by Nora Roberts
once, not once, come up to me and ask me if I'd like to spend some time with you. One word from you, one look from you, would have thrilled me. But oh, no, not Ethan Quinn, not with his broody mind and incredible control. You just kept your distance and let me pine over you."
"I didn't know you had those kind of feelings for me."
"Then you're blind as well as stupid," she snapped.
His brows drew together. "Stupid?"
"That's what I said." Seeing the outrage cross his face was balm to her battered ego. "I would never have looked twice at Jack Casey if you'd given me anything to hope for. But I needed someone to want me, and it sure as hell didn't appear it was ever going to be you."
"Now just a damn minute. I'm not to blame for you marrying Jack."
"No, I take the blame. I take the responsibility, and I don't regret it because it gave me Aubrey. But I blame you, Ethan." And those gold-flecked green eyes blazed with it. "I blame you for being too pigheaded to take what you wanted. And you haven't changed a damn bit."
"You were too young—"
She used both hands, and all the force of her temper went into the shove. "Oh, shut up. You had your say. Now I'm having mine."
in the kitchen, seth's eyes went hot. He made a dash for the door, only to be brought up short by Anna, who was eavesdropping as hard as she could.
"No, you don't."
"He yelled at her."
"She's yelling, too."
"He's fighting with her. I'm going to stop him."
Anna cocked her head. "Does she look like she needs any help?"
His mouth set, Seth glared through the screen. Then reconsidered when he saw Grace shove Ethan back a full step. "I guess not."
"She can handle him." Amused, she gave Seth a scrubbing pat on the top of the head. "How come you don't leap to my defense when Cam and I argue?"
"Because he's afraid of you."
Anna rolled her tongue into her cheek, enjoying the idea. "Oh, really?"
"Half afraid, anyway," Seth said with a grin. "He never knows what you'll do. And besides, you guys like to argue."
"Observant little brat, aren't you?"
He shrugged, cheerful now. "I see what I see."
"And know what you know." Laughing, she edged closer to the door with him, hoping for a better view.
"let's move to the next step, Ethan." Grace shoved the empty basket out of her way with her foot. "Fast-forward a few years. Think you can keep up?"
He took a long breath because he didn't want to yell at her again. "You're pissing me off, Grace."
"Good. I mean to, and I hate to fail at something I'm working on."
He wasn't sure which emotion came out on top, annoyance or bafflement. "What's gotten into you?"
"Oh, I don't know, Ethan. Let's see—could it be the fact that you think I'm some brainless, helpless female? Yes, you know…" She jabbed her index finger into his chest like a drill into wood. "I bet that's just what's gotten into me."
"I don't think you're brainless."
"Oh, just helpless, then." Even as he opened his mouth she was rolling over him. "Do you think a helpless woman can do what I've been doing the last few years? Do you think—what was it you called me once—delicate, like your mama's good china. I'm not china!" she exploded.
"I'm good solid stoneware, the kind you can drop and it rattles around on the floor. It doesn't shatter. You have to work to break good stoneware, Ethan, and I'm not broken yet."
She punched a finger into his chest again, darkly pleased when his eyes flashed a warning. "I wasn't so helpless when I got you into my bed, was I? Which is just where I wanted you."
"You didn't get me anywhere."
"Hell, I didn't. And you're brainless if you think differently. I reeled you in like a goddamn rockfish."
It gave her pleasure, oh, such vivid pleasure, to see both fury and frustration race over his face. "If you think a statement like that flatters either of us—"
"I'm not trying to flatter you. I'm telling you straight out, I wanted you and I went after you. If I'd left the matter up to you, we'd have been pinching each other's butts in a nursing home."
"Jesus, Grace."
"Just be quiet." There was no stopping now, whatever the consequences, not with this roaring sea crashing in her head. "You just think about that, Ethan Quinn. You give that some good long thought and don't you dare call me fragile again."
He gave her a slow nod. "It's not the word that's coming to mind at the moment."
"Good. I haven't needed you or anyone to help me build a decent life for my baby. I used muscle, and I used guts to do what needed to be done, so don't you tell me I'm china."
"You wouldn't have had to do it all alone if you weren't too damn proud to settle things with your father."
The truth of that put a hitch in her step. But she balled her fists and rushed on. "We're talking about you and me. You say you love me, Ethan, but you don't for one minute understand me."
"I'm starting to agree with that," he muttered.
"You've got some ego-ridden male idea in your head that I need to be taken care of, protected, coddled—when what I need is to be needed and respected and loved. And you'd know that if you paid attention. You ask yourself this, Ethan, who seduced whom? Who said 'I love you' first. Who proposed marriage? Are you so nearsighted you can't see I've had to take every step first with you?"
"You make it sound like you've been leading me by the nose, Grace. I don't care for that."
"I couldn't lead you by the nose if I jabbed a fish hook in it. You go exactly where you want to go, Ethan, but you can be so infuriatingly slow. I love that about you, and I admire it, and now I understand it more. You had a terrible period in your life when you had no control, now you take care not to lose it. But you can slip from control into stubbornness in one short step, and that's just what you've done."
