A Country Affair(41)

She’d tried to forget Clay, believing that was the best thing for them both, yet she cherished the memories, knowing those few brief days were all she’d ever have of this man she loved.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Dan assured her.

“There isn’t anything to decide,” she persisted.

His fingers continued to caress hers, and when he spoke his voice was thick. “At least you’ve admitted there is someone else.”

“Was,” she corrected.

“I take it there isn’t any chance the two of you—”

“None,” she blurted, unwilling to discuss anything that had to do with Clay.

“I know it’s painful for you right now, but all I ask is that you seriously consider my proposal. My only wish is to take care of you and make you smile again. Help you forget.”

His mouth sought hers, and though his kiss wasn’t unpleasant, it generated no more excitement than before, no rush of adrenaline, no urgency. She hadn’t minded Dan’s kisses in the past, but until she met Clay she hadn’t known the warmth and magic a man’s touch could create.

Dan must have read her thoughts, because he said in a soothing voice, “The passion will come in time—you shouldn’t even look for it now, but it’ll be there. Maybe not this month or the next, but you’ll feel it eventually, I promise.”

Rorie brushed the hair from her face, confused and uncertain. Clay was marrying Kate in just a few weeks. Her own life stretched before her, lonely and barren—surely she deserved some happiness, too. Beyond a doubt, Rorie knew Clay would want her to build a good life for herself. But if she married Dan, it would be an act of selfishness, and she feared she’d end up hurting him.

“Think about it,” Dan urged. “That’s all I ask.”

“Dan...”

“Just consider it. I know the score and I’m willing to take the risk, so you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big boy.” He rubbed his thumb against the inside of her wrist. “Now, promise me you’ll think honestly about us getting married.”

Rorie nodded, although she already knew what her answer would have to be.

Dan heaved a sigh. “Now, are you really interested in that horse show, or are we going to a movie?”

“The movie.” There was no use tormenting herself with thoughts of Clay. He belonged to Kate in the same way that he belonged to the country. Rorie had no claim to either.

The film Dan chose was surprisingly good, a comedy, which was just what Rorie needed to lift her spirits. Afterward, they dined at an Italian restaurant and drank wine and discussed politics. Dan went out of his way to be the perfect companion, making no demands on her, and Rorie was grateful.

It was still relatively early when he drove her back to her apartment, and he eagerly accepted her invitation for coffee. As he eased the MG into a narrow space in front of her building, he suddenly paused, frowning.

“Do you have new neighbors?”

“Not that I know of. Why?”

Dan nodded toward the battered blue pickup across the street. “Whoever drives that piece of junk is about to bring down the neighborhood property values.”



Fourteen


“Clay.” His name escaped Rorie’s lips on a rush of excitement. She jerked open the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk, her legs trembling, her pulse thundering.

“Rorie?” Dan called, agitated. “Who is this man?”

She hardly heard him. A door slammed in the distance and Rorie whirled around and saw that Clay had been sitting inside his truck, apparently waiting for her to return. He’d been parked in the shadows, and she hadn’t noticed him.

Dan joined her on the pavement and placed his hand possessively on her shoulder. His grip was the only thing that rooted her in reality, his hand the restraining force that prevented her from flying into Clay’s arms.

“Who is this guy?” Dan asked a second time.

Rorie opened her mouth to explain and realized she couldn’t, not in a few words. “A...friend,” she whispered, but that seemed so inadequate.

“He’s a cowboy!” Dan hissed, making it sound as though Clay’s close-fitting jeans and jacket were the garb of a man just released from jail.

Clay crossed the street and his long strides made short work of the distance separating him from Rorie.

“Hello, Rorie.”

She heard the faint catch in his voice. “Clay.”

A muscle moved in his cheek as he looked past her to Dan, who squared the shoulders of his Brooks Brothers suit. No one spoke, until Rorie saw that Clay was waiting for an introduction.

“Clay Franklin, this is Dan Rogers. Dan is the stockbroker I... I mentioned before. It was his sports car I was driving.”

Clay nodded. “I remember now.” His gaze slid away from Rorie to the man at her side.

Dan stepped around Rorie and accepted Clay’s hand. She noticed that when Dan dropped his arm to his side, he flexed his fingers a couple of times, as though to restore the circulation. Rorie smiled to herself. Clay’s handshake was the solid one of a man accustomed to working with his hands. When Dan shook hands, it was little more than a polite business greeting, an archaic but necessary exchange.

“Clay and his brother, Skip, were the family who helped me when the MG broke down,” Rorie explained to Dan.