Lori Foster Read online

  She realized she was staring at him stupidly and blushed. “You’ve been outside?”

  “I, ah… Shouldn’t you be back in bed? It looked like you had a hundred letters to answer.”

  “No, only about thirty and I’m almost through.”

  “You answer every letter personally?”

  “Of course.” She studied him, and knew in a heartbeat he was up to something. “All right, give.”

  He raised one brow, looking his most autocratic. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Now that would be a sight—you begging.”

  He started to speak and she said, “I want to know what you were doing outside, Daniel. For that matter, I want to know what you’re doing in my living room.”

  “It’s a small room, have you ever noticed that, Lace? Not a lot of space for maneuvering or rearranging.”

  “Why in heaven’s name would you want to rearrange anything? I have things exactly as I like them.”

  “Well, as to that…” He hedged a moment longer as Lace leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms. He made a sound of disgust. “All right. Ruin the surprise, why don’t you? I had to make room for the tree.”

  “A tree?”

  “A small one. A Christmas tree. I bought it when I went out earlier.” When she only stared at him, he continued in a defensive tone, “It doesn’t seem right for you to not have a tree, Lace. It’s Christmas.”

  She felt the color wash from her face. She pushed around him, but he stayed on her heels, crowding her, and when she came to a staggering halt in the entrance to the living room, he almost bumped into her. She felt his hands settle on her shoulders.

  “I haven’t had a tree since I was… I can’t remember the last time I had a tree.”

  Quietly, his tone almost a caress, Daniel asked, “Didn’t you decorate a tree when you were a little girl?”

  She shook her head. “For a long time, my mom was married to this rich guy and he had professional decorators come in and fix a tree that was easily ten feet tall. I was afraid to get near it because I thought I might mess something up and everyone would know. Each bow had been placed just so, you see, and if I moved something, or touched something wrong…”

  Daniel squeezed her shoulders again. “We used to decorate our tree with stuff Annie and Max had made. Guy and I would supervise after we’d put on the lights and the star on top. It was funny, because until Max and Annie got big enough, all the ornaments would be around the bottom branches and the top of the tree would be bare. Guy and I would wait until after Annie and Max were in bed, then we’d rearrange things a bit, but we never told them, and they never noticed.” He hesitated a moment, and she could feel the humor in him, the fond remembrance. “It was a great tree, full of hodgepodge ornaments.”

  She turned to face him. “Where was your dad?”

  Daniel gave a long, weary sigh, his hands falling to his sides and his gaze directed inward. “After Mom died, Dad couldn’t cope with the holidays. He’d give me money and ask me to buy presents for the kids, and I could charge our Christmas dinner at the local market, but he didn’t join in with us. He’d stay hidden away, usually up in his room, sometimes he’d even take a vacation away from us, like he does now. I tried to make sure Annie and Max didn’t notice that he wasn’t there. I tried to sort of fill in, make everything so busy and fun that it wouldn’t hurt them.”

  Lace wondered who had made sure he wouldn’t hurt. No one, evidently. Her throat felt tight and she swallowed. “I don’t have any ornaments or lights or anything.”

  “I know. I picked up some stuff.”

  He stepped around her and sat on the couch. Out of a large bag, he pulled multicolored twinkle lights and several boxes of ornaments. Almost too many, she thought, for such a small tree. Lace crept forward, afraid to delve into how she felt at that moment. She perched carefully on the seat next to him.

  “I did my own tree with white lights, but considering how much you like color, I thought you’d prefer these.”

  He took them out of the box and reached to the right of the couch to plug them in. Lace smiled at the rainbow hue of colors. She felt tears but fought them back, busying herself by picking up a box of ornaments. They were small glass balls in gold and silver and red.

  “This is better than Christmas morning.” The words felt inadequate to express her feelings, but the silence was killing her, making it impossible to dredge up conversation. Memories rushed back, painful and filled with longing.

  One by one, Daniel pulled things from the bag. A package of red bows. A bright silver star for the top. Several strands of multicolored glass garland. Slippery silver icicles.

  Lace choked on a deep breath, then laughed at herself for behaving so foolishly. “Now I do feel like a queen.”

  “I’m glad. Are you up to helping me decorate? Or would you rather just watch?” He spoke quickly, as if his surprise, his words, embarrassed him, and she wanted to hug him tight, to kiss him all over. “I wanted to have the tree in the stand before I showed you the other stuff. Just so you couldn’t say no. I wasn’t sure…”

  “I love it. All of it. I’d never say no.”

  The words hung in the air, and Lace knew he was thinking of things, other circumstances when he might ask and she might say yes.

  Her belly tightened and her breasts ached, as if she needed to wrap her arms around herself—or around him. Daniel bit his upper lip, his gaze glued to hers. He’d shaved when he’d gone home to change clothes, and now she touched his jaw, surprised at how that simple touch made her feel.

  “Thank you.”

  He continued to watch her, and she knew the exact train of his thoughts, because they were her thoughts, as well. He wanted to kiss her—and she wanted him to. But she knew better. Every day she dealt with the relationships, the broken hearts, that had started with a single kiss.

