Nanny and the Professor (15 page)

"I'd never do anything to hurt you," he said. "I mean, if you've been hurt in the past and you're afraid that I'd..."

She let him know he was on the wrong track by closing her eyes and shaking her head firmly.

"Well, whatever your fear, we can work it out–"

"No, we can't," she said adamantly. "Just like there are rules for Andy, there have to be rules for us. I work for you. Intimacy between us would surely… complicate that."

"I don't want complications, either." His tone was grave. "I just want... I just..."

Cassie couldn't stand it, she had to ask. "You just want what?"

"I want to spend some time with you," he said. "No strings attached.
And with no expectations of any kind."
Then his fingers tightened on her wrist. "I've been invited to a cocktail party Saturday night. Go with me."

She couldn't seem to respond. She knew she should refuse him flat out. But part of her wanted this. A part of her wanted to be with him.
Badly.

Her inhalation was shaky, and confusion rocked her to her very foundation. Maybe, she thought
,
if she understood this spark or attraction or whatever it was that was drawing them together so strongly, then she could deal with it a little less emotionally.

"I need to ask you something." The words had escaped her in an impulsive moment.

"Okay." He released his grip on her and rested his elbow behind her on the back of the bench.

She could hardly believe she was about to ask him the question that had been nagging at her since
The Experiment
had occurred.

"The other evening out at the pool," she began, "you said that you had never wanted a woman the way you want me. I wondered how that could be when you were
married?
What about...
Elizabeth
? Didn't you want your wife? Didn't you… desire her the same way you… you know…" She let the rest of the sentence trail off, mortified by her audacity to ask him such a deeply personal question. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Don't be."

He was quiet for a long moment, a moment during which she thought she read several emotions pass across his dark eyes: sadness, regret, and a twinge of guilt. Knowing that she'd precipitated the recall of these obviously troubling feelings in him made her truly regret having raised the issue.

Finally he tilted his head to one side and smiled tenderly. "You're right, I did say that. And I meant it."

She didn't want to feel it and knew in fact that she shouldn't, but his words, his tone, the look in his gaze, filled her with a sense of pure toe-tingling joy.

"Let me tell you about my marriage to
Elizabeth
," he said.

"Oh, wait." she rushed to say, lifting her hand, palm out. "That wasn't what I was suggesting. I shouldn't have asked. It was rude of me, Joshua, and I apologize.
Really.
Your marriage, your relationship with your wife, none of that is
any
of my business."

"Cassie, it's okay. I want to tell you."

His candid tone melted her sudden flare of apprehension, and it was gone almost before she felt it.

Once more he gazed off over the yard and contemplated his thoughts for a few seconds before he spoke. Cassie took that time to surreptitiously survey him.

So late in the day, his jaw was shadowed by a new growth of stubble. It gave him a rugged look, and she wanted desperately to reach out and smooth her fingertips across his cheek.

Just then he reached up and rubbed his jaw, and her eyes became riveted to his hand. She was surprised by the tanned strength of it, especially when she knew, as a university
professor,
he must perform very little manual labor. His fingers were long and lean, and she remembered how wonderful it had felt as they'd touched her face.

"There was never a time–"

She nearly jumped at the sound of his voice, and realized just how engrossed she'd become in merely looking at him.

"–when I don't remember having
Elizabeth
be
a part of my life," he said. "You see, our parents were the best of friends." He inhaled, slowly, deeply. "Elizabeth and I grew up together. We learned to ride bikes
together,
we went to grade school together. Both of us were introverts.
Bookish.
Geeky, I guess some people would say.
Definitely outcasts."

He hesitated over the adjectives and the last word was accompanied by a frown. Cassie felt an overwhelming desire to smooth away the tiny creases between his thick-lashed eyes.

"We were such good friends, Liz and I," he said. "We continued on through college together. We graduated. Found jobs." One of his shoulders rose in a small shrug. "It seemed only logical at the time for us to get married. We had sex. Sure. People who are together do.
But there was never any real… passion between us.
Not that we thought much about that. You don't really miss what you never had. Our relationship was sensible.
Like I said… logical."

"Is everything you do logical?" she asked.

He chuckled suddenly. "If I think back over my life, it certainly seems that way."

She remembered the loving relationship her own parents had shared, and how her mother had pined so for her father after he'd died. Was it possible for a woman to love a man so much that she couldn't live without him? She knew from watching her mother die from grief that the answer to that question was yes.

Absorbed in her own painful memories now, she didn't see the meditative expression with which Joshua studied her.

"But this..." he muttered, breaking into her musings by gently touching her hair
. "
This
is anything but logical."

Cassie instantly realized that
the
this
he was referring to was the attraction that thrummed between them. She knew she should jump up and run into the house, run from the magnetic pull that urged her to lean against the palm of his hand that was so softly stroking the strands of her hair.

Heeding that silent voice of warning in her head, she did stand up. But she didn't run. Not only didn't she run
,
she found herself saying the most outrageous thing.

"Well, then, logic be damned," she blurted. "I'd love to go to the party with you."

Chapter Seven

Saturday morning dawned bright, clear, and warm. After a quick shower, Cassie dressed in a white sleeveless blouse, a short denim skirt, and white canvas sneakers. Her spirits were soaring as she trotted downstairs to the kitchen to fix breakfast.

Today was full of big plans. First Joshua was planning to take her and the boys to the mall, and then tonight...

Tonight Cassie would be spending the evening with Joshua. A real, live date, she thought, pulling from the refrigerator a carton of orange juice, one of milk, several large apples and a bunch of plump, juicy grapes. The very idea of a date with Joshua made her giddy with nerves.

But if the two of you become too involved
–

Cassie shut out the silent, ominous echo, just as she'd successfully shut it out for the past few days. She simply closed her eyes and remembered his words.
Whatever your fear, we can work it out
. She let his promise smother her doubts about going to the party with him.

As she arranged the fruit on a platter, she let the memory of his words take her, yet again, into the realm of fantasy– a sunny, cheerful world where Joshua never hesitated to kiss her: on the shoulder, the neck, the lips. A world where she could feel free to run her fingers through his hair or rub his back after he'd had a long, hard day in the laboratory.
A dreamy existence where she fixed breakfast, not for the professor, his son, and her brother, but for her family.

This was a fantasy that had been ruminating in her head ever since the night Joshua had asked her to go to the party. Something had happened to her that night. Some sort of wild abandon had taken over her rational senses, and her flight of fancy had just taken off.
Soared, really.
Her imagination had slowly but intricately built the idea, and with each passing day, it had become more involved, more detailed.

Oh, she realized it for what it was– pure and unadulterated illusion. But did it hurt to ask herself,
what if?
What if
she could keep her past from Joshua?
What if
he wanted her so much that he never thought to ask her silly questions about her background?

He wanted her, of that she was certain. And the idea alone thrilled her beyond measure. She made a trip to the dining room table with glasses and drinks and then went back into the kitchen, refusing to think about what tomorrow might bring. She didn't want to think beyond tonight. Tonight would be... wonderful.

"Good morning."

Cassie glanced toward the doorway and saw Joshua standing there.

"Hi," she said, noticing how his green knit shirt hugged his broad chest. His beige twill shorts showed off lean, muscular calves. He looked so different, so outdoorsy in these casual clothes.

He came across the kitchen, pulled a grape from the cluster and popped it into his mouth. She busied herself with slicing the bagels and lining them up on the broiling pan, but she didn't fail to notice the intense, vibrant energy that pulsated in the room now that he was there.

He leaned his hip against the counter and asked, "So, is the shopping trip still on this morning?"

"Oh, yes," she said. She opened the oven door and popped the bagels under the broiler. "The boys were so excited last
night,
they could hardly get to sleep."

"I'm sorry I was so late coming in last night," he said. "I had to finish up a few things in the lab so that I'd have this morning free. I'll have to go in for a couple of hours this afternoon, but this morning belongs to you, Andrew, and Eric."

For some reason, the fact that he'd mentioned her first made her go all warm and sentimental. She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything.

At that moment the boys bounded into the kitchen.

"Are we
goin
' now?"

"Is it time to go?"

The boys spoke at the same time.

"Whoa, there," Cassie said.
"Into the dining room for breakfast, first.
March!"

"
Awww
!" they both groaned.

"Now."
Joshua joined in Cassie's cause. "Eat first,
then
we shop."

Cassie guided Eric into the dining room and he slipped into his chair. He took a big gulp of the milk his sister poured for him.

"Am I really going to get a new mitt?" He whispered the question so that only Cassie could hear.

The excitement and anticipation twinkling in his eyes nearly made her cry. The milky mustache smeared above his upper lip nearly made her laugh.

Smiling warmly, she nodded her assurance and then handed him a napkin.

"I'll be right back," she told them. "I have to get the bagels."

She entered the kitchen just as Joshua was taking the pan from the oven.