The Unsung Hero (19 page)

"Damn it, Samantha, when are you going to
wake up and separate reality from fantasy?" she scolded herself
irritably. "It didn't mean a damn thing to him--no more than a
purely physical release--while it meant the world to you!"

But facts were facts, and it had happened.
There would be no going back, and she was simply going to have to
accept it. The only problem was how. How did a woman go about
forgetting a man who only happened once in a lifetime?

She was still pondering that question when
Jason walked into the kitchen and found her toying with a
half-eaten bowl of cereal that had been poured an hour before.

"Samantha." His voice roused her from her
lethargy as he sat down across from her. "Why didn't you stay and
eat breakfast with us?"

She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced at
the bitter taste. It was cold. "You know why," she muttered
without looking at him.

"You felt awkward." His voice was very
gentle.

She raised her head long enough to send him a
burning gaze. "You may be used to being caught in bed by David
Winters but I'm not!"

"That was a first," he said softly. "The
last day has brought a lot of firsts, for both of us."

Samantha didn't dare question that
self-satisfied smile. Not only did she understand his meaning only
too well, it brought up a subject that she suspected was best left
alone.

"You didn't like David, did you?"

"We didn't meet under the best of
circumstances," she said evasively.

"I agree," he murmured thoughtfully. "It's
too bad he's gone back to Portland already. He really is a good
friend and I think you'd have liked him."

Her mouth tightened. "I'm not so sure!" she
retorted. "From what you've told me and what I saw, you two are a
lot alike, both after a good time!"

Jason's eyes darkened suddenly. His hands
reached across the table and pinned one of hers. His eyes
scrutinized hers intensely. "You think that's all last night meant
to me—a good time?"

Samantha pulled her hand back abruptly,
ignoring the shock that went through her. She didn't want him to
touch her. Not now, not yet. She wished she had his ability to make
light of any and every situation but right now all she wanted to do
was cry. She averted her eyes and carried her cup and bowl to the
sink. Silently she rinsed them, aware of Jason's eyes on her back.
She gripped the counter tightly.

"I—I've never... you're only the second man
I've ever..."

"Made love with?" Jason came to stand behind
her. His hands on her shoulders were oddly comforting, despite the
fact that he was the sole source of her unease. "Once I found out
you'd been married, did you think I didn't know that?" His warm
breath stirred her hair. "You're a rare breed, Samantha. There
aren't many women left like you. There aren't enough like you."

There was something elusive about those
words, something hidden just below the surface. She couldn't grasp
it at the moment. There was too much going on inside her, too many
conflicting emotions. But Jason's voice was like warm honey
flowing over her. She wasn't aware of the tight coil of tension
inside her until she relaxed a little.

He pulled her back until she leaned against
him willingly. His arms slipped around her waist, the slender line
of her back fit snugly against the solid warmth of his chest, and
her head fell back naturally against the place where his shoulder
joined his neck.

"Are you still embarrassed about David
walking in on us?"

"He probably thinks I'm the type to fall in
bed with just anybody," she muttered. "He knows you've only been
here a few weeks, Jason!"

A soft laugh sounded in her ear. "Anyone who
took the time to know you would realize you would never do
something so—-" she could feel his smile against her cheek
"—-impulsive."

"And now you're making fun of me again!" she
grumbled. "He might be your friend but I'm glad he's gone. I don't
think I could even look him in the eye!"

Jason turned her to face him, his hands
resting lightly on her waist. "For all your reading on the subject
of sex—" he teased lightly "—you're not very worldly. Not that I'd
change a thing about you," he added hastily on seeing her mouth
open.

Samantha finally relented and smiled.
"That's different. There's no one in the room with me!"

He laughed and brushed his lips over her
forehead, his eyes twinkling. "I have the perfect solution
should

David ever arrive so unexpectedly again," he
said smoothly.

Her mouth turned down at the corners. "And
that is?"

