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"Your guest over there looks as if she'd like to plant that glass she's holding in the middle of my
forehead," she commented as they were briefly alone.
"Missy likes a challenge. She's too young for me."
She glanced at him. "So you said."
His eyes searched hers. "And I'm not in the market for a second Mrs. Rourke."
"Point taken," she said.
His eyebrow jerked. "No argument?"
Her eyes sparkled. "I wasn't aware that I'd proposed to you," she replied with a grin. "We're temporary
neighbors and frequent sparring partners. That's all."
"What if I'd like to be more than your neighbor?" he asked with deli ualit
berate sens
y.
Her grin didn't waver. That was amusement in his face, not real interest. He was mocking her, and he
wasn't going to get away with it "Quentin might get upset about that."
"Quentin? Is there a real husband some
un
where in the backgro
d?" he probed.
She hesitated. He hadn't bought the commune story, so there was no way he was going to buy a secret
husband. This man was a little too savvy for her usual ways of dissuading pursuers.
"A male friend," she countered with a totally straight face.
The hand holding hers let go, gently and unobtrusively, but definitely. "You didn't mention him
before."
"There wasn't really an opportunity to," she countered. She smiled up at him.
college professor.
"He's a
He teaches medieval history at the University of Indiana on the Chicago campus, where my ts tea
paren
ch
anthropology."
His stance seemed to change imperceptibly. "Your parents are college professors?"
"Yes. They'r
di
e on a
g in some Mayan ruins in Quin-tana Roo. Kurt's been ill with tonsillitis and complications. They took
him out of school to get completely well and I'm tutoring him his lessons
with
until he goes back. We're near our parents, here in this villa, and I can get some work done and take
care of Kurt as well."
He was wary
and
, now,
not at all amused. "I suppose you have a degree, too?" he continued.
She wondered about the way he was looking at her, at the antagonistic set of his head, but she let it go
by and took the question at face value. "Well, yes. I
rs baccal
have an hono
aureate degree in history with a
minor in German."
He seemed to withdraw without even moving. He set his glass on an empty tray and his lean hands slid
into his pockets. His eyes moved restlessly
nd t
arou
he room.
"What sort of degree do you have?" she asked.
It was the wrong question. He closed up completely. "Let me introduce you to the Moores," he said,
taking her elbow. "They're interesting people."
She felt the new coolness in his manner with a sense of loss. She'd either offended him or alienated
him.
Perhaps he had som deep-seated prejudices about arch
e
aeology, which was the branch of anthropology in
which both her parents specialized. She was about to tell him that they were both active in helping to
enact legislation to help protect burial sites and insure that human skeletal remains were treated with
dignity and respect.
But he was already making the introductions, to a nice young couple in real estate. A minute later, he
ex-elf and went poi
cused hims
ntedly to join his friend Missy Elliger, whom he'd said was too young for him.
Judging by the way he latched on to her hand, and held it, he'd already forgotten that she was too g
youn
for him. Or, she mused humorously, he'd decided that Missy was less dangerous than Janine. How
very flattering!
f the evening
But the rest o
was a dead loss as far as Janine was concerned. She felt ill at ease and somewhat contagious, because
he made a point of keeping out of her way. He was very d
polite, an
courteous, but he might as well have been on another planet. It was such a radical and abrupt shift that
it puzzled her.
Even Karie and Kurt noticed, from their vantage point beside a large potted palm near the patio.
"They looked pretty good together for a few minutes," Kurt said.
"Yes," she agreed, balancing a plate of cake on her knee. "Then they seemed to explode apart, didn't
they?"
"Janie doesn't like men to get too close," Kurt told her with a grimace. "The only reason her
boyfriend, Quentin, has lasted so long is because he forgets her for weeks at a time when he's
translating old manuscripts."
"He what?" Karie asked, her fork poised in midair.
"He forgets her," he replied patiently. "And since he isn't pushy and doesn't try to get her to marry
him, they get along just fine. Janine likes her independence," he added. "She doesn't want to get
married."
"I guess my dad feels that way right now, too," Karie had to admit. "But he and my mom were never
together much. Mom hates him now because she couldn't get exclusive custody of me. She swore
she'd get me away from
him eventually, but we haven't heard from her in several weeks. I suppose she's forgotten. He's
forgetful, too, sometimes, when he's working on some new program. I guess that's hard on moms."
"He and Janie would make the perfect couple," Kurt ventured. "They'd both be working on something [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]