Something Different/Pepper's Way (38 page)

“Diana, matchmaker, mender of lonely hearts, goddess of the hunt, how did I manage to stumble across you?”

“You answered an ad in the paper.”

He saw Pepper’s home the next morning, saw the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fit neatly together. It was all there, as she’d said, but only to those who cared to look and knew what to look for. It was bright and cheerful and cluttered with memories. There were snapshots tacked up everywhere of the friends she’d made all over the world, mementos of the places she’d been.

Ties. Bonds.

Exploring like a cat with Pepper’s smiling permission, Thor looked into closets and corners. He found evidence of her competitive spirit in trophies and awards. And he saw that the awards themselves meant little to her, since they were used merely to prop open doors or hold down papers, or were left to gather dust on the top shelf of a closet.

Small, custom-designed, and built-in cases held collections of jade and ivory, cheek-by-jowl with the crayoned drawings of children befriended along the way. Books on every conceivable subject were jammed into bookshelves and piled in corners, topped here and there by battered stuffed animals. A compact stereo system was surrounded by tapes and albums.

From the cheerful clutter emerged a portrait of a woman
who made friends and kept them, was intensely curious, competitive out of a love of challenge, had been everywhere—and probably seen everything—and had somehow managed to retain her enthusiasm for everything.

Everything,
Thor mused silently, staring around him at her home. That was Perdita Elizabeth Patricia Elaine Reynolds. Honest, reckless, impulsive, humorous, wise, caring, lively one moment and reflective the next. How many women was she?

As many as I have to be,
she’d said.

He looked now at her smiling face, the softly glowing eyes, remembered the night before and a passion matching his own. Like a thorn, she’d worked her way beneath his skin, but, oddly enough, there was no pain. And he wondered if it was too late for her to teach him what he wanted to learn.

He’d shut so much of himself away that he wasn’t sure he could ever reach for those feelings again, sort through them, make sense of them. He wanted to reach out to her, but he wasn’t sure how. And because she’d never told him what he needed to hear in simple words, he was afraid to try.

“Pepper?”

“Hmm?”

“Your home is … beautiful.”

“Thank you. I hoped you’d like it.”

The days passed, days filled with laughter and companionship. And nights filled with magic. Pepper taught Thor how to groom a hostile poodle, and worked determinedly at making his job a casual topic for conversation. She told him about some of her more absurd experiences and encouraged him to talk about his life before she’d landed in the middle of it. She played the piano for him, discovering that the instrument had been his mother’s and that he couldn’t play a note.

She cooked for him. She even danced for him. The dance was one she’d picked up on her travels, and was immediately dubbed the Dance of a Veil-and-a-half by a bemused Thor. It also led to a rather interesting evening.

A week. Two.

Pepper had her own reasons for not telling Thor that she loved him—although she thought that if the man didn’t know by now, he was as blind as a bat!—but his continued silence on that subject, and the subject of whether or not they had a future together, unnerved her badly. Both her instincts and intuition failing her, she didn’t stop to think that Thor had closed down that part of himself too thoroughly to be easily opened again.

Her only thought was that perhaps he was content with the undefined limits of their relationship.

But Pepper wasn’t. True, she’d told Thor in all honesty that she could live for today. But she knew that every day she remained with him would make it that much harder to leave when she had to. And she still felt hope that he wouldn’t want her to leave.

Wouldn’t
let
her leave….

So, closing her eyes and whispering a devout prayer to the patron saint of lovers, Pepper took the biggest gamble of her life.

ten

THOR STEPPED INTO THE LIVING ROOM AND
halted, a sudden wave of coldness sweeping him from head to toe as he listened to Pepper talking on the phone. He found himself straining to pick up some nuance of hesitation in her tone, some regret… something. But her voice was even and unemotional. He could see her profile clearly; it seemed set and determined, and her eyes gazed across the room with a fixed intensity.

