Anything for Her(31)

“Dancing?” Her eyes widened with something surprising. Fear? No, it couldn’t possibly be. “All I’m doing is putting away groceries.”

“You must know that you move differently than most of us clods.” He was careful not to move. His posture stayed relaxed. “Have you ever had dance lessons?”

“Oh...yes.” She sounded breathless. “When I was little. Don’t all little girls imagine themselves as ballerinas?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Didn’t your sister?” Allie went on tiptoe and put away the olive oil in a cupboard above the stove. Her body formed an exquisite line. He could sculpt her.... But creative visions were shoved off-line by the sight of her creamy skin when the T-shirt rode up. His fingers tingled, craving the silky, warm sensation of enclosing her waist in his hands.

She gazed at him expectantly. He had to rewind to remember what she’d asked. His sister.

“Uh...no. Anna liked to play in the mud.” He knew his face relaxed. “She finger painted—made the most god-awful messes. Anything artsy.”

“Play-Doh?”

“Oh, yeah. She did have a horse-crazy phase. Not destined to go much of anywhere when you live in Chicago, but she collected these horse statues, drew horses, ran around the backyard neighing.”

“A lot of girls go through that phase, too,” Allie said with a laugh.

“Did you?”

“I was the exception. By that time I was way too focused on...” She came to a stop, and there was the expression he didn’t understand again. “Oh, other stuff. Not that I wasn’t thrilled when one of those horse-crazy girls invited me to her birthday party. We were all taken on a trail ride. The horses were fat and never bestirred themselves from a plod, but still. I’m sure we all imagined ourselves leaping fences in the Grand National.”

She was too focused on...what? She didn’t want to talk about whatever it was, that was obvious. Family problems? Maybe, he thought, but wasn’t convinced.

“Where did you grow up?” he asked casually. “I don’t think you’ve ever said.”

She became busy stowing canned goods in a lower cupboard, giving him a nice view of her from behind, which he properly appreciated despite his agenda.

“That’s because we moved a lot,” she said. “Which is maybe why, when I reached adulthood, I was determined to put down roots.”

“Where’d you stay the longest?”

He couldn’t see her face. She was reaching into another grocery bag. “Oh...Florida, I suppose. Near Tampa. Actually a little south. I wish I could tell you I learned to surf, but I was too young.”

“Did you tan?”

“Did I what?” She looked startled.

“Your skin is so white. I wondered if you can tan.”

“Actually...no.” Allie wrinkled her nose. “I burn. It’s really annoying, given that I’m dark-haired and not a redhead or blonde.”

“You must have gotten the coloring from one of your parents. Your mom?”

“No, she is a blonde, and tans just fine, thank you.” Her voice had eased, Nolan was interested to note. She didn’t mind talking about her mother.

“Your father?”

“Oh—brown-haired, sort of hazel eyes. I guess I get that from him.” She gave a one-sided shrug. “His mother was Eastern European. Romanian, I think. I guess that’s where my coloring came from.”

Without conscious effort, an image of Nadia Comaneci, the famous Romanian gymnast, rose before his mind’s eye. During the last Olympic Games, the network had featured her, showed some snippets of her gold-medal-winning performances. Logical that mention of Romania had triggered her picture. He’d been captivated by huge, haunting dark eyes. Allie, he realized, had that same quality, shyness maybe, or something else. And then there was the grace. Arrested, he wondered: Could she have been a gymnast? But why wouldn’t she say, if so?

“You’re beautiful.” He had to clear his throat. Yeah, way to blurt it out. “I don’t know if I’ve said that, but you are.”

“I... Thank you.” In the first awkward movement he’d seen, she balled grocery bags in her hands and shoved them in a drawer. When she straightened, her eyes met his. “What did you come by to say?”

He had to think about it. “I’m not sure I came by to really say anything,” he finally confessed. “I wanted to see you. Make sure you weren’t too mad at me.”