couldn’t pinpoint the moment when she had finally given up thinking of Joshua as just a friend. The hours they’d spent together would have taken up two months of dating in the real world, but she still wasn’t sure she knew him well enough. Oh, she knew
him
—that he hated salads and liked his hamburgers with everything; that he preferred prewashed faded jeans; that all the clothes she’d seen him in were natural fabrics; that he was a sucker for shirts in rich brown or gold or burgundy; that he loved the mountains; and a million other details—but she didn’t know about
his past.
All she knew was that he didn’t have much family left in the area, that he didn’t appear to need money, and that he was retired from some vague enterprise that required travel around the world.
Dr. Grenwald had called him a man she could trust with a secret. At the time it seemed an odd comment, since she didn’t have any secrets. Now she understood what he meant. Joshua Logan was an honorable man. He kept his word. He had earned respect.
All these details were more important than a biography, but she couldn’t shake years of hearing her mother say, “You can never know too much about a man, Victoria. People make bad choices because they don’t have the right information.” Hadn’t she made a mistake with Richard because she hadn’t asked what he wanted out of marriage?
Tonight she should have asked Joshua more questions,made him talk more about himself, what he wanted, and his past. But he always seemed to steer the conversation in the opposite direction. Common sense told her that she should call a halt to the rush of excitement that ripped through her as his fingers stroked her bare arm while they walked. But knowing and doing didn’t always go together.
For once it was nice to do what she wanted and not what she
should.
She wanted to believe in possibilities and not worry about getting too close and the risk of trusting another man with her emotions. She wanted to get on that motorcycle of his and let the wind blow all the bad memories out of her head and—Victoria almost stumbled as she realized why Joshua had the bike. You couldn’t think on a bike. Not when it was going that fast. Not about anything but the road.
She wondered what bad memories he was chasing away. Unconsciously, she hugged him a little tighter. She understood all about getting away from the past.
Joshua felt the gentle squeeze from Victoria. He looked down at the top of her head which lay against his chest as they walked. He felt a momentary stab of guilt at the trust she was placing in him, considering the secrets he was keeping and how little he’d told her of himself. Time was running out. He’d have to tell her soon. The new book was coming out next month.
Carefully, Joshua disengaged himself and pulled a windbreaker from the compartment beneath the seat of the motorcycle. Shaking it out, he offered it to her and waited as she slid into it and reached to straightenthe collar. He noticed the almost imperceptible quiver of her hands as he brushed them aside to do it for her.
In that split second, as their hands touched, the emotions of fear and lust stabbed through him. The emotions weren’t his. They were Victoria’s. For the first time he’d made a connection, even though it was transitory. He pushed, but the wall around her was firmly in place again.
“It unnerves you when I touch you, doesn’t it? I mean, more than you’re used to,” he murmured. The knowledge rekindled his desire to the intensity he’d felt on the dance floor. “More than you want to admit. Even to yourself.”
Victoria lifted her chin and cleared her throat. “Joshua, I’m not a starry-eyed virgin.”
Her skin was soft beneath his fingers, and he could tell that she was holding her breath. “Then don’t act like one. Love, I want the woman I see glimpses of. The one who shakes because she’s afraid of shocking me. You’re holding back. All the time.
him
—that he hated salads and liked his hamburgers with everything; that he preferred prewashed faded jeans; that all the clothes she’d seen him in were natural fabrics; that he was a sucker for shirts in rich brown or gold or burgundy; that he loved the mountains; and a million other details—but she didn’t know about
his past.
All she knew was that he didn’t have much family left in the area, that he didn’t appear to need money, and that he was retired from some vague enterprise that required travel around the world.
Dr. Grenwald had called him a man she could trust with a secret. At the time it seemed an odd comment, since she didn’t have any secrets. Now she understood what he meant. Joshua Logan was an honorable man. He kept his word. He had earned respect.
All these details were more important than a biography, but she couldn’t shake years of hearing her mother say, “You can never know too much about a man, Victoria. People make bad choices because they don’t have the right information.” Hadn’t she made a mistake with Richard because she hadn’t asked what he wanted out of marriage?
Tonight she should have asked Joshua more questions,made him talk more about himself, what he wanted, and his past. But he always seemed to steer the conversation in the opposite direction. Common sense told her that she should call a halt to the rush of excitement that ripped through her as his fingers stroked her bare arm while they walked. But knowing and doing didn’t always go together.
For once it was nice to do what she wanted and not what she
should.
She wanted to believe in possibilities and not worry about getting too close and the risk of trusting another man with her emotions. She wanted to get on that motorcycle of his and let the wind blow all the bad memories out of her head and—Victoria almost stumbled as she realized why Joshua had the bike. You couldn’t think on a bike. Not when it was going that fast. Not about anything but the road.
She wondered what bad memories he was chasing away. Unconsciously, she hugged him a little tighter. She understood all about getting away from the past.
Joshua felt the gentle squeeze from Victoria. He looked down at the top of her head which lay against his chest as they walked. He felt a momentary stab of guilt at the trust she was placing in him, considering the secrets he was keeping and how little he’d told her of himself. Time was running out. He’d have to tell her soon. The new book was coming out next month.
Carefully, Joshua disengaged himself and pulled a windbreaker from the compartment beneath the seat of the motorcycle. Shaking it out, he offered it to her and waited as she slid into it and reached to straightenthe collar. He noticed the almost imperceptible quiver of her hands as he brushed them aside to do it for her.
In that split second, as their hands touched, the emotions of fear and lust stabbed through him. The emotions weren’t his. They were Victoria’s. For the first time he’d made a connection, even though it was transitory. He pushed, but the wall around her was firmly in place again.
“It unnerves you when I touch you, doesn’t it? I mean, more than you’re used to,” he murmured. The knowledge rekindled his desire to the intensity he’d felt on the dance floor. “More than you want to admit. Even to yourself.”
Victoria lifted her chin and cleared her throat. “Joshua, I’m not a starry-eyed virgin.”
Her skin was soft beneath his fingers, and he could tell that she was holding her breath. “Then don’t act like one. Love, I want the woman I see glimpses of. The one who shakes because she’s afraid of shocking me. You’re holding back. All the time.
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