A Chance Encounter (10 page)

Katie grinned, her fingers gripping his hard, muscular shoulders. Hair clung to her face, and she blinked away the water. “Well, go ahead. Get even with me. Scorpio’s love revenge.”

He gave her an intense look and drew her to him. “I extract my revenge my way,” he growled.

Katie was unprepared. Her breath caught in her throat as his mouth captured hers. He was warm and strong and tasted of tart apple. A quiver sang through her body as he molded her body to his; the water was cool, his flesh hot. With a sigh, she settled her arms on his shoulders, feeling the heavy beat of his heart. And as she felt his maleness harden against her, fire leaped crazily through her. Each nip of his mouth made her dizzy with need.

“Taylor,” she whispered, her breath ragged against his mouth, “I want you…so badly.

His hands followed the contours of her body, sliding down over her hips, pinning her against him, letting her know just how much he hungered for her, too. He was aware of her nipples hardening against his chest, the flutter of her heart. There was nothing fragile about Katie now. She was all woman, responding to him and driving him to the edge of reason. Taylor knew if he didn’t stop, she would carry him over that barrier of no return. He had great self-control; but once it was breached, he couldn’t go back….

With a groan, he gently eased Katie away. He saw the disappointment shadowed in her eyes, and felt bad. Words—the deeply personal words that came so hard to him—were not there to explain why he had broken the intimacy that simmered between them.

“Come on,” he said thickly, releasing her. “Let’s lie on the bank and get some sun. I’m cold.” Liar. He throbbed with a fiery heat, and he ached to make love to her. The hurt in Katie’s eyes made him feel even worse as he took her hand and helped her from the water. He dropped an arm across her shoulders and steered her around the lake toward their towels.

Her skin still glistened with water and after she plopped down on her belly, Taylor took his towel and dried her off. She smiled, head resting on her arms.

“You know, I didn’t realize how long your hair is,” Taylor murmured, running several strands through his fingers. Damp silk, he thought as he allowed the strands to fall back across her shoulder.

“It’s about halfway down to my waist,” Katie said, closing her eyes. Taylor’s touch made her feel like a cherished gift, and she almost forgot the earlier hurt of his withdrawal. “But it’s so curly that when it’s dry, it looks much shorter than it really is.”

He spread his damp towel and eased himself down on it. Mere inches separated them; the sun felt good on his skin. “I like your hair,” he said. “When I first saw you, I was sure you were a Gypsy fortune teller.”

Katie chuckled. “You weren’t far from wrong.”

“You don’t tell fortunes. You heal with your hands.”

She opened her eyes, met his and in that instant, knew he was serious. “You’ve finally accepted that I can heal?”

“You sound skeptical.”

She smiled. “I am. What changed your mind?”

“You.”

“What do you mean, Taylor?” Her heart beat harder, and she realized that his answer was very important to her. Something miraculous was taking place between them, and she couldn’t quite believe it. Taylor had been so suspicious of her. Hadn’t he all but called her a fake in his article? Now he looked almost boyish, damp hair grazing his brow, the harsh lines gone from his face.

“It’s you, Katie. I can’t explain it. I see you differently now. Hell, I can’t explain it—I can only feel it. Spending these last few days with you has changed my mind.”

A feeling of warmth flowed through Katie, and she savored it. “So, now that you believe in me—do I become a specimen to be studied?”

Taylor blinked. “A specimen?”

“Yes.”

“Hell no!”

“Don’t take offense.”

“I do.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He relaxed slightly, wanting to cup her delicate face and kiss her. And she must have read the intention in his eyes, because she propped herself up, leaned over and placed her lips directly on his. She was sweet, her breath moist across his cheek, and he groaned.

“Katie, no…” he said thickly.

She broke contact, studying him from beneath her lashes. “Why not, Taylor?”

He shook his head. “Look,” he said hoarsely, “I try to maintain semblance of control, but you’re making it tough.”

“But I want you.”

Shaken by her honesty, Taylor reached up, caressing her cheek. “Katie—”

“Is it that you don’t want me? Is it because you see me as…as different, Taylor?”

