Something Different/Pepper's Way (27 page)

She blinked again. “You’re feeling
very
complimentary” was all she was able to say.

“I’m also feeling unusually protective,” he said conversationally. “So I guess I’d better know how you feel about that. I mean, do you object to my feeling protective, or is that one of the qualities you’re looking for?”

“Would it matter?” she asked in sudden amusement, assuming that eventually he’d get around to the real point he wanted to make.

He considered her question. “I doubt it. I don’t seem to be able to control it. However, if you object—women’s lib or whatever—then I’ll see what I can do about it.
Do
you object?”

“Not really. As long as it isn’t taken to extremes. I mean, if you accept that I’m not helpless, we’ll get along fine.”

“I accept that.”

“Wonderful. And so?”

“What kind of heat does that RV have?”

The point? she wondered. “I have a kerosene heater. Why?”

Thor frowned. “I don’t like that.”

“They’re perfectly safe,” she offered, still amused.

“I suppose. But… there’s a cold front moving through tonight, and I won’t sleep a wink. Why don’t you move into the house?”

Ah. The point. Pepper bit back a giggle. “You take your time in getting around to the point, don’t you?”

“I’m serious,” he scolded, but there was a grin working at his mouth.

“What brought this on?” she asked dryly.

“It’s getting chilly outside, and I wondered. I could be callous and say that I don’t want my house burning down along with your RV, but that didn’t occur to me until just now. Actually it’s you and the mutts I’m worried about. Humor me. Move your things in here.”

“Thor—”

“God knows, there’s enough space. Pick any of the bedrooms—I won’t even exclude mine. I won’t even charge you rent. Just keep giving Mrs. Small those wonderful recipes and sing for me from time to time.”

“Thor—” she tried again, but he cut her off once more.

“The mutts too. If you feel obligated or something, we’ll work out a fair trade of services. I mean—uh, no, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’ll make you wash dishes or something. …”

Pepper was laughing.

“That object you see protruding from my mouth,” he told her ruefully, “is my foot. Be gentle with me; I’ve never asked a woman to live with me before.”

She choked off a last laugh. “You haven’t, huh? I never would have guessed. I think your ulterior motives are showing.”

“Bite your tongue. I’m trying to be gallant.”

“With the accent on the last syllable?”

“Right. Chivalrous,” he said.

“It also means flirtatious.”

“Just so, Diana.”

“Mmm.” Pepper stared at him. “Let’s fall back on honesty, shall we? Thor, do you know what you’re doing?”

“You think I’m being reckless?”

“Suicidally reckless. If you’re counting on the home-team advantage, I should warn you in all fairness that I never need a cheering section.”

Thor started to laugh. “You know, whenever we’re together, the metaphors fly so thick and fast that I can barely keep up. Cheering section? I thought this challenge was just between you and me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“It’s scary to admit it, but yes, I think I do.”

“Why scary?”

“You’re beginning to make sense to me; that’d scare any sane man.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome. And we’re digressing again. Will you move in?”

Abruptly serious, she asked slowly, “Do you really think that would be a good idea?”

He nodded, still smiling but clearly serious. “Yes. We’ve got—what?—a few weeks before you either catch me or fold up your RV and steal away. We should make the most of that time.”

Pepper felt a smile tugging at her lips. “You really do like the idea of being chased, don’t you?”

“I told you, it panders to my ego,” he returned solemnly, and then relented because of the suspicious look on her face. “Okay, okay. It may be unmacho to admit it, but yes, I’m getting a hell of a kick out of the whole thing. Although I haven’t seen any real evidence of chasing yet.”

“Haven’t you?” she murmured with another Mona Lisa smile.

He stared at her. “Am I being manipulated?” he demanded suddenly.

She gave him a “Who, me?” look of innocence.

“I think I am,” he told the ceiling in mock despair. “And I thought it was all my idea.”

“But it was,” she told him gently. “That’s the subtlety of it.”

“You’re dangerous.”

Pepper started laughing, unable to keep a straight face after his look of sham horror. “I’ve been told that before. But in this case I’ll confess that I hadn’t planned on moving into your house. That’s a bit too blatant even for my taste.”

“I’m glad you admitted that. Honesty I can deal with, but subtlety unnerves me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Do that. Are you moving in?”

