Foolish Notions (9 page)

Deliberately, she crossed her ankles to
remove her feet from the illumination as he stared at her. Now her
entire body was engulfed in darkness. He knew she had done it to feel
protected. The shadows shielded her from things she didn’t want
to encounter. Or at least gave her the illusion she was shielded.
When she stuffed her hands in her pockets, James’s gut tumbled
because it caused her jeans to ride even lower on her hips. “Answer
the question, Samantha. Do I make you nervous?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m not used to being
stared at like that.” The low whisper came from the darkness
and was barely audible over the music.

“Like what?” he said
gently. Even though it was dim, he could see the clear blue of her
eyes gradually smoldered to a dark gray. He had seen the change many
times before and knew instantly that her emotions were stirring and
beginning to take over. She wouldn’t like this and he knew
without a doubt she would fight them and push them as far away as
possible.

When she didn’t answer, James
spoke. “I used to stare at you all the time.” Hell,
almost every man stared at her the way he was staring at her, she
just never noticed. When they had been together it was almost
impossible not to see the way men would eyeball her. At times he
could even read their blatant, nauseating thoughts, which would
infuriate him to the point of confrontation. Of course, he never
confronted anyone in front of Samantha. Several momentous occasions
popped into his head, of times when he had gone back into a
restaurant or store to put a man in his place for the impolite
glances, but Samantha never knew about them.

There was a side of him that he didn’t
allow her to see often. It was a side of him that allowed him to
succeed in his business. It allowed him to cut raw deals, sometimes
unfair deals, without batting an eye. It was an impersonal side,
filled with arrogance and shrewdness. However, he’d gone to
great lengths to make sure that Samantha was never a part of that
world. Her soft voice drew him from his thoughts. His eyes lifted.

“That was then. Things are
different now.”

“They are different, but I’m
not some stranger.” His voice was deep. Samantha stared at him,
unmoving. He didn’t want to be put in some category with other
men. He wouldn’t be.

“I didn’t say you were.”
She raked her teeth over her bottom lip anxiously.

James had to dig deep to fight the urge
to move closer. It made him sick, but he was no better than a
stranger. He couldn’t just walk over and touch her. The truth
was he had no right to be looking at her the way he was right now. He
had no right to be thinking the thoughts he was thinking right now,
either. The realization was sudden and powerful. A year ago he would
have placed a kiss against her neck without a second thought. Now, he
had no right to behave that way. He had no right to feel so
possessive of her. “You know what’s strange?” His
eyes held hers in a heavy stare. “To have someone in front of
you that at one time had been entirely yours and now you have no
right to her. It’s an odd feeling, Samantha, that doesn’t
sit right in here.” He placed his hand over his heart. “It
makes no difference how much you loved her, or how long you held her,
or how deeply you cared for her. You no longer have a claim to her.”

She swallowed hard. “Things have
changed.”

James’s voice was curt and his
eyes were cold. “They shouldn’t have.” She had been
an angel sent to him to keep him grounded, focused, and human. She’d
been the balance that he needed to survive in the crazy world where
he did business. He smiled at the thought of how it used to be. How
would he ever find the strength to watch her leave again? He
shuddered.

“Move, so I can see you.”
He spoke the words softly. When she made no attempt to move, he
repositioned himself so he could see her better. Her eyes were wide,
her expression meek. The look she was giving him didn’t sit
well with him either. “I won’t pounce on you.”

“You look like you will.”

“But you know I won’t,”
he said with absolute control.

She sucked in a shaky breath and
nodded.

“I’m glad you agree.”
Moving slightly, he asked, “Tell me what you’re
thinking.”

“You’ve never looked at me
like this before.” She paused. “Not even when we were
together.”

“I can’t touch you—that’s
why I’m looking at you this way.” He angled his head.
“It’s a position I’ve never been in, and to be
honest with you, I don’t like it.” Her expression changed
as a flicker of reserve twisted her lips and filled her eyes. She was
looking at him like she didn’t trust him. “If I can’t
touch you—”

“Please, stop”

He moved to her and pulled her hand out
of her pocket.

