Love's Miracles (30 page)

Her
voice broke. She took a deep breath so she could continue.

Zane
started to rise. Quickly she straightened and put up her hand.

“No,
don’t. Stay there.” She took a shaky breath. “It happened years ago. I have it
under control.”

He
eased back on the couch, alert and ready to move. Her body was tense, her face
constricted by the effort to keep her emotions in. She sat still and breathed
deeply, her eyes shut and fists clenched.

Zane
fought the urge to pull her into his arms. Several aspects of her fit into
place now: her determination to work with him, her ability not to condemn.
Maybe she really could understand part of what he’d gone through – the guilt,
the shame.

The
chilled sounds of her voice captured his attention. “The next day I came home
from school.
Maman
was at work. The house was dark and cold. My eyes
weren’t adjusted so I felt my way to the chair where my father usually sat.”

Her
breath came in gasps. Zane did move this time. He slid down the couch and
pulled her into his arms. She felt as cold as ice.

“He’d
shot himself. In the head.”

The
bile rose in his throat as his arms tightened around her. He wanted to scream
at God for life’s injustices. Surprisingly she continued on, but her voice had
hardened as if she’d packed that part of her life in ice.

“After
his death I hated the dark. I would have to leave the lights on all night and
windows open all day. If we were ever in the dark, I’d scream.” She gripped the
material of his tank top. “Now I get angry and frustrated at the thought of not
being able to help my father. But I was too young then to understand.”

She
shuddered again and this time Zane shuddered with her. What a set of childhood
memories. He wanted to ease the pain, take away the fear – but how? What kind
of peace could a man with as many problems as he had offer?

***

Firelight
flickered, but its glow had dimmed. Margo felt as faded as if her energy had
drained with each lick of flame. As she watched the play of light across the
high-beamed ceiling, she thought how safe it felt to be held in Zane’s arms.

What
a pair they made. After pouring out her past to Zane, she now understood one
very important fact. She, Dr. Margo Devaull, competent psychologist, needed to
go for counseling herself. The emotional turmoil alone that had unleashed
itself was a good indication, but the icy chill was the real clue. She hadn’t
forgiven her father for leaving her – and she hadn’t forgiven herself for not
being able to prevent his suicide.

Exhausted
and stiff from her bruises, she closed her eyes. The oblivion of sleep appealed
to her, but she’d have to get up and climb the stairs to the loft. She didn’t
want to do that; it felt too good to be held by Zane.

Her
face pressed against the rough hairs of his chest. His arms protected her from
more demons of the past. The thump of his heart beat in her ear and she relaxed
to the steady rhythm. She wanted to stay here for the rest of the night but
knew she couldn’t. In fact, she should get up now.

Reluctantly
she started to slip out of his embrace, but he tightened his hold.

“Rest
some more here. In front of the fire. Let me hold you.”

The
invitation was too tempting to ignore. Margo settled back down and relished his
full-bodied scent. He brushed her hair behind her ear and cupped the nape of
her neck. She almost willed him to kiss her, and with that realization she sat
upright. She swung her legs onto the floor and groaned as pain shot up from the
bruise on her side.

Zane
let her go, but he didn’t smile as he leaned back and watched her. “Still not
going to break down those ethics?”

The
hint of respect bolstered her courage. “It isn’t just ethics, Zane, and I think
you know that. I could easily become involved with you. But it wouldn’t be good
for you or me. We both have things we need to work out. We’re no good for each
other right now.” She reached over and took his hand in hers. “Neither one of
us would be happy with a relationship of dependency. We need to be strong.”

His
attempt at a laugh ended up more like a groan. “You’re right, but where do we
go from here? I don’t want you in my life now. But I don’t want you out of it either.”

Margo
looked at him, the angular features contoured in the dim light. She wanted to
reach out to him but held back, wondering if at last she’d found love.

“It
depends on you,” she had to tell him. “If you commit to therapy and then still
feel the same about me…”

“This
isn’t a passing interest because you’re a doctor.”

“Isn’t
it?” she asked, wishing his words were true but knowing that once she left he
could become engrossed in himself and forget her.

“Will
you keep in touch?” he asked.

“I
can write. I’ll leave my address and phone number.” Her glance locked with his.
“Call me if you really need help.”

“Do
you have someone to call?”

She
nodded. He reached out to touch her but paused, his hand a breath away from her
cheek. Margo watched the play of emotions in his gaze. When he dropped his
hand, she sighed with regret as she stood and went up the lonely flight of
stairs to the loft.

Zane
whistled as he shaved the remaining whiskers. He stared at the stranger in the
mirror and shook his head. It was odd to see the happy lights dancing in his
eyes.

He
finished shaving and quickly showered before putting on a clean pair of jeans
and one of his newer sky-blue shirts. For the first time he was glad Sara had
insisted on sending clothes with Vinnie. A quick check in the mirror made him
smile.

Margo
was upstairs sleeping. Before dawn he had finally dropped off to sleep himself
– just long enough to recharge. Too many things had happened too fast to allow
him the peace of mind to sleep.

He
paced from the living room to the kitchen and to the living room again. He
looked up at the loft and then at his watch. Nine o’clock. Wasn’t she ever
going to wake up? He’d been about for an hour and he wanted to talk.

Who
would have believed it? Certainly not him. He didn’t want to care for someone
again, but with Margo he couldn’t seem to help it. It was more than physical
attraction, although that played its part. He felt comfortable and at ease with
her. He glanced at the loft again.

The
coffee maker gurgled as it finished brewing. He looked at it and smiled. Surely
the smell of hot coffee could lure her awake. He hurried across the kitchen,
curling his toes on top of the cool tiles of the floor.

