Tell Me a Story (12 page)

Read Tell Me a Story Online

Authors: Dallas Schulze

BOOK: Tell Me a Story
9.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The return to earth was slow. Flynn lifted his head, feeling as if the entire world had been rearranged in the last few minutes. Ann lay still beneath him, her body lax, her face utterly peaceful. He kissed her, tasting her satisfaction in the softness of her mouth. He made to move away and her hands tightened on his hips.

"Don' go." The protest was slurred.

Flynn smiled, kissing her again. "I'll smash you."

He pulled away, seeing the faint moue of discomfort as he withdrew. His brows drew together as a vague suspicion began to form.

"Ann?"

"Umm?" She didn't open her eyes, didn't shift from her sprawled position.

"I have this funny feeling that you've never done this before."

He couldn't have gotten more results if he'd dropped a bomb in the middle of the bedroom. Her eyes flew open, her body tightened, all the lazy pleasure leaving her. She scrambled to pull the sheet over her, tucking it around her breasts defensively. He almost regretted the question. Her reaction gave him his answer even before she spoke.

"What makes you say that?"

He leaned on one elbow next to her, drawing one finger down her bare arm. "It wasn't an accusation, love." He smiled, coaxing her to relax again.

"I'm thirty years old. It isn't likely that I'd still be a...a..."

"Virgin? Ann, it's all right. Why are you so defensive about it?"

Her eyes shifted away from him. "It's ridiculous."

"It's surprising but not ridiculous. Nothing about you could ever be ridiculous."

"You don't think that I'm... frigid or repressed or something?"

"Haven't you heard? Therels no such thing as a frigid woman. Only an inept lover." His mouth brushed her shoulder and she shivered. He felt some of the tension ease from her.

"It's not that I have anything against sex, you know. It's just that I never had time for it. I don't mean that exactly. It's just that I've always felt like I had to prove that I'm worthy and I've worked so hard that I've never really had time to get close to other people."

Flynn's mouth cut off the tangled explanation, kissing her until he felt her soften, her hands coming up to clasp his shoulders. He wanted to go out and find her father and beat him to a pulp. Though the name hadn't been mentioned, he knew who it was that Ann was trying to prove her worth to. But he said nothing to her.

When he finally let her up for air, he was pleased with the slightly glazed look in her eyes. She looked like a woman who'd been well and thoroughly loved. The look pleased him.

"You don't owe me any explanations. But you should have told me sooner. I might have taken more time."

The look she gave him was half-shy, half-bawdy and all female. "If you'd taken any more time, I'd have exploded. You made it wonderful for me, Flynn. Thank you."

Flynn felt the color rise in his face. Blushing! She actually had him blushing. He laughed selfconsciously. "Don't thank me. Believe me, the pleasure was all mine."

He slid his arm beneath her shoulders, pulling her to his side. Ann's head snuggled into his shoulder, feeling so right that he wondered how he'd ever slept without her small body tucked against his. She was asleep within minutes.

It wasn't quite that easy for Flynn. Lying there, staring into the dimly lit room, he wondered at the changes that had overtaken his life. Three weeks ago, he'd had nothing more important on his mind than whether or not to fly to Switzerland for the ski season. Now, here he was with a little girl who looked to him to take care of her and Ann.

Just what was he going to do about Ann? He didn't even know what he wanted to do about Ann. Somehow, she'd gone from being his beautiful but hostile neighbor to feeling so right in his bed that he couldn't imagine doing without her.

He turned his head, inhaling the faint herbal scent of her hair. Making love to her had been like nothing he'd ever experienced before. She'd felt so good. He'd never found such total satisfaction in a woman. He reached up to shut out the light. Nothing could be decided tonight.

Tonight, he just wanted to savor the closeness, the warmth of her in his bed.

Chapter 8

A
nn woke up suddenly, with the feeling of panic that comes of knowing that you're not in your own bed but not knowing where you are. Realization came quickly but it did little to slow the pounding of her heart. She shifted gingerly, easing away from Flynn's hold until she could sit up.

Flynn continued to sleep as she gathered up her clothes and dressed. Her movements were furtive, as if she were a thief in the night. She snapped her jeans and jerked her shirt on, thrusting buttons through buttonholes without paying much attention to whether she was matching the right button with the right buttonhole.

She stole quick glances at Flynn, terrified that he would wake up before she could slip away. She couldn't face him right now. It was foolish, childish even, but she just needed to get away.

Once dressed, she hesitated for a moment, unable to resist the chance to study him when she didn't have to worry about those brilliant blue eyes watching her. In sleep, he looked younger than his thirty-three years. His mouth was softer, more vulnerable. His hair fell onto his forehead in that tantalizing black lock, and she clenched her fingers against the urge to push it back off his forehead.

