Can't Stop Loving You by Peggy Webb Page B

battle.
    “All right,” she said. “Say whatever it is
that you came in here to say. But you must know this: I don’t
really care what you have to say, Brick. As far as I’m concerned,
you’re wasting your breath.”
    “That’s a chance I have to take.”
    “Fine. Just so we understand each other.”
    She tipped her head to one side, waiting, and
suddenly he realized that he had no idea where to start.
    “This is not going to be as easy as I’d
thought.”
    “Nothing ever is, is it?”
    “No, Helen. Nothing is ever easy.”
    Restless, he prowled to the other side of the
room, turning his back on Helen so he wouldn’t be distracted by the
sight of her wearing nothing but a towel. She waited quietly.
    That had always been one of her good
qualities, the ability to be still. She didn’t have the nervous
need of some women to fill every small silence with meaningless
chatter.
    Coward. Tell her
.
    He rammed his hands into his pockets and
turned back to her. She hadn’t moved.
    “I have no fiancee, Helen.”
    “You’ve broken up with Barb?”
    “No. There never was anything to break
up.”
    “I’m leaving.” Helen got to her feet. “I have
no intention of sitting here in a towel, listening to your tales of
romantic misfortune.”
    He couldn’t have made a bigger mess if he’d
tried.
    “Helen...” He caught her shoulders. “Please
don’t go yet. I’m telling the truth badly.”
    “I hope you don’t intend to keep me here by
force.” She looked pointedly at his hands on her shoulders.
    “No.” Releasing her, he stepped back. “You’re
free to go, Helen.” She hesitated. “Leave.” He nodded toward the
door.
    Still, she watched him.
    “All right,” she finally said. “I can’t go.
My curiosity would kill me.” She gave him a rueful smile. “You know
me too well.”
    “Or perhaps not well enough.” He raked her
from head to toe with his eyes, loving the way she flushed.
    “I’m going to put on my clothes. I feel at a
clear disadvantage talking to you in a towel.”
    “Feel free.”
    “Turn your back.”
    “Turn my back?”
    “Yes. Or close your eyes.”
    “You have to be joking. As many times as I’ve
seen you dress...”
    “You no longer have the right to watch me
dress and undress. You forfeited those two years ago.”
    “I forfeited them?”
    “Yes. That’s what a divorce means.
Forfeiture. No more rights. No more privileges.”
    “I never wanted a divorce.”
    “Well, I certainly d—” Uncertain, Helen
paused. “Do as you please, then.” She reached for her clothes.
    Brick turned his back on her and stood facing
the door, alternately whistling and grinning.
    “Wipe that smile off your face,” she
said.
    “How do you know I’m smiling?”
    “Because I know you.”
    “All right.” He made a dramatic gesture with
his hand across his mouth. “It’s gone. Satisfied?”
    “Let me see.”
    “Does that mean I can turn around?”
    “Yes.”
    Barefoot, with no makeup, wearing black
designer jeans and a blue silk blouse, Helen looked sixteen. And
extremely vulnerable.
    Brick took both her hands.
    “Helen, I hired Barb Gladly to pose as my
fiancee for this trip to New Hampshire because I was scared to
death of you.”
    “Afraid of me?”
    “Of being near you, of working side by side
on the stage, of seeing you across the table at every meal, of
knowing you’d be down the hall from me curled in bed with your hair
spread across the pillow and your left hand tucked under your
cheek.” He lifted her hands, turned them over, and kissed both
palms.
    “I had to protect myself,” he added.
    “You thought I would come after you?”
    “No. I thought I would come after you.”
    o0o
    Helen pulled her hands out of his and laced
them behind her so he wouldn’t see how they shook. Passion. Joy.
Hope. All the feelings she’d kept at bay for two years sprang to
life.
    And yet, how could she dare to hope? Nothing
had changed.
    “That’s totally absurd,” she said, then