Everything but the marriage (12 page)

"Of course, it was only to be expected," she said brightly. She bent down to pick up her hair clip and swq)t her hair back into it with quick, nervous movements, hoping he couldn't see that her fingers were trembling.

"It was?"

"Of course. I'd been expecting it. Hadn't you? I mean, here we are, living here together. And you know what they say about proximity."

She edged toward the door, aware that she was babbling like an idiot. But she had to stop him from speaking. She couldn't bear to hear what he'd say, though she couldn't have said exactly what that might be.

"Proximity." He didn't seem capable of anything beyond repeating her words.

"Of course. Well, I'm glad that's out of the way. Now we can get on with things without wondering what it would be like to kiss one another. Thanks for calling me in to see the kittens."

She could feel her inane smile starting to crack around the edges. "I should finish putting away the things I bought today," she said, as if she'd brought back cartons of things instead of only two medium-sized sacks.

She darted out of the door before Devlin could say anything, though from the stunned look on his face she doubted he could have found any words.

Annalise reached the sanctuary of her bedroom, closing the door behind her and leaning up against it. The tight smile disappeared. She bit her Iowct Up when it threatened to tremble.

For all the nonsense she'd babbled to Devlin, no one could have been less prepared for what had just happened than she had been. Oh, she'd been aware of an occasional twinge of interest. You couldn't live with a man as attractive as Devlin Russell and not notice him.

She'd even had an occasional dreamy thought about what it might be like if he kissed her. But her vague imaginings of him gently pressing his lips to hers hadn't prepared her for the reaUty.

What had happened to her in there? She'd never felt that kind of blazing need in her life. Certainly never with Bill. She'd never even imagined she was capable of such feelings.

Bill had been her only lover, and she'd found sex with him a warm, friendly thing. Pleasant enough that she'd never had a reason to object to his advances, even if it hardly made the stars fall from the sky.

If she'd had her moments of wondering if there shouldn't be a little more to it than the vague pleasure of knowing that he'd found his satisfaction, she'd

pushed the thoughts away, afraid to find any faults with her marriage. She'd lost too many people in her life to risk losing her husband by complaining about their sex life. She wasn't really the passionate sort anyway. Any lack she felt was undoubtedly in her.

But she couldn't believe that anymore. Moments ago, she'd discovered that she was very much the passionate sort. In Devlin's arms, in his kiss, a whole new side of her had been revealed. She hadn't just responded to his hunger. She'd felt a hunger all her own.

She pressed her fingers to her lips. If he'd wanted to take her right there on the floor, she'd have welcomed him. Even now, her body was still tingling with a new awareness.

"Forget it," she whispered fiercely. "You saw the look in his eyes. He doesn't want this any more than you do. You don't want it." The words were more order than statement.

Proximity. She'd been babbling when she'd told Devlin that was all it was, but the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. As she'd said, they were living here together, seeing each other constantly. It was only natural that a certain sexual tension would develop.

But that's all it was, and if they just ignored it, it would go away.

But if ignoring it was the cure, it was going to take longer than she'd hoped. Devlin wasn't the sort of man who was easy to ignore under any circumstances, but the kiss they'd shared made it almost impossible.

And as if to add to the problon, summer swept over Indiana, elbowing spring aside practically ovemig] The temperatures rose accordingly. More often thb.i not, Devlin's shirt disappeared sometime before noon, leaving Annalise with a fine, unwanted view of his muscled torso.

But the worst thing was not the sight of Devlin's truly splendid physique. The worst thing was the new tension that had sprung up between them. By tacit agreement, neither made any reference to the momentary madness they'd shared the day Beauty's kittens entered the world. But it was there in every glance that passed between them.

Beneath the most innocuous of conversations ran a fine tension, an awareness that didn't disappear with being ignored. The meals they shared were no longer relaxed interludes where the conversation might center on an idea Devlin had had for the house or a book one of them had read.