“Then don’t look at me like
that.” He brushed her hair away from her face and ran the back
of his hand across her cheek. “You look at me like I’m
going to hurt you.” He lifted her chin. “You know I’ll
never hurt you.”

“I’m so confused.”

A smile slowly transformed his mouth.
“Is that what that look is?” He had to admit, she did
look a bit baffled. Raising her hand, he said, “Did I get it
all?”

“Yes, and a little skin too.”

“Good thing I’m not a
nurse.” He brushed his lips over the tender spot, lightly.

“It’s fine.”

He watched her briefly. “Are
you?”

“If you take a few steps back so
I can think and breathe, I will be.” She pulled her hand free
from his, taking a deep breath. “I’m tired.”

“Me, too.” His smile was
almost destructive. “You want to go to bed?” He was so
amused by the look in her eyes, he laughed out loud. “In
separate beds, Angel.” He leaned in and hovered just above her
ear. “At least, separate beds for now. Good night.”

* * * * *

In separate beds for now. What was the
man thinking, Samantha mused, as she got into the car and pulled out
of the driveway. How the hell was she supposed to sleep after a
comment like that? How was she supposed to lie under the same roof
after he’d looked at her like that? James was an arrogant
son-of-a-bitch, she decided, as she sped down Pacific Coast Highway.

She tapped her fingernail against the
steering wheel—spite mounting until she was trembling. “I
should have told him he was a son-of-a-bitch, too.” She looked
over her shoulder and changed to the fast lane. “Why I kept my
mouth shut is beyond me.” She should have set him straight then
and there. She should have—

When the odometer pushed past seventy
she lifted her foot and sighed at how ridiculous she was being. She
couldn’t have spoken up if she had tried. Her entire body, even
her voice, had seemed to grind to a halt the moment his gaze had
fallen on her. Confusion had swarmed through her head, tackling any
thoughts she might have had. Hell, she was happy that she had managed
to stay erect because what she’d really wanted to do was slide
down the wall and force herself to forget he was even in the room.

His smile had been seductive. His
arrogance had been persuasive. The biceps that flexed against his
crisp shirt had been devastatingly visible. Her fingers tightened
around the steering wheel as her insides exploded into a raging fire.
A sharp ache scattered through her entire body, starting from the pit
of her stomach and spreading outward in a sudden wave of intense
heat.

What had she been thinking when she
thought she could take care of Marie and just ignore James? Thinking
they could live peacefully together was a mistake—a huge error
on her part. How was she going to get out of this situation? She
couldn’t stay there. She couldn’t live under the same
roof with him. It would never work. It wasn’t working.

What she really needed was to talk to
her best friend, Marisa. They had been practically inseparable since
age seven. Marisa would put everything back into perspective for her.
She was often the more practical of the two and she was definitely
the take-charge one. Marisa would help her find her way out of this
mess. Glancing down at the dashboard she saw that it was almost nine
o’clock. Hopefully Marisa would still be up. Pulling off the
highway, Samantha steered the car into an upscale residential
neighborhood. She was thankful when she pulled up to the curb in
front of the house to see that there were lights on.

Instant relief filled Samantha when
Marisa appeared at the door. It was so good to have a best friend,
particularly at a time like this.

“You don’t look good.
What’s wrong?” Marisa said quickly as she pulled Samantha
into the house and put a protective arm around her. “What
happened? Is everything okay with Marie?”

“Yes, Marie is fine.”

Marisa’s hand went to her chest.
“You scared me for a minute.”

“I’m sorry.” Samantha
shook her head. “Everyone’s fine.” She blew out a
breath. “I know it’s late, but I really need someone to
talk to.”

Marisa closed the door and walked
Samantha to the living room. “You want me to fix some coffee or
tea?” she asked, moving toward the kitchen.

Samantha shook her head.

“You want a glass of wine?”

“No, nothing to drink.”

Marisa’s eyebrows shot up. “This
is serious.” She moved to the sofa and pulled Samantha down
next to her. “What’s going on?”

