by Lynn Turner
“Master bedroom at the far end, dressing area and bath in the middle, and a combination office-study at this end,” Neil supplied softly at her back.
Lacey’s gaze traveled the length of the former attic, and she picked out the same tint of blue she’d seen in his hair, on the walls of the bedroom and dressing area. In the study end, where they were standing, the primed wallboard absorbed the rays of the late afternoon sun so that the whole area seemed to glow with golden light.
“I’d never have believed you could have done this,” she told him in awe. “This.. .suite—that’s the only word to do it justice—and the boys’ room and that kitchen I Neil, it’s all incredible, and all in two weeks!”
One of his arms circled her waist to pull her back against him. “And I’ve got the blisters and smashed thumbs to prove what a job it was, too,” he pointed out.
Lacey started, jerking against him. “You… I”
“Me,” he asserted with a touch of pride, “Oh, I won’t claim I didn’t have plenty of help, but I wanted to be able to say this was my house, that I’d invested more than just my hard-earned capital in it.”
His mocking reminder of her words the day he gave her the check for the farm brought quick color to Lacey’s cheeks. But she had been judging him by past performance, after all, relying on knowledge of him that was no longer valid.
Neil’s other arm came around her as he bent to lay his cheek alongside hers. “Have I proved myself yet?” he asked tenderly. Then, before she could answer, he seemed to switch subjects. “You know, this study area could be used as a bedroom, instead, if the lady of the house felt she needed the security of her own room.”
His deep voice was close to her ear, his warm breath fanning her cheek. Something inside Lacey seemed to crack. She almost felt a fissure appear in what remained of the protective shell she had built up around her heart over the years. Her head fell back to rest on Neil’s shoulder, and his hold tightened fractionally in immediate response. He was waiting for her to say something, to acknowledge the offer he’d made. His whole body was tensed against her back.
“If—” she stressed the word faintly “—there was a lady of the house, I’m sure she’d much rather share a room.. and a bed—” her voice faltered only slightly “—with the gentleman of the house.”
The last word had barely passed her lips before she was turned swiftly, roughly, in his arms. His mouth was hard, seeking hers urgently as his hands clasped her to him. Under seige, the crack widened, and a warmth streamed through it to suffuse every part of her. Lacey was acutely, intensely aware of his ffair-roughed legs as he wedged one knee between hers. The last shattered pieces of the shell disintegrated in the heat of her passion, which now equalled Neil’s. Her hands sought and found the opening of his shirt and shoved it aside, her fingers busily renewing their acquaintance with his warm, heavily matted chest. When he left her mouth for her throat Lacey moaned softly in protest.
“I know I gave you until tomorrow, and I heard that big ‘if,’” he murmured hoarsely as his hand wandered down her back to press her even closer, “but you can’t stop me from feeling encouraged.”
Hardly hearing him for the pounding in her ears, Lacey pushed against him in a blatantly sexual plea for fulfillment as she turned her head to blindly seek his mouth again.
“Oh, Lacey 1” The strain he was under showed as his grip tightened convulsively, and he gave in to temptation long enough to brand her lips in a hard, possessive kiss before dragging his mouth away. “The first piece of furniture I move in here is a king-size bed,” he growled against the side of her neck.
“I wish it was here now,” Lacey admitted breathlessly. “Oh, Neii, I want you. It’s been so long.”
The breath rushed from him and he shuddered violently, his arms nearly cracking her ribs in the fierceness of his response. Under her cheek his heart was racing out of control, but it beat no harder or faster than her own as one of her hands forced its way between their bodies to grasp him in an aggressive display of her very basic needs.
Fast losing his control, Neil suddenly twisted, clamping his hand over hers to press it hard against him; but then he was forcefully putting her from him, his breathing labored as he struggled to restrain himself.
“Come on,” he said harshly as he took hold of her hand. “If we stay up here we’ll both end up with splinters from the floorboards. “
He held Lacey close to his side, his hand curved to fit her hip as they started down the hall. When they reached the stairs he murmured, “The kids can have the tent tonight. We’ll drag our sleeping bags out under the stars.”