Conversation grew stilted, punctuated by long silences that neither wanted to break. It was the loss of Devlin's friendship that bothered her more than anything else. She hadn't realized how much she'd enjoyed the rather reserved companionship he offered until it was gone.

The sad thing was, she didn't know how to go about regaining it. They couldn't go back and erase the kiss. It had happened. There was no changing that.

Sleeping together wasn't the answer, either. Though she was willing to admit, somewhat painfully, that if Devlin suggested it, she probably wouldn't hesitate very long.

But he wouldn't suggest it. Not unless he found a way to let her inside the wall he kept around himself, or at least partway in. She'd seen the look in his eyes when he ended the kiss. Dazed as she'd been, she recognized when someone was shutting her out.

It had hurt, but she knew it wasn't really personal with Devlin. She believed the wall was a deeply rooted part of him, a protection he let very few people inside. She knew what it was to put up walls. And she knew how badly it could hurt to let someone inside.

She was rather gloomily contemplating this thought a few days after The Kiss—she'd come to think of it in capitals. There was a storm building up; huge black thunderheads had been gathering all afternoon, making the air thick and muggy with the promise of rain.

It was the sort of weather that made your skin feel too tight, as if the electricity in the air had somehow gotten beneath it, drawing it closer about your bones.

Devlin was working outside. Annalise was supposedly entering figures into the accounting book he'd bought for that purpose when they visited Remembrance. Actually she'd spent a great deal more time staring at nothing than she had writing anything.

When she heard the sound of a car coming down the driveway, curiosity at least momentarily dislodged the frustrated circle of her thinking. She got up from the table and went to the front door.

A bright red compact had just pulled to a stop in front of the house, and a slender brunette was getting out. Annalise started to open the door, half thinking that the woman might be lost and hoping to get direc-

tions. Before she could push the screen open, the stranger's face broke into a grin.

"Dev!"

Devlin came into sight, shrugging into his shirt as he strode toward the woman. But it wasn't the sight of his bare chest that made Annalise's breath catch. It was the warmth of his smile—a genuine smile that Ut up his entire face.

"Midget! What are you doing all the way out here?" Before AnnaUse had a chance to regain her breath, it was stolen from her again by seeing the taciturn, unapproachable Devlin Russell pick the brunette up and swing her around.

"Stop it, you fiend! You're all dirty." The reprimand might have been more effective if she hadn't been laughing up at him.

Midget? It didn't sound like the sort of pet name you'd give a lover. More like the kind of thing you might call a Httle sister. Was this Kelly?

She lingered in the doorway, watching shamelessly as Devlin lowered the other woman to the ground but kept his arm around her shoulders.

"I was visiting a site that Dan's working on, and on the way home, I realized that your place wasn't that far out of my way, so I thought I'd drop by. You don't mind, do you, Dev?"

"Of course not. You know you're always welcome."

"I've extended the same invitation to you," she said, a hint of tartness in the tone. "I havai't noticed you taking me up on it.''

Devlin shrugged. ^Tve been busy. You know how it is, Kelly."

"I know exactly how it is. You're unsociable, Devlin Russell. Do you know how long it's been since you've been to see us? Clay is going to forget who you are.

**No, he won't. He's too smart. Is he with you?" Devlin dropped his arm from her shoulder, bending to look in the car window.

Clay? Who was Clay? The way the sun slanted across the windshield made it impossible for Annalise to see inside. It didn't prevent her from seeing the wriggling infant that Kelly lifted out of a car seat a moment later.

"Remember your Uncle Devlin, sweetie pie?"

"Of course he does. How's my favorite nephew?" Devlin held out his hands to take the baby from her, but Kelly held back.

"He needs to be changed," she warned.

"That's okay. We can change him in the house." He took the baby from her, holding him with none of the awkward self-consciousness that most men felt with an infant.

Annalise hardly noticed. When Kelly lifted the child from the car, the breath left her lungs with painful speed. She drew back from the door, feeling her skin flush and then pale.