  She searched her mind for a topic to break the sexual tension, but only one unpleasant subject sprang to mind. “My mom hated Christmas almost as much as your dad.”

  Daniel stepped back. Rather than look disgruntled by her choice to halt the tentative progress of their romantic urges, he seemed intrigued. He knelt by the small tree only partially secured in the stand—a tree no more than four feet in height. As he tightened the bolts that held the trunk, he glanced back at her. “Tell me more about your mother.”

  Too late to withdraw, Lace prepared herself to divulge personal hurts while watching Daniel tackle the tree. “Mom became something of a pariah in the social standing she aspired to. She married a rich man because he could pamper her, could erase every worry from her brain, and my mother really hated to have to fret over anything. She thought he loved her. I always knew she was only a trophy to him, a much younger woman who looked beautiful and sexy on his arm. I suppose, had he lived, it would have been an even trade. They both got what they wanted.

  “But then he died, and everything changed. Mom wanted to go on the same way, to find another man who treated her as gently, who patronized her as richly as he did. But somehow that relationship never transpired. Men saw her in one of two ways, and neither of those ways was overly flattering or involved legitimate caring.”

  Daniel carried the tree to the corner he’d cleared. Lace stopped him. “You probably know a whole lot more about this tree business than I do, but what would you think of sitting the tree on that small marble-topped table? Wouldn’t that make it more noticeable?”

  Daniel grinned. “Of course it would. Do you have an old towel or something we can put underneath so we don’t scratch the marble?”

  It took a few moments to get the table situated, and already Lace regretted speaking about her mother. The anger she felt on her mother’s behalf, and the pity, left a churning pain in her stomach. She didn’t want to ruin this special moment, but already her head ached with the memories.

  She thought Daniel might have let the subject go. But as soon as he had the tree steady and secure, he brought it up again. “How did men se
e your mother, Lace?”

  He wasn’t fooling her with his casual disregard. She knew his attentive mode and this was it. She’d seen it many times with Annie, when he cared a great deal about the topic, but didn’t want to overreact. It didn’t matter that he was busy stringing the lights on the tree, or that he hadn’t precisely looked at her.

  What would happen if she confided in him just a bit? Nothing in the past day and a half seemed real any longer. Certainly not her relationship with Daniel. And if he stopped despising her so much…what then? Maybe her relationship with Annie wouldn’t be so strained if Daniel accepted her.

  With a bracing breath, she forged onward and hoped for the best. “My mother found men in two separate classifications. One group wanted to marry her for her money, despite her humble beginnings and the very obvious fact that we’d never fit in, that we weren’t in any way part of the rich elite. The other wanted nothing at all to do with her. They turned up their noses and treated her like a tramp, accusing her of marrying for money, of being mercenary enough to be glad her husband was dead.”

  “It must have been very difficult for you.”

  Lace pondered that. She hadn’t often thought about the way it had affected her, she’d been too filled with remorse for her mother. “She’s never stopped trying to find another true love. And I don’t have the heart to convince her one doesn’t exist.”

  Daniel stopped what he was doing. He stared.

  “What?” Lace felt uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “You’re looking at me as if I’ve grown an extra head.”

  He smiled. “Was I?” He stood and brushed off his hands, then reached for a box of ornaments. “Actually, there’s two things. You said your mother has never stopped looking for a true love. Do you mean she’s still looking?”

  Since the placement of the ornaments looked simple enough, Lace picked up a box of her own and went to help. She placed the first one on the tree tentatively, waiting for Daniel to explain that she was doing it wrong. But he didn’t say anything, just went about his business, hanging more and more until the tree began to look heavy with color and the ornaments rested in clusters.

  “My mother travels every holiday. Actually, she travels almost year round, but especially during the holidays. She says she’s lonelier then, and believe me, there’s always one man or another more than willing to take advantage of her generosity. After all, it’s a free vacation, right?”

  Lace knew the sarcasm hung thick in her tone, but she didn’t care. Daniel didn’t seem to mind. He never once looked at her.

  “Mom travels in the best circles, with the ritziest accommodations. She never wants for company, but she always comes back more dejected than ever. I’ve tried to explain to her that she can’t buy love, but she doesn’t know any other way. When her husband widowed her, he left her with a group of people she’d come to know, to count on as friends through his association. But they’ve demolished her self-esteem with their condemnation and criticism. They’ve ostracized her, and she’s still doing her best to find acceptance in the only way she knows how.”

  “Was it hard for you, as a young girl, to accept your mother’s choices?”

  Lace shook her head vehemently, with certainty. But she lied. Of course it hurt. There just wasn’t anything she could do about it.

  “Lace…”

  “Okay, so it used to embarrass me a little. She’d drag me to gatherings with her, happy that she had her daughter and her new man at her side, and we’d all be ridiculed. But then it struck me how unfair I was being. Men do it all the time, exchange lovers like worn shoes. Why shouldn’t my mother do the same if that’s the lifestyle that suits her?

