know why?”
“No.”
“I’d like to know why.”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
He hesitated, wanting to press, but recognizing the need to back off. “All right.”
He saw the same flash of irritation in her gaze he’d seen the night before when he’d rolled out of bed. “This isn’t a game, you know? I’m not some oddity for you to play with while you’re separated from your research.”
Eli exhaled a long breath, then leaned forward. “Believe me, I’m not playing games. I want to know everything there is to know about you. I want you in my bed and in my life. I want to be your lover and your friend. It really isn’t very complicated.”
“It’s extremely complicated.”
“Because we don’t have any privacy?” he asked.
“No. That’s just part of the equation. You have a lot of baggage, and so do I. We aren’t twenty-year-old kids with no past.”
He reached for her hand. “I think I should probably explain something to you. Always in the past, I’ve pursued relationships the same way I pursue science. I’ve planned them, analyzed them, and approached them with methodical precision.”
“You really know how to knock a girl off her feet, don’t you?”
A grin slanted across his lips. “I think I’ve got knocking you off your feet down pat. It’s the rest that worries me.”
She groaned. “Have you always had this incredibly romantic streak?”
“I never claimed to be successful at this seduction thing.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
“With you,” he shrugged, “it’s different.”
She shook her head. “Maybe, but no matter what you think, I’m not one of your experiments. I’m not going to respond to the laws of science with the predictability of a chemical equation.”
“Actually, I’m kind of counting on that. It’s part of the appeal.”
“Great.”
He ignored that. “You’re shivering right now. Do you realize that?”
“I’ve had a very long day. It’s a delayed reaction.”
He smoothed one hand down her shoulder. The soft faded denim of her shirt glided beneath his fingers. It made him think of how her hair had felt twisted around his hands. “I like it,” he told her. “Shivering is a good thing.”
“That depends,” she said quietly, “on what’s causing it.”
He chuckled at that. “Chemistry. That’s what’s causing it.”
9
She hadn’t responded to that. She’d merely risen to leave, dumped the remains of her coffee in the sink, then told him she had to get ready for her meeting. He hadn’t tried to stop her.
He’d walked with her to the door instead, where he could kiss her good-bye in a way guaranteed to leave her thinking about him for the rest of the day. He’d struck a nerve when he’d asked her about her dancing, and even he could tell she needed time to recover from that—so he’d given it to her.
After she left, he’d tried to concentrate on the stack of papers Martin had sent for his perusal, but found his concentration turning repeatedly to Liza and the events of the previous evening.
With several hours of his in-laws’ accusations burned into his brain, he found it harder and harder not to wonder if they were right. The only time Grace seemed to open up to him was when she talked of her dance classes and of Liza. Eli had struggled with an irrational sense of jealousy when he’d realized Liza was reaching his daughter more successfully than he could.
Had he pushed her too hard by bringing her here?
Had he given her something to hide behind rather than dealing with the primary issue between them?
Had he expected too much and put her through too much by removing her from the environment she found familiar? She’d said she didn’t want to leave Breeland, but he could never be sure whether she meant what she said, of if she were merely seeking to please him.
Only when he talked with Liza did he feel his equilibrium return. Somehow, coming from her, the assurance that he’d done the right thing rang true. When he thought of how close he’d come to blowing it last night, he flinched. He wasn’t ready to lose the way she made him feel simply because of his own stupidity. It was the same feeling he got on the verge of an important discovery in the lab. There was something there, something no one else had seen.
He’d first recognized it when he watched her dance. Liza didn’t merely exist, as he’d begun to fear he did, she lived. Even the way she dressed, he thought with a slight smile, betrayed a vim he envied. Like his daughter, she had a penchant for loud colors, bold patterns, and aggressive combinations. Today, she’d had on a red leotard, under a tropical-print denim shirt tucked into purple trousers. Somehow, she managed to tie it all together.
Liza, he could almost believe, had a way of making just about anything work. Even his pleasure in his work couldn’t compare with the way he’d felt when he made love to her. That slight flush in her cheeks, that heightened sparkle in her eyes. It could become very, very easy, he suspected, to get addicted to that look.
He was still thinking about it the next morning when Grace entered the small study in the apartment. He was refiguring an equation for the third time—his concentration dimmed by memories of Liza—and didn’t hear his daughter until she coughed. His head snapped up. “Good morning,” he told her. “I didn’t think you were up yet.”
Grace’s shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “What are you doing?”
“Lesson plans,” he explained. “I’m going over my notes before class today.”
“Oh.” She edged closer to the desk. “Are you busy?”
Deliberately, he put down his pencil. “No. What’s on your mind?”
Grace shifted from one foot to the other. “There’s a girl in my class—her name is Beth.”
He pictured the talkative red-haired child who’d seemed attached to Grace’s side for the past week. “You sit next to her in my class,” he said.
“Yes. Do you like her?”
“I don’t know her very well. Do you like her?”
Grace hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m glad. You didn’t have many friends your age at home. I’m glad you’ve met some here.”
“So am I.”
He waited while his daughter visibly gathered her courage. He had to clench his fingers on the edge of the desk to keep from demanding she tell him why she found such a simple conversation so burdensome. “Beth wanted to know,” she finally continued, “if I could spend the night in her dorm room on Saturday.”
He stared at her. Grace had not, as far as he knew, even considered a casual relationship like that with
anyone since Mara’s death. “She did?”
“Can I?”
“Of course. Yes, of course.” He smiled at her. “I think you’d have a great time.”
Grace tilted her head. “You aren’t mad at me for wanting to stay there instead of here?”
“Of course not.” He silently prayed that she’d give him at least a hint of what she was thinking.
It wasn’t long in coming. “When Grandmother was here, she said that she wanted me to come home to visit her in New York this weekend, but that you said that you wouldn’t let me.”
He took a careful breath. He’d wondered how much Grace knew about the strain between him and his in-laws. More than he’d thought, obviously. “I thought we agreed you’d stay here with me for a while.”
“We did. That’s why I didn’t know if you’d let me stay in the dorm.”
“I’ll miss you if you stay in the dorm, but that’s not the same as a trip to New York.” He gave her a slight smile. “New York is too far. If you’re at the dorm, and I got really desperate, I could always kidnap you and bring you home with me.”
“Mama used to say—” she paused, then shook her head. “Never mind. Beth says she’s not sure she’s allowed to have someone stay over in the dorm.”
“We’ll have to ask. I’m sure we can work something out. If you can’t go there, maybe Beth can come here.”
Grace frowned. “I’d rather stay in the dorm.” She leaned a little closer to him. “Did you know that they stay up really late and paint each other’s fingernails sometimes?”
“You don’t say?”
“Yes. Beth says they’re supposed to have their lights out, but they use flashlights to see with.”
“I can see why that would be incredibly exciting.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “No, you don’t.”
He fought a smile. “Okay, you’re right. I don’t.”
“I still want to stay in the dorm.”
“We’ll work on it then.”
“Will you ask Liza if it’s okay? She’s in charge. If she says yes, it’ll be all right.”
“Yes.”
“Will you ask her today?”
“Yes.”
She hesitated a second longer, then beamed at him—the first genuine smile he’d seen on her face since she’d come to live with him. “Thanks, Dad.”
