03_A Family To Call Her Own (20 page)

BOOK: 03_A Family To Call Her Own
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And maybe that was better, she consoled herself. She had a feeling that whatever revelation he’d almost disclosed would only make her nervous. And she was nervous enough already.

Chapter Nine

W
hen Rebecca opened the door on Easter morning, her breath caught in her throat as she drank in the sight of Zach, handsome and distinguished in his dark gray suit, crisp white shirt and blue-and-silver tie, his hair still slightly damp and darkened from the shower. He had such…presence, that was the word, she decided. Not to mention charisma and an almost tangible virility. All of which meant he could turn her to mush with just a glance. Especially a glance like the one he was giving her now as his gaze swept over her swiftly but comprehensively, lingering for just a moment on her loose, flowing hair. His smile of greeting remained unchanged during that quick glance, but the warmth in his eyes erupted into a white-hot blaze.

Zach reached up to run a finger around his suddenly tight collar, swallowing with difficulty. He had seen Rebecca in a variety of outfits, but none seemed to capture her essence as well as this one. Zach didn’t know much about women’s clothes, but for some reason Rebecca’s attire gave her an old-fashioned beauty that made him think of afternoon tea or a garden party. From the gracious sweetheart neckline visible beneath the fitted, short-sleeved bolero jacket, to the full skirt that flared out from the tightly cinched waist, the style was eminently flattering to her trim, utterly feminine figure. And the pastel floral cotton fabric seemed to echo the spring hues of the lavender redbuds and pink flowering apple trees now blooming in profusion throughout the countryside.

But the crowning glory—literally—was her hair. Freed from the constraints of her usual French twist, the soft, unfettered waves cascaded past her shoulders, the glorious russet strands glinting in the golden morning sun as they framed her classic features. The wide-brimmed straw hat, adorned with a cluster of silk flowers in the back, was the perfect final touch.

Though Zach had adeptly avoided long-term romantic entanglements throughout his dating career, he was by no means immune to feminine charms. But he was usually drawn to savvy, sophisticated women. The girl-next-door type usually sent him fleeing in the opposite direction, away from all the things she represented—namely, commitment and responsibility and the constraints of a white picket fence.

But despite the fact that Rebecca was definitely of the girl-next-door variety, he wasn’t running now—much to his surprise. In fact, just the opposite. There was something about her innate goodness, her straightforward honesty and innocence, that drew him in a way that the sophisticated qualities of the other women of his acquaintance never had.

As he looked at her in the gentle light of morning, his senses suddenly went haywire, and he was tempted to reach over and pull her into his arms, to kiss her sweetly tender lips, to run his fingers through her burnished tresses. It was only with a supreme effort that he restrained those impulses. But there was no way he could disguise the hunger in his eyes. That was out of his control.

Despite her limited experience with men, Rebecca knew desire when she saw it, and she gripped the edge of the door, her legs suddenly shaky. Apparently the Easter outfit she’d splurged on, in an uncharacteristic display of self-indulgence, was a hit. A pulse began to beat in the delicate hollow of her throat, and like a homing pigeon, Zach’s gaze dropped to that sensitive area and rested there, the color of his eyes darkening even as Rebecca’s mouth went dry.

“Happy Easter, Rebecca,” Isabel piped up, her thin, childish voice interrupting the throbbing, electric connection that crackled between the two adults. “Look what Uncle Zach gave me!” She held up a large, stuffed white rabbit for inspection, and Rebecca dragged her gaze away from Zach’s mesmerizing eyes, bending down to hug the little girl.

“Isn’t that nice!” she exclaimed, her voice as uneven as her pulse. “And don’t you look pretty!”

Isabel smoothed the crinolined skirt of her sashed cotton floral dress, touched the lace-edged ruffle at the hem, then reached up to adjust her white straw hat. “I never had a dress like this before. Or a hat, either,” she said reverently.

“Well, I think you’ll be the most beautiful lady at church today,” Rebecca declared. Then she forced herself to take a deep, steadying breath. “Come in for a minute while I get my purse,” she suggested breathlessly, backing up to give them access, her eyes touching Zach’s briefly before skittering quickly away to escape the heat still radiating from them. “I think there’s something on the coffee table for you,” she told Isabel with a shaky smile, transferring her gaze to the little girl.