Samantha couldn’t stop the tears
that filled her eyes. “It’s harder that I thought it
would be.”

“Why? Tell me what’s hard.
Is it seeing Marie sick?”

She shook her head, wiping her eyes
with the back of her hand.

“I didn’t think so. It’s
James, isn’t it?”

“Being near him like this is so
difficult.”

Marisa pulled Samantha into a tight
embrace. “Oh, God, Samantha, I’m sorry.”

“It’s so hard to be there.”

“I know it is.”

“I don’t think I can do
this,” Samantha said as she closed her eyes and rested her chin
on Marisa’s shoulder.

“Of course you can do this.”

“No, it’s too hard.”

“It’s only the first day.
Give it more time.”

“Time isn’t going to make
any difference. I bit off way more than I can chew. I’ve made a
huge mistake.”

Pushing her at arm’s length,
Marisa grabbed Samantha’s shoulders and said softly, but
firmly, “You have to do this. For Marie.”

“I can find another nurse. With
the kind of money James is paying—”

“Marie needs you,” Marisa
gently reminded her. She leaned over, plucked two tissues out of a
box, and handed them to Samantha. “Not some other nurse. You
can’t lose focus on that. That’s why you’re there.”

“Focus,” Samantha repeated
with a hysterical laugh. “I can’t stay focused with James
so close.”

“You’re going to have to,
because Marie needs you.”

Samantha nodded and sniffled at the
same time. “You’re right. She does. That’s why I
agreed to this in the first place.” She lifted her shoulders.
“But this is killing me. I haven’t even been in the house
for two days and—”

“And what?”

“It’s still there.”
She buried her face in her hands. “I don’t want it to be,
but all the emotions and feelings are still there.”

She lifted her head. “God,
sometimes he looks at me like he’s going to eat me alive and
then other times he looks at me like I’m the one who betrayed
him.”

“He still cares for you,”
Marisa said logically.

“I don’t want him to care
for me.”

“You and I both know that
feelings can’t be turned on and off. It’s going to be
okay. It’s only temporary.”

“You’re right.”
Samantha wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

“You want me to get that wine
now?”

“No.” Samantha stood. “It’s
getting late and I need to go.”

Marisa walked Samantha to the door,
stopped, and pulled her close. “Call me in a day or so and let
me know how things are going.”

“I will.”

“It’s going to be okay,”
Marisa insisted. “Take care of Marie. That’s all you have
to do.”

“I know.” Samantha said as
she kissed Marisa on the cheek and smiled thankfully. “I love
you.”

At Marie’s insistence, Samantha
finally agreed to take the walk on the beach that she had desperately
wanted to take but kept putting off because she’d find
something else that needed her attention. The peaceful stroll would
be greatly appreciated, because tomorrow was going to be a busy day
and it might be the last time she had a free moment to herself.

Moving about her room, she unpacked the
rest of her belongings, which she had fetched earlier that afternoon
when Marie had been napping. Pausing, she thought about the woman
down the hall. She had left Marie comfortably settled in bed with a
crossword puzzle less than twenty minutes ago. Tomorrow night she
might not be as content. In less than twenty-four hours she would be
in the middle of her first treatment.

Samantha slid the dresser drawer shut
and moved across the room to the window. Pressing her palms against
the glass she stared spellbound at the endless ocean. She wondered
why this vast body of water enthralled her. She felt amazingly small
when she was near it. For some unexplainable reason, it reinforced
her belief that people truly do not have control over destiny. She
had no control over the outcome of Marie’s cancer or her own
feelings for James. She felt destiny was like the ocean—it was
sometimes merciless and almost always unpredictable.

A motion from below caused her gaze to
drop. She watched James from the second-story window as he sat
quietly on the beautiful deck. He must have changed from his work
clothes when she was getting Marie settled in for the evening. She
vaguely remembered hearing the car pull into the drive, but she
assumed that he went right into his office. She hadn’t seen him
since the night before when he had mocked her flowerpot and ripped
off a layer of skin.