you’d like it, then let me love you.”
If
she decided she wanted him? She was melting, trembling, aching with need right at that moment, and he’d scarcely touched her. “It’s all wrong. You have everything all mixed up. You don’t really want me.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Lily, my love, if I don’t want you, then why am I going to have to hightail it out of here before Cassie glances over and notices something most peculiar about my physique?”
“It’s just some sort of romantic fixation,” she said desperately. “I’m the mother of your child, and the situation intrigues you.”
“Then let me get the fixation out of my system in the most pleasant possible way.”
“You said this wasn’t about sex.”
“It’s not, but sex is a way I can get closer to you.”
“No, that’s not—” She broke off as she scrambled to her feet. “I have to get Cassie. The tide’s beginning to come in.”
He stood up slowly. “You’re running away.”
“You bet I am.” She quickly scooped up the thermos, plates, and cups and dumped them into the rattan picnic basket. “You’re a menace. What did you major in at good old Franklin University? Seduction?”
“I never said I attended Franklin.” His tone was abstracted as he picked up the beach rug and started to fold it. “Will you come tonight?”
“I have to get Cassie.” She refused to meet his gaze as she picked up the basket, and spoke quickly, almost feverishly. “I should have told her to build that beautiful sand castle closer to the cliff. She’s going to be heartbroken when the tide washes it away.”
“No, she won’t. She’s finished it. It belongs to her now. The feeling of creation can’t be taken away from her.”
“Even if the product of her creative labor is destroyed? Don’t be silly. It’s pure folly to build something knowing it’s going to be destroyed.” She turned to face him. “Can’t you see that?”
He shook his head. “You build, you enjoy, you let go.” He paused. “But you never really lose anything. The experience is always a part of you.”
“Cassie!” she called. “It’s time to go home.” They watched the little girl as she waved in acknowledgment before gathering her pail and shovels.
“You don’t believe me,” Andrew said.
“You’re a romantic,” Lily said crisply as she took the beach rug from him. “I’m a realist. Never the twain shall meet. Can’t you see what a disaster any relationship between us would be?”
“No.” He waved good-bye to Cassie and started across the beach toward the path leading up the cliff. “I’ll be here tonight.”
“I won’t come.”
He didn’t look back. “I’ll still be here.”
• • •
She wouldn’t go down to the beach.
Her hands gripped her upper arms as she gazed down at the crashing surf. There was no question about her doing anything so foolish as to start a sexual relationship with a man like Andrew.
She turned, quickly crossed the deck, and entered the cottage. She shot the bolt on the front door and turned off the lamps. If he was watching the cottage, he would see the lights go out, know she had no intention of coming to him, and go away.
She peeped in at Cassie to make sure she was sleeping soundly, then went to her own room and closed the door. Without turning on the light she crossed to the window and flipped open the blind.
Darkness. No moon-silvered beach that night. Even if Andrew was waiting down there, she would not be able to see him from this window.
Andrew was there. She knew he was.
She could race to the beach, into his arms, and he would pull her down in the sand to move overher. He would smell clean and salty, as he had that afternoon; his body would be strong, eager, even frantic.
Lord, what was she thinking? She was no dog in heat. She was a mature woman, who made decisions with her mind, not with her glands. So she needed a man. It didn’t have to be this man. Perhaps Andrew was right
Learning to Kill: Stories