The sheet lay draped across his waist, exposing the mat of curling dark hair that covered his chest. She flushed, remembering the feel of those crisp curls against her body. Her breasts tingled at the memory. Her eyes followed the line of hair as it tapered across his stomach and disappeared beneath the sheet. She flushed again as the line of her thoughts moved beyond what the sheet revealed.

Part of her wanted to climb back into bed and wake him. She wanted to find out if it was possible to know the kind of pleasure she remembered from the night just past. Surely, she must have dreamed the total satisfaction she'd felt. She backed away, physically resisting temptation. She hurried- from the room, carefully shutting the door behind her.

It was early. The light outside the balcony doors had the watery quality of dawn. The fire had burned to ashes on the hearth, not even a glowing ember to show what had been the night before. Ann picked up her shoes, trying not to think of what had begun here and ended in the bedroom.

Letting herself into her own apartment, she had a feeling of unreality. Oscar trotted toward her, meowing low in his throat, a questioning greeting. Ann wondered if he could see that something was different about her and then scolded herself for the foolish thought. The only thing Oscar could see was that she was home and it was morning and he was ready to be fed.

Ten minutes later, she stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom. Oscar was happily devouring his cat food and the apartment was still. The Ann who looked at her from out of the glass wasn't the Ann she'd known for thirty years. There was a new knowledge in her eyes. An awareness that hadn't been there before. She looked away from her reflection, uncomfortable with what she saw there, unwilling to deal with the changes just yet. She'd get dressed and go to the hospital. It was early but there was always work to be done. And, right now, she wanted to lose herself in work.


Flynn came awake slowly, feeling at peace with himself and the world in general. His hand went out but found only empty space. He opened his eyes, knowing that Ann was gone. A hint of her shampoo clung to the pillows, bringing vivid memories of how soft she'd felt in his arms.

He was disappointed that she was gone but a little relieved, too. This would give him a chance to figure out what he was going to say to her when they met again. Were they now lovers in the full sense of the word, or was she going to see last night as something that happened once but never again?

He wanted to be her lover. It surprised him to realize how badly he wanted that. He wanted her back in his bed, in his arms. He wanted to wake up next to her in the morning.

He got up and walked into the bathroom, turning the shower on full force and stepping under the warm spray. Becky would be up soon, if she wasn't up already. One thing he'd learned over the past weeks was that children didn't understand the idea of sleeping late. Mornings were for getting up, no matter what had gone the night before.

Becky. She'd been the catalyst to bring him and Ann together, but it was no longer possible to pretend that she was all that connected them.

Half an hour later, he left his bedroom and walked, barefoot, into the living room. Ann's shoes were gone but the pillows still lay on the floor in front of the fireplace and their wineglasses still stood on the wide hearth. He picked up the glasses and then turned at a sound behind him.

Becky stood in the hall doorway, her eyes stern with disapproval. "It's awful early to be drinking, Mr. Flynn. Are you going to get plastered again?"

Flynn grinned at her, not in the least put out by her scolding tone. "I haven't had a drop, urchin. These are from last night. Hungry?"

"Starved."

"Well, go comb your hair and I'll see what I can do about finding you some breakfast."


When the knock on the door came, Ann jumped, spilling milk on the counter. She grabbed a sponge to mop up the puddle, grimacing at the fine tremor in her hand. She'd known that she wouldn't be able to avoid Flynn forever. In fact, she'd known that she wouldn't even be able to avoid him all evening. But she hadn't expected him to come knocking on her door when she'd been home less than twenty minutes.

He was going to want to talk about last night and she wasn't ready to talk about it. She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready. This was one problem she hadn't been able to put aside by going to work. It had nagged at the back of her mind all day, like an aching tooth that couldn't be ignored.

The knock came again, and she dropped the sponge into the sink.

"I'll just tell him that I don't want to talk about it. After all, what's to discuss? We made love. People do it all the time. No big deal."

Oscar gave her a dubious look, as if he didn't believe her words any more than she did.

She pulled open the door to find Flynn's hand raised to knock a third time. All her carefully selected . phrases flew out of her head when she saw his face.

He looked old and tired. Deep lines bracketed his mouth, and there was a dull hurt in his eyes. He was far removed from the man she'd left sleeping only twelve hours ago.

"My God, Flynn. What's wrong?"

"They found Becky's mother. She's dead."


"You'resure Becky is all right alone?" Ann handed Flynn a cup of coffee.

"Thanks. Becky is plugged into a tape of Return of the Jedi. I don't think she'll come up for air for another hour, at least. I left the door open and she knows where we are if she needs something."

He took a swallow of the coffee, staring into the cup broodingly. "I just don't know how to tell her."

"I know." Ann sat down across from him with her own cup. "Tell me what Ms. Davis had to say."