“Yes, Mr. Morris, I’ve talked with Miss James. Yes, I’ve thought about it, and—I’ve decided not to take over the business permanently. Yes, I’m… sorry too. No, I enjoyed it tremendously. I love animals. Well, I think it’s time for me to move on.”

For the first time Thor noted a hesitation, a wavering in her voice. But then it was even again.

“Miss James told you about me, eh? Yes, I’m something of a traveler. I’ll probably be leaving the country after we get this business taken care of. No, it’s just the equipment; I operated out of my… my home. If you could arrange to store the equipment somewhere until it’s sold… ? Yes. No, Monday will be soon enough. I’ll bring the books by, and you can make sure
that everything is in order. Two o’clock? That’s fine. Yes. Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you, Mr. Morris. Good-bye.”

Pepper cradled the receiver slowly, her gaze still fixed on something that seemed far away and none too happy. Thor saw the worry-stone that had been absent these last weeks in her hand, her thumb moving with a methodical rhythm. Only that movement and the faraway eyes betrayed her.

“You’re leaving me,” he said suddenly, hoarsely. He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans as she got up and turned to face him. His hands were shaking, and he didn’t want her to see.

Pepper looked across at him for a moment, almost as though he were slowly coming into focus. Then she smiled easily, and he instantly recognized the curtain falling between them.

“I talked to Kristen this afternoon. I charged the call to a credit card, so you won’t be billed for it.”

“Dammit, Pepper,” he muttered, swearing at her trivial aside. But she was going on cheerfully.

“It seems that the English breeder did have something permanent in mind when he swept her off to England; they’re getting married in three weeks. And since he has all the grooming equipment he needs, she decided to sell hers. She offered me the business, but I decided to pass. I was just talking to her lawyer to arrange the transfer.”

“Why won’t you tell me that you love me?” he murmured, hearing the puzzled, raw sound of his own voice.

Pepper turned away suddenly and walked over to the window, staring out as though the distant pastures held a driving interest for her. “I thought I’d go to Australia next,” she said lightly, tossing the words over her shoulder. “I’ve only been there briefly before—flyovers and one-night layovers. I’d like to see the Outback. And kangaroos and koalas in the wild. And then maybe a cruise. I’ve always loved the sea. I could—”

“Why won’t you tell me that you love me?” he repeated
fiercely, nothing uncertain about his voice now. He saw the worry-stone still in her hand, still being worried methodically, unconsciously.

“Fifi will be happy with you here. I’ll leave Brutus and the van with Mom; I always do when I’m traveling.” She went on as though he hadn’t spoken, but her voice was strained now, uneven. “Next week probably. My passport’s up-to-date, and all my shots.”

“Dammit,
Pepper! Why won’t you tell me that you love me?”

She whirled abruptly, showing him a face that was no longer calm. “Because you’re not a man to cut notches on your belt!” she told him almost violently. Then she looked down and saw the worry-stone in her hand, flinging it toward the couch with a muttered curse.

Thor shook his head. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” he asked roughly.

Pepper crossed her arms across her breasts and met his gaze, in control once more. “If you were that sort of man,” she said in a calm voice, “and I told you… it would be a sort of trophy for you. You’d look back on it with enjoyment, and a kind of pride. You know”—she smiled crookedly—“another one bit the dust. Another scalp. Another notch.”

“Pepper—”

“But you’re not that sort of man,” she cut him off flatly. “Don’t you see, Thor? It’ll be the past. And I’d rather nothing was said that you couldn’t forget if you wanted to. Nothing to regret.”

Thor moved toward her slowly, taking his hands from his pockets. When he stood before her, he held her eyes steadily with his own. “And what about you?” he asked huskily. “Will you have regrets?”

She shook her head immediately. “No. These past weeks … no, I won’t have any regrets.”

His hands lifted to her shoulders, the thumbs moving over her collarbone with a restless impatience. “Tell me that you love me,” he said, his voice dropping to a dark and compelling rumble.

