Wish on the Moon (7 page)

"Mandy has a visitor."

Laura didn't understand for a moment until
her gaze followed his. Puffball was curled on the spread next to
Mandy's knees. "She sleeps with Mandy at home."

Mitch rested his hand high on the door frame
just above her head. "I always thought cats were independent."

He was long all over. Long fingers, long
arms, long legs, long waist. Catching herself before she could
dwell on a picture of him naked, she responded, "They're like
people. They project an aloof image but they crave affection and
attention too."

"Not everyone craves affection and
attention."

"That's a macho attitude that causes more
problems than it's worth." She knew she should watch her tongue but
she'd never done that very well.

No longer looking casual, he took his hand
from the polished wood. "It has nothing to do with macho. It
concerns priorities."

"What priority tops your list?" she
challenged, wondering why had he the power to rouse her.

"The business. Creating beautiful pieces of
jewelry."

"You don't need someone to hold you and hug
you and tell you you're wonderful?"

His body language became defensive as he
crossed his arms over his chest. "Talk show psychology doesn't
interest me."

She blew out a breath. He sounded just like
her father, who denied his feelings at all costs. "Psychology has
nothing to do with it. Feelings do. Human beings need warmth and
each other." She looked Mitch up and down. "But then maybe you and
my father are the exceptions. Steel hearts. Nothing can penetrate
them." She thought she'd outgrown the bitterness, but she could
hear it in her voice.

Mitch didn't defend himself. "You don't know
your father if you can say that."

How she wanted to. Her throat constricted and
she knew tears weren't far behind. "If I don't know him, it's
because he never let me in." Reaching for the doorknob, she said,
"Good night, Mitch. I'll see you in the morning."

When she shut the door, she leaned against it
and took several deep breaths. After a few moments, she heard
Mitch's footfalls grow faint as he walked down the hall.

***

Sipping coffee from a paper cup, Mitch
covertly watched Laura. Her canary yellow slacks and orange sweater
with yellow flowers made her the center of focus in the drab
waiting room. A middle-aged man across the room glanced at her
every few minutes and looked as if he'd like to start a
conversation. She seemed oblivious to him and her surroundings, her
chin tucked down as she read the novel she'd begun on the
plane.

Mitch drained his cup and stood. "Laura, I'm
going for more coffee. Would you like a cup?"

She put her book on the chair and rose. "No,
but I'll walk with you. I can't get my insides to settle down."

So she was worried. He studied her face.
Little if no makeup. A hint of copper shadow over her eyes. A touch
of lipstick. She looked pale.

His elbow grazed her arm as they walked down
the corridor; he wondered if he'd get used to the jolt of
electricity he felt each time they touched, however innocuously. "I
wonder how it's going."

"I wish they'd give us half hour reports or
something."

Mitch hooked his thumb in the pocket of his
khaki trousers, considering the best way to approach a subject they
needed to discuss. "I talked to Ray's cardiologist when he decided
to have the surgery."

She looked at him, her grey eyes wide with
interest. "What did he say?"

Mitch had expected her to be defensive. "The
operation briefly stops the heart. That's quite a blow to absorb.
Ray's outlook when he comes home is vitally important. If he sees
himself as an invalid rather than a recovering patient, it will
take him longer to get back on his feet. Psychological recovery is
as important as physical recovery."

"I can't see my dad acting as an invalid,"
she said wryly.

"It depends on how he looks at his life--if
he focuses on what he can't do rather than what he can do. Heart
bypass patients often spend the time reevaluating their lives and
sometimes get depressed because their life hasn't been what they
wanted or planned."

"Did the doctor tell you this?" She appeared
surprised he knew as much as he did.

He had pored over medical literature,
learning what he could about Ray's chances of surviving surgery,
complications, aftereffects. "I've done some reading. Family
support and involvement in recovery is as important as medication
and post-op care. And he needs plenty of time for recovery. If he
pushes it because he thinks he has to get back to work, the stress
can be damaging."

