to Carla’s determinedly provocative display of affection. He and Carla had gone through school together. There was nothing between them—not now, not ever. But from the look on Dana’s face, he doubted she’d believe it.
As soon as Carla had gone back to the kitchen, Dana commented, “Interesting woman.”
“She and Dad are old friends,” Tony offered innocently.
“I’ll bet.”
Nick chuckled. “Her husband’s a friend of mine, too. Jack has the size and temperament of a tanker. Carla just loves to flirt outrageously with all her male customers. She says it keeps Jack on his toes.”
She grinned back. “I don’t doubt it for a minute. She’s very convincing.”
Nick feigned astonishment and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Don’t tell me you were jealous?”
“Of course not,” she denied heatedly.
But from that moment on, to Nick’s dismay the evening went from bad to worse. Rather than the natural, somewhat aggrieved banter he’d come to expect, Dana was making an effort to be polite and pleasant. Her laughter was strained and all too often her attention seemed to wander to a place where Nick couldn’t follow. Only with Tony was she completely at ease. A lesser man’s ego might have been shattered, but Dana’s behavior merely perplexed Nick.
Even in the small, friendly crowd at bingo, Dana seemed alienated and nervous, as though torn between wanting to make a good impression and a desire to retreat. Somehow he knew she suffered from more than shyness, but he couldn’t imagine what the problem was.
When he could stand the awkwardness no longer, he suggested they take a walk. Dana glanced up from her bingo card in surprise. They were in the middle of a game and she had four of five spaces for a diagonal win.
“Now?” she said.
“Sure. I need some air.” He saw her gaze go immediately to Tony, so he said, “You’ll be okay here for a few minutes, won’t you, son?”
“Sure, Dad. I’ll play your cards for you.” He looked as though he could hardly wait to get a shot at Dana’s.
With obvious reluctance Dana got to her feet and followed him outside. There was the clean scent of rain in the air. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.
“Seems like there’s a storm brewing,” he said, as they strolled side by side until the sounds from the fire station became a distant murmur.
“It is April, after all,” she replied.
The inconsequential conversation suddenly grated across his nerves. Nick was a direct man. Too direct for politics, some said. He had a feeling that’s what they’d be saying if they could see him now, but he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself another second.
“What’s troubling you, Dana? You’ve been jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof all night.”
“Sorry.”
He felt an unfamiliar urge to shake her until the truth rattled loose. In fact, he reached for her shoulders but restrained himself at the last instant, stunned by what he’d been about to do. No woman had ever driven him to such conflicting feelings of helplessness and rage before. “Dammit, I don’t want you to apologize. I want to help. Did I do something to upset you?”
Astonishment registered in her brown eyes before she could conceal it. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just the way you went all silent after I teased you about being jealous back at Gracie’s. You haven’t said more than two words at a time since then except to Tony.”
“Jealousy is a very negative emotion,” she responded slowly, her expression distant again. “It’s not something I like to joke about.”
“I take it you’ve had some experience.”
She nodded, but it was clear no personal confidences would be forthcoming. She had that closed look in her eyes, and it tore at him to see anyone hurting and seemingly so alone. The depth of his protectiveness startled him. It hinted of the sweet and abiding passion he’d felt only once before, with Ginny, whom he’d known all his life and who had hidden a gentle heart behind a determinedly tough tomboy facade. She’d accepted his protection only at the end, when cancer had riddled her body with pain.
Somehow he knew that Dana would be just as unwilling to permit him to take up her battles. Despite her vulnerability she had a resilience that he admired. He had been intrigued by her even before they’d met, because of her kindness to Tony. It had been uncalculated giving, unlike so many attempts he’d seen by single women to reach him through his son. Tony had sung her praises for days before Nick decided to meet her for himself. Her leaky roof had been no more than an excuse at first. Now he wondered if it might be the only link she would permit.
Suddenly Nick realized that Dana was shivering. He hadn’t noticed that the wind had picked up and that the air had cooled considerably as the storm blew in. He also hadn’t realized just how far they’d walked while he tried to sort out his thoughts.
“You’re cold,” he said. “Let’s go back.”
“Would you mind terribly if we just got Tony and left?”
Nick sighed. “I hope it’s not because I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth again.”
“No. It’s just that it’s getting late and I really am tired.”
Nick studied her face closely. He wanted to trace the shadows under her eyes, run his fingers along the delicate curve of her jaw, but he held back from that as cautiously as he’d kept himself from that more violent urge.
“Fine,” he said eventually. “I’ll get Tony.”
The storm began with a lashing fury as he walked Dana back to the car. Nick took her hand and they broke into a run, hurrying to the relative safety of a darkened doorway. Both of them were soaked through, and as they huddled side by side, Nick’s gaze fell on the way Dana’s dress clung to her breasts. The peaks had hardened in the chilly air and jutted against the damp fabric. Tension coiled inside him. Dana shivered again and before he had a chance to consider what he was doing, he drew her into his arms.
She went absolutely rigid in his embrace. “Nick.” His name came out as a choked entreaty.
“Shh. It’s okay,” he murmured, wondering how anything that felt so right to him could possibly scare her so. And he didn’t doubt that she was afraid. He felt it in her frozen stance, saw the startled nervousness that had leaped into her eyes at his touch. “I just want to keep you warm until we can make a break for the car.”
“I—I’ll b-b-be fine.”
“Your teeth are chattering.”
“N-n-no, they’re n-not,” she said, defiant to the end. She struggled against him.
“Dana.” This time his voice was thick with emotion and an unspoken plea.
Her gaze shot up and clashed with his. Then she held herself perfectly still, and he felt her slowly begin to relax in his arms.
