conducting your affairs in a closet,” Beth said defensively. “Of course people are going to talk.”
She could feel his gaze on her face. “I wouldn’t have a minute for any of them if you’d give me half a chance,” he said quietly.
Beth’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“You know it’s true,” Bram added. “But you’ve made it clear that you wouldn’t have me if I came gift wrapped. So what am I supposed to do? Enter a monastery?”
Beth kept her eyes on the road, not answering.
Bram looked out the window, throwing his strong profile into sharp relief as they passed a streetlight. “Bethany, I don’t understand you. You want me so much you tremble like a leaf in the wind every time I touch you. You care about me, or you wouldn’t have come out at this hour when you heard I was in trouble. Why won’t you give us what we both need?”
“You know why,” she whispered, still not looking at him.
“Oh, yes,” he said in a resolute tone. “Love, or the lack of it. Wonderful love, which makes the world go round, the last best hope of the human race.” He gestured dismissively. “It’s overrated.”
“How do you know? Have you ever been in love?”
“I’ve seen the behavior of people who said they were in love, and believe me, that was enough.” His tone became cynical. “Take my father, for example. A strong, intelligent, capable man. Until he fell in love with darling Anabel. His brains, his strength, his entire constitution went out the window. He became a stupid, fawning weakling, and all for a woman who...” he stopped abruptly.
“A woman who...?” Beth prodded.
But Bram was too quick for her. “Never mind,” he answered. “Suffice it to say that I can do without an emotion that can transform me into what he became.”
“So you’ve got it all figured out, have you?” Beth asked.
“I think so.”
“If you let yourself love anybody, it will diminish you and make you putty in that person’s hands?”
His silence was confirmation.
“Then I feel sorry for you,” Beth concluded. “You’re going to be alone all your life.”
“We’re all alone all our lives,” he replied. “You’re kidding yourself if you believe otherwise.”
“Is that what you learned in the merchant marine?”
“I learned to take care of myself.”
“Oh, I can see that,” Beth said tartly. “You did a great job of taking care of yourself tonight.”
“Tonight was different,” he said defensively.
“I hope so. I hope you don’t make a habit of this sort of thing.”
“Give me a break, Bethany,” he sighed. “I feel ridiculous enough as it is.”
“Are you going to tell me about it?”
He shrugged. She barely saw the movement in the scant light.
“Nothing much to tell. I got tanked and into a fight. Somebody called the cops.”
“How did you hurt your arm?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “This guy I hit smashed a beer bottle and cut me with the end of it.”
Beth’s foot slipped off the accelerator. “What! I’m going to take you to an emergency room right this minute. You could get an infection.” She started to pull off onto the shoulder of the road.
“I am not going to any damn hospital,” he said with absolute conviction.
“Then maybe we really should call Dr.—”
“If you bring up Althea Reynolds again, I won’t be responsible for the consequences,” he interjected. His tone dripped icicles.
“All right,” Beth responded meekly. “Don’t get carried away.”
“Can’t you take care of it?” he asked, as she pulled back into her lane. “Put iodine on it or something?”
“I hope I won’t be putting a Band-Aid on an incision,” she said worriedly.
“Nah,” he responded. “I’ve been cut before. This is nothing. I was in a brawl once in Bilbao—some Basque separatist took exception to the fact that I was an American. He slashed me with this knife, looked like a scimitar.” He stopped abruptly when he noticed Beth’s frozen
She could feel his gaze on her face. “I wouldn’t have a minute for any of them if you’d give me half a chance,” he said quietly.
Beth’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“You know it’s true,” Bram added. “But you’ve made it clear that you wouldn’t have me if I came gift wrapped. So what am I supposed to do? Enter a monastery?”
Beth kept her eyes on the road, not answering.
Bram looked out the window, throwing his strong profile into sharp relief as they passed a streetlight. “Bethany, I don’t understand you. You want me so much you tremble like a leaf in the wind every time I touch you. You care about me, or you wouldn’t have come out at this hour when you heard I was in trouble. Why won’t you give us what we both need?”
“You know why,” she whispered, still not looking at him.
“Oh, yes,” he said in a resolute tone. “Love, or the lack of it. Wonderful love, which makes the world go round, the last best hope of the human race.” He gestured dismissively. “It’s overrated.”
“How do you know? Have you ever been in love?”
“I’ve seen the behavior of people who said they were in love, and believe me, that was enough.” His tone became cynical. “Take my father, for example. A strong, intelligent, capable man. Until he fell in love with darling Anabel. His brains, his strength, his entire constitution went out the window. He became a stupid, fawning weakling, and all for a woman who...” he stopped abruptly.
“A woman who...?” Beth prodded.
But Bram was too quick for her. “Never mind,” he answered. “Suffice it to say that I can do without an emotion that can transform me into what he became.”
“So you’ve got it all figured out, have you?” Beth asked.
“I think so.”
“If you let yourself love anybody, it will diminish you and make you putty in that person’s hands?”
His silence was confirmation.
“Then I feel sorry for you,” Beth concluded. “You’re going to be alone all your life.”
“We’re all alone all our lives,” he replied. “You’re kidding yourself if you believe otherwise.”
“Is that what you learned in the merchant marine?”
“I learned to take care of myself.”
“Oh, I can see that,” Beth said tartly. “You did a great job of taking care of yourself tonight.”
“Tonight was different,” he said defensively.
“I hope so. I hope you don’t make a habit of this sort of thing.”
“Give me a break, Bethany,” he sighed. “I feel ridiculous enough as it is.”
“Are you going to tell me about it?”
He shrugged. She barely saw the movement in the scant light.
“Nothing much to tell. I got tanked and into a fight. Somebody called the cops.”
“How did you hurt your arm?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “This guy I hit smashed a beer bottle and cut me with the end of it.”
Beth’s foot slipped off the accelerator. “What! I’m going to take you to an emergency room right this minute. You could get an infection.” She started to pull off onto the shoulder of the road.
“I am not going to any damn hospital,” he said with absolute conviction.
“Then maybe we really should call Dr.—”
“If you bring up Althea Reynolds again, I won’t be responsible for the consequences,” he interjected. His tone dripped icicles.
“All right,” Beth responded meekly. “Don’t get carried away.”
“Can’t you take care of it?” he asked, as she pulled back into her lane. “Put iodine on it or something?”
“I hope I won’t be putting a Band-Aid on an incision,” she said worriedly.
“Nah,” he responded. “I’ve been cut before. This is nothing. I was in a brawl once in Bilbao—some Basque separatist took exception to the fact that I was an American. He slashed me with this knife, looked like a scimitar.” He stopped abruptly when he noticed Beth’s frozen
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