She didn't slow her step. "I'll be staying
the six weeks. I called the district manager this morning before we
left. But six weeks is all I can manage. He made it clear if I stay
longer, I won't have a job when I go back."

Mitch was relieved. If Ray wanted her here,
she was important to his recovery. Trying to reassure her, he said,
"I'm sure Ray will give you money if you need it--"

She stopped, her eyes flashing silver. "I
don't want his money. I'm not staying to get paid."

Mitch didn't understand either the sadness or
anger reflected in her glare. Did she feel she'd managed the last
six years without him well enough that she didn't need to accept
anything Ray had to give now? If that was her attitude, Ray would
suffer. He was a generous man who liked to share his affluence.

"Did you know Ray gives a good bit of money
to local charities?"

"You think I fall into that category?"

Damn! He hadn't meant for it to sound like
that. "Of course not. I just meant if you give him the chance,
maybe he'll forget the past and help with Mandy. Education is
expensive."

Laura's color heightened, putting swaths of
pink on her cheeks. "Mandy needs love and affection and quality
time spent with her. We'll manage her education when the time
comes."

Mitch didn't understand the vehemence of her
words or her frustration. Of course Ray would spend time with his
grandchild, given the chance. Laura's "live for today" attitude
would hurt Mandy more than anyone. "Damn stubborn, aren't you?"

She looked as if she was going to explain,
then changed her mind. "As stubborn as my father. If we come to
an...understanding, it will have nothing to do with money."

He wondered what it did have to do with.

At the coffee bar, Mitch asked, "Sure you
don't want a cup?"

"What's in my stomach now doesn't want to
stay down." She waited until Mitch had paid and was holding the
coffee in his hand to ask, "You don't want me to have anything to
do with the business, do you?"

Why lie? "No."

"Why?"

She didn't pull any punches. He could be just
as blunt. "Because Ray and I have an agreement. We have our own
method of doing business, keeping bookwork, etc. You're going to be
here six weeks. If you reorganize, it will take that much time
after you leave to put everything back in order."

Instead of getting prickly or irate as he
expected, she said simply, "I know how to run a jewelry store,
Mitch."

Careful not to burn his tongue, he took a sip
of coffee, then lowered the cup. "You know how you run the store
you oversee. We don't work like a chain store."

"So you feel my input would be unnecessary
and uncalled for."

Part of him wanted to let her down easy, but
the other part that felt a pull toward her directed his answer.
"You can oversee the employees and sell as much merchandise as you
can, but it would be better if you stayed out of the business."

"How do you know that's what my father
wants?" she countered, with a threatening look that indicated she'd
do what she damn well pleased if she had anything to say about it.
"When he asked me to stay and help out, you were as surprised as I
was."

"He wants you near him, Laura. That's all.
Why can't you see that?"

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "You
don't know what you're talking about."

Her attitude confused him. Sometimes she
acted hurt, other times angry. What did she have to be hurt and
angry about? She was the one who ran away with the love of her
life. Ray hadn't deserted her...she had deserted him.

Mitch ran his hand over his jaw, noticing a
patch that wasn't as cleanly shaven as the rest. He'd been
distracted this morning, distracted by thoughts of Ray's surgery,
and he had to admit, distracted by thoughts of Laura dressing in
the room down the hall.

"We'd better get back to the waiting room,"
he said.

She nodded and he noted her fingers went to
the gold chain around her neck. She did that often. Had her husband
given it to her? Was it a talisman? Did it give her strength? He
fought the growing need to know more about her as they walked back
down the hall. But the more he learned about her, the more
disturbed he felt. Was it her complexity? They were sitting in the
waiting room, pretending to be interested in a TV talk show when
the cardiologist entered the room dressed in his green scrubs.
Mitch and Laura rose at the same time and crossed to him.

After Mitch introduced Laura to Dr. Carlson,
the doctor said, "The operation was successful. Only a double
bypass was necessary."

"When can we see him?" Mitch asked.