He heard the pain in her voice; he saw it in her eyes. Cursing, Taylor sat up. He took her hands in his. “It has absolutely nothing to do with that, sweetheart. Absolutely nothing.” And suddenly he remembered that Katie had told him her fiancé had dropped her for that very reason. “Is that what you think? That I see you as a freak of some kind and therefore don’t want you?”

Katie nodded and turned away from him.

“No!” he said roughly. “Katie, you’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever met. And more than anything else, I want you. Do you hear me? I’ve never ached like this for a woman. You tie me in knots. Every time you look at me with those huge, soulful eyes of yours, I go nuts.”

She turned her head to meet his thunderous eyes. “Then why do you push me away? Can a kiss shared be so wrong?”

Taylor took an unsteady breath. “Listen to me,” he began. “When I kiss you I want to go far beyond that, Katie. I don’t have any control when it comes to you.” He looked toward the lake. “And dammit, you’re not the sort of woman who has casual relationships. I could never hurt you, Katie. I would never want to. And I’m just not sure—”

He wanted to tell her that if he made love to her, she would—and should—expect a commitment from him. A lasting one. And right now, Taylor was still too haunted by his past, by his divorce; he couldn’t think clearly. He couldn’t let himself hurt Katie just because he was still battling his past. She deserved a hell of a lot better than that. And before anything happened between them, he wanted to be sure he could give it.

“Look,” he went on, “I’ve hurt you once already. Deeply. I never expected to grow so close to you, Katie. Or—” The word
love
nearly escaped his lips, and this shocked him. “I’m still suffering over my divorce. I’m still reeling from all the changes I’ve been through. And I won’t drag you through them with me. As much as I want to—and as much as I want you right now. But I’ll be damned if I’ll add to your problems. You’ve got enough already. Some of which I have caused. I’ll never forgive myself for that article, dammit. And how, in addition to the reporters hounding you, you’ve got some nut job threatening your life. You don’t need me to contribute any more problems than those I’ve already inflicted.”

She tried to smile. “Thanks, Taylor,” she said, squeezing his hands.

“Thanks for what?” he growled.

“For being honest with me and for being yourself.” I love you for that, Katie added silently. And she did. There was no rhyme or reason for the feelings in her heart; she only knew that Taylor was special as no other man had been before. Where would all of this lead? He had been wounded by his divorce. He had hurt her in another way. Taylor saw only his failings; he knew little of what was good about himself. Katie smiled and leaned over to place a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“This evening?”

“Yes?” he said, puzzled.

“Will you help me make dinner?”

Taylor groaned and flopped back down on the towel, throwing an arm across his eyes. “Katie, I’m the world’s worst cook. I burn water.”

“If you insist on living with me until we catch my threatening caller, you’re going to have to pull your own weight, Taylor Grant. That means cooking, too.” Somehow, Katie would begin to show him that he wasn’t such a bad person after all. She planned to do it through little things. For Katie, it was the small, thoughtful gestures that counted the most between people. Her eyes grew tender as she stared down at Taylor. The cosmos worked in strange and unexpected ways, she thought. And she was glad.

The phone was ringing when Katie opened, the door. Her smile disappeared as Taylor walked over to answer it.

“Probably just another damn reporter harassing you,” he said. The afterglow from their beautiful day together shattered around her, and Katie barely nodded, locking the door behind her. She purposely blocked out the call and went to the bathroom to shower and change.

Taylor was grim when she reappeared, dressed in a pale pink sundress.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’ve got to go, Katie. That was a call from my office. There’s been a hazardous-materials spill twenty miles from here, and Dean Gerus, the editor in chief, wants Barry and me to cover it. The spill is pretty big, and the stuff is poisonous as hell. Lives could be lost. It’s a big story. It’s my job, Katie. I can’t turn it down.”

Taylor ran his fingers through his hair and walked over to her. She was smiling up at him. His frown disappeared as he drank her in. He settled his hands on her small shoulders. “You’re like a butterfly; every time you change, it’s into something prettier and more colorful.”

