Moonlight Over Manhattan(65)

He probably could have managed, but he didn’t tell her that. Instead he put his arm round her shoulders and leaned on her. She smelled of strawberry and sunshine. Unable to help himself he leaned in a little closer, his attention caught by the golden sheen of her hair.

She turned her head to look at him and the movement caused her hair to brush against his cheek and suddenly he found it hard to breathe.

Her eyes held his in wordless communication.

Sexual awareness rippled through him, the sudden tension in the atmosphere closing in like a force field. The room, the outside world, faded into the background. There was only her.

He knew he should pull back. He knew this was dangerous, but he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to break the connection.

He had to remind himself of all the things she’d said to him in the dark of the night. About how she’d wanted a relationship and Eric hadn’t.

Harriet deserved the best, and he knew for sure he wasn’t the best.

“What are you doing?” Her face was so close to his that all he could see was the blue of her eyes.

“I’m leaning on you. You offered.” And her mouth was right there. Right there.

But her mouth wasn’t on offer. None of her was. Not to him.

“Are you sure you’re not capable of walking by yourself?”

“Definitely not.” He staggered a bit to prove his point, knowing that he was taking advantage of her good nature.

By the time they reached the bathroom he felt as if he needed to lie down for a month. That, he thought, was his punishment for pretending to be weaker than he was. Now he really did feel as weak as he’d pretended to feel.

He braced his arm against the door frame, frustrated by the lethargy that threatened to floor him. “I’m not sure I can make it downstairs to eat.”

“No worries. I’ll bring it up on a tray.” She touched his face with her palm, her eyes warm with sympathy. “Do you feel horrid?”

“Yes.” And that was probably a good thing, he thought, or he might have done something he would definitely have regretted later.

The moment she sensed weakness, she lowered the barriers.

It was the only good thing about being ill.

He took a shower and when he walked back into the bedroom she was standing there holding a tray.

“Chair or bed?”

Unable to help himself, he gave her a wicked smile. “Which would you prefer?”

She gave him a look that made him wonder if she’d ever taught kindergarten. “I can walk out anytime and take my soup with me.”

“Bed.” He slid back under the covers and she placed the tray on his legs, the weight of it pressing down through the covers. “Stay and talk. I promise to behave.”

“I have to do my accounts.”

“If you’re prioritizing accounts over me then I’m truly put in my place.”

“I don’t want to do them, but I have to. Honestly, I hate it. I’m not good at it. Fliss is.”

He picked up the spoon. “Then why not let her do it?”

“Because she can do it easily and I can’t.” She said it as if it was obvious.

“Why do something you’re not good at, if it’s a strength of your sister’s?”

“Challenge Harriet.”

“There’s a difference between doing something that scares you, and something that doesn’t play to your skills.” He took a mouthful of soup and closed his eyes. “This is incredible.”

“I’ll pass your compliments to my grandmother.”

“Tell me about her.”

“She has a beautiful beach house in the Hamptons.” She sat down on the chair, but on the edge as if she hadn’t quite decided whether to stay or not. “We used to spend the summer with her. It was my favorite time.”

“Because you love the beach?”

“Because my father wasn’t there.”

He thought about the summers he’d spent with his father, and how much he’d taken the stability of their family life for granted.

“Your childhood was difficult. It’s not surprising you want a peaceful family life now.”

“I’d rather be on my own than with the wrong person. Or someone who doesn’t love you. That’s worse, I think. That’s the situation my parents were in.” A strand of hair slid forward and curved round her cheek. “I wish I’d known a bit more about their situation when I was growing up. It might have helped me understand.”

“You think that excuses your father’s behavior?”

“No. But I think it helps explain it. I used to think it was about me. But now I see it was about him.”

Judging from her unhappy expression, that revelation hadn’t brought her a whole lot of comfort.

“Tell me about summers with your grandmother.”

“It was easy being with her. Grams never minded if my words stuck in my mouth, if I wasn’t fluent. She waited until I’d said whatever it was I wanted to say. With her I felt normal. And summers there were the way I’d always imagined a family should be. Lots of laughter, friendly arguing, no tension. When I was with her, I didn’t feel like the disappointment of the family.”

“That’s how you felt?”

“It was hard not to. Daniel and Fliss were both brilliant at everything. They always had top marks. Fliss used to scribble her assignments on the school bus and she’d get an A every time. I’d work for hours, with help, and still only get a B. I’ve always had to try harder than everyone else.”