Home for Love (10 page)

"What's going on now?" Steven's voice demanded from above her. She stopped, the sweat trickling down her face. She didn't dare look up for fear of losing her grip.

"Hello, Steven. I'm mowing, as you can see."

"I can see, all right."

"Well… so, if you don't mind, I'll just get on with it." She licked the corner of her mouth. Her hands were beginning to slip from perspiration and she bent back a little further against the weight of the machine.

"You're supposed to be an interior decorator," Steven's voice shot down to her. "Not an exterior one!"

"Well, you know what we were talking about the other day," she panted. "My overall scheme? If I'm going to look at the house—as a whole—I have to include the lawn—" The mower slipped out of her grasp and went crashing down the hill. She tried to look as if that was exactly what she'd intended. Taking out her bandanna—
his
bandanna—she patted her face.

Steven climbed down beside her. He seemed ready for a good argument, but then he simply looked at her. His gaze felt like a caress.

"Sunlight," he said musingly. "You have eyes full of sunlight. Did you know that?"

Kate stared at the soft cotton of his shirt. She stood without moving, almost without breathing. She knew she should turn away from him before her defenses crumbled, yet everything in her ached to be near him.

"Gloria came by," she blurted out, using the words as a barrier. "She wanted you to pick her up early tonight… before the opera."

Steven looked puzzled. "What opera? Nobody told me about this."

"Gloria didn't say anything else about it."

Steven groaned. "My client keeps arranging these evenings of his without consulting me first. I hate opera."

Kate rubbed a scrape on her elbow. She had assumed that Steven and Gloria would be sharing an intimate evening alone. But apparently it wasn't going to be like that at all! Kate felt a surge of relief and happiness. The intensity of her emotions startled her, but anything to do with Steven seemed to affect her this way—no half-measures allowed. He reached out a hand and gently cupped her chin. Now a sensual lassitude took her over, as if his touch could still all her fears of him. Her lips parted and her breath came on a slow, deep sigh.

"We seem to have a problem," she managed to say. "This physical attraction—both of us…"

"We ought to be able to work it out," Steven said. "We're two adults."

"Two responsible adults," she agreed. She curled her fingers to keep them from reaching out to him.

"So we won't take this any further," he said.

"We did agree to be professional…" She raised her eyes slowly to his.

"Dammit, Kate!" He bent his head and kissed her, his lips firm and demanding. She returned the kiss steadily, making her own demands.

Then it was over. Steven lifted his head and stepped back from her.

"There," he said.

She widened her eyes. "Well. Now
that's
out of the way—" she began.

"Don't you feel better?"

She wouldn't admit it, but she did feel better. This time there was no sense of horrible rejection, no coldness afterward. It had been a most satisfying kiss, exquisitely complete in itself. How could Steven's lips tutor her in so many different emotions?

She made herself speak in a calm, analytical manner. "We're going to ruin our business relationship," she said. "If we keep on this way, we won't be able to avoid it."

"We can't deny the attraction between us," Steven answered, sounding equally reasonable. "That's what we've been trying to do and it's not working. Maybe we're more than business associates. Have you thought about that?"

"We're not exactly friends, though," Kate said quickly. "We're more than acquaintances, of course, but I really do think 'associates' is the right term to describe us." She stopped, chagrined to find that Steven was regarding her with open amusement.

"You have to put a label on it, don't you?" he asked. "You have to make sure all the limits are strictly defined so I don't get too close to you."

"We both agreed on those limits," she said shakily. "We both agreed it would be a professional relationship, nothing more!"

"Why are you so afraid of me, Kate?" His voice was gentle. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want us to be honest with each other." He reached out a hand to her but she backed away, folding her arms against her body.

"All right, let's be really honest," she said, challenge in her voice. "Where do you see our relationship heading?"

"I don't know," he said slowly. "That's the whole point, isn't it? There aren't any signposts along the way to tell us where we're going."

"So you don't want to set any limits," Kate scoffed. "That's the best escape of all because it means you don't have to commit yourself to anything."

"You're the one who's frightened, Kate. You behave as if any minute prison bars are going to come slamming down in front of your face. It shows in everything you do—the way you run your business—"

"Oh, no, you're not going to start that again." Kate moved down the sloping yard and grasped the handle of the lawn mower. Steven followed her.

"We have to talk about it," he said ominously. "I found your note asking for more money taped to the refrigerator. That was a nice touch."

"I wanted to make sure you saw it as soon as possible."

"I suppose you thought it would be easy to ask me for more money because you succeeded so well the first time. You want my help with no strings attached. It's another symptom of your fear that you'll lose control of your life."

"I've had enough psychoanalysis for one day," she said, "though it's been very enlightening. Thank you for explaining to me that independence in a woman is something abnormal and neurotic."

"You're deliberately misinterpreting what I say," he told her. "Gloria Nestor is an independent woman, and I admire that in her. But she knows how to use her independence."

This was too much. Kate started pulling on the mower. She was angry, but most of all she felt wounded. Steven had compared her to Gloria and found her lacking. She didn't seem to have any defense against that; it hit her too deep and hard. Oh, blast! Couldn't Steven see that she just wanted him to leave her alone? But he wouldn't give up.

