Then she'd frozen up and treated him as if she were an untouchable angel who didn't even know how babies were made. You can't get much more amateurish than that, she thought.
The sound of his voice jarred her back. "Eve, answer me. You promised you would, and I have to know. Have you ever…been with a man before?"
She hung her head. "No, I haven't, I'm sorry—"
"Sorry!" he exclaimed. "What do you have to be sorry about?"
"I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment. I led you on and then freaked out at the last minute."
He put his fingers under her chin and lifted her face. "And why did you do that?" At least he didn't seem to be mad.
She couldn't avoid looking at him. He had her head angled so that her gaze merged with his. "I don't know. I—I didn't mean to. I wanted to make love with you, but something just paralyzed me. Oh, Gray, I'm so ashamed."
A low moan escaped from his throat and he wrapped her tenderly in his arms. "I'm the one who is ashamed. I had no business getting involved with you, no matter how strong my own feelings were. I've known all along you were too young. You're hardly more than a kid—"
She pulled away and glared at him. "I knew you were going to say that, and it's not true. I'm twenty-four years old, well-educated, and support myself. I've been dating boys and men since I was fifteen, and I'm a virgin by choice, not because I've been locked up in a convent."
Eve detected the amused half smile on Gray's face before it disappeared. "I don't doubt that for a minute," he said, and gathered her to him again. "I can feel for all those guys you've been turning away, even though the thought of anyone else touching you, intimately or not, makes my blood boil."
"Then what's the problem?" she asked. "Don't you want me anymore, now that you know I'm not as experienced as the other women you've known—in the biblical sense, that is."
His arms tightened around her. "Of course, I want you. I suspect I'll never get over wanting you, but I'm not a cradle robber—"
She reared back once more. "Now don't start that again," she warned angrily.
He caught her by the shoulders and held her in place. "Eve, I'm thirty-six years old, a middle-aged man. I've been married, divorced, and have an eight-year-old daughter. I'd never forgive myself if I robbed you of your innocence."
"I told you, I'm not all that innocent," she insisted. "I know what goes on between a man and a woman. Just because I haven't experienced it yet, doesn't make me untouched."
He loosened his hold on her shoulders, and caressed them gently. "It makes you special," he murmured softly.
"It means you've been saving yourself for that one special man in your life, preferably your husband."
"Now you sound like my dad," she grated, then immediately regretted it.
"That's because your dad and I are more or less of the same generation," he explained. "I'm certainly old enough to be your uncle, if not your father."
"But why is that so important to you?" she asked, still not understanding. "As long as we want each other, what difference does age make?"
"The problem is that all I'm willing to promise you is a loving but uncommitted relationship that either of us can walk away from at any time," he pointed out. "But you want marriage and children and happy ever after."
It irritated her that he seemed to be able to read her mind. "What makes you think you know what I want?" she snapped.
He smiled sadly. "Sweetheart, the very fact that you haven't been willing to have sex with the men you were attracted to is a dead giveaway. You must have been up against a lot of pressure to put out. If I violated you, your trust, just because I have the hots for you, then later walked away and left you with nothing—no children, no security—I'd be damned by my own selfishness. I can't do that to either of us, Eve."
"So are you saying you don't want to see me anymore?"
"Not 'don't want,' but 'don't dare.' There's no way I could think of you as a sister, or as just another date. It's better that we don't see each other socially, but we'll run into each other now and then. After all, we'll be working together on the school roofing project once it gets off the ground."
"And Tinker? Don't you want me to tutor her anymore?"
He frowned. "Ah, yes, Tinker. I'd forgotten about that complication."
He was thoughtful for a moment, then asked. "Will you give me a few days to think about it? I doubt she'll be up to studying this week, anyway."
This conversation was becoming painful for Eve; her head began to ache. After all, he was right about one thing. She didn't have to apologize for her virginity, and she wasn't going to again. If he thought she wasn't experienced enough to satisfy him, he was probably right.
"Take as much time as you want," she said. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd not give Tinker the impression that I would just quit because I didn't want to work with her anymore. That could be very damaging—"
"Honey, I'd never do that," he assured her. "Now, is there anything you need before I leave?"
Yes—you, here in my bed loving me.
"No, nothing," she said, and scooted down so she was lying flat. "Would you please turn off the light in the kitchen when you go out?"
"Sure." He leaned down and kissed her softly on the cheek. "Good night."
She curled up in a tight ball under the covers, and listened while he flipped off the kitchen light, then shut the front door that locked automatically behind him.
It was only then that she released the gush of tears and let them soak her pillow.
Eve didn't hear from Gray again, and as the days went by she suspected he was intent on breaking all ties with her, including her tutorial relationship with his daughter. She'd called the hospital on Tuesday to ask about Tinker, and had been told that the girl had been released, so at least Eve knew the youngster was healing and no longer needed constant medical supervision.
Still, Eve was apprehensive about Tinker's well-being. Had Gray taken her home to his house from the hospital, or had he backed down and let Bambi have their daughter part-time again?