"I'm not being stubborn. I'm being right."
"Right? It's right for two people to love each other and not build a life out of it? It's right to pay all your life for what someone else did to you when you were too young to defend yourself against it? Is it right for you to say you can't and won't marry me because you're… stained and you made some ridiculous promise to yourself never to have a family of your own?"
It sounded off when she said it like that. It sounded… stupid. "It's the way it is."
"Because you say so."
"I told you how it is, Grace. I gave you the choice."
Her jaw hurt from clenching it. "People like to say they've given somebody a choice when what they're really saying is'do this my way.' I don't like your way, Ethan. Your way only takes into account what was and doesn't add what is, or what could be. You think I don't know what you expected? You'd take your stand and sweet, delicate Grace would just fall in line."
"I didn't expect you to fall in line."
"Then crawl off, wounded, and pine after you for the rest of my life. You're getting neither. I'll give you a choice this time, Ethan. You straighten yourself out, you go on and think things through for the next eon or two, then you let me know what conclusions you've come to. Because my stand is this. It's marriage or it's nothing. I'll be damned if I'll spend the rest of my life pining over you. I can live without you." She tossed back her head. "Let's see if you're man enough to live without me."
She whirled around and stalked off, leaving him fuming.
"upstairs," anna hissed at Seth. "He's coming inside. Now it's my turn."
"Are you going to yell at him, too?"
"Maybe."
"I want to watch."
"Not this time." She all but shoved him out of the room. "Upstairs. I mean it."
"Hell." He stomped to the stairs, waited a moment, then slipped back down the hallway.
Anna was pouring herself a homey cup of coffee when Ethan slammed the back door. Part of her wanted to go over and give him a big, sympathetic hug. He looked so miserably unhappy and confused. But the way she figured it, ther
e were times when it was best all around to kick a good man when he was down.
"Want some?"
He flicked a glance at her and kept walking. "No, thanks."
"Hold it." She smiled sweetly when he stopped, when she all but saw the jittery waves of impatience shimmering around him. "I need to talk to you for a minute."
"I'm about talked out for the day."
"That's all right." Deliberately she pulled a chair out from the table. "You sit down and I'll talk."
Women, Ethan decided as he dropped into the chair, were the bane of his existence. "I guess I'll take the coffee, then."
"All right." She poured him a mug, brought him a spoon so he could dump his customary heaps of sugar into it. She sat, folded her hands neatly, and continued to smile.
"You stupid jerk."
"Oh, Jesus." He rubbed his hands over his face, left them there. "Not another one."
"I'm going to make it easy on you at first. I'll ask a question, you answer. Are you in love with Grace?"
"Yes, but—"
"No qualifications." Anna cut him off. "The answer is yes. Is Grace in love with you?"
"Hard to say just now." He shifted his hand to nurse the point on his chest where she'd all but bored a hole in him.
"The answer is yes," Anna said coolly. "Are you both single, otherwise unattached adults?"
He could feel himself sinking into a sulk, and detested it. "Yeah—so?"
"Just laying the groundwork, gathering the facts. Grace has a child, correct?"
"You know damn well—"
"Correct." Anna lifted her cup, took a sip of coffee. "Do you have feelings of affection for Aubrey?"
"Of course I do. I love her. Who wouldn't?"
"And does she have feelings of affection for you?"
"Sure. What—"
"Wonderful. We've established the emotions of the parties involved. Now let's move on to stability. You have a profession, and a new business. You appear to be a man with skill, who's willing to work and has the capability of earning a good living. Have you incurred any large, outstanding debts you believe you'll have difficulty meeting?"
"For God's sake!"
"No offense intended," she said brightly. "I'm simply approaching this matter the way I assume you would, calmly, patiently, step by tedious step."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Seems to me people are having major problems with how I do things lately."
"I love the way you do things." She reached across the table and gave his tense hand an affectionate squeeze. "I love you, Ethan. It's wonderful for me to have a big brother at this stage of my life."
He shifted in his chair. He was touched by the obvious sincerity in her eyes, but he had a feeling she was tenderizing him in preparation for the roasting to come. "I don't know what's going on around here."
"I think you'll figure it out. So, we'll say you're financially sound. Grace, as we know, is well capable of earning a living. You own your own home, and a one-third share in this one. Shelter certainly isn't an issue. So, we'll move on. Do you believe in the institution of marriage?"
He knew a trick question when he heard one. "It works for some people. Doesn't work for others."
"No, no, do you believe in the institution itself? Yes or no."
"Yes, but—"
"Then why the hell aren't you down on one knee with a ring in your big, clumsy hand, begging the woman you love to give your fat head another chance?"
"I'm a patient man," Ethan said slowly, "but I'm getting tired of insults."
"Don't you dare get out of that chair," she warned when he started to scrape it back. "I swear I'll belt you. God knows I want to."
"That's another thing that's going around." He subsided only because it seemed easier to get it all over with at once. "Go ahead then, say what you have to say."