“Thor, don’t make this any harder please. I told you that I wouldn’t complicate your life. I told you that you wouldn’t have to ask me to leave. But I didn’t say I’d be happy about it. Don’t make me regret.”

“Tell me that you love me.”

Pepper looked up into his taut face, the determined gray eyes. “Why?” she asked shakily. “You’re
not
a man to cut notches in your belt. So why?”

“I have to hear you say it,” he told her fiercely

“You know how I feel.” She felt the hands on her shoulders tighten almost convulsively, and saw a muscle leap in his rigidly held jaw. And the nearly drowned hope inside of her surfaced with a breath of new life.

“I have to hear you say it.” His voice was ragged, shaken with a depth of feeling she hadn’t dared to hope for.

He watched her face intensely, seeing her steel herself like someone fearing a slap. But when she finally spoke, her voice was quiet and sure, with a certainty that needed no intensity, no emphasis, to prove itself.

“I love you, Thor.” She lifted her hands to touch his face, lightly, as if needing a tentative reassurance of reality. “I love you.”

Thor saw the glow in her lovely eyes, the expression he’d seen before and never dared put a name to. And the coldness that had held him in its grip from the moment he’d entered the room finally released him. He caught her fiercely in his arms,
holding her with a strength just this side of savagery. “God, Pepper! I was so afraid!”

His hands found her face, tilting it up urgently. He kissed her with a curious mixture of passion and tenderness, a delicate high-wire balance she gloried in because it meant that depth of feeling she hadn’t dared to hope for. It meant—

“I love you, Pepper,” he breathed unsteadily when his lips finally left hers. “I love you with everything inside of me.”

She caught her breath, staring up at him, a sense of wonder filling her. The same wonder she saw in his eyes. Wonder and a giddy happiness, and a sense of wholeness she’d never felt before. Her arms slipped around his waist, and she felt the certainty of touching the other half of herself.

“Thor…”

His hands still framed her face, warm and strong. “Don’t leave,” he said huskily. “Stay with me.”

She nodded, almost without being aware of doing so. “Who needs Australia?” she murmured. “Let the Aussies have it.”

Thor gazed into the loving depths of her violet eyes, and a quiet laugh escaped him. “You and your chasing! You won after all; I’m trapped.”

Pepper carefully stepped back until they were no longer touching. “There’s no trap, Thor.” She shook her head, smiling. “You’re free. Tell me to leave; I’ll go. I’m not asking for a ring and a promise.”

He reached out to pull her abruptly to him once again. “But I am.” His grin was crooked. “A ring and a whole basketful of promises. And I don’t give a damn whose idea it was in the beginning.”

She smiled up at him, more than content. But his next sober question surprised her; she honestly hadn’t expected him to feel the need for a real commitment.

“Marry me?”

Pepper swallowed hard. “Thor, you don’t have to marry me. It’s enough that you love me.” She laughed shakily. “You’re
really
breaking your rules!”

“A very wise lady told me once,” he said deeply, “that sometimes rules have to be broken. There’s just no other way of dealing with them.”

“Thor—”

“Marry me, sweetheart. I need you beside me for the rest of our lives. I need your humor and your strength and your intelligence. And most of all I need your love. I need to bind us together with every promise, every thread I can find. And— dammit!—I want it in writing! The kind of writing that you and I understand and believe in, the kind that means forever.”

Pepper was vaguely aware that she wasn’t breathing, but it didn’t seem to matter very much. She could only gaze up at the man she loved more than life, and feel a deeply grateful awe that somehow—overcoming the stumbling blocks their separate lives had placed between them—they had found one another.

He held her even more firmly, looking down at her with the eyes of a man who’d doubted heaven… and found it against all odds. “I’m yours more than my own,” he said quietly. roughly. “And I always will be. If you’d walked out that door, part of me would have gone with you. A large part. And I wouldn’t have been able to forget even if I’d wanted to. You would have haunted me all the days of my life. Awake and asleep.