Valentine's Day. Nicola Marsh

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СКАЧАТЬ up a bit, and yet she couldn’t really argue with him when she was going to deny the need to love in her own right.

      “I won’t marry again at all,” she said instead. “I don’t need a man in my life.”

      He stared at her for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed out loud. “You’re priceless, Cari,” he said. “But this is the way it is. I’ve been dating women for over fifteen years now. I’ve yet to find one I desperately want to spend the rest of my life with. Evidence suggests she’s not going to come breaking out of the woodwork anytime soon. So why not use a marriage to get what I want?”

      She snorted. His cynicism appalled her. “The question is, why do you want it?”

      “To save my mother’s life.”

      That shut her up. She couldn’t help but feel it was a bit melodramatic. She supposed that was the Italian in him. But it left her speechless nonetheless. After all, what would she be willing to do for the people she loved best?

      “Not that,” she whispered to herself as he turned and left the room.

      She watched him go, then followed him out into the living room, ready to ask him more about this, but he sandbagged her with a question of his own.

      “So what did you think of your blind date?” he asked, sinking into the sleek yet comfortable couch.

      “Who? Randy?” She flopped down into a chair across from where he was sitting. Her chin rose. “Obviously, he’s perfect for me,” she said with only a tiny touch of sarcasm.

      He caught her nuance. “Is he?” Amusement danced in his dark eyes.

      “Of course.” She shrugged. “Hand picked, in fact, by my best friend, Mara. And she was right. Can’t you tell?”

      He allowed himself a halfhearted grin. “Oh, yeah. Nice guy. Funny guy. I enjoyed him.”

      “Me, too.” She punched a pillow. “He’s exactly the sort of man I need.”

      “Ya think?”

      “Yes.” She faced him frankly. “He’s very calm and very…” She drew in a long, deep breath. “Very ordinary.”

      “Ordinary.” He frowned thoughtfully, then raised an eyebrow. He’d never thought of that quality as an attribute. “Is that a plus?”

      She nodded. “I’m ordinary. What’s wrong with ordinary?”

      He gave her a look. Maybe the word didn’t mean just what he thought it did. “Did I say anything was wrong with ordinary?”

      “Ordinary can be okay,” she said a bit defensively. “I come from ordinary people. My father was an accountant, my mother worked in a bank.”

      “Do they live in Dallas?”

      She shook her head. “No. My mother died of cancer and my father died of a broken heart.”

      “Ah.” He nodded. He understood that sort of thing.

      “It’s true you don’t get the thrilling highs with ordinary,” she went on. “But you don’t get the bone-rattling lows, either.” She winced, thinking of Brian. “Excitement can be scary when it goes bad,” she added softly.

      He noted the haunted look in her eyes as she spoke. There had been some scary excitement in her life, something that had gone badly. Of course, there were the deaths of her husband and child she’d told him about. Tragedies like that could have life-crippling effects on a person. But he had a feeling this was something more deeply rooted in the past, and maybe more specific to one person—for instance, her husband. What else could have made her so wary of a relationship?

      It only made sense. When you lost a significant other who made you happy, you tended to be in a hurry to replicate that happiness as soon as the grieving period began to die down a bit. People with good relationships believed in good relationships. She was scared to connect. Something had gone wrong somewhere along the line.

      He wanted to ask her about that, find out what was troubling her, but he held back. He didn’t want to scare her off, and he knew she didn’t want to talk about personal things. She had to be coaxed, cajoled and brought along casually. He would take his time.

      “So what about me?” he said instead. “Would you call me an ordinary guy?”

      “Hardly.” Her sudden smile was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, fascinating him. “You’re the sort mothers warn their daughters to stay away from, don’t you think?”

      “Me?” He was genuinely startled that she felt that way. Truth to tell, he didn’t consider himself exactly ordinary, but he didn’t relish the bad-boy role either. “So what’s scary about me?”

      “Nothing, I guess.” She was still smiling that radiant smile. “You haven’t scared me yet.”

      He noted the “yet.”

      “But you are a little larger than life,” she added, just to be clear.

      He frowned, not sure he was going to like this. “In what way?”

      “Let’s just put it this way—you’re a little too exciting. Too good-looking. Too powerful. Too adventurous. Shall I go on?”

      “No. That’s plenty.” His frown deepened. “And not really fair.”

      “Fair has nothing to do with it,” she told him firmly. “Do you think it’s fair that I’m definitely ordinary? I can’t help it. I was born this way. And naturally, if I’m going to have a relationship again, I need an ordinary man.”

      There it was, the point this whole conversation seemed to be leading up to. She was giving him a message.

      “Like Randy,” he said softly.

      She nodded, her eyes huge in the gloomy light. “Yes.”

      He gave her an incredulous look. Randy was all well and good, but he wasn’t right for Cari. She needed someone…well, someone more like Max himself. Someone with a little style and energy.

      “You need excitement,” he stated firmly.

      She shook her head, challenging him with her bright gaze. “No. I need security.”

      He stared at her, mulling that over. What did she think she was, ready for retirement?

      “Bull,” he said at last. Rising from the couch, he erased the distance between them, reached out and took her hand and pulled her up to face him.

      “What in hell makes you think you’re ordinary?” he demanded, face-to-face. “You’re careful. You’re responsible. You’re a good person. If you think that makes you ordinary, you have a higher definition of the term than I do.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I think that makes you pretty special.”

      She was tingling. He made her tingle more and more lately. Was that a good thing? Probably not.

      What if he was right? СКАЧАТЬ