"She came by this afternoon. I sent Becky out onto the balcony so we could talk. She said that they'd found Becky's mother. At first, I didn't know whether to be glad or sorry. I mean, I was glad for Becky's sake but I figured it meant that I was going to lose her and she sort of grows on you."

"I know." She did know. The thought of Becky going out of her life was a painful one.

Flynn set the cup down and leaned his head back against the chair, his face so weary that Ann wanted to smooth the lines away.

"Anyway, before I could say much of anything, she told me that Becky's mother had been found dead."

"Oh God. Poor little Becky. What happened to her? Do they know?"

He shook his head. "It's too soon to know much yet. All I know is that they found her body in one of the aqueducts. I guess they'll have to do an autopsy."

"Are they sure it's her?"

"The identification in the purse is hers and the landlady went in and gave positive ID just a couple of hours ago."

"Poor Becky."

There didn't seem to be anything else to say. After a long silence, Ann stirred, trying to gather her thoughts into some practical pattern.

"What did Ms. Davis say about Becky staying with you? They're not going to take her away now, are they?"

"No. She said that, under the circumstances, she thinks it would be cruel to remove Becky from our care. Becky feels safe here."

"That's something at least."

He stirred restlessly. "Not much in the face of her mother's death. And it's only temporary. They're going to try and find some record of Becky's father and contact him. If they can't find him or he doesn't want her, then she'll be put in a foster home."

Flynn surged to his feet, his long strides eating up the distance between sofa and door and then back

again. Ann watched him, uncertain of what to say to reassure him.

"You know, it isn't like the days of Jane Eyre. A lot of foster parents are really wonderful people."

"Sure. But what if she gets foster parents who aren't wonderful people? You know, she acts real tough on the outside but she's still just a little girl."

"I know." She watched him pace back and forth, his strides quick with pent up frustrations. "Maybe you could be her foster parent."

Flynn stopped and spun to face her so suddenly that Ann jumped. His eyes pinned her to the chair, bright blue with emotion. "Do you think I haven't thought of that? But what do I know about kids? I'm a bachelor. I don't even have a respectable job. Besides, a little girl needs a mother. And it wouldn't matter anyway because Davis made it clear that she had to work very hard convincing her superiors to let Becky stay with me. The only reason that they aren't taking her away immediately is because my parents have spotless reputations and she told them that Becky and I would be spending most of our time with them.

"Even that wouldn't have done it if she hadn't implied that the rest of the time you'd be around to protect Becky's impressionable young mind from any bad influences that I might exert. You'll be pleased to know, Dr. Perry, that your reputation is impeccable. Good thing they don't know that you spent last night in my bed."

The apartment was absolutely silent as they stared at each other. Color flooded Ann's face and then drained away, leaving her ashen. She stared at him for a long moment, hurt in her eyes before she looked , away, gathering her defenses around her like a cloak.

"I think—"

"Oh, God, I'm sorry, Ann." He covered the short distance between them in one long stride, dropping to one knee and taking her hands before she had a chance to draw away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't even know why I said it."

Ann looked anywhere but at his face. She felt very vulnerable and she didn't want him to see that vulnerability. "It's okay." She tugged on her hands but his fingers tightened over hers, denying release.

"No, it's not okay. I didn't mean to sneer about last night. That's the last thing in the world I meant to do. It was special." Unwillingly, her eyes were drawn to his face, reading the absolute sincerity there. Some of the ice that had settled around her heart melted.

"Was it special?" Ann hadn't meant to ask that. It sounded too young, too vulnerable.

His face softened magically, leaving Ann breathless. "It was incredibly special and I had no business throwing it in your face like that."

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't okay. It's just that it was pretty frustrating to realize that the only reason Becky was being allowed to stay with me was because you were around to make me look respectable. I've never thought of myself as quite that much of a rake and roue. I mean, I'm not a dedicated banker or lawyer but I'm hardly Don Juan, either. By the time Ms. Davis was through explaining all the half-truths she had to tell to get them to leave Becky here, I felt more like Jack the Ripper."

Ann's fingers tightened over his before pulling away. This time, he let her go. "It's all right. I know how worried you are about Becky."

"How do you tell a little girl that her mother is dead? That she'll never see her again?" The agony in his face made Ann's heart twist. Without thinking about it, she reached out to smooth the unruly lock of hair back from his forehead.

"We'll do it together. Becky's strong. She'll be okay."

"I just wish there was some way I could protect her from this."

"I know you do, Flynn. I know you do."

Other books

Wicked Woods by Steve Vernon
Wayward Winds by Michael Phillips
Space Plague by Zac Harrison
Til Death Do Us Part by Beverly Barton
Let Loose the Dogs by Maureen Jennings
Wildflower by Prudence MacLeod
A Pledge of Silence by Solomon, Flora J.