“No missteps? No rebellious behavior?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I had my share of wild nights with my buddies. Made some insensitive mistakes with the women I dated.” He lobbed a question in her direction to see if she’d give him a decent answer. “How about you?”
“Not very fascinating, I’m afraid. I majored in finance so I could eventually become the CFO of the family business.” She smiled. “I’ve had a few wild nights with my buddies, too.”
“And then you found Mr. Right?”
She blinked. “What makes you say that?”
“Maybe I was imagining it, but a few times I thought you looked at me as if you might be sort of interested. Then you seemed to catch yourself, as if you couldn’t go there. I assumed there’s someone back home.”
“Oh.” She met his gaze, but she didn’t confirm or deny.
He couldn’t push for the information, either. She’d agreed to this arrangement with the understanding there would be none of that. “Never mind,” he said. “Shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“I’m sorry.” He let out a breath. They needed a change of venue, and the small kitchen table and chairs seemed too cozy. “Let’s take our tea and coffee into the living room and talk about something else. I like having you here, and I don’t want to mess that up.”
“Neither do I,” she said gently. “I’m enjoying being here.”
“You are? Really? You’re not just tolerating the situation, and me, for your brother’s sake?”
“No, I’m not. Now that I know you a little better, I understand why you feel so protective toward your sister. I’m not condoning the overprotective part, but I really do see how this whole situation developed.” She checked the time again and picked up the teapot.
“Thanks, I think.”
“Besides that, you’ve shown remarkable good humor with the water tricks. I’ve seen firsthand how ticked off someone can get over those pranks, and you’re letting it roll off your back. That’s great.” She finished pouring her tea.
“That sounded like an actual compliment.”
“It was.”
“On that positive note, I’ll pour myself a cup of coffee and we can toast our developing friendship.”
She laughed. “Sure, we can do that. Let’s move to the living room. I’m hoping you’ll open that other envelope. If Cynthia went to that much trouble, we need to look at what’s inside.”
“You’re right.” And he would open it, now that she was here. The psychic punch would be easier to handle with Giselle around.
As they went into the living room, Giselle thought Luke seemed to be buying her apparent lack of interest in him, and she was grateful for that. He thought she had somebody back home, and she was willing to let him make that assumption, too. Just so he didn’t guess the truth, that she was more drawn to him with every second that passed.
Sure, he was a gorgeous man. She’d noticed that right off the bat. But she’d thought his overprotective behavior toward his sister would keep her from being the least bit attracted to this off-limits human male. Now, however, she had a clearer picture of why he was that way.
He hadn’t said that his parents had been so absorbed in each other that they hadn’t always known what their kids were up to. Yet she had the strong feeling that might have been the case. Even if it hadn’t been, a psychic connection with his sister made him superconscious of when she might be in danger. Maybe the link wasn’t as strong now that they were both adults, but he’d maintained the habit of watchfulness.
He did that not because he was a controlling jerk, which she’d first supposed, but because he’d considered it his job ever since he’d fished her out of the swimming pool and saved her life. He might doubt that anyone else cared as much as he did. That was touching, although he had to realize that she now cared about herself, which meant he could ease up on his constant watchfulness.
She thought he might be getting there. His struggle to evolve had captured her, too. He was beginning to see that if he didn’t, he’d lose his relationship with his sister, and she was the most important person in the world to him. Judging from her concerted effort to make him accept her new plan, the feeling was mutual.
So now, as Giselle lowered herself to the plump cushions of the sectional, being careful not to spill her mug of tea, she looked across at the guy sitting a few feet away and saw a loving, caring man. When he’d walked into the kitchen earlier, her heart had leaped with pleasure to see him. He’d looