скачать книгу бесплатно
“Nothing. And everything.” Frustrated, she whirled back into the hallway to snatch up her coat. “I hate feeling stupid—hate being stupid. I don’t belong here. I shouldn’t have come.”
“But you did.” He grabbed her by her shoulders, so that her coat flew out to fall onto the bottom step. “Why did you?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter why.”
He gave her an impatient squeeze. “Why do I feel as if I’m having two conversations at the same time? What’s going on in that head of yours, Natasha?”
“I want you,” she said passionately. “And I don’t want to.”
“You want me.” Before she could jerk away, he pulled her against himself. There was no patience in this kiss, no persuasion. It took and took, until she was certain she could have nothing left to give. “Why does that bother you?” he murmured against her lips.
Unable to resist, she ran her hands over his face, memorizing the shape. “There are reasons.”
“Tell me about them.”
She shook her head, and this time when she pulled back, he released her. “I don’t want my life to change. If something happened between us, yours would not, but mine might. I want to be sure it doesn’t.”
“Does this lead back to that business about men and women thinking differently?”
“Yes.”
That made him wonder who had broken her heart, and he didn’t smile. “You look more intelligent than that. What I feel for you has already changed my life.”
That frightened her, because it made her want to believe it. “Feelings come and go.”
“Yes, they do. Some of them. What if I told you I was falling in love with you?”
“I wouldn’t believe you.” Her voice shook, and she bent to pick up her coat. “And I would be angry with you for saying it.”
Maybe it was best to wait until he could make her believe. “And if I told you that until I met you, I didn’t know I was lonely?”
She lowered her eyes, much more moved by this than she would have been by any words of love. “I would have to think.”
He touched her again, just a hand to her hair. “Do you think everything through?”
Her eyes were eloquent when she looked at him. “Yes.”
“Then think about this. It wasn’t my intention to seduce you—not that I haven’t given that a great deal of thought on my own, but I didn’t see it happening with my daughter sick upstairs.”
“You didn’t seduce me.”
“Now she’s taking potshots at my ego.”
That made her smile. “There was no seduction. That implies planned persuasion. I don’t want to be seduced.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. All the same, I don’t think I want to dissect all this like a Music major with a Beethoven concerto. It ruins the romance in much the same way.”
She smiled again. “I don’t want romance.”
“That’s a pity.” And a lie, he thought, remembering the way she’d looked when he’d given her a rose. “Since chicken pox is going to be keeping me busy for the next week or two, you’ll have some time. Will you come back?”
“To see Freddie.” She shrugged into her coat, then relented. “And to see you.”
She did. What began as just a quick call to bring Freddie a get-well present turned into the better part of an evening, soothing a miserable, rash-ridden child and an exhausted, frantic father. Surprisingly she enjoyed it, and made a habit over the next ten days of dropping in over her lunch break to spell a still-suspicious Vera, or after work to give Spence a much-needed hour of peace and quiet.
As far as romance went, bathing an itchy girl in corn starch left a lot to be desired. Despite it, Natasha found herself only more attracted to Spence and more in love with his daughter.
She watched him do his best to cheer the miserably uncomfortable patient on her birthday, then helped him deal with the pair of kittens that were Freddie’s favored birthday gift. As the rash faded and boredom set in, Natasha pumped up Spence’s rapidly fading imagination with stories of her own.
“Just one more story.”
Natasha smoothed Freddie’s covers under her chin. “That’s what you said three stories ago.”
“You tell good ones.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere. It’s past my bedtime.” Natasha lifted a brow at the big red alarm clock. “And yours.”
“The doctor said I could go back to school on Monday. I’m not ’fectious.”
“Infectious,” Natasha corrected. “You’ll be glad to see your friends again.”
“Mostly.” Stalling, Freddie played with the edge of her blanket. “Will you come and see me when I’m not sick?”
“I think I might.” She leaned over to make a grab and came up with a mewing kitten. “And to see Lucy and Desi.”
“And Daddy.”
Cautious, Natasha scratched the kitten’s ears. “Yes, I suppose.”
“You like him, don’t you?”
“Yes. He’s a very good teacher.”