"You think I don't understand. You think I can't relate to what's eating you up inside. You're wrong. I was raped when I was ten years old."
Shock jolted his heart, pain squeezed his soul. "Jesus, Anna! Jesus, I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"Now you do. Does it change me, Ethan? Aren't I the same person I was thirty seconds ago?" She reached for his hand again, held it this time. "I know what it is to be helpless and terrified and want to die. And I know what it is to make something of your life, despite that. And I know what it is to have that horror in you always. No matter how much you've learned, no matter how much you've come to accept it and know it was never, ever your fault."
"It's not the same."
"It's never the same, not for any two people. We have something more in common as well. I never knew who my father was. Was he a good man or a bad one? Tall or short? Did he love my mother, or did he use her? I don't know what parts of him were passed to me."
"But you knew your mother."
"Yes, and she was wonderful. Beautiful. And yours wasn't. She beat you, physically and emotionally. She made you a victim. Why are you letting her keep you one? Why are you letting her win even now?"
"It's me now, Anna. There has to be something twisted, something sour inside a person to make them the way she was. I came from that."
"Sins of the fathers, Ethan?"
"I'm not taking on her sins, I'm talking about heredity. You can pass on the color of your eyes, your build. Weak hearts, alcoholism, longevity. Those things can run in families."
"You've given this a lot of thought."
"Yeah, I have. I had to make a decision, and I made it."
"So you decided you could never marry or have children."
"It wouldn't be fair."
"Well, then, you'd better talk to Seth before too long."
"Seth?"
"Someone has to tell him he's never going to be able to have a wife and children. It's best if he knows that early, so he can try to protect himself from becoming emotionally involved with a woman."
For a trio of heartbeats he could only gape at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Heredity. We can't be sure what bad traits Gloria DeLauter passed down to him. God knows she's got something twisted inside her, just as you said. A whore, a drunk, a junkie, from all accounts."
"There's nothing wrong with that boy."
"What difference does that make?" She met Ethan's furious stare blandly. "He shouldn't be allowed to take chances."
"You can't mix him in with me this way."
"I don't see why. You both come from similar situations. In fact, there are far too many cases that come through social services nationally that slip into parallel categories. I wonder if we can pass a law to prevent children of abusers from marrying and having children of their own. Think of the risks we'd avoid."
"Why don't you just geld them?" he said viciously.
"That's an interesting concept." She leaned forward. "Since you're so determined not to pass on any unhealthy genes, Ethan, have you considered a vasectomy?"
The instinctive and purely male cringe nearly made her laugh. "That's enough, Anna."
"Is that what you would recommend to Seth?"
"I said that's enough."
"Oh, it's more than enough," she agreed. "But answer this last question. Do you think that bright, troubled child should be denied a full and normal life as an adult because he had the bad luck to be conceived by a heartless, perhaps even evil woman?"
"No." His breath shuddered out. "No, that's not what I think."
"No buts this time? No qualifications? Then I'll tell you that in my professional opinion, I couldn't agree with you more. He deserves everything he can grab, everything he can make, and everything we can give him to show him that he's his own person and not the damaged product of one vile woman. And neither are you, Ethan, anything but your own man. Stupid, maybe," she said with a smile as she rose. "But admirable, honorable, and incredibly kind."
She went to him, put an arm around his shoulders. When he sighed, turned his face to press it against her midriff, tears stung her eyes.
"I don't kno
w what to do."
"Yes, you do," she murmured. "Being you, you'll have to think about it for a while. But do yourself a favor this time, and think fast."
"I guess I'll go down to the boatyard and work until I get it clear in my head."
Because she was feeling suddenly maternal toward him, she bent and kissed the top of his head. "Do you want me to pack you some food?"
"No." He gave her a squeeze before he rose. When he saw that her eyes were damp, he patted her shoulder. "Don't cry. Cam'll have my head if he finds out I made you cry."
"I won't."
"Well, then." He started out, hesitated, then turned back briefly to study her as she stood in the kitchen, her lashes wet, her hair tangled from being out in the breeze. "Anna, my mother—my real mother," he added, because Stella Quinn was in his mind all that was real—"would have loved you."
Hell, Anna thought as he walked away, she was going to cry after all.
Ethan kept going, particularly when he heard Anna's sniffle. He needed to be alone, to clear out his head and let the thoughts gather again.
"Hey."
With his hand on the door, he looked over his shoulder and saw Seth on the stairs—where the boy had dashed like a skillful rabbit seconds before Ethan had started out of the kitchen.
"Hey what?"
Seth started down, slowly. He'd heard everything, every word. Even when his stomach had begun to pitch, he had stayed and listened. As he studied Ethan now, owlishly, he thought he understood. And he felt safe.
"Where you going?"
"Back to the boatyard. I got some things I want to finish up." Ethan let the door ease closed again. There was something in the boy's eyes, he thought. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Can I go out on the workboat with you tomorrow?"
"If you want."
"If I went with you, we'd finish sooner and be able to work on the boat with Cam. When Phil comes down on the weekend, we can all work on her together."