Isabel’s eyes widened. “Really?” She scampered into the living room, pausing with a reverent “Oh!” at the sight of the giant basket of goodies, covered with clear yellow cellophane and topped with a big lavender bow. She turned to look at Rebecca, who had followed her and now stood just inside the room. “Is this mine?”

“It sure is, sweetie. Happy Easter.”

“Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight. “Can I open it?”

“Of course.”

As Isabel bent down to carefully free one side of the cellophane so she could peer inside, Rebecca felt Zach move behind her, his nearness almost palpable.

“That was very nice of you,” he observed quietly.

She turned to find him in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame, his arms folded across his chest. She was grateful to discover that the fire in his eyes was now banked to a more manageable smolder.

“What’s Easter without a basket—or a rabbit?” she replied, striving for a light tone but not quite succeeding.

“Or an Easter bonnet, as the old song goes,” he added lightly, his eyes flickering to her hat for a moment. “By the way, thanks for taking her shopping for the outfit,” he added, nodding toward Isabel. “I wouldn’t have known where to start. But you were wrong about one thing, you know.”

She tilted her head quizzically and frowned. “What do you mean?”

He dropped his voice, and when he spoke, his tone was intimate, caressing. “Isabel isn’t going to be the most beautiful lady at church.” He reached over and ran a gentle finger down Rebecca’s cheek, lifted her soft hair and let it drift through his fingers, then drew an unsteady breath as he rested his palm tenderly against her cheek, his thumb stroking her silky skin, his eyes locked on hers. “I’m looking at the lady who will have that honor,” he declared, his voice suddenly husky.

Rebecca’s heart stopped, then raced on, her whole body quivering at the heat generated by Zach’s unexpected touch—and by the need it inspired. She swallowed with difficulty, surprised to discover that she desperately wanted him to gently claim her lips as he had the night of her birthday, the tender pressure of his kiss stoking the fire in her heart that had languished, reduced to only a few embers, for so many years. She sensed that if any man could coax those embers of passion back to life, this one could. Because while he’d initially struck her as the fast, no-nonsense type who went after what he wanted with aggressive, single-minded determination, he had surprised her by exhibiting a touching gentleness and patience with Isabel. Could he bring those qualities to a relationship with her? she wondered, allowing herself a soaring moment of optimism.

But she stifled the hope quickly and firmly. A child and a woman were two different things, she reminded herself resignedly. And the expectations were entirely different. From a woman he would want responsiveness and satisfaction, and even under the most patient and nurturing conditions, Rebecca wasn’t sure she could ever meet the needs of a man like Zach. There was one way to find out, of course—let the relationship progress. But that, unfortunately, involved risk—on a couple of fronts.

There was the risk of a second humiliation, of course—an extremely unpleasant prospect. But even if she could overcome the physical obstacles—and that was a big “if”—there was another, even greater, risk to consider. Zach’s sojourn in St. Genevieve was just that—nothing more than a brief interlude. When it was over, he would return to his life in St. Louis, leaving her alone once more, her emotions tattered, her heart aching. It wasn’t that he would intentionally hurt her, she knew. It was just that he was probably used to relationships that lasted only as long as the circumstances were convenient.

But a cavalier attitude about involvement wasn’t Rebecca’s way. She had been raised with solid, traditional values that clearly defined dating behavior and, as a result, had never believed in so-called casual intimacy. For her, kissing and touching were only appropriate in the context of a long-term relationship based on mutual respect and, if not love, certainly deep affection.

Rebecca already felt a deep affection for the man whose gaze now held hers so compellingly. And it wouldn’t take much for her to feel even more. In her heart she sensed that her feelings for this man could deepen with very little additional encouragement. Because although Rebecca was uncertain about many aspects of her relationship with Zach, she was absolutely sure about one thing. He drew her in ways no other man ever had, stirring to life the almost cold embers of a long-suppressed passion. But she also knew that if she ever gave her heart to a man, it would be completely and for always. It would be his to cherish—or to break. And the latter possibility scared her to death.