He didn’t look at her, and he hadn’t phrased it as a question. Nevertheless, Lacey ieaned her cheek against his chest, and her arm hugged his lean waist in silent agreement.
Once Neil and Lacey were outside again, the boys claimed Neil’s attention for help with cooking the hamburgers and hot dogs, and he released her with obvious reluctance. Lacey carried a folding lawn chair over to sit beside Bob, who was watching the threesome with a smile.
“He’s like a different man,” he remarked quietly.
This was her chance, Lacey realized, but instinct warned her to go slowly and cautiously. Bob was fiercely loyal to Neil, and if he suspected she was fishing for information, he would probably turn into the proverbial clam.
“Yes,” she nodded. “I never would have believed he’d be such a wonderful father. He never seems to run out of patience with them,” she added.
‘True, the old Neil Hartmann was notably lacking in patience and tolerance,” Bob said, “but then after what he’s been through, it’s no wonder he’s mellowed a little.”
Lacey conquered the impulse to ask outright what he meant by that. Slowly, she reminded herself, go slowly.
“He looks so much better than when he first came here,” she remarked thoughtfully. “He was so pale, and he looked exhausted. Now he’s as brown and fit as the boys, and did he tell you he’s been doing a lot of the work on the house himself?”
Bob nodded, his smile disappearing as a vaguely troubled look came into his eyes. “He did, and I told him I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea. I know the doctors encouraged him to exercise, but I’m afraid he might be overdoing it. You know Neil—he never does anything halfway.”
He glanced at Lacey, and when he saw how the color had left her face he was immediately contrite.
“Uh, oh. I’ve put my foot in it, haven’t! I didn’t mean to worry you, Lacey, I’m sure Neil knows his own capabilities better than anyone else. And with you around to keep an eye on him—well, a woman has ways of persuading her man to see reason that a doctor can’t use,” he added wi th a grin,
A numbing cold had begun to steal over her, and her heart thudded heavily in her chest,
“I didn’t know,” she said huskily. “Are you saying he shouldn’t exert himself at all?”
“Oh, no! No,” Bob repeated with a firm shake of his head. “Like I said, the doctors encouraged him to exercise, to build up his stamina again, but gradually. After all,” he added with a grim glance toward Neil, “his heart stopped completely during that stomach surgery, and then he had that episode of fibrillation while he was still in recovery. Scared the hell out of me, I don’t mind telling you. I was there when they slapped those paddles on his chest and sent that charge of electricity through him, and that’s something I hope I never have to witness again.”
CHAPTER NINE
Lacey felt light-headed. She was thankful she was already sitting down, because she knew her legs wouldn’t have supported her at that moment. Bob turned to her again, coming upright on the chaise and leaning forward in anxious concern when he noticed her shallow breathing and the stricken look in her eyes.
“Good Lord,” he muttered in sudden realization. “You didn’t know about any of that, did you?”
Lacey shook her head numbly. She closed her eyes and tried to force her chaotic thoughts into some kind or order. “Stomach surgery, you sa
id,” she whispered. “What kind of stomach surgery?”
Bob hesitated, then apparently decided he’d already said too much to avoid answering. “He had a perforated ulcer. That means—”
“I know what it means,” Lacey interrupted in a trembling voice. “Was it emergency surgery, or did his doctor have it scheduled ahead of time?”
Bob snorted. “Emergency, of course. He developed the first ulcer about seven or eight years ago, right after the two of you split.” He gave her a sharp, sympathetic look. “I don’t know the whole story, but I always assumed it had something to do with Jason
Trent and the ridiculous accusations he made to try and save his own hide. Anyway—” Bob’s voice became brisk again, “—true to form, Neil ignored all the advice about diet and cutting back on his work load. If anything, he worked harder than ever after you were gone. It was like the company was all he had left, the only reason he had to keep going. Then one day about nine months ago he started hemorrhaging during a staff meeting. We rushed him to the hospital, and they decided to operate immediately. Apparently he’d been bleeding internally for some time but didn’t even tell his own doctor about the symptoms.” Bob shook his head slowly, his eyes sad. “It was almost as if he had some kind of death wish,” he said under his breath.