Katie continued to smile, but it took all her effort. “Thank you. Taylor. Be careful. My intuition tells me you’re right—this is dangerous.” Her eyes turned dark with pleading, and she slipped her arms around him. “Promise?”

Sighing and thinking that this woman was all he wanted for the rest of his life, Taylor rested his head against her freshly washed hair. “For you, I’ll be careful.”

A shiver of longing coursed through Katie, and she lifted her head. She was not to be disappointed. His mouth moved gently across hers, and for one magical moment she lost herself in his fiery, tender touch. She had stolen a moment from reality, here in his arms. She wanted nothing more. Ever.

Taylor eased Katie from his arms and caressed the curling ends of her hair lightly. “Sorry I won’t be able to help you cook dinner.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted it anyway. We were going to make tofu surprise.”

He grinned. “Tofu surprise? You’re right. I don’t even know what tofu is.”

Earlier in the day Taylor had checked all the locks on the windows, so he knew they were secure. Katie was in the kitchen, whipping up tofu surprise. Actually, the smell issuing from that room wasn’t so bad, Taylor conceded, as he threw a lightweight linen sports jacket over one shoulder. His mouth watered. He was hungry. One look at Katie in a bright, red-checked apron that stood out gaily against the pink sundress, and he was a man starved. He wanted to tell her that the colors she wore would be gaudy and mismatched on anyone else. And then he smiled because Katie’s naturalness far outshone anything she wore, or didn’t wear….

“I’m going, Katie. Make sure you lock the door after me. And don’t answer it. If the reporters start hounding you again, take the phone off the hook.”

“I’ll be okay, Taylor.” She quickly tossed snow peas, water chestnuts and a handful of cashews into the wok, preparing to stir-fry them. “You’re the one who has to be careful. Do you have the key?”

Taylor held it up. “Right here. I’ll be back as soon as I can, Katie. Don’t worry about me.”

Don’t worry about him
, Katie fumed to herself, gnawing on her lower lip. She had slipped into a white cotton nightgown that brushed her ankles. The clock read midnight. Taylor had been gone seven hours already. He’d called her by cell phone four hours earlier, telling her he was okay. Only a few people knew her cell number, thank goodness. She went to the closet and retrieved the sheets and blankets. She knew very little about hazardous-material spills, only that they were dangerous. Was Taylor being careful? Would he take foolish risks to get his story?

She fluffed the pillow and placed it at one end of the settee, snuggling beneath the sheet and lightweight blanket. Tonight Taylor could have the bed. He was simply too long for this little couch. True to Taylor’s prediction, the phone had begun to ring with reporters’ queries shortly after he left, and the receiver now lay beside it on the table. As much as she wanted to put it back—she felt very cut off this way—she knew it wasn’t wise. She had called Maud earlier and learned that several reporters had been to the bookstore during the day, looking for Katie.

“I told them you went to San Diego,” Maud had chortled in pleased tones. “At least I got rid of ’em for you temporarily.”

A smile played on Katie’s lips as she closed her eyes, thinking of Maud’s warm countenance. Without her friends and Taylor, she would have been defenseless. Hugging the pillow in her arms, Katie sighed and slipped into a deep sleep, her dreams brilliant, colorful and pleasant because Taylor was in them.

At three in the morning, the parking lot behind Katie’s building was empty. The lights of the Toyota Camry stabbed through the darkness as Taylor made the final turn into the lot. Out of habit, he let his gaze sweep the shadowy recesses of the poorly lit brick structure. He froze. And then blinked once to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. There! He slammed on the brakes as he saw a man’s figure dart from the doorway of Katie’s bookstore. Taylor jerked the car door open and leaped out.

“Hey!” he thundered and then took off in pursuit. “STOP!”

The sound of metal grating against metal broke the dark silence of the early morning hour. Katie moved slightly, but did not awaken. In her dreams she watched the brass doorknob move slowly to the left. The distinct click of the latch followed. Light slitted through the opening as the door moved, and the shadowy form of a man slipped silently through.

Taylor rubbed his smarting eyes as he shut the door quietly and locked it behind him. He was still breathing hard. His shirt clung damply to his chest and back. Dammit, he hadn’t caught the intruder.