Zach’s eyes scanned Rebecca’s expressive face. He didn’t want to make another mistake with her, but he couldn’t handle a strictly platonic relationship much longer. The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to know. But he had to move slowly, he reminded himself firmly. So he held back, searching her eyes as objectively as he could, trying to discern her feelings. There was uncertainty in them, he acknowledged. And fear. But there was also desire. In fact, unless he was way off base, her eyes were now inviting him more eloquently than words ever could to claim her lips. And it was an invitation simply too tempting to refuse.

He changed his position slightly, a subtle shift that angled his body out of Isabel’s view, his thumb still stroking Rebecca’s cheek in a manner at once both sensuous and comforting. Slowly, carefully he leaned toward her, making no secret of his intent. He watched her eyes, gauging her reaction, ready to back off at the slightest withdrawal. But he saw only a soft yearning in their depths as he closed the distance between them, his hand moving to her nape to draw her close as her eyelids drifted shut.

“Rebecca, can I eat a chocolate egg?”

Rebecca’s startled eyes flew open, connecting with Zach’s as Isabel’s innocent question short-circuited the electrically charged moment. A flash of frustration, coupled with dismay, swept over Zach’s face, and he paused, hovering a mere whisper away from her lips. She could feel the tension radiating from his body, could sense the battle he was waging with his self-control. But in the end he sighed and backed off, giving her a smile that was clearly forced.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait until later to finish this conversation, won’t I?” he murmured, his voice strangely hoarse.

“Can I, Rebecca?” Isabel repeated.

Rebecca tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “Yes, that would be fine,” she replied breathlessly, her eyes still locked on Zach’s, not even sure whose question she was answering.

Zach reached over and trailed his finger down her cheek once more, and his eyes darkened at her sharply indrawn breath. She thought his hand was trembling, but she was such a mass of vibrating nerves herself that she couldn’t be sure. In fact, at the moment she was sure of only one thing.

Zach intended to kiss her later.

That realization sent a surge of excitement—and uncertainty—ricocheting through her. She wanted him to kiss her. That wasn’t the question. The question was, should she let him? Because one kiss could lead to another, and gentleness would eventually give way to passion. She’d already humiliated herself once with this man. That he was even willing to give it another try seemed like a miracle. But she doubted whether any man’s ego would be able to handle that kind of reaction—and rejection—twice. She couldn’t count on a second miracle. Just like she couldn’t count on her response.

And what of her concerns about the transitory nature of his appearance in her life? And the heartbreak that could result if she let herself get involved with him? Was it worth the risk—or should she just retreat to safety?

Rebecca didn’t have the answer to her questions. But maybe in the Lord’s house she would find guidance, as well as relief for her deep-seated doubts and insecurities, she thought hopefully. After all, He had always come through for her before, in His own time and way, when she turned to Him for direction with a problem that was too difficult to tackle on her own.

And this one certainly fell into that category.

 

Rebecca stepped out of the car and gazed up at the deep blue sky with a smile. “Isn’t it a gorgeous day?” she exclaimed.

“Gorgeous,” Zach agreed, his eyes never leaving her face as he shut the door behind her.

She blushed and reached for Isabel’s hand, knowing that his comment wasn’t directed at the weather but deciding for the moment it was safer to pretend it was. Although their conversation on the ride to St. Louis had been casual and impersonal, it had still taken her quite a while to recover from those few emotionally charged moments in her apartment. And the look in his eyes right now was stirring up all those unsettling feelings again.

“I always think it’s such a shame when Easter is rainy or cold,” she chattered nervously as Zach took Isabel’s other hand and they made their way toward the church.

Zach gave her a lazy smile that would have warmed her all the way to her toes even if the day had been dismal, and the pink in her cheeks deepened. Sensing her discomfort, reminding himself that he needed to move very slowly, he changed the subject. “I’m looking forward to meeting your brother and sister-in-law,” he remarked conversationally.

They were looking forward to meeting him, too, she thought ruefully. Especially Sam, whose imagination had been working overtime. Rebecca’s goal today was to convince everyone that she and Zach were just friends. Whether that was true or not was beside the point. She just didn’t want her family jumping to any conclusions. Especially when she hadn’t reached any herself.

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