Country Brides - Debbie Macomber [50]
“You’re imagining things,” she said, nearly leaping to her feet in an effort to sidestep the issues he was raising. She grabbed her purse and a light sweater, eager to escape the apartment, which suddenly felt too small. “Are you going to take me to that movie, or are you going to sit here and ask questions I have no intention of answering?”
Dan stood, smiling faintly. “I don’t know what happened while you were on vacation, and it’s not important that I know, but whatever it was hurt you badly.”
Rorie tried to deny it, but couldn’t force the lie past her tongue. She swallowed and turned her head away, eyes burning.
“You won’t be able to keep pretending forever. Put whatever it is behind you. If you want to talk about it, I’ve got a sympathetic ear and a sturdy shoulder. I’m your friend, Rorie.”
“Dan, please…”
“I know you’re not in love with me,” he said quietly. “I suspect you met someone else while you were away, but that doesn’t matter to me. Whatever happened during those two weeks is over.”
“Dan…”
He took her hand, pulling her back onto the sofa, then sitting down beside her. She couldn’t look at him.
“Given time, you’ll learn to love me,” he cajoled, holding her hand, his voice filled with kindness. “We ’re already good friends, and that’s a lot more than some people have when they marry.” He raised her fingers to his mouth and kissed them lightly. “I ’m not looking for passion. I had that with my first wife. I learned the hard way that desire is a poor foundation for a solid marriage.”
“We’ve talked about this before,” Rorie protested. “I can’t marry you, Dan, not when I feel the way I do about…someone else.” Her mouth trembled with the effort to suppress tears. Dan was right. As much as she hadn’t wanted to face the truth, she’d been heartbroken from the moment she’d left Nightingale.
She’d tried to forget Clay, believing that was the best thing for them both, yet she cherished the memories, knowing those few brief days were all she’d ever have of this man she loved.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” Dan assured her.
“There isn’t anything to decide,” she persisted.
His fingers continued to caress hers, and when he spoke his voice was thick. “At least you’ve admitted there is someone else.”
“Was,” she corrected.
“I take it there isn’t any chance the two of you—”
“None,” she blurted, unwilling to discuss anything that had to do with Clay.
“I know it’s painful for you right now, but all I ask is that you seriously consider my proposal. My only wish is to take care of you and make you smile again. Help you forget.”
His mouth sought hers, and though his kiss wasn’t unpleasant, it generated no more excitement than before, no rush of adrenaline, no urgency. She hadn’t minded Dan’s kisses in the past, but until she met Clay she hadn’t known the warmth and magic a man’s touch could create.
Dan must have read her thoughts, because he said in a soothing voice, “The passion will come in time—you shouldn’t even look for it now, but it’ll be there. Maybe not this month or the next, but you’ll feel it eventually, I promise.”
Rorie brushed the hair from her face, confused and uncertain. Clay was marrying Kate in just a few weeks. Her own life stretched before her, lonely and barren—surely she deserved some happiness, too. Beyond a doubt, Rorie knew Clay would want her to build a good life for herself. But if she married Dan, it would be an act of selfishness, and she feared she’d end up hurting him.
“Think about it,” Dan urged. “That ’s all I ask.”
“Dan…”
“Just consider it. I know the score and I’m willing to take the risk, so you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big boy.” He rubbed his thumb against the inside of her wrist. “Now, promise me you’ll think honestly about us getting married.”
Rorie nodded, although she already knew what her answer would have to be.
Dan heaved a sigh. “Now, are you really interested in that horse show, or are we going to a movie?”
“The movie.” There was no use tormenting herself with thoughts of Clay. He belonged to Kate in the same way that he belonged