At least he’d waited until they were alone to start his cross-examination. Nick was on the roof, stripping off the old shingles. It was Sunday morning, and Tony and Nick had been on her doorstep practically at dawn, a bag of fresh doughnuts and a huge, intimidating toolbox in hand. Her eyes had met Nick’s, then darted away as an unexpected thrill had coursed through her. She tried to recapture that sensation, so she could assess it rationally, but Tony was staring at her, waiting for her answer.
“He’s very nice,” Dana equivocated. Tony looked disappointed by the lukewarm praise.
Damn it all, the man was more than nice, she acknowledged to herself, even though she absolutely refused to acknowledge it aloud. Last night she had been rude and withdrawn without fully understanding why, but Nick had shown only compassion in return. She had sensed his struggle to understand behavior that must have seemed decidedly odd to him.
No doubt most women were eager for an involvement with one of the most powerful, eligible men in River Glen. At some other time in her life, she might have been one of them, but now that was impossible. She had nothing but trouble to bring to a relationship. And she knew as well as anyone that involvement always began with something as sweet and innocent as a kiss.
She’d given marriage a chance. Sam Brantley had been handsome, charming and brilliant—a real catch, as Betsy would say. There had been a classic explosion of chemistry the night they met, followed by a storybook courtship, then a lavish wedding and an idyllic honeymoon.
Dana had been twenty-three, only months away from receiving her master’s degree, but she had given up school willingly to help Sam meet the social obligations of a young lawyer on the rise in a prestigious New York firm. They were the perfect couple, living in the best East Side condo, spending much of their spare time with the right friends at gala events for the most socially acceptable charities.
It had been slightly less than a year before the reality set in, before the pressures of keeping up began to take their toll. By their first anniversary, their marriage was already in trouble. It took much longer to end it.
She closed her eyes against the rest of the memories, the months of torment that had turned into years. It was over now. The past couldn’t hurt her anymore unless she allowed it. And she wouldn’t. She had put it behind her with a vow it would stay locked away forever.
“Are you okay?” Tony’s brow was furrowed by a worried frown. “You look all funny.”
“I’m just fine,” she said as cheerfully as she could manage.
Tony looked doubtful but then plunged on with determination. “Then explain about my dad. If you think he’s nice, how come you didn’t kiss him last night? I know he wanted you to.”
Dana was torn between indignation and laughter. “Tony Verone, were you spying on us?”
“I wasn’t spying,” he denied, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. “Not the way you mean. Dad was gone a long time. I got tired of waiting in the car by myself. I decided to come check on him. That’s all. That’s not really spying.”
“Your father would tan your hide if he knew what you’d done.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” Tony said with absolute confidence. “He never spanks me. He says people should be able to talk out their differences, even kids and parents.”
It sounded as though he were quoting an oft-repeated conversation. The significance of Nick’s philosophy of discipline registered in a corner of Dana’s mind and she stored it away. She regarded Tony closely. “In that case, you’d be getting quite a lecture, wouldn’t you?”
Tony met her gaze with a defiant challenge in his eyes, then hung his head guiltily. “Probably.”
“Then I’ve made my point.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Now that that’s settled, why don’t you go inside and do your book report?”
“Okay,” he said a little too agreeably, getting up from the step and heading inside. He opened the screen door, then gazed back at her inquisitively. “You’re not really mad, are you?”
Dana smiled. “No, I’m not really mad.”
Tony nodded in satisfaction. “So, are you going to kiss him next time?”
“Tony!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said politely, but there was an impertinent glint in his eyes that reminded her very much of his father.
Dana had to turn her face away to hide her smile until Tony had gone into the house. The kid was something else. Would she kiss his father next time? What a question!
Well, will you? a voice inside her head nagged.
“No, dammit,” she said aloud, then glanced around quickly to make sure that no one had caught her talking to herself.
“Who are you talking to down there?” a voice inquired from above her head.
“I was just asking if you wanted something to drink,” she improvised hurriedly.
“Oh, is that what you said?” Nick’s voice was filled with amusement.
Maybe she should have a talk with him about eavesdropping. Then again, maybe there had been all too much talk around here this morning as it was.
She stepped out into the yard, then shielded her eyes from the sun as she scowled up at the roof. “Well, do you want something or not?”
He came to the edge, moving gingerly around the weak spots. Dana gazed at him and her breath caught in her throat. He’d stripped off his shirt as he worked and his tanned, well-muscled shoulders were glistening with sweat. Dark hairs swirled in a damp mass on his broad chest and narrowed provocatively down to the waistband of his jeans.
“I’d love some lemonade,” he said.
“I don’t think I have any,” she murmured in a distracted tone, fighting the surprisingly strong urge to climb straight up to the roof so she could run her fingers over his bare flesh. She hadn’t felt this powerful, aching need to touch and be touched in a very long time.
“I thought everybody had lemonade.”
“What?” she said blankly, forcing her eyes back to his. That was a mistake, too, because there was a very knowing gleam in their hazel depths.
“I said I thought everybody had lemonade,” he repeated tolerantly.