His eyes traveled slowly over her face before
coming to rest on her mouth. His own was no longer smiling.
"Marry me, Samantha," he said softly. "Marry me."

Shock rippled through her in wave after wave.
Samantha opened her mouth, then closed it, and opened it again,
feeling like a puppet whose string was being pulled. He sounded
perfectly serious, she thought in amazement, and yet he couldn't
be.

She walked into the living room and sat down
on the sofa numbly. It couldn't be happening. Yet it was. "This is
silly," she thought with a shake of her head.

"Silly?" She wasn't even aware that she had
spoken until Jason dropped down beside her. "You call it silly
when a man asks you to marry him?"

Samantha stared at him. "Yes, silly!" she
protested. "Someone walks in and finds us in bed together and you
ask me to marry you? It—it's like something out of one of your
books—" she waved her hands in the air "—where the characters only
get married because of duty... or honor.''

"As you once pointed out, my heroes aren't
usually very honorable—especially at first. And they are never,
and I repeat never, forced to do something against their will, even
though it might take them a while to realize it," he assured her
gravely, a faint light twinkling in his eyes.

"But that doesn't have a thing to do with
us!" A faint suspicion stirred inside her. "Are you playing games
with me again?" she demanded hotly. "All along you've been setting
me up.. .that bit about being a hero with your big rescue scene,
playing at being a modern-day Romeo, sending all those balloons,
trying to soften me up with all those lovesick lines!"

She jumped to her feet and glared at him.
"Did you decide to single me out just to have a little fun? Did you
pick on me because I'm so—so damned sentimental?"

"Samantha, you're taking this all wrong." He
chuckled a little as he dragged her down beside him. Arms like
bands of steel wrapped tightly around her rigid form. She knew from
experience there was little use in trying to get away from him. She
wasn't sure if she was more angry or hurt, but to her distress, hot
angry tears burned her throat.

"Maybe you'd prefer the more traditional
approach." The next thing she knew Jason was down on his knees
before her, one of her icy hands clamped tightly in both of his.
"Will you marry me, Samantha?"

All her anger fled at his soft words. "Why...
why are you doing this?" she asked weakly.

"Why?" His fingers traced a sensitive pattern
on the inside of her wrist, "You just accused me of being

a Romeo—and it's true. After what Natalie did
to me I didn't want any kind of serious relationship with a woman.
And then I met you. You were different, right from the start.
You're all the things I forgot existed in a woman. You're sweet and
innocent and yet you're the sexiest lady I've ever known. But
you're also the strongest woman I know."

Samantha shook her head in protest. "I'm
not—"

His fingers against her mouth stifled the
words. "You are." He smiled rather crookedly. "Not many women could
watch their marriage end in divorce and survive with all their
romantic ideals intact. You're a winner, a survivor."

Her hps trembled. If she was so strong, why
was she filled with such fear? Such doubt and uncertainty?
"Jason..."

"Remember when we met, and you said you
expected fireworks and skyrockets, and maybe even a few shooting
stars?" She nodded slowly. "I feel that way every time I look at
you," he said quietly. "I light up inside whenever I'm with you."
His eyes were very soft as he looked at her. "You're in my every
thought, Samantha. The way you look, your eyes, your mouth." His
fingers gently caressed her features. "The way you feel, so soft
and sweet whenever I hold you." One finger slid down to trace the
shape of her breast, circling with exquisite tenderness around the
throbbing peak.

Her body tightened at the caress, and her
throat swelled shut. She was too full of emotion to speak.

"Be the keeper of my heart, Samantha," he
urged softly. "Marry me."

Her eyes clung to his. She saw the world
reflected in those clear brown depths—her dreams and her
fantasies, her hopes and her prayers. She choked off a half-sob.
The words were like a treasure trove of gold and diamonds, but
unless they came straight from the heart, they meant nothing. If
only that odd half-smile weren't playing about his lips. If only
she could believe he meant every word he said.

But where did the writer end and the man
begin?

She didn't know. Heaven help her, she didn't
know.

