Out of Hours...Boardroom Seductions. Janette Kenny

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СКАЧАТЬ could help,” he said to Natalie once.

      So she did. Some other children came by and wanted to help, too. Christo welcomed them all. He was like the Pied Piper to all of them. Jamii wasn’t the only one who would have followed him anywhere by the time they had finished.

      Even Natalie went down to the water with him to wash off the sand, then came back and dropped down on the towel. “Don’t you want to rinse off?” she asked her niece.

      Jamii just shook her head no.

      “Suit yourself,” Natalie said, resigned to getting Jamii to take a shower when they got back to the apartment. She tried to focus once more on her book when a shadow fell across her lap.

      Christo, still sand-covered, had come back and stood frowning down at them. He flicked Natalie a puzzled look, then turned his attention to Jamii.

      “What’s up?”

      “Nothin’.” She didn’t look at him, then, just started to dig again.

      Once more Natalie thought he’d leave. Instead he dropped down to sit beside the little girl. “Why aren’t you coming?”

      Jamii shrugged. “Don’t want to.” She turned her face away.

      Christo frowned, then looked to Natalie for the answer. “What’s going on?” he asked her.

      Natalie hesitated, then decided that Jamii’s fear wasn’t likely to go away until someone actually acknowledged it. So she told him what Dan had told her last night.

      “Jamii went out in a boat with some friends. No one checked that her life preserver was on right. They hit some rough water and she tumbled out of the boat. The preserver came off and she nearly drowned.”

      “I did not!” Jamii protested, mortified.

      But Christo’s jaw tightened. “You could have,” he said fiercely. But then the look on his face gentled. “That’s rough.”

      “I like it okay,” Jamii protested stubbornly. “I just don’t wanta go in right now.”

      “I don’t blame you.”

      He sat for a few more minutes in silence, his knees pulled up, his arms wrapped around them, as he sat and stared out at the water. The silence in him, the containment that accepted and absorbed the feelings of the other person reminded Natalie of how he’d been with the children in his office.

      He’d had infinite patience with them. Now he showed the same patience to Jamii.

      Natalie watched him warily, wondering what he would do.

      He didn’t talk now. Not for a long time. He never looked at Jamii either. Or at her, for that matter. Then, quietly, he began to speak.

      “When I was your age,” he said quietly, “I spent summers in Brazil at my grandmother’s. It was winter there, but it was still warm, and some of my friends and I built a tree house. It was way up high and it swayed in the wind, and we thought it was the coolest place in the world. We rigged a pulley between two trees and did the Tarzan thing swooping between them.” His mouth tipped at the corner and, from his expression, Natalie could see that he was remembering the time with fondness.

      She thought Jamii, her attention caught now, her gaze fastened on him, could see that, too.

      “It was great. I loved it,” Christo went on. “But once when I was climbing up with some supplies, my hand slipped.”

      Jamii sucked in a sharp breath. “What happened?”

      “I fell.”

      “A long way?”

      He nodded. “Pretty far.”

      “Were you…okay?”

      “I broke my arm,” Christo said matter-of-factly. “Cracked a couple of ribs.” He shrugged lightly. “Nothing too terrible. They all healed in a couple of months. But I couldn’t go up in the tree again while I was healing. And then, when I had healed, I wouldn’t go.” He picked up a handful of sand and let it drizzle slowly out through his fingers. “I thought I’d fall.”

      “But if you hung on—” Jamii protested.

      “I know. But I didn’t think about that. I just kept remembering the falling. And I wouldn’t go up again, even though my friends did and I could see all the fun they were still having. They tried to get me to come up, but I said I wasn’t interested anymore.”

      Jamii’s gaze narrowed, but she didn’t say anything.

      “I wasn’t about to tell them I was scared.” His voice was low enough that Natalie had to strain to hear. She shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but she couldn’t help it. Her fingers tightened on her book and she kept her gaze on the words, but she wasn’t seeing them. She was totally focused on Christo.

      So was Jamii, raptly. She chewed her lip. “And you never went up there again?”

      “I wouldn’t have,” he admitted. “But one day when my friends weren’t there my grandmother said, ‘I’d like to see that tree house of yours.’ I told her no. I said, ‘It’s not that great.’ I said, ‘It’s too high up for you to get to.’ And she said, ‘It’s pretty high, but I want to see it. I think I can do it if you’ll go with me.’”

      Jamii’s mouth was open. She stared at him. “Did you?”

      “No. But then she went over to it and started up the ladder by herself. So—” he took a breath “—I went after her. I had to make sure she didn’t get hurt.” His mouth twisted in a small self-deprecating grin. “And I discovered I could do it again after all.”

      “Which is what she wanted you to discover,” Jamii, no fool, finished for him.

      Christo nodded. He sat back on the sand, bracing his body with his hands. “Yep. And she was right. I could. Just like you can go in the water again.” He looked at her now. “You know that, right?”

      In the silence between them, Natalie heard a wave break, then another. Slowly, lips pursed, Jamii nodded. She hunched over her own upraised knees and wrapped her arms around them, too.

      “Just like I knew it,” Christo agreed. “But sometimes it helps to have someone to go with who understands.”

      “Like your grandma,” Jamii said in a small voice.

      “Uh-huh. So—” he slanted her a glance “—if you wanted to try sticking a toe or two in, I’d go with you.”

      Natalie held her breath.

      Jamii squeezed her arms around her legs. She chewed her lip. She didn’t speak.

      Neither did Christo. He just sat there, staring out at the horizon, completely unhurried, as if he had nothing better to do than wait for an eight-year-old girl to make up her mind.

      “Could I ride on your shoulders?” Jamii asked him at last.

      Christo СКАЧАТЬ