again, Dana felt a familiar knot form in her stomach. “Nothing for me, thanks.” Her voice was tight.
“Not even iced tea or a soda?”
Illogical relief, exaggerated far beyond the offer’s significance, washed over her. “Iced tea would be great.”
They reached the refrigerator at the same instant and Dana was trapped between Nick and the door. The intimate, yet innocent press of his solid, very male body against hers set off a wild trembling. His heat and that alluring scent of soap and man surrounded her. The surge of her blood roared in her ears. She clenched her fists and fought to remain absolutely still, to not let the unwarranted panic show in her eyes. Nick allowed the contact to last no more than a few seconds, though it seemed an eternity. Then he stepped aside with an easy grin.
“Sorry,” he said.
Dana shrugged. “No problem.”
But there was a problem. Nick had seen it in Dana’s eyes, though she’d looked away to avoid his penetrating gaze. He’d felt the shiver that rippled through her, noted her startled gasp and the way she protectively lifted her arms before she dropped them back to her sides with conscious deliberation. He was experienced enough to know that this was not the reaction of a woman who desired a man but who was startled by the unexpectedness of the feeling. Dana had actually seemed afraid of him, just as she had on Saturday, when she’d been brandishing those hedge clippers. The possibility that he frightened her astonished and worried him. He was not used to being considered a threat, not to his employees, not to his son and certainly not to a woman.
He’d been raised to treat everyone with respect and dignity, but women were in a class by themselves. His mother, God rest her, had been a gentle soul with a core of iron and more love and compassion than any human being he’d ever met. She’d expected to be treated like a lady by both her husband and her sons and thought there was no reason other women shouldn’t deserve the same.
“Women aren’t playthings,” she’d told Nick sternly the first time she’d caught him kissing a girl down by the river. He’d been fourteen at the time and very much interested in experimentation. Nancy Ann had the reputation of being more than willing. He never knew for sure if his mother had heard the gossip about Nancy Ann, but she’d looked him straight in the eye at the dinner table that night and said, “I don’t care who they are or how experienced they claim to be, you show them the same respect you’d expect for yourself. Nobody deserves to be used.”
Though his brothers had grinned, he’d squirmed uncomfortably under her disapproving gaze. He’d never once forgotten that lesson, not even in the past three years since Ginny had died and more than a few women had indicated their willingness to share his bed and his life. Dana’s nervous response bothered him all the more, because he knew it was so thoroughly unjustified.
But she didn’t know that, he reminded himself. Experience had apparently taught her another lesson about men, a bitter, lasting lesson. He felt an unreasoning surge of anger against the person who had hurt her.
Dana was already poking around in the freezer as if the incident had never taken place. Since she’d apparently decided to let the matter rest, he figured he should, as well. For now. In time, his actions would teach her she had nothing to fear from him.
Delighted to have such attractive company for a change, he leaned back against the counter, crossed his legs at the ankles and watched her as she picked up packages, wrinkled her nose and tossed them back. Finally she emerged triumphant, her cheeks flushed from the chilly air in the freezer.
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but do you have any idea how long this chicken has been in there?”
Nick reached out, took the package and brushed at the frost. “Looks to me like it’s dated February something.”
“Of what year?”
“It’s frozen. Does it matter?”
“Probably not to the chicken, but it could make a difference in whether we survive this meal.”
“We can always go back to the frozen dinners. I bought most of them last week.” He paused thoughtfully. “Except for those Salisbury steak things. They’ve probably been there longer. Tony said if I ever made him eat another one he’d report me to his grandmother for feeding him sawdust.”
The comment earned a full-blown, dazzling smile and Nick felt as though he’d been granted an award. Whatever nervousness Dana had been feeling seemed to be disappearing now that she had familiar tasks to do. She moved around the kitchen efficiently, asking for pans and utensils as she needed them. In less than half an hour, there were delicious aromas wafting from the stove.
“What are you making?”
“Coq au vin. Now,” she said, “if you’ll point out the dishes and silverware, I’ll set the table.”
“No, you won’t. That’s Tony’s job. We’ll take our tour now and send him in.”
Nick anxiously watched the play of expressions on Dana’s face as he led her through the downstairs of the house. For a man who’d never given a hang what anyone thought, he desperately wanted her approval. The realization surprised him. He held his breath until she exclaimed over the gleaming wide-plank wooden floors, the antiques that he and Ginny had chosen with such care, the huge fireplace that was cold now but had warmed many a winter night. The beveled mirror in a huge oak cabinet caught the sparkle in Dana’s huge brown eyes as she ran her fingers lovingly over the intricate carving.
As they wandered, Missy, a haughty Siamese cat that belonged to no one but deigned to live with Nick, regarded them cautiously from her perch on the windowsill. Finally, she stood up and stretched lazily. To Nick’s astonishment, the cat then jumped down and rubbed her head on Dana’s ankle. Dana knelt down and scratched the cat under her chin, setting off a loud purring.
“That’s amazing,” Nick said. “Missy is not fond of people. She loved Ginny, but she barely tolerates me and Tony. Usually she ignores strangers.”
“Perhaps she’s just very selective,” Dana retorted with a lift of one brow. “A wise woman is always discriminating.”
“Is there a message in there for me?”
“Possibly.” There was a surprising twinkle in her eyes when she said it.
“You wouldn’t be trying to warn me away, would you?” he inquired lightly. “Because if you are, let me tell you something: I don’t give up easily on the things I value.”
Dana swallowed nervously, but it was the only hint she gave of her nervousness. She met his gaze steadily as she gracefully stood up after giving Missy a final pat.
Tension filled the air with an unending silence that strummed across Nick’s nerves. Flames curled inside and sent heat surging through him. Desire swept over him with a power that was virtually irresistible. For the first time in years he recalled the intensity of unfulfilled passion, the need that could drive all other thoughts from your mind. He gazed at Dana and felt that aching need. Dana, so determinedly prim and proper in her severely tailored brown skirt and plain beige silk blouse, was every inch a classy lady, but she stirred a restless, wild yearning inside him.
It was Dana who broke the nerve-racking silence.
“You can’t lose what you don’t have,”