Sunlight
reflected against the windows, sending warm shafts of light into the spacious
room. Dust particles floated in the air, giving the place an aura of stillness.

He
had let her sleep in. She was tired and her fall had been traumatic, taking a
lot out of her – and him, for that matter. But she’d had enough sleep now; he
wanted to see her smile.

Aromatic
steam curled upward as he carefully carried the earthenware mug upstairs. He
paused when he caught sight of her. Dark hair capped her head and one curl
curved across her chin. Thick lashes shadowed her cheeks. In spite of bruises,
her skin glowed in the morning light while her body formed inviting hills and
valleys beneath the sheet.

He
gripped the cup and willed his pulse to return to normal. He’d known all along
he’d wanted to get her into his bed, but yesterday, when he’d seen her hanging
precariously down the cliff, he knew he wanted more. He already admitted he
cared, but there was more than that and it was something he wouldn’t
contemplate yet.

He
was about to turn around and go downstairs when she moved. Coral-tipped toes
slid out from under the sheet. Entranced, Zane visually traced from the pointed
toes upward across sloping lines until he encountered wide brown eyes.

He
stared into their depths, intrigued by the sleepy gaze. With a bold sweep she
took him in from top to toe, probably noticing his groomed appearance. When her
glance went back to his hands, her face lit up into warm sunshine. “Is that hot
coffee I smell?”

“It’s
about time you woke up.”

“It’s
a treat to sleep in,” she told him. “Coffee smells good.”

“Don’t
tell me you want a cup in bed?”

She
sent him a hopeful grin. “It would seem like I’d gone to heaven if you brought
it to me.”

“Guess
I’d better or you’ll end up sleeping all day.”

“That’s
an idea. Would you mind?”

She
stretched and Zane’s interest heightened. He was tempted to toss the cup and
crawl into bed with her, but he didn’t. He’d have to settle for waking her up
to share the day with him.

“Here.
Drink this. It’ll get you going.” He sat on the edge of the bed and held out
the coffee.

She
reached for the mug, bracing against the movement of the water bed. “I could
sure get used to this.” She breathed in the aromatic steam and cast him a
wistful glance.

“Don’t
give me those big eyes.”

“Big
eyes?”

“You
keep looking at me like that and I’ll be right there in bed with you.”

Her
eyes
did
get big then.

There
was no reason to get cocky. She’d managed to keep him away during the night. As
he watched her sip the coffee, the sheet slid and exposed a round shoulder. He
wanted to smooth his fingers on it.

As
if reading his mind, she started to tug on the sheet but winced, almost
spilling her coffee.

“Easy
now.” Zane reached for her hand and steadied it. “You must be stiff and sore
this morning.”

Carefully
he inched the sheet over her shoulder and tried not to notice the softness of
her skin.

“I
have felt better.”

“How
about breakfast? It’s after nine.”

Surprise
showed in her eyes. “I don’t usually sleep that late. I bet you’re the one
who’s hungry.”

“As
a bear.” He smiled. “And waiting for you to get up.”

Her
return smile warmed his heart. To think he’d denied himself this sharing. A
tiny voice warned him that he shouldn’t enjoy it so much, that when she left…

He
ignored the warning and spoke. “Since you were here overnight, can you stay for
the rest of the day?”

***

Margo
studied the look of anticipation and hated the idea of disappointing him. “As
much as I’d love to” – and she would, she realized – “I’ll have to say no. I
need to get into town and call my secretary. She’ll have to cancel my afternoon
appointments.”

She
never scheduled appointments until two-thirty on Mondays, a habit that had
proven practical many times before today. Thankfully her mother was out of town
at a conference, so she wouldn’t be worried.

Zane
stood, obviously reluctant to leave. “I’ll go fix breakfast then.”

She
sipped her coffee as she watched him disappear down the stairs. His departure
left an empty space in her heart as well as in the room. It was going to be
very difficult to leave. In fact, it was going to be next to impossible.

It
was a half hour before Margo finally did get up. Stiff and aching, she showered
and put on the dress she’d worn yesterday before changing into the cut-offs.
She smiled at Zane’s reaction to the red cotton jersey.

“Looks
like you tried to make a dress out of a tank top for a giant,” he told her.

“I
see you need an education on the latest fashions. You’ve been in these hills
too long.”

“You
can wear whatever pleases you,” he assured her. “I’m not crazy about convention
myself.”

“We
have that in common,” she said before taking a sip of the coffee he’d set for
her at the island counter.

Zane
brought two plates of eggs that had been fried with sausage, onions, and
peppers and placed them side by side at the counter. Margo took an appreciative
whiff and thought what a pleasure this morning intimacy was.

He
sat down beside her. “We have a lot more in common.” His gaze was serious as it
focused on her. “We both like opera. You seem to like animals.”

“I
didn’t realize how much I’d enjoy them,” she admitted. “Do you think we could
get to the grove and back in an hour? I’d like to see them again before I
leave.”

Zane
nodded. “We’ll take some food. That’ll guarantee they show up.”

It
didn’t take long to finish the meal. Outside it was already beginning to get
hot. The sun beat down on Margo’s back as they crossed the meadow. She breathed
in the clear air and realized she was going to miss her visits here, for more
reasons than one. Not seeing Zane again was going to be painful, but the peace
she found in the serene environment would also be missed.

In
the shadowed stillness of the grove, animals scurried to the feeding platform
as Zane had promised. She knelt on the ground, ignoring her aches and bruises,
and watched the scene. She could feel Zane’s gaze trained on her. She tried to
ignore it and focus instead on the animals. It was impossible. Finally she slid
her glance to his and was immediately captured.