He was looking at Neil again, and Lacey’s stunned gaze followed his. It was hard to believe the man so obviously enjoying his sons as they poked and prodded at hot dogs had come within a hair’s breadth of dying such a short time ago. A sudden chill raised goose bumps on her arms, though even under the shade of the oak tree it was unseasonably warm for late June. She had a sudden, vivid mental image of Neil lying in a hospital bed, tubes and needles invading his body and electronic monitors linking him to ugly machines as he fought for his life. Bob’s words about paddles and electric shocks returned to torture her imagination with another picture even more horrifying and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Lacey?” Bob’s anxious voice came to her from far away. She opened her eyes to find him sitting sideways on the chaise, bent toward her in an attitude of concern.
“He didn’t tell me,” she whispered. “He deliberately kept it from me.”
“He didn’t want you to worry,” Bob explained kindly, and Lacey shook her head in deniaL
“No. It was more than that.” There was a quiet certainty in her voice as her gaze returned to Neil.
Bob looked puzzied, but his voice was heavy with regret. “He’ll have my hide for telling you.”
“Don’t worry,” Lacey murmured. “I won’t let on that I know until after you’re gone.”
She remembered what Neil had said about spreading their sleeping bags under the stars tonight, and just as vividly remembered the furious pounding of his heart when desire had flared between them upstairs. He hadn’t told her because he knew she would fear for his health, and was afraid she wouldn’t be able to overcome it enough to let him make love to her again. With a sinking heart, Lacey admitted to herself that he was probably right.
Bob left shortly after seven, while there was still more than an hour of daylight left. The boys waved goodbye, then disappeared behind the house to work on their garden. Bob embraced Lacey affectionately when she and Neil walked him to his car, his eyes giving a reassurance he didn’t dare speak aloud. Lacey permitted Neil’s arm to remain around her waist until the rented car had pulled from the gravel lane onto the road beyond, and then she pried his hand away and walked out of his loose embrace toward the house.
Neil frowned at her withdrawal. “Having second thoughts?” he asked quietiy as they entered the kitchen. He settled into a white pine captain’s chair, extending a hand to Lacey to draw her onto his lap,
“Not the way you mean,” Lacey finally answered. Meeting his eyes, she instructed “Unbutton your shirt.”
Neil’s eyes started to warm with anticipation and his hand lifted, but then his expression suddenly froze as a wary look crept into them. “What have you got in mind7” he drawled, his fingers hesitating over the fourth button down from his neck.
“Maybe I just want to look at you.” lacey’s voice was husky, but not for the reason he might have thought. When his hand remained still, she reached for the button herself. Neil stopped her, his fingers curling around hers.
“Lacey,” he began, ‘There’s something—” He stopped abruptly, his eyes narrowing at her closed, almost hostile expression. “What is it?” he asked tersely. “You’ve been moody ever since we went back outside, when you sat down next to Bob—” He broke off, his eyes kindling with suspicion.
“Don’t stop now,” Lacey said. “What’s the matter, are you beginning to realize that good old Bob might have given away some of your secrets?” Her voice had gone hard in anger. “Take off your shirt, Neil. Let me see the scar. I want to see for myself what they did to you.”
‘That big blabbermouth I” he exploded. “I might have known he couldn’t keep his trap shut! Listen, Lacey—”
“I want to see,” she persisted, her voice low and throaty. “Is it so bad you have to hide it from me, is that it? Now I know why you were in such a hurry to put your shirt on when I got here. You should have told mel” She cried the last in a shaken voice, jerking her hand from his grasp.
Neil rose and put his hands on both sides of her face, framing it gently as he noticed the moisture shimmering on her lashes.
“It’s not that bad,” he said softly. “And I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d overreact, that’s all.”
Lacey wasn’t to be deterred. “If it’s not that bad, then let me see,” she insisted.
Neil hesitated for a moment, and then he quickly unfastened his shirt, his gaze never leaving her face.