"Jason." Her voice shook. This was a dream,
an illusion. It couldn't be happening. She pulled gently away from
his grasp and rose numbly. Before she knew it she was running
blindly to the bedroom and pulling a suitcase from the closet.

"Samantha."

"What?" She scarcely heard his voice over the
thundering of her heart. She opened a dresser drawer and, pulling
out a handful of underwear, threw it into the open case.

"What are you doing?" His voice, for all its
quietness, was utterly demanding. He was no longer smiling.

"What does it look like? I'm packing."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?" She whirled around to face
him. "You come and go as you please. Can't I?"

The merest suggestion of a smile lifted his
lips. "This is rather sudden." He picked up a scrap of silk that
had fallen to the floor. It made her heart ache when she saw it was
the underwear dotted with hearts that had caught his attention the
day after they met. It seemed years ago.

"Rather sudden?" She gave a slightly
hysterical laugh. "That's supposed to be my line."

"Where are you going, Samantha?"

She shook her head. "I don't know—anywhere.
Anywhere away from you." There was a stunned silence, and she
looked up at Jason, her eyes a little wild. A flash of hurt crossed
his face, and his eyes were dark with bewilderment.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," she muttered. She sat
down on the bed and lifted shaking hands to her temples. Marriage .
. . to Jason! She should have been elated, ecstatic! But all she
could think was that he was absolutely crazy! She could only
repeat what was racing through her mind. The words tumbled out in a
rush. "I didn't expect this from you. The last thing I expected
was a marriage proposal!"

He sat down beside her, but must have sensed
her desire not to have him touch her. If he had, she felt as if
she'd shatter into a million pieces!

"Don't you know what you want, Samantha?" He
gave her a long searching look.

"Yes.. .no!" she said shakily. "Oh, damn!
Right now I don't feel I even know myself very well, let alone what
I want!" She raised pleading eyes to his. "Please, I just need some
time to think this through, and I can't do it with you around."

Jason studied her for a very long time. "All
right," he finally said slowly, apparently satisfied with what he
saw. "But I want to know where you'll be."

She took a deep, steadying breath. "I'll be
at my mother's." She watched as he started toward the door. "
Jason... you'll be here when I get back?" She couldn't stop the
quaver in her voice.

The room grew very still, but the air was
suddenly leaping with currents. Samantha didn't realize how tightly
she gripped the edge of the mattress until she heard his voice.

"I'll be here," he promised gravely.

***

Her mother was pleasantly surprised to see
her again so soon. "Samantha! My goodness, you just left a week
ago!" Lillian Reed laughed. "Aren't you a little old to be homesick
so much?"

Samantha took one look at her warm welcoming
smile and burst into tears.

Five days later there were no more tears
left, but she was no nearer a decision about marrying Jason,
either. She was afraid to say no, and even more afraid to say
yes.

He'd walked her to her car the day she left,
looking strangely somber. She had felt guilty as she noticed the
deepening grooves near his mouth, the faint lines above his
forehead. She knew her reaction had surprised him as much as his
proposal had stunned her.

She could hear her mother bustling around in
the kitchen, finishing the after-dinner dishes, the opening and
closing of cupboard doors. Familiar sounds, comforting sounds. She
looked around the small living room of the two-bedroom bungalow
she and her mother had shared after her father had made his final
disappearance—the cushioned chintz-covered chairs, the old rocking
chair draped with an afghan near the fireplace, the small oak desk
where she'd diligently studied for all her high-school exams. This
house had been the first place she had ever really called home, and
she'd always felt a special kind of peacefulness and security here
in this room.

Until now. Now there was a strange
restlessness inside her that wouldn't be denied.

She sighed and joined her mother in the
kitchen where she was pouring a fresh cup of coffee for both of
them.

Lillian sat down across from her. "You know
you're going to have to give Jason an answer sooner or later," she
said quietly, then gave her daughter an odd look. "You shouldn't
avoid it any longer."