Dana clenched her fists, now fighting a desire not just to touch but to strangle the man. “Not me. Your choices are juice, iced tea, diet soda or water.”
“But I have a yen for…” His eyes roamed over her boldly before he added with slow deliberation, “Lemonade.”
“Nick,” she snapped impatiently.
He chuckled at her obvious discomfort, apparently enjoying the heightened color in her cheeks. “Send Tony to the store. He can run up there and back in fifteen minutes.”
“He’s inside, doing his homework. If you can’t live without lemonade, I’ll go.”
“Tony!” he called as though she’d never spoken.
The back door crashed open all too quickly and Dana got the oddest sensation that Tony had been waiting just inside. His refusal to meet her gaze as he stepped out to look up at his father virtually confirmed it.
“What do you need, Dad?”
“How about running to the store for me?” Nick climbed down the ladder, dug in his pocket and gave Tony some money and a list of provisions long enough to stock a refrigerator for a month.
When he’d gone, Dana glowered at Nick. “Why did you do that? I could have gone.”
“But then we wouldn’t have had a few minutes alone.” He stepped toward her. Dana held her ground, but her pulse began to race.
“A few minutes? It’ll take him the better part of an hour to get all those things. Are you planning to feed an entire army?”
“Just us. I’m very hungry,” he retorted, drawing the words out to an insinuating suggestiveness. “And I want to know, just as much as Tony does, why you didn’t kiss me.”
Dana swallowed nervously. “I don’t kiss men I don’t know well.” She sounded extraordinarily self-righteous and absurdly Victorian, even to her own ears.
“Who’s fault is it we don’t know e
ach other better? I’m trying to change that.” He took another step toward her. This time she backed up instinctively.
“Why did you do that?” he asked, and she could see he was more curious than angry.
“Do what?”
“Move away from me.” A frown knit his brow. “Do I frighten you?”
“Of course not.”
“Liar,” he accused gently. “I do, don’t I?”
“Don’t be absurd.”
He stood perfectly still, like a hunter waiting for his prey to be disarmed and drawn into his range. “Then let me kiss you, Dana.”
His voice was a quiet plea that set off a violent trembling inside her. He wooed her with that voice.
“Dana, I’m not going to hurt you. Not ever.”
There was so much tenderness in his voice. It touched a place deep inside her and filled her with unexpected warmth. Her eyes widened in anticipation, but he didn’t move.
Finally, he sighed. “Someday, I hope you’ll believe me.”
His hand trembling, he brushed his knuckles gently along her cheek, then started back up the ladder. After he’d turned away, her hand went to her cheek and stayed there. With unwilling fascination, she watched the bunching of his muscles as Nick reached over his head to pull himself onto the roof. She heard the hammering begin again, and then, finally, she went inside, her knees as weak as if she’d just escaped from some terrible danger.
And she had. Nick Verone was getting to her. She could deny it all she liked. She could hold him at arm’s length, but she knew perfectly well what was happening between them, and for the first time she began to sense the inevitability of it. She almost regretted not letting Nick kiss her now, not getting the agony of anticipation over with.
His backing off, however, both puzzled and pleased her. She had no doubt that Nick desired her. She’d seen the rise of heat in his eyes. But his willingness to wait told her quite a lot about his character and his patience. If they were ever to have a chance, he needed to have both.
To Dana it was soon apparent that Nick had more character than patience. Oblivious to her determination to avoid a relationship—or simply choosing to ignore her wishes, which was more likely—Nick Verone persisted in his pursuit throughout the following week. She had to give him credit. He was subtle and wily and he wasn’t one bit above using Tony as his intermediary. He’d sensed that Tony was her weakness, that she would no more see the boy hurt than he would. It was Tony, as often as not, who suggested a drive in the country after the library doors were closed for the day. Or the fishing after Nick had spent an hour or two working on the roof. Or the twilight picnics on the beach.
With Tony along, she began to relax. By the end of the week she found that she was enjoying herself, smiling more frequently, laughing more freely, no longer frightened by shadows. She was actually disappointed when neither of them suggested an outing for the weekend.
On Saturday morning, feeling thoroughly disgruntled and furious because she felt that way, she pulled on her dirt-streaked gardening shorts and tied her sleeveless shirt just under her breasts. As soon as she’d finished her coffee, she went outside to tackle the thick tangle of weeds in the bed of tiger lilies. Sitting on the still damp grass, she yanked and grumbled.
“So, you don’t have plans for the weekend. Big deal. You’re the one who doesn’t want to get involved.”
The bright tiger lilies trembled in the stiff breeze coming off the river, but whatever opinion they might have had, they kept to themselves.
“Not talking, huh? That’s okay. I can keep myself company.” Had it been only a week ago that she’d craved being alone? Had it taken so little time for Nick to overcome her caution and become a welcome part of her life? “You made a humdinger of a mistake last time, Dana Brantley. Don’t do it again.”
“Talking to yourself again?” Nick inquired softly.
Dana’s head snapped around so quickly she almost got whiplash. “Where do you have your car’s engine tuned? Your mechanic must be a genius. I didn’t even hear you drive up.”