“There. See—all healed,” he said briskly. He started to pull the shirt together again, but Lacey stopped him, her fingers trembling as they traced the neat, hard ridge of white scar tissue on his fiat brown stomach.
“Oh, Neil,” she whispered in a voice that quavered and nearly broke.
“No.” He took her hands away and put her arms around his waist, pulling her close to his chest. “Don’t, baby. It’s all right. That pesky little devil and the two others are completely healed. Listen, if you need proof, I helped demolish a large deluxe pizza just last night, remember?”
“Oh, no!” Lacey’s low, husky voice held dread. “With Italian sausage and pepperoni —”
“And anchovies and extra peppers, the way you like,” he added lightly. “And I didn’t even need an Alka Seltzer. Satisfied?”
She relaxed a little in his arms, then stiffened in anger. “You have to be insane to have eaten all that in the first place!” she accused, lifting her head to glare at him.
“And if I’d said, ‘Sorry, darling, but since they sliced away half my stomach I don’t tolerate spicy foods very well,’ how would you have reacted?” Neil queried her gently.
Lacey’s eyes glazed with horror, and she jerked against him reflexively.
‘Teasing!” Neil claimed when he saw how the thoughtless words had affected her. “Lacey, I was only teasing! Do you have to dramatize everything?”
“Me!” she choked, still not recovered from the shock of what he’d said.
“All right,” he relented with a sigh. “I could have phrased that a little more tactfully. But my point is, I couldn’t have refused to eat the pizza without making you suspicious, and as it turned out, it didn’t even give me a twinge of discomfort anyway. Now, will you promise not to worry?” He smiled down at her, his eyes soft and warm as his hands exerted gentle pressure on her back. “I promise, sweetheart,” he murmured huskily, “that scar over my breadbasket won’t hinder me in any way when I make love to you. And I want to. Oh, how I want to. I’m starved for you, darling.”
His lips coaxed hers to part, and then his tongue invaded her mouth, hard yet gentle in its slow, tantalizing exploration. Lacey’s fingers clutched the back of his shirt as she fought for sanity. There was something she needed to rem
ember, something important, some reason she mustn’t let him do this. But whatever the reason was, her brain refused to call it forth. Unaware of what she was doing, she pulled at his shirt until it was hanging from his arms, held on him only because they were wrapped so tightly around her.
Moving into the living room as if in a trance, they collapsed onto the soft divan, where Neil murmured, “There, that’s better,” as his hand slid around her back and his fingers found their way under the edge of her halter.
“Touch me, Lacey,” he asked, his voice rough with urgency. “Don’t hold back any longer. Please, darling.”
Her eager hands were only too willing to accede to his wishes. They reveled in the solid warmth of his lean back beneath her palms, rejoiced at the involuntary flex of his muscles. His strength was no longer something to fear, but a wonderfully integral part of his masculinity, both a contrast and a complement to her femininity.
It wasn’t until her hands strayed to his furry chest and felt the disturbed beating of his heart that memory—and with it fear—returned. She pulled out of his arms, her eyes wide with awareness, and jumped up.
“Lacey!” Neil started to reach for her, then stopped himself with an obvious effort, “I thought we’d gotten past that—that you weren’t afraid of me anymore,” he said in regret.
Lacey’s head jerked in denial. “I’m not.” Her voice was tight and strained, her breathing shallow.
Neil’s brow furrowed in confusion. ‘Then what is it? You are afraid—I can feel it, see it in your eyes.”
She tried to swallow and found that her mouth and throat were too dry. Fear was a cold vise inside her. “It’s your heart,” she managed in a feeble whisper,
Neil stared at her, his expression blank and uncomprehending for a moment. “My heart?” he echoed in bewilderment, and then understanding dawned and his eyes glinted with anger. “My heart,” he repeated in disgust. “Damn! Bob didn’t waste any time filling you in on my entire medical history, did he?” He swore again, more forcefully. “Lacey—” he rose, taking a deep, calming breath and placing his hands on her shoulders “—listen to me, darling. There is nothing, I repeat, nothing wrong with my heart. Understand?”