Was this Katie’s anonymous caller? Or was it someone else, drawn to Katie due to all the damn publicity Taylor had caused? Agitated, he stood for a few moments, staring through the junglelike living room. In the pale glow of a single lamp, he saw that Katie was fast asleep on the settee. A warmth spread through him, easing his tension. At last a tired smile creased Taylor’s face as he moved over to where she slept. There was a hand-scribbled note on the coffee table, and he leaned down to retrieve it.

‘Take the bed, Taylor. You’re too long for this settee and it’s just right for me. Wake me when you get home. Katie.”

Exhaustion lapped at him as he studied the note and then her serene face. Home. How good that sounded! It was almost as if…as if they were married. The thought lingered in Taylor’s mind. Katie’s blanket had slipped off sometime earlier, and he bent to pull it over her again. He was sweaty and dirty, and all he wanted was a hot shower and sleep. The note notwithstanding, he didn’t want to wake her. He kissed her cheek instead and got up, moving through the apartment, which smelled of the freshly picked lilacs that stood in vases on the windowsill and the coffee table.
Katie’s world,
he thought, his heart wrenching with fear for her. Her beautiful world filled with flowers, fairy tales and untarnished ideals…

Katie awoke at seven, right on the button. Sleepily she rubbed her eyes and sat up. The note was no longer on the table, so she knew Taylor was home. Why hadn’t he woken her? Her heart picked up in cadence and she moved across the sunlit room to the bedroom where the door was ajar. Taylor’s snores punctuated the stillness, and Katie smiled wistfully. Her heart expanded with such incredible joy that she was momentarily suffocated.

Taylor lay on his stomach. Both pillows were on the floor, and he was sprawled out over half the bed, with no covers on him. His dark hair feathered across his brow, and his features were relaxed in deep sleep. Katie’s heart mushroomed as she spotted her note in his closed fist. She ached to go to him, slip into bed next to him, ask him to love her. Katie closed her eyes, realizing that this wasn’t the time. Not yet. She had sensed how fragile Taylor was—how confused about his divorce and about his feelings for her. Quietly she slipped into the room to retrieve a fresh dress for the day. Taylor wanted her, but he respected himself—and her—enough to wait. Katie found that endearingly old-fashioned, yet it was a quality she would want in the man with whom she fell in love.

Katie moved carefully to the closet, trying not to bump into anything. She had no idea when Taylor had come in, but the way he was sleeping, she suspected it was late. This morning, she would try to be extra quiet. A tough order for a clumsy Sagittarian! She smiled, feeling brilliant and alive as the sunlight that flooded her bedroom.

“Katie girl,” Maud greeted her. The older woman, dressed in a Hawaiian print muumuu, was seated on the floor in the midst of a stack of newly arrived books.

“Hi, Maud. What are you doing down there? You know we made an agreement. You work on your feet, I work on my knees. I’m younger than you.”

Maud’s grin widened. “You’re looking fit this morning, Katie.” Katie smiled. She had dressed in a bright red peasant blouse, a pink sash and a purple skirt with white sandals.

Still smiling, she placed fresh bouquets of lilacs on each of the reading tables. “I had a wonderful day yesterday, Maud.”

“Humph, you mean Taylor Grant finally made up for all the grief he’s caused you?” Maud slowly rose from her knees.

Color stained Katie’s cheeks as she put lilacs on the last table. “You still don’t like him, do you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Maud said, seating herself behind the desk.

“Ouch!” Katie collided with a stack of books, then reached down to retrieve them. Her big toe smarted from the impact. “What do you think of him, Maud?”

“He’s a reporter.”

Katie put the books on the desk, giving Maud a distressed look. “He has also apologized, and is trying to rectify things.”

“That’s in his favor.”

The hint of a smile appeared on Maud’s face. “Look at me!” Katie demanded.

Maud lifted her head, barely about to contain her grin.

“Aha!” Katie cried. “Just as I thought. You do like him!”

“I think it’s more important if you like him,” Maud replied, a lively twinkle in her brown eyes.

Katie sighed and rested against the desk. “He’s wonderful, Maud….”

“But not perfect.”