“Thor—”

“Humor me.”

She stared into his smiling gray eyes. “If you’ll accept a promise from me,” she said seriously.

“What are you promising?”

“I’m promising not to complicate your life—more than you can stand anyway. And I’m promising that you won’t have to tell me to go. If you get tired of the game”—she smiled slightly—“or take to your heels in earnest, I’ll know. I want you to understand that you won’t have to ask me to leave.”

Gazing at her, Thor realized dimly that this was the first time either of them had admitted that the game would have an ending, and that it might not be a happy one. “Are you moving in?” he repeated steadily.

“Are you accepting the promise?”

“If I have to,” he said unwillingly.

“You do.”

“All right then.” Thor shook his head. “This is the strangest chase I’ve ever heard of. Why aren’t you attacking me and tearing my clothes off?” he demanded mournfully.

Approving of the brighter atmosphere, she said reprovingly, “That’s what happens when I catch you.”

“Then why the hell am I running?” he demanded in bewilderment.

They stared at each other for a moment, then both burst out laughing.

“Tuck away your gallant manners, will you?”

“I just offered to help.”

“Thor, I’m bringing over some clothes and that’s all. They won’t be heavy and I can manage nicely on my own, thank you very much.”

“You might trip in the dark.”

“Thor.”

“Why don’t you just admit that you don’t want me in your RV and be done with it?”

She was slipping, Pepper decided, if it was as obvious as all that. She turned and leaned back against the closed front door, staring up at Thor. He wanted honesty, she reminded herself. “All right then. I don’t want you in the van.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Sorry.”

“Afraid I’ll steal the silver?”

“None to steal.”

“Afraid I’ll find puzzle pieces?” he asked more seriously.

His perception caught her off guard, and for a moment she was silent. Without realizing that she was doing it, Pepper reached into a pocket of her jeans and brought out the ever-present worry-stone, her thumb moving rhythmically in the depression. “Every time we turn around,” she murmured, “we seem to be stumbling over honesty.”

Thor noticed her unconscious gesture, but didn’t comment on it. “That’s a good thing to stumble over,” he said instead.

She nodded slightly. “As long as one of us doesn’t fall.” Before he could respond, she was going on evenly. “Okay, then. I came into your home, Thor. And I looked for clues.”

“To me?”

“To you. I found a beautiful house. I didn’t find clues. I didn’t find you.”

“I see.” He gazed at her steadily. “But I’d find you in the van?” When she hesitated, he said flatly, “I won’t step inside the door without your permission, Pepper. I promise you that.”

She nodded again and said almost unwillingly, “You’d find me, I think. I’ve never looked at myself the way you do— pieces of a puzzle, I mean. But if that’s what I am, then all the pieces are there. That van is my… anchor. My lifeline. Something to come back to. Someplace to store memories. Home. I believe that everything I am is in that van.”

Thor took a deep breath and released it slowly. He reached out a hand, grasping hers and stilling the busy thumb. “I won’t go inside without your invitation,” he told her, rewording his earlier promise.

Pepper looked up at him, the honestly in her violet eyes neither a weapon nor a plea, but a simple frankness, a calm integrity that brushed aside games and left only truth. “If I ask
you, it’ll be because I want you to see me. With no veils, no shields, nothing hidden. I’ll want you to see everything that I am. Do you understand what that will mean?”

His hand tightened around hers. He bent suddenly and kissed her briefly, a kiss that was curiously rough, almost a protest against what couldn’t be denied. “Yes. I know what it will mean.” His gray eyes were almost violently stormy, his voice taut.

She pulled her hand from his slowly, still unaware of the worry-stone as she slipped it into her pocket automatically. “Shall I get my things?” she asked him quietly.

“Get your things.” As she turned to open the door he added, “Pepper… no matter what happens between us, I want you to remember something. You have valid reasons for your rules. I have valid reasons for mine.”

She paused to look back at him, alarmed by the raw sound of his voice. What had they begun? What had they unleashed that had the power to disturb them both this way? Whatever it was, the intensity of it frightened her. “I almost wish… I hadn’t challenged you,” she told him, and she had never been more honest.

His smile was tight. “I almost wish I hadn’t accepted your challenge. But I think we both know there’s no going back now.”