She'd thought she was over the worst of it. She'd been so sure she'd moved beyond the agony that flooded her now. Oh, God, they were coming inside. Without giving it a second's thought, she darted across

the living room and into her bedroom, shutting the door and leaning against it.

She heard Devlin and Kelly enter the house. She prayed that Devlin wouldn't feel it necessary to come and find her. She'd been curious about his sister and had thought it would be interesting to meet her. But that was before she knew Kelly had a baby. She couldn't meet her now. She couldn't go out there an smile and make poHte conversation, trying not to look at Kelly's son.

Please, let Devlin just forget all about her.

"Whose car is that next to the house?" Kelly's curious voice carried easily through the door. Annalise held her breath, waiting for Devlin's reply. Let him say he'd bought it as a second car, that it had fallen out of the sky.

Devlin's answer seemed slow in coming, but it wasn't the one she'd been praying for. "It belongs to a... friend of mine. She's been staying with me for a couple of weeks."

"She?"

"Don't get any bright ideas, Midget. She's a friend."

Annalise pressed herself closer against the door as she heard Devlin's footsteps crossing the living room.

"Annalise?" He tapped lightly on the door. Obviously he thought she might be taking a nap. He couldn't possibly know that she was cowering here like someone about to be dragged before a firing squad. "Annalise?"

She could just pretend she was asleep. He'd go away then. Or he might open the door to check on her. And

then she*d have to explain why she'd been pretending she didn't hear him.

"Yes?" The one word was ahnost impossible to force out.

"Kelly's here. My sister," he added, in case she'd forgotten.

"I'll ... be right out," she managed.

Devlin lingered on the other side of the door, as if he'd heard something in her voice that didn't seem quite right.

She released her breath on a sigh that was only a hair's breadth away from being a sob. Straightening away from the door, she smoothed her hands over the soft pink T-shirt she wore over her jeans. She pinched her cheeks, knowing they must be too pale.

She could do this. All she had to do was go to out there and make a few minutes of polite conversation and then make some excuse to leave. Not for a moment, not even for a split second, would she look at Kelly's baby. Not everyone oohed and aahed over infants.

Her knees were trembling as she pulled open the bedroom door and stepped out into the living room. The first thing she saw was the baby, freshly diapered and overall clad, crawling across the floor in her direction.

It took every ounce of willpower she had to keep from darting back into the bedroom and shutting the door. She dragged her eyes from his small figure and forced a smile that she hoped didn't look as sickly as it felt.

Afterward she could remember very little of her meeting with Kelly Remington. She must have responded in all the right places and said the right things, because no one seemed to notice anything wrong.

When Kelly picked up Clay, Annalise felt an actual, physical ache. Her arms hurt. She couldn't keep her eyes from the infant, who seemed reasonably content to view the worid from the safety of his mother's arms.

"Would you like to hold him?"

At Kelly's words, Annalise's eyes snapped up to meet hers, wondering if she'd somehow revealed the painful hunger the baby made her feel. But Kelly only gave her a friendly smile and held Clay out. Vaguely Annalise was aware of the questioning look Devlin sent her, as if he sensed something of the turmoil she was feeling.

She wasn't going to take the baby, of course. Holding him would only make the pain worse, add to the emptiness that gnawed at her. She'd smile and thank Kelly and shake her head. She really wasn't the baby type, she'd say.

She saw her hands go out as if they belonged to someone else. Clay's body felt strong and sturdy in her hands. He studied her with bright blue eyes and then gave her a wide grin, confident that the sight of his two brand-new front teeth would make her a slave for life, just as it had done with everyone else in his life.

Annalise felt her breath catch, remembering another baby, another toothy grin. She drew him closer. He smelled of baby powder and formula. He felt like

heaven. If she closed her eyes, he could be another baby, a little less sturdy, her eyes a softer blue.

"He's... he's very sweet," she said, aware that the silence had stretched on too long and both Devlin and Kelly were looking at her.

"We like him," KeUy said lightly.

"He's so strong. So healthy." Annalise tugged his overalls into better order, aware that her fingers were visibly trembling. "So healthy," she said again.