“He likes you, too.” Freddie didn’t add that she had seen her father kiss Natasha at the foot of her bed just the night before, when they’d thought she was asleep. Watching them had given her a funny feeling in her stomach. But after a minute it had been a good funny feeling. “Will you marry him and come and live with us?”
“Well, is that a proposal?” Natasha managed to smile. “I think it’s nice that you’d want me to, but I’m only friends with your daddy. Like I’m friends with you.”
“If you came to live with us, we’d still be friends.”
The child, Natasha reflected, was as clever as her father. “Won’t we be friends if I live in my own house?”
“I guess.” The pouty lower lip poked out. “But I’d like it better if you lived here, like JoBeth’s mom does. She makes cookies.”
Natasha leaned toward her, nose to nose. “So, you want me for my cookies.”
“I love you.” Freddie threw her arms around Natasha’s neck and clung. “I’d be a good girl if you came.”
Stunned, Natasha hugged the girl tight and rocked. “Oh, baby, I love you, too.”
“So you’ll marry us.”
Put like that, Natasha wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “I don’t think getting married right now is the answer for any of us. But I’ll still be your friend, and come visit and tell you stories.”
Freddie gave a long sigh. She knew when an adult was evading, and realized that it would be smart to retreat a step. Particularly when she had already made up her mind. Natasha was exactly what she wanted for a mother. And there was the added bonus that Natasha made her daddy laugh. Freddie decided then and there that her most secret and solemn Christmas wish would be for Natasha to marry her father and bring home a baby sister.
“Promise?” Freddie demanded.
“Cross my heart.” Natasha gave her a kiss on each cheek. “Now you go to sleep. I’ll find your daddy so he can come up and kiss you good-night.”
Freddie closed her eyes, her lips curved with her own secret smile.
Carrying the kitten, Natasha made her way downstairs. She’d put off her monthly books and an inventory to visit tonight. More than a little midnight oil would be burned, she decided, rubbing the kitten against her cheek.
She would have to be careful with Freddie now, and with herself. It was one thing for her to have fallen in love with the youngster, but quite another for the girl to love her enough to want her for a mother. How could she expect a child of six to understand that adults often had problems and fears that made it impossible for them to take the simple route?
The house was quiet, but a light was shining from the music room. She set down the kitten, knowing he would unerringly race to the kitchen.
She found Spence in the music room, spread on the two-cushion sofa so that his legs hung over one end. In sloppy sweats and bare feet he looked very little like the brilliant composer and full professor of music. Nor had he shaved. Natasha was forced to admit that the shadow of stubble only made him more attractive, especially when combined with tousled hair a week or two late for the barber.
He was sleeping deeply, a throw pillow crunched under his head. Natasha knew, because Vera had unbent long enough to tell her that Spence had stayed up throughout two nights during the worst of his daughter’s fever and discomfort.
She was aware, too, that he had juggled his schedule at the college with trips home during the day. More than once during her visits she’d found him up to his ears in paperwork.
Once she had thought him pampered, a man who’d come by his talents and his position almost by birth. Perhaps he had been born with his talent, she thought now, but he worked hard, for himself and for his child. There was nothing she could admire more in a man.
I’m falling in love with him, she admitted. With his smile and his temper, his devotion and his drive. Perhaps, just perhaps they could give something to each other. Cautiously, carefully, with no promises between them.
She wanted to be his lover. She had never wanted such a thing before. With Anthony it had just happened, overwhelming her, sweeping her up and away, then leaving her shattered. It wouldn’t be that way with Spence. Nothing would ever hurt her that deeply again. And with him there was a chance, just a chance of happiness.
Shouldn’t she take it? Moving quietly, she unfolded the throw of soft blue wool that was draped along the back of the couch to spread it over him. It had been a long time since she’d taken a risk. Perhaps the time was here. She bent to brush her lips over his brow. And the man.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The black cat screeched a warning. A rushing gust of wind blew open the door with an echoing slam and maniacal laughter rolled in. What sounded like ooze dripped down the walls, plunking dully onto the bare concrete floor as the prisoners rattled their chains. There was a piercing scream followed by a long, desperate moan.
“Great tunes,” Annie commented and popped a gum ball into her mouth.
“I should have ordered more of those records.” Natasha took an orange fright wig and turned a harmless stuffed bear into a Halloween ghoul. “That’s the last one.”
“After tonight you’ll have to start thinking Christmas, anyway.” Annie pushed back her pointed black hat, then grinned, showing blackened teeth. “Here come the Freedmont boys.” She rubbed her hands together and tried out a cackle. “If this costume’s worth anything, I should be able to turn them into frogs.”
She didn’t quite manage that, but sold them fake blood and latex scars.
“I wonder what those little dears have in store for the neighborhood tonight,” Natasha mused.
“Nothing good.” Annie ducked under a hanging bat. “Shouldn’t you get going?”
“Yes, in a minute.” Stalling, Natasha fiddled with her dwindling supply of masks and fake noses. “The pig snouts sold better than I’d imagined. I didn’t realize so many people would want to dress up as livestock.” She picked one up to hold it over her nose. “Maybe we should keep them out year round.”
Recognizing her friend’s tactics, Annie ran her tongue over her teeth to keep from grinning. “It was awfully nice of you to volunteer to help decorate for Freddie’s party tonight.”
“It’s a little thing,” Natasha said and hated herself for being nervous. She replaced the snout, then ran her finger over a wrinkled elephant trunk attached to oversize glasses. “Since I suggested the idea of her having a Halloween party to make up for her missed birthday, I thought I should help.”
“Uh-huh. I wonder if her daddy’s going to come as Prince Charming.”
“He is not Prince Charming.”
“The Big Bad Wolf?” On a laugh, Annie held up her hands in a gesture of peace. “Sorry. It’s just such a kick to see you unnerved.”
“I’m not unnerved.” That was a big lie, Natasha admitted while she packed up some of her contributions to the party. “You know, you’re welcome to come.”
“And I appreciate it. I’d rather stay home and guard my house from preadolescent felons. And don’t worry,” she added before Natasha could speak again. “I’ll lock up.”
“All right. Maybe I’ll just—” Natasha broke off as the door jingled open. Another customer, she thought, would give her a little more time. When she spotted Terry, there was no way of saying who was more surprised. “Hello.”
He swallowed over the huge lump in his throat and tried to look beyond her costume. “Tash?”
“Yes.” Hoping he’d forgiven her by now, she smiled and held out a hand. He’d changed his seat in class, and every time she had tried to approach him, he’d darted off. Now he stood trapped, embarrassed and uncertain. He touched her outstretched hand, then stuck his own into his pocket.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“No?” She tilted her head. “This is my shop.” She wondered if it would strike him that she had been right when she’d said how little he knew her, and her voice softened. “I own it.”
“You own it?” He looked around, unable to hide the impression it made on him. “Wow. That’s something.”
“Thank you. Did you come to buy something or just to look?”
Instantly he colored. It was one thing to go into a store, and another to go into one where the owner was a woman he’d professed to love. “I just…ah…”
“Something for Halloween?” she prompted. “They have parties at the college.”
“Yeah, well, I kind of thought I might slip into a couple. I guess it’s silly really, but…”
“Halloween is very serious business here at The Fun House,” Natasha told him solemnly. As she spoke, another scream ripped from the speakers. “You see?”
Embarrassed that he’d jumped, Terry managed a weak smile. “Yeah. Well, I was thinking, maybe a mask or something. You know.” His big, bony hands waved in space, then retreated to his pockets.
“Would you like to be scary or funny?”
“I don’t, ah, I haven’t thought about it.”
Understanding, Natasha resisted the urge to pat his cheek. “You might get some ideas when you look at what we have left. Annie, this is my friend, Terry Maynard. He’s a violinist.”
“Hi.” Annie watched his glasses slide down his nose after his nervous nod of greeting and thought him adorable. “We’re running low, but we’ve still got some pretty good stuff. Why don’t you come over and take a look? I’ll help you pick one out.”
“I have to run.” Natasha began gathering up her two shopping bags, hoping that the visit had put them back on more solid ground. “Have a good time at your party, Terry.”
“Thanks.”