  “People have to deal with their loneliness and heartache in their own way, despite the ramifications involved. Now it only embarrasses me that society is so ridiculous, that a woman is judged harshly by a double standard as outdated as the one that claims she must be pure, while a man is only more appealing with experience.”

  “Is that why you condone sexual freedom?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s why I condone personal choices, made by mature, responsible adults. You make it sound as if I advocate orgies and indiscriminate lechery.”

  Daniel considered that, watching her, his eyes thoughtful and his expression intent. After a moment he nodded, but Lace had no idea what conclusions he’d drawn.

  “Another thing.” He draped some garland across a branch, then stood back to admire it. Lace admired it, as well. “You said you didn’t have the heart to convince your mother that true love doesn’t exist.”

  “It’s not my place, even as her daughter, to offer advice when it’s not asked for.”

  “I understand. But the part that stumped me is your assumption that love isn’t real.”

  She tried a laugh, but it sounded forced even to her own ears. “I’ve seen plenty of relationships begin on the misconception of love, but nothing that could substantiate real love existed. Not the mythical stuff that lasts a lifetime, through thick and thin, sickness and health and all that. All I’ve seen is an illusion that falls apart easily enough, over the most trivial of things, leaving broken people behind. Lust is real, affection and friendship and common ground. But love…” She shrugged, feeling helpless with the way he watched her, feeling inadequate to explain what she knew as a truth.

  Daniel actually laughed. “You’re wrong, you know. Love is there, and it’s all-consuming. I just want no part of it. It does cripple people, when things don’t work out. Look at my dad. He loved my mother more than anything.”

  And, Lace thought, even more than his children. To the point where he couldn’t be bothered with them once she’d gone.

  “Don’t get me wrong. And don’t feel pity for me or my family. Dad’s there, and he’s as involved as he can be. We all know he cares. It’s just that I don’t think he’ll ever really be able to cope with the loss of my mother. He was always flighty, and she was the one who kept things grounded. They were like two halves, each dependent on the other. Now one half is gone and he isn’t whole anymore.”

  “And you think that constitutes love as a dangerous thing?” She thought about it, about his reactions, and nodded to herself. “It could explain why you’re so constrained. You’re a product of your environment. I can understand that. Children are often influenced by…”

  “Don’t be a fool, Lace.” He thrust his chin toward her, his entire demeanor belligerent.

  Familiar ground, she thought.

  “I am never foolish, and I only meant—”

  “What? To charge me off the clock for a free evaluation? I can’t afford you.”

  Her face reddened. “I don’t charge people! I’m not a psychologist. I’m a—”

  “I know what you are. And believe me, I don’t need to be psychoanalyzed.”

  She shoved a red bow onto the tree, nearly knocking it over. “And I don’t need you to patronize me. Just because I’m female doesn’t mean I don’t know my business. I have a master’s degree in sex education. I graduated at the top of my class. My radio show is one of the most popular around.” She tapped a finger against her chest and leaned toward him. “I’m one of the best in my field, despite my gender or age.”

  Daniel caught her hand and curled his own around it. His knuckles brushed her breast and she stilled, going mute in a heartbeat.

  With his nose nearly touching hers and his expression black, he said, “I wasn’t trying to discredit your abilities. Believe me, I know the influence you have over others. In Annie’s case, you have too much influence.” She started to speak, but he laid a quieting finger to her lips. “My turn to talk, okay? Without interruptions.”

  She nodded since he gave her no other option. The feel of his finger on her mouth, firm and warm, did funny things to her insides.

  Slowly, he lowered his hand, allowing it to rest at the side of her neck, causing more reactions to erupt in her belly as he curved his fingers around her throat. His scowl softened and melted away t
o be replaced by a look of scrutiny. “I’ve never discriminated against a woman in my life.”

  She knew that. Time and again she’d seen Daniel show respect and admiration for women and their abilities. He treated all his professional colleagues the same, despite their sex. That attitude, she realized, appealed to her as much as his delectable physical appearance.

  His other hand lifted, until he cupped her head between his warm palms. She forgot to breathe, to move away.

  “I like touching you, Lace. I’m even finding that I like being around you, when you refrain from dissecting my character, or slicing me to ribbons with your wit.”

  “You’re easy to banter with.”

  He grinned. “Translated to mean, you can always get the best of me and you like that.”

  She pursed her lips, modestly holding back her agreement.

  “At least we agree on some things. Neither one of us wants anything to do with love. Correct?”

  Lace nodded, though she wasn’t sure she agreed anymore. She’d told him she didn’t entirely believe in love, not that she didn’t crave it. At the moment, with him touching her, it seemed like a moot point.

  “Will you also agree we’ve both changed? That this day together has changed us?”

  She wanted to agree, but not without verification first. “Explain what you mean.”

  “I understand you better now, Lace. I know that you’re not mindlessly promiscuous, that you’re only reacting to how you’ve been raised, the examples you’ve been given by both men and women.”

  Heat rushed up her spine, making her temples pound, her hands curl into fists.

  “Don’t misunderstand. I’m not judging your mother, I swear. I’m only attributing her with a due amount of influence on your life. As you just said, children react to the environment they’re surrounded in—”