"Wait a minute," he said. "You're dangerous to yourself." He took over the lawn mower and hauled it up the hill. She had no choice but to scramble up alongside. At the top, he stopped and surveyed the jagged strip of mown grass that marked her earlier descent. To his credit, he maintained a solemn expression.

"I think we'd better try another system," he said. She couldn't argue, although she would have liked to. Steven disappeared into the shed, which had scallops of trim that matched the house. After a moment he emerged with some rope. Rolling up his sleeves, he squatted down next to the mower. Kate watched the deft movements of his hands. He tied the rope at the base of the handle, then stood up again.

"All right, I'm going to be holding onto the rope to keep the mower steady for you. Move in rows across the lawn, not down. Definitely not down. Got that?"

"Yes, sir," she said acidly. He glanced at her.

"Good. Let's go." He pulled on the starter. Fortunately the engine had survived its tumbles and started right up.

Kate had to admit that Steven had devised a good plan. He walked with her as she mowed, using his rope to work against the machine's weight on the steep incline. She was free to make satisfying, even rows in the shaggy grass. And she was free to wonder what other comparisons Steven had made between Gloria and herself. Would Kate always come up lacking?

"I can't believe you need more money already!" Steven shouted over the roar of the engine. Kate turned and started another row. He moved right along with her.

"It's the house," she declared loudly. "I've never seen a place crying out for so much attention."

"There's a new coat stand in the hall."

"I know. Isn't it wonderful?"

"And a model ship on the mantelpiece!"

"It's an antique. Did you see the workmanship?" she called.

"Those aren't exactly necessities, Kate."

"I don't agree with you at all." She plowed on ahead, but Steven just kept right on with her at the end of that stupid rope.

"This is a lot more serious than I thought at first," he yelled over the engine. Kate mowed furiously.

"You hired me to do a job, Steven," she yelled back. "That's what I'm doing."

"Your business is in trouble, Kate. You have to face that."

She turned to retort, but then slipped and had to cling to the mower to keep from falling. The only thing holding both of them upright was Steven, straining at the other end of the rope.

Kate regained her balance. She reached over, shut off the engine and then plunked herself down in the grass. Steven took hold of the lawn mower.

"This is an expensive one," he said. His voice reverberated in the sudden stillness. Kate mopped her face with the red-and-green bandanna.

"It's also a good one. It will last you a very long time."

"Your assistant called me at the office today, asking if I'd seen you. She said she'd been trying to reach you all morning. She sounded almost incoherent."

Kate looked warily at him over the plaid bandanna. "Paula? I'll call her right back. I'm sure it's nothing. I was, um, out in the garden for a while and I couldn't hear the telephone."

"She kept talking about little tables and big cushions. And a Mrs. Clove who wants her money back right away."

"Cleeve," Kate muttered.

"What?"

"Mrs. Cleeve. That's who she's talking about. I apologize for Paula. She shouldn't be going on like that to you. It's an inconvenience—"

"She sounded pretty upset, Kate. I think she has good reason to be."

Kate stuffed the bandanna back into her pocket. "I can handle my own business affairs," she said tightly. Steven leaned against the mower.

"I don't think you can at all," he remarked.

She stared at him. "I've had enough of this. First you come out here and kiss me. Then you tie a rope to my lawn mower… your lawn mower—"

"You needed kissing."

Kate struggled to her feet. "I don't need anything from you, Steven Reid!"

He took a slip of paper out of his pocket and examined it. "Another request for money, with daisies printed all over it."

"Just tear it up. I'll do without it."

He gazed at her speculatively. "I think you do need the money, Kate. Rather badly, too."

"Not anymore." She searched her mind frantically; there had to be other options.

"I'll give you a check right now," Steven went on imperturbably. "All the money you need to finish the job. On one condition."

"I really don't want to hear this—"

"The condition is that you let me do some financial planning for you."

Kate brushed the loose grass away from herself with determination. She couldn't possibly let him do this.

"I have a policy, Steven. No one looks at my checkbook but me."

"Afraid of what they'll find?" he asked conversationally.

She sighed. "Look, when my father was alive, he never allowed my mother any power at all. So she'd take the checkbook when he wasn't looking, and she'd write checks without recording them. Once she even mortgaged the furniture to pay for our Christmas gifts. To this day she refuses to admit that it was all a subtle rebellion."

Steven started chuckling.

Kate glared at him. "It's not funny! It's pathetic."

"I think it's pretty funny. Sounds like there was nothing subtle about it, either."

"Well,
my
checkbook belongs to me," Kate asserted. "I don't have to sneak around trying to filch money out of someone else's. So there's no reason anybody has to look into my finances."

He straightened and shrugged. "Those are my terms, and I suspect you don't have anywhere else to turn. Just think of it, Kate. I'll supply you with enough money to buy everything you want for the house, along with a generous amount to cover your time. How can you refuse a deal like that?"

She clenched her hands. Oh, that look of satisfaction on his face. He knew he had her, all right. The house needed everything she could give it; that was why she was in this fix. She'd always been able to get by before, no matter how precarious the situation.

But she wouldn't blame the house. Steven was enjoying his power over her. She
knew
he was, even though his face was impassive now. He could dominate her senses with one touch, one kiss. But that didn't seem to be enough for him. He wanted to take over the rest of her while keeping his own self intact.

She tilted her chin. "All right, Steven. You win—for now."