Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [64]
She bristled at his accusatory tone. "You're the one who pushed me into a kiss. This wasn't my idea. You started it."
"You weren't fighting it. You were kissing me back."
"You took me by surprise."
"Yeah, well, the surprise ended more than a few minutes ago."
She stared at him, then sighed. "You're right. I kissed you back. I couldn't stop myself. I'm a terrible person."
"Why don't you break up with this guy, Julia?"
"Because it's complicated. Michael stood by me through the worst months of my life. He held my hand while I watched my mother die. He comforted me. He did whatever I asked. He was a rock."
"So you say, 'Thank you.' You don't say, 'I do.'' "My mother loved him. She was so happy the day we got engaged. She told me Michael was everything she'd always wanted for me. It was the first time she seemed proud of me. She didn't encourage my love of music. In fact, she discouraged it. She thought the radio station job was silly. She wanted me to get married, have kids, build a family of my own."
"So you said yes because of your mother?" he asked in amazement. "I still haven't heard a good reason. Do you love the guy at all?"
"Of course I love him. I just said that, didn't I?"
"Actually, you didn't. You said you owed him and it made your mother happy."
"I do love him. Michael is wonderful. He's probably too good for me."
He stared at her for a long minute. "So what's this about? You have a fling with the bad guy, then you marry the good guy, and everything works out great for you? What happens when you get tired of the good guy-are you going to have an affair?"
"I would never do that," she said, jumping to her feet in anger. "What kind of woman do you think I am?"
"I don't know. More importantly, I don't think you know. You are probably the most confused person I have ever met."
"You're the one who confused me because you took my damn picture twenty-five years ago." It felt good to yell at him, to let off some steam.
"And I am sorrier than I can ever say."
She sighed as he began to pace around the room. "What are we doing, Alex? We're both exhausted. We're not thinking rationally. We should call it a night and get some sleep."
"I'm not going to sleep. I'm too wired, even more now than I was before," he said. "You have a way of doing that to me, Julia."
She knew the feeling. She felt edgy and her stomach was churning. "Let's turn on the radio."
"Why?"
"Because there's probably some good music on. It always helps me relax." She knew she was probably about to make another mistake, but it seemed to be a night for mistakes. "I don't really want to be alone. Would you stay? Just hang out with me, no touching, no kissing."
His hesitation was obvious.
"It's a big bed." She sat down on one side of the bed and placed two pillows in the middle, building a little barrier. "I'll stay on my side. You stay on yours."
"You trust me to do that?"
She didn't even hesitate. "Yes."
He debated for another second. "Fine. I'll stay."
"Good." She turned on the radio, running through the stations until she heard a violin and viola playing Mozart's Duo in B-flat Major. "Isn't this beautiful?" she asked, leaning back against the bed. Already she was feeling better.
Alex stretched out on his side, resting his head on his elbow. He listened for a moment, then said, "It's nice."
"Nice? That's a lukewarm word. There's a perfect harmony between the two instruments, a pure, splendid tone. It's so powerful I can feel the music within me."
"It's nice," he said again with a small smile. "I prefer a saxophone or a trumpet, something announcing its entrance into the piece."
"I could find something else."
"No, this is fine. You like it. That's good enough for me."
She stared up at the ceiling, letting the music take the tension out of her shoulders, her neck, her entire body. She tried not to think about everything that had happened that day. There was too much to absorb, too many revelations to analyze.