Eve didn't trust Bambi, and was pretty sure Gray didn't either. But some women could wrap men around their little fingers and seduce them into giving them anything they wanted. She suspected Bambi was one of those.
Eve had been watching Gray's weathercasts, and knew he hadn't missed a day. She remembered that he'd told her he had a cousin who could baby-sit Tinker for a couple of weeks. So the fact that he was working didn't necessarily mean Bambi had Tinker. But had he found someone to replace his cousin?
The phone rang early Saturday morning, and to Eve's joyful surprise it was Tinker. "Daddy and I are going over to Mount Rushmore and we want you to come along. Please," Tinker said, getting right to the point.
Eve's insides melted, and her whole being longed to accept the invitation. But she suspected this was Tinker's idea, not Gray's.
"Honey, does your daddy know about this?" she asked.
"Sure," Tinker answered. "He said it was okay. We're gonna take a picnic an' everything."
After the way they'd parted last, and then all this time without a word from him, Eve found it difficult to believe Gray would invite her to spend the day with him and his daughter.
"Let me speak to your daddy," Eve said. She had to know that he approved.
She could hear Tinker call to Gray and tell him that Eve wanted to talk to him.
"Hello, Eve." His tone was husky.
"Hello, Gray," she answered. "Were you aware of what Tinker was talking to me about?"
He cleared his throat. "Yes. She wants you to come to Mount Rushmore with us."
"Do you want me, too?" She wasn't aware of the double meaning until the words were out of her mouth.
"That's a loaded question, love," he rasped, "and the answer is yes—no matter which way you take it. Besides, I need to talk to you."
"Well, if you're sure, I'd love to go. What time will you pick me up? Do you want me to bring something for the picnic?"
"
Just yourself, and we'll be there in about an hour. Is that too soon?"
How could it be too soon, when she hadn't been near him for a whole week and was desperate for the sight of him? "No, that's fine," she assured him, and hung up.
It was a beautiful June morning, bright and warm with sunlight. Eve was tempted to wear shorts, but that would be too obviously seductive. She didn't want Gray to think that she was teasing him, deliberately tempting him to do or say things he didn't want to.
No, she wasn't going to throw herself at him ever again. If he didn't care enough for her to marry her, it would be folly to force him into making that commitment by stirring up his testosterone beyond his ability to resist. He'd always feel trapped, and she'd always feel guilty.
Instead, she wore red jeans and a red-and-white striped T-shirt with white sneakers, and tied her black hair back with a white scarf.
She'd just finished her makeup when the doorbell rang. Her heart started to pound and her stomach muscles clenched as she hurried to the door and opened it.
She drew in her breath as she stood face to face with Gray. Either of them could have reached out and caressed the other. She could have walked into his arms, and she knew he would have hugged her to him. He could have sauntered into the house, swooped her up in his embrace and carried her to the bedroom, and she wouldn't have protested. But neither of them acted on their feelings.
For a few minutes they just stood there looking at each other, and it was Gray who finally spoke. "You're very beautiful." His tone was low and vibrant.
"So are you," she murmured, then realized men aren't called "beautiful".
"That is—you're a very handsome man." she amended, embarrassed.
He was wearing blue jeans and a gray T-shirt, but no matter what he wore—suits, slacks or jeans—he always looked fabulous.
She was still struggling to regain her composure when she realized something was missing. "Where's Tinker?" She poked her head out the door to look up and down the balcony.
"She's in the car," he said. "I wanted to talk to you for a minute alone."
Her curiosity was aroused, and she stepped back. "Won't you come inside?"
He shook his head. "No, this will just take a minute. Eve, I'd like you to continue tutoring Tinker."
She was delighted and opened her mouth to tell him so, but he hurried on before she could. "You've been doing such a great job, and she wants you. So far I've let her think it was because of her injury that the lessons have been suspended, but she's eager to start again Monday. That is, if it's all right with you."
"I'd be happy to go on working with her, Gray," she assured him. "But are you sure…? That is, you said—"
"I know what I said," he interrupted, "and it still stands. It will be extremely difficult for me to be in the same house with you and not touch you, but I should be able to control myself for a couple of hours a day, five days a week."
"Besides, I won't be there very often. I need to spend more time at the station tracking the weather and keeping up-to-date on new equipment. I promise I won't get in your way."
She wondered if he knew just how badly she wanted him to get in her way—to be around all the time, to tease her, to love her.
"Okay then," she said as lightly as she could manage. She closed and locked the door. "We'd better be on our way."
A short while later they approached the tiny community of Keystone, which was not only the gateway to the Mt. Rushmore Monument, but a rugged historical mining town in its own right.
As Gray concentrated on navigating the corkscrew road to the top of Iron Mountain, Eve and Tinker enjoyed the stunning views through the rocks and trees.
"My class at school came here once last year," Tinker said, "but it was boooring."
Surrounded by all this natural beauty, Eve found that hard to believe. She never failed to find it thrilling. "Why was it boring, honey? The heads of the presidents is one of the largest pieces of sculpture ever created. You're very fortunate to live in its shadow and to be able to see it whenever you want to."