“Yes. That’s what frightens me.” She went out, closing the door softly behind her.

“It frightens me too,” he murmured, staring at the door’s carved panel as if it offered answers. “Dammit to hell, Pepper, why can’t I tell you to leave?”

Coming back up the walk a few minutes later, Pepper glanced in the den window, where the drapes had yet to be drawn. She saw Thor sitting in a chair before a newly kindled fire, with Fifi sitting at his feet. The Doberman’s long,
aristocratic face was turned toward him, her chin on his knee as he pulled absently and rhythmically at her small pointed ears.

Pepper smiled at the dog’s acceptance of Thor, but then she got a look at his brooding face, and her smile died. She stood for a moment, looking in and ignoring the breeze that had turned to a chill wind.

Whatever was building between her and Thor, it was happening too fast. They barely knew each other. It had to slow down, she thought desperately. If the headlong rush continued, it would stop only with a painful impact, injuring one or both of them beyond time’s ability to heal.

It had not been a part of her plans, she thought dimly, this wrenching of the senses and the heart. She had thought love a warm and gentle emotion, not something that left senses bewildered and unfulfilled bodies aching long into the night. Not something that hurt and frightened. For the first time in her life she wanted to run away.

But she couldn’t.

Pepper squared her shoulders and continued up the walk to the front door. Light, she reminded herself. Keep it light. No more soul-searching. Whatever is happening you obviously can’t control. So don’t look back, and don’t look ahead. Light your candles one at a time, and just keep going, dammit.

It was good advice.

She only hoped she could follow it.

Carrying an armful of clothes and with a heavy duffel bag slung over her shoulder, she closed the front door behind her with a thud, not surprised to see that Thor was already in the entranceway

“Here, let me,” he said, reaching out to slip the bag off her shoulder.

Pepper let it go with relief. “Thanks. It’s heavier than I
thought.” She nodded at Fifi, who was standing at heel by his side. “I see you’ve made a conquest.”

Thor looked down in surprise, having obviously been unaware of Fifi’s presence. “So I have.”

“I hope you’re prepared for her to dog your steps—no pun intended.”

He winced. “I’m glad that was unintentional; it’s a lousy pun.”

“So what do you expect at nine o’clock at night after a delicious meal of lasagna and three glasses of wine?” she asked practically, beginning to climb the stairs and relieved that he’d followed her light lead.

“Better puns. You did say you wanted the waterbed, didn’t you?”

Pepper turned in the appropriate door and flipped the light switch. “Can’t you tell?” she asked casually, dumping the armful of clothes down on the bright orange comforter.

Thor halted in the doorway, staring at Brutus. The little dog was lying calmly in the center of the bed, front legs crossed and big eyes blinking sleepily in the light. “How did he know?” Thor asked blankly.

“Experience.” Pepper laughed. “When I visit friends here in the States, he usually goes with me. And if there’s a waterbed, that’s where I sleep.”

Shaking his head, Thor set the duffel bag on a chair by the door. “Don’t tell me Fifi will expect to sleep with me?” he asked uneasily.

“Not unless you invite her to,” Pepper answered solemnly. “She’s a lady.”

“Cute.”

“I’m serious. She won’t come up on the bed unless you call her. Not while you’re awake anyway.”

“Great.” Thor sighed, looking down at the large dog sitting patiently at his side. Then he looked back at Pepper, his eyes restless. “Do you play chess?” he asked abruptly.

“Yes,” she replied, surprised.

“Then how about a game? If you’re not too tired, that is.”

All of Pepper’s instincts told her to turn in early and let the night and sleep take the edge off tension, although she didn’t think they would. But there was a faint, almost unwilling plea in Thor’s eyes, and she couldn’t ignore it. “Sure. I’d like to take a shower first though.”

He looked relieved. “Same here. But I have to go turn Lucifer out of his stall first; he hates being shut up all night. So I’ll meet you downstairs in about an hour?”

“Fine.”

She watched him wave with apparent cheerfulness and head back downstairs, Fifi at his heels. Absently hoping he’d remember to leave the dog inside, she scarched through the jumble of clothing on the bed until she’d found her robe, then went into the bathroom adjoining her new bedroom.