“No…but then, who among us is? He’s been deeply hurt by his divorce. He’s afraid to reach out to love again….”

“Welcome to the real world.”

Katie laughed, placing her hand on Maud’s shoulder. “You just pretend to be old and crotchety!”

Maud patted Katie’s hand and nodded, her face softening. “He’s not such a bad guy.”

Brightening, Katie nodded. She looked at the wall clock. It was nearly eight, time to open. Already she saw several reporters waiting. “I like him, Maud. A lot.”

“I know you do, lamb. Now, listen to me! You’ve got a busy schedule today. This afternoon you’ll be at Dr. Abrams’s veterinary hospital from two o’clock on. He called about it yesterday. He’s got a whole slew of animals that need you.”

“And we have to do inventory tonight, don’t we?” Katie hated inventory.

“Afraid so.” Maud glared at the reporters outside. “If I can get those pesky reporters out of here, I’ll start this afternoon.” She winked at Katie. “Maybe we can get a head start.”

Katie glumly agreed. Numbers and figures weren’t her thing. If it weren’t for Maud’s keen eye, she’d never be able to keep the accounting straight. Her mind moved to a more pleasant thought: that Taylor was asleep upstairs. Suddenly, despite the thought of inventory, and despite the reporters outside, Katie felt happier than she had in a long time.

Taylor pried one eye open, then the other. Soft classical music floated through the apartment, and he rolled over. Noon. It was noon! With a growl, he rolled out of bed and sat up, rubbing his stubbly face.

“Ah, you’re up.”

He raised his head. Katie stood in the doorway, wearing a bright green apron and holding a wooden spoon in one hand. Automatically, he felt himself harden in need. She looked so clean and pretty.

“Barely,” he muttered. “Why’d you let me sleep so long? I’ve got to get to the office.”

“What a grouch! Guess I’d better watch it!” She laughed and walked to the bathroom, turning the faucets in the tub. “Come on, a nice hot bath will do wonders.”

How could Katie be cheery when Taylor felt exhausted? Sluggishly, he rose.

“You wouldn’t have any coffee in the house, would you?”

“You think vegetarians don’t drink coffee?” she teased. “I’ll make some. How do you like it?”

“Black and strong,” he muttered.

Katie held her tongue after this—Taylor didn’t seem up to repartee. Her heart went out to him. “Coffee coming up,” she promised.

“When it’s ready, bring it in to me, Katie, please?”

“You got it. Are you hungry?”

“I don’t even know if I’m alive yet.”

He was shaving when Katie knocked lightly at the door. “Come on in,” he called.
Ouch! Dammi
t! He had cut himself again. Taylor glared into the steamy mirror.

Katie opened the door and entered. She set the mug of coffee on the porcelain basin. “Looks like you cut yourself.”

“Don’t rub it in,” he muttered, looking around for something to press against his latest wound.

Katie tried to ignore the masculine body, clad only in a towel wrapped haphazardly at the waist. “Hold still,” she said and lightly applied her fingertip to the cut on his jaw.

Taylor’s hooded eyes widened as he felt the intense heat from her touch. A tingling sensation seemed to focus in on his jaw, and he stood very still.

“Being the personal friend of a healer has certain benefits,” she teased. “When I was a kid and cut my finger or scraped my knee, I’d always run to my mother so she could touch me. She always took away the pain, and that was all I cared about. Well, that should do it.” She looked at the small cut, satisfied. “There’s your coffee. By the time you’re through in here, you ought to be awake.” She turned around and left.

“I’ll be damned,” Taylor muttered, touching his jaw. It felt funny, the tingling sensation slowly dissolving from the locus of his injury. Taking a towel, he wiped steam from the mirror to look closely at the cut. His bloodshot eyes widened slightly. What had once been a deep gash was now a faint pink mark. His pupils dilated, and he angled his jaw closer to the mirror. Impossible! He’d been bleeding seconds before! Katie had applied no direct pressure to the cut. He dropped his hands to the sink, staring down at the basin. Confusion overwhelmed him momentarily. Grabbing the mug of coffee, he burned his tongue as he took a huge swallow.