Tinker shrugged. "But people already know about them. Why do we have to study them?"
Eve smiled. "I suppose that's true of the folks who live around here, but to most of the people in the world, carving gigantic faces out of stone on the side of a mountain is an astounding project. Millions of tourists come from thousands of miles away to see it."
Tinker looked at her wide-eyed. "Really?"
"Yes, really," Eve assured her. "A famous sculptor named Gutzon Borglum was chosen to carve the heads—"
Tinker laughed. "That's a funny name."
"Not funny," Eve corrected her gently, "just different from the ones you're used to. It took him almost twenty years to complete it."
"How did he get up there?" Tinker asked. "And how did he keep from falling off?"
Eve looked beseechingly at Gray, and he picked up his cue without hesitation. "It was done with machinery, honey. Tall cranes with seats that the workers were strapped into so they had both hands free to work on the faces."
Tinker wrinkled her nose in puzzlement. "What workers? You said that man with the funny name made the faces."
Gray raised his eyebrows at Eve in a gesture of frustration, but forged ahead. "Mr. Borglum was the man who drew up plans for the heads and figured out how to carve them, but he had helpers who did the actual blasting and chiseling," Gray said carefully.
They spent the rest of the morning viewing a film about the sculpting of the faces and exploring the national monument. They had a slight change of plans at noon, because both Gray and Eve had forgotten that there was no picnicking allowed within the memorial grounds, but there was a restaurant with a spectacular view of the heads and they had lunch there.
In the afternoon, they took a ride on one of America's last steam trains: the 1889 train. Old Baldwin engines and 19th-century coaches provided a two-hour trip along a route that miners and pioneers used to explore the Black Hills.
Eve was tired but happy when Gray brought her back to her apartment, but then things got awkward. Gray insisted on walking her to her door, but it was raining hard and neither of them wanted Tinker to get wet. Obviously he wouldn't come in and leave Tinker in the car. But Eve wondered if he would kiss her good-night. That seemed highly unlikely. Would they shake hands? That idea bordered on the absurd considering their degree of intimacy the last time they were together.
Gray seemed as unprepared to handle the situation as she, and they finally ended up making a mad dash to her door, thanking each other for a great time, and saying good-night…without touching.
During the following week, Eve went to Gray's house every afternoon to tutor Tinker, but she saw him only to say "hello" and "goodbye." The rest of the time he was holed up in his office, unless he was interrupted by business errands.
It was frustrating and beginning to wear on her nerves. She felt like an untouchable who was to be avoided except when she was performing her assigned duties, then she was to leave as quickly as possible.
Tinker offered quite a bit of unsolicited information, such as that she was still living with her dad, and that Gray and Bambi "yelled at each other a lot." What a strained atmosphere for a little girl to have to endure, Eve thought.
Meanwhile Gray was going through his own brand of hell. By far, the worst was his estrangement from Eve. It was torture to have her in his house for a couple of hours a day and not be able to acknowledge her presence.
And Bambi was being especially uncooperative and obnoxious. It started when she discovered that he really had reduced her spousal support. Although both he and his lawyer had told her he was going to, she apparently hadn't believed he'd do it until that day she'd called him at his office.
Bambi called the house every day and talked to Tinker, but when she asked for Gray, he always found an excuse not to talk to her. Then she started calling him at the station when she knew he'd be there, but he'd asked the operator not to put her through. He managed to
avoid her until Friday, when she rang the station and told the operator it was an emergency.
The operator told Gray, and he immediately thought of Tinker. Had something happened to her that her babysitter couldn't handle?
He had the call put through. There was no way he could avoid it. "What's the matter, Bambi? Is Tinker all right?"
"How would I know?" she snapped. "You won't let me near her. Honestly, Gray, if you cared just a fraction as much for me as you do for your precious daughter, our marriage never would have broken up."
That was truer than she could even imagine, he thought as he fought back his smoldering ire. She'd deliberately used his love for Tinker again to get what she wanted from him.
"You said there was an emergency, so what's happened?" he grated.
"You know very well what's happened." The little girl tone of her voice was gone, replaced by grown-up rage. "I tried to use my credit card to buy a dress at Suzanne's, and the store wouldn't accept it. They said my name had been taken off it or some such nonsense. Just what in hell are you up to?"
"I'm not up to anything, Bambi," he said quietly. "I told you that I'd no longer pay you as much spousal support. That includes access to my credit cards. After our divorce, I was no longer compelled to let you use them, but as long as you didn't run up big bills I didn't take your name off them. I have now, though. The ones you have are invalid. You'll have to apply for your own, if you want some."
"But I can't," she wailed. "I don't have enough income."
"Then go to work like the rest of us, and earn your own support," he said sharply. "You're a smart woman. You worked and made a decent income before we were married. There's no reason why you can't do it again."
"You're just being hateful," she said on a sob. "You know I can't hold down a job. I have a daughter to look after."
He took a deep breath. So she was deliberately ignoring the fact that he intended to sue for full custody of Tinker. Well, he wasn't going to get into that now.
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