“Why? Couldn’t you see it coming? I’ve suspected it for some time. I’ve never been in love before, but I’m not so dense that I didn’t recognize the emotion when it hit me.”
“How could I have seen it coming?” she asked spiritedly. “My God, Derek, we’ve only known each other a week.”
“A week and two days. Not that it matters. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you sitting on that rickety stool in your apartment. I think I fell in love with you the first time I kissed you, though I was mad enough at that moment to strangle you.”
She couldn’t believe he was saying these things, not Derek. She’d known he wanted her, of course. But love? How could he tell her so calmly that he loved her, when she was certain that such an admission could not come easily to a reserved, careful man like Derek?
Searching her face, Derek stopped, his smile fading. “Maybe I’ve been taking too much for granted. I thought you were feeling the same way I was. Was I wrong, Summer?”
“I…” She let her voice trail off and dropped her eyes to hide her fear and confusion. “Derek, you can’t be in love with me. I’m not anything like the women you’ve dated before.”
He groaned. “Don’t start that again. I was never in love with any of the women I dated before. How could I have known what kind of woman I could fall in love with before I met you? I wasn’t even sure it was possible for me to fall in love. And then I fell head over heels for a smart mouth and the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen.” Before she could form a reply, his fingers tightened around her wrist in what she could almost believe was a surge of desperation.
“Summer, I love you. I can’t give you logical explanations or reasonable excuses, but I know it’s true. How do you feel about me?”
Avoiding his intense scrutiny, her eyes focused painfully on a framed photograph of Derek breaking the tape in a marathon race, his arms lifted in triumph above his head, healthy legs shown to perfection beneath his brief running shorts. “Derek, we need time,” she whispered. “It’s too soon. You—we can’t be sure.”
“Oh.”
The single syllable was stark enough to make her risk a quick look at his face. Derek was so good at hiding his feelings, but somehow she had learned to read him quite accurately in the past nine days. Only she could have seen that she had hurt him. She felt as if she’d plunged a knife into her own heart.
“Derek, you don’t understand. I care for you, of course I do, but—”
“But I’m no hero, right?” he finished tonelessly. “I’m still just Connie’s brother, Derek, the stuffed-shirt businessman who happens to kiss well enough to entice you into bed.”
The knife twisted. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Listen to me, Summer Reed.” He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting her face until his stormy gray eyes were boring directly into hers. “I’ll give you time if you need it, but I’m not giving up. I love you like no fairy-tale hero could ever love you, and I know you better than anyone else ever has. You don’t stand a chance against me. I have a reputation for achieving my goals, and you are my priority-one goal from now on. Do you understand?”
He had barked out the words in a militarily autocratic tone that automatically stiffened her spine. “I hear you, Derek.”
“Good. Believe it.” He leaned over to kiss her, hard, then released her. “Do you want me to take you home now?”
She wanted him to take her into his arms and make love to her. She wanted to allow herself to believe that he really loved her and that his infatuation would not go away when he tired of her erratic humor and offbeat life-style and her inability to keep up with him physically. She wanted to believe that her heart would not be permanently shattered when he moved on to someone else. She knew better. She’d thought Lonnie had hurt her when he’d turned away from her after the accident. She suspected now that she’d never known pain as she could know it if Derek were to love her for a time and then leave her.
No. She’d had too much pain. This time she had to protect herself.
“Yes, please, Derek. Take me home.”
Hurt and anger dulled the silver in his eyes, but he only nodded and reached for his scattered clothing as she did the same.
Though he walked her to the door after the painfully silent drive, carrying the packages she’d so cheerfully loaded into his arms several momentous hours earlier, Derek refused to go inside the apartment. He explained that he was not in the mood to deal with Connie just then. He transferred her packages to her arms, making a visible effort not to touch her. “When can I see you again?” he asked, the question verging on demand.
Summer looked pleadingly at him. “Please, Derek. I really think y—we need time. It’s happened too fast.”
His face hard, he glared immovably down at her. “When, Summer?”
She sighed. He would not make it easy for her, she thought glumly. His mind was set. She’d just have to prove to him that they were not suited to each other, no matter how desperately she wished they were. Perhaps another weekend with her would bore him, make him restless for someone who could play tennis or run with him. It would rip her heart to shreds, but perhaps he’d finally see what she was trying to tell him. “Call me later in the week,” she said finally. “Maybe next weekend—”
“Fine,” he cut in shortly. For a moment she thought he was going to walk away without another word. But then he reached for her, and his voice was urgent when he spoke. “It was good for us tonight, wasn’t it, Summer?”
Giving in to a momentary weakness, she dropped her packages unheeded to the floor and burrowed into his arms. “Oh, yes, Derek,” she breathed, looking up at him with an expression that left no doubt of her sincerity. “It was wonderful.”
“Better than anything that ever happened to me before. Remember that,” he told her softly. “Remember the way we’ve been drawn together from the beginning, despite our unimportant differences. Remember that you’ve been able to tell me things about yourself that you’ve never shared with anyone else. There’s more to what we have than sexual attraction, Summer, and you’re bright enough to figure that out if you’ll stop fighting it. I love you.”
He kissed her long and hard, with undertones of the passion they had shared in his bed. And then he was gone.
Summer was breathing raggedly when she entered the apartment. Connie was sitting on the couch, the telephone cradled on her shoulder as she painted her long nails a bright fuchsia. She smiled at Summer in greeting. Summer tried to return the smile as she passed the couch to her room, where she closed the door, threw her packages on a chair and fell in a nerveless heap on the bed.