"This evening would be best. And only for
fifteen minutes at a time. Leave your numbers with the desk.
There's no reason for you to stay now. If there's a problem, I'll
call you."

"Is a problem likely?" Laura's voice
shook.

"I don't expect anything. But I can't give
you a guarantee. If you don't hear from me, come in around
seven."

The cardiologist left and Mitch turned to
Laura. She had wrapped her arms around herself and her lower lip
quivered. He wanted to pull her close and push her away at the same
time. It was damned unsettling. "He'll be fine, Laura."

The tears that trickled down her cheek were
almost Mitch's undoing. She wasn't trying to hide them and he
wished he could let his emotions flow as easily. The past few hours
had tied him in knots but a jog or a game of racquetball would have
to be his release.

A tear rolled down her nose. Compromising
with himself, he dropped his arm across her shoulders. But when she
turned into his chest, his other arm enclosed her naturally. Too
naturally. She was warm and small against him. Comfort her, a small
voice said. But a ripple of need percolated from his head to his
toes. The involuntary sexual tightening told him to drop his arms
and step back, but she was leaning against him. Her hair smelled
like the gardenias that had scented the bathroom last night.
Contrary to his resolve to withdraw, he couldn't help slipping his
hand under it to finally feel its texture. Soft and thick.
Seductive. Just like the rest of her.

He smoothed his hand down her back. The
ribbed knit of the sweater emphasized the straightness of her
spine. His thumb slipped and he felt her bra strap. Only one hook.
It must be another wisp of a thing like the one on her bed last
night. When his fingers reached her waist, he realized his hands
could almost span it.

Her heart beat fast. As her breast pushed
against his chest, he imagined holding it in his palm. Blazes! Why
couldn't he control his thoughts? He sucked in a breath and stood
perfectly still, his arms around her stiffly.

She raised her head and stared into his eyes.
There were questions there. It didn't matter. He dropped his arms
and stepped back. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
The gesture reminded him of a child's.

"Thank you." She drew in a steadying breath
and bit her lower lip. "I was more strung out than I thought."

Sun flew in the window and rested on her
upturned face. There were no marks, no flaws. The symmetry was
perfect. One half of a heart meeting the other in a delicate point.
Her honey brows were perfectly arched; her skin looked as pinkly
healthy as a baby's.

He fought the inclination to open his arms to
her again. He couldn't let her know how she affected him. Show
someone your vulnerability and they'd use it against you. "It's
been a rough couple of days."

"Rougher for you than me. You've known about
his condition longer."

The teariness still hung on her words.
"Laura, you might want to reconsider seeing him tonight. It might
be pretty grim."

She straightened her spine. "I won't fall
apart."

He touched her arm, his fingers lingering on
her skin despite himself. "Look, if just the tension from this
morning caused--"

"Nausea? A few tears? I don't hold in my
feelings. If they need to come out, I let them. Are you going to
hold that against me?"

He dropped his hand and it clenched into a
fist. "I'm only thinking of you."

"Really? Or do you want your face to be the
first one Dad sees?"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"Then don't worry about my well-being. Seeing
him will be better than what my imagination cooks up." She went to
the chair, shrugged into her poncho, and picked up her book.

For a moment he'd felt protective of her. But
it was clear she didn't want his protection although she had
accepted his comfort. Until it wasn't comfortable. They didn't mix.
She was as unpredictable as a shooting star. He was as predictable
as a light bulb. She believed feelings should be expressed and
shared. He'd found denying his feelings or keeping them to himself
was safer.

Six weeks and she'd be gone. That would be
best for everybody. Wouldn't it?

CHAPTER FOUR

Mitch stared at Laura as they stood by her
father's bedside that evening. He was sure she was going to crumble
in front of his eyes. She was as white as chalk, her gray eyes huge
as she stroked her father's hand. Mitch could read the love and
fear in her eyes. No matter what had happened in the past, at this
moment she obviously cared about Ray a great deal. His heart went
out to her because he felt the same helplessness she did.