“If it makes you feel any better, I think I’ve replaced you as his next project,” Summer said on a sigh.
Connie thoughtfully twirled a long red curl around one fingertip. “I noticed something different about Derek at the party tonight, Summer. With you, he’s different. He teased you and smiled at you, and I could have almost sworn that the Derek I knew years ago was back. He was even more relaxed with me when you were around. I think you’re good for him.”
Summer shook her head quickly, not wanting to hear anything that might lead to false hopes. “No, Connie, it wouldn’t work. He’d start trying to change me, and I’d hate being told what to do.
“You have a point there.” Connie released the curl she’d twisted into a corkscrew tangle and stared down glumly at her crimson-painted toenails. “I don’t know if it’s possible for him to learn when to butt out.”
For a time the two young women sat in almost identical poses, faces cradled in hands, elbows propped on knees, as they contemplated the exasperating man whom both were drawn to despite their annoyance with him. Summer was the first to rouse from their mutual stupor.
“The hell with it,” she announced, pushing herself off the couch. “I’m going to bed, and I suggest you do the same thing. We’ll both get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow we’ll wake up fresh and ready to take on one Derek Anderson.”
“You’re right,” Connie agreed decisively, rising to stand beside her friend. “Uh, Summer?”
“Yes, Connie?” Summer paused on the way to her bedroom to look back over her shoulder.
“What I would really like is for Derek to just love me, without qualifications, exactly the way I am. I don’t suppose you’d want the same thing from him, would you?”
Summer tossed her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m holding out for a hero, remember? Not a stuffed-shirt businessman.” She wished she could have had just a little more conviction in her voice.
“So you’ve gotten immune to his kisses, huh? They didn’t turn you on tonight?”
Summer sighed deeply. “No more than a current of electricity turns on a light bulb. Damn the man.” She closed the door firmly on Connie’s sudden laughter.
7
IF ONLY SHE COULD close the door as resolutely on her thoughts as she had on her roommate, Summer thought much later, tossing and turning in her bed. Derek had shaken her badly tonight, especially when he’d made her realize how much she wanted to make love with him. And he’d wanted her. Why? Why would he want a woman of whom he disapproved so strongly? What was it about her that attracted him?
Even more to the point, what was it about him that attracted her? After all, he wasn’t handsome. Sexy, yes. Virilely attractive, yes. Nicely built, yes. But not handsome.
And he didn’t have a great sense of humor. Well, maybe he did, judging from the way he’d teased her and the suspiciously smile-like gleam that flitted so often in his lovely pewtery eyes. But he certainly did his best to keep his sense of humor hidden.
He was arrogant and overbearing. She tried to forget the gentleness he’d shown her, first when he thought he’d hurt her last Saturday and even tonight, when he should have been angry at being so abruptly rejected. How could he have been so understanding?
He was too conventional. Yes, there was one accusation that would stick. Summer craved adventure, excitement. That was why she drifted from job to job, trying to find something to replace the thrill of dancing and acting, why she hated schedules and routines, why she’d moved to an eccentric town like San Francisco, a place as different from Rose Bud, Arkansas, as anyone could possibly imagine. Derek had put excitement and adventure behind him, choosing a quiet, settled life as a businessman over his former government career. Now his idea of adventure probably consisted of trying out a new restaurant or a new brand of toothpaste.
So what did Derek see in her? Was she his thrill of the month? Did he get some kind of kick out of the idea of taking a free-spirited, lame butterfly to his bed?
Deciding that she would never decipher Derek’s motives tonight, Summer rolled over in the bed, slammed her fist into her pillow a couple of times and pulled the covers to her ears. She lay still for a long moment, deliberately concentrating on clearing her mind of all thought.
Which left it open to sensation.
Once again she could feel Derek’s arms around her as soft music swirled around them, could feel his lips on hers, his hands on her back, his breath and tongue on her breasts. “Dammit!” she muttered, kicking off her covers and throwing her pillow to the floor in an unwonted temper tantrum. “Get out of my bedroom, Derek Anderson!”
She plopped onto her stomach, leaving her pillow where it had fallen, and willed herself into a restless sleep.
Across the bay Derek lay in his bed and stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, his arms behind his head. The pieces of the puzzle that made up Summer Reed were slowly beginning to come together for him. Despite her pretense of carefree sophistication, Summer was basically a sweet, somewhat old-fashioned young woman who still believed in the values she’d been taught during her childhood in Rose Bud, Arkansas. She loved to laugh but behind the laughter were tears that she would allow no one to see. Tears of disappointment for the career she’d never had a chance to pursue, tears of frustration for the unfulfilling life she’d drifted into, tears of chagrin for the uncomfortable disability that prevented her from participating in many of the activities a healthy young woman of her age enjoyed. Dancing, sports, runs on the beach. Perhaps even limited her daily activities. Shopping, walking. He’d noticed the way her limp grew even more pronounced when she’d been standing for a long time.
He hated the th
ought of Summer in pain. Just the idea of her lying bloody and torn on a street after the accident made him break out in a cold sweat. Did the leg still give her pain? Of course it did. He’d seen injuries like that before, in Vietnam, and they never completely healed. But she’d never let on if she were in pain. She’d just make a joke about it and change the subject.
She was so very vulnerable. So afraid of being hurt again. Had she really thought he didn’t know that? Did she really think he’d ever do anything to hurt her? He wasn’t going to let her insecurities stand between them when something much stronger was pulling them together.
Derek was beginning to suspect exactly what it was he felt for Summer Reed, though he would wait until he was sure before applying a label to his feelings. Unlike Summer, the idea of a relationship, a permanent relationship, did not frighten him at all. She was wonderful; she was everything he’d been looking for. He wanted nothing more than to make her happy.
Derek went to sleep feeling very optimistic about his future, exhilarated by his new mission.
DEREK STOOD outside Summer and Connie’s apartment at nine o’clock on Sunday morning, just in case Summer had planned to leave early to avoid seeing him. He pressed the doorbell. He knew his pursuit of Summer Reed would not be an easy one. She was going to resist him. She’d spent too many years hiding her feelings to open up to him immediately. But what the heck—he’d taken on assignments with slimmer odds and won. He had every confidence he would win this time. He pressed the bell again.