“No car,” he said, pointing to the very obvious bike he was holding upright by its handlebars. His gaze traveled slowly over her, lingering on the expanse of golden skin between her blouse and shorts. “Nice outfit.”
“You commented on it before. I believe you referred to it as my farmer look.”
“I take it back. You’re prettier than any farmer I ever saw, though I know a couple of farmers’ wives who’d give you a run for your money.”
“I’ll just bet you do.”
Nick pulled the bike onto the grass and laid it on its side, then headed for the house. Dana stared after him in exasperation. He was doing it again, just dropping in and taking over as though he belonged. One of these days they were going to have a very noisy confrontation about his behavior.
“Where are you going?” she inquired testily.
“To get some coffee. You have some made, don’t you?”
“Of course, but…”
He was out of sight before she could finish her protest. “Back in a minute,” he called over his shoulder.
Sparks flashed in her eyes, but just as she was about to stand up and go storming in the house after him, he shouted out, “Hey, do you want any?”
“Nice of you to ask,” she grumbled under her breath. She peered in the direction of the kitchen and called back, “No.”
She yanked a few more weeds out of the ground and tossed them aside with more force than was necessary. A colorful variety of names for the man now in her kitchen paraded through her mind. “Why don’t you speak up and tell him he’s driving you crazy?” she muttered aloud.
But she knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t face the potential explosiveness of angry threats, the tension that made your heart pound, even the mild stomach-churning sensation of seeing control slip away.
“How long are you planning to be at that?” Nick suddenly inquired, hunkering down beside her.
Dana jumped a good three inches off the ground. “Dammit, Nick. Stop sneaking up on me.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t look one bit sorry. “What’s on your agenda for the day?”
“I don’t have an agenda.” She paused thoughtfully. “Do you know this is practically the first time in my life I can say that? First it was ballet lessons, then gymnastics, then piano. By the time I got to high school, it was cheerleading, half a dozen clubs and tennis lessons. College was more of the same and my marriage was a merry-go-round of luncheons and dinner parties and bridge. I don’t think I ever had ten unscheduled minutes until I moved here.”
“Good, then you can come with me.”
Dana regarded him warily. “Where?”
“I thought we might go for a long bike ride.”
“Don’t you have things to do?”
“Nothing that appeals to me more than spending the day with you.”
“Where’s Tony?”
“He’s at a friend’s.” He draped his arm casually over her shoulders and squeezed. “It’s just you and me, kid.”
The phrase reverberated through her head and set off warning signals, but that was nothing compared to the skyrockets set off by his touch. She started to look at Nick but realized he was much too close and turned away. She’d have been staring straight at his lips and she had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to hide her fascination with them. Ever since she’d avoided his kiss after bingo and again on Sunday, she’d been wondering what his lips would have felt like, imagined them brushing lightly across her mouth or kissing the sensitive spot on her neck, just below her ear.
“I don’t have a bike.”
“No problem. You can borrow Tony’s.”
“I haven’t ridden in years.”
“It’s something you never forget.”
“But my legs are in terrible condition.” Nick’s dubious expression as his eyes traveled the length of said legs almost made her laugh, but she rushed on. “I wouldn’t make it around the block.”
“We’ll only ride until you get tired.”
“If we ride until I can’t go any farther, how will we get back?”
“Hopefully you’ll have the good sense to complain in front of some nice, air-conditioned restaurant so we can have lunch while you recuperate.”
“We may need to have dinner and breakfast before that happens.”
“I can live with that,” he said with a dangerously wicked sparkle in his eyes. “Just be sure to collapse in front of an inn.”
Dana laughed, suddenly feeling a carefree, what-the-hell sensation ripple pleasantly through her. It had been a long time since she’d done anything on the spur of the moment. “I give up. You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
“I am a very determined man,” he replied so solemnly that her heart raced. She avoided his clear-eyed, direct gaze as she got to her feet.
“Let me take these weeds to the garbage and change. Then I’ll be all set.”
“I’ll take the weeds. You go and get dressed.”
A half hour later, after a wobbly start on Dana’s part, they were on the road. Once she got the hang of riding again, it felt terrific. The spring sun was warm on her shoulders, the breeze cool on her face.
“This is wonderful,” she called out to Nick, who was riding ahead of her past a huge brown field that was dotted with corn seedlings. He dropped back to ride beside her.
“Aren’t you glad I didn’t pay any attention to your excuses again?”
“Very.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why do you need the excuses in the first place? Do you really want me to back off?”
Dana’s heart thudded slowly in her chest. She met Nick’s curious gaze and her pedaling faltered. She caught herself just before the bike went out of control. Staring straight ahead, she finally said, “It probably would be for the best.”
“Best for whom? Not for me. I’ve enjoyed being with you the past few days. It’s been a long time since I felt this way.”
“What way?”
He seemed to be searching for words. The ones he found were eloquent. “As though my life was filled with possibilities again. When Ginny died, I didn’t think I’d ever care for another woman. We’d had a lifetime together and that was important to me. We’d played together, tended to each other’s cuts and bruises, gone to school together. We’d grown up together. There were no secrets, no surprises. We were blessed with love and understanding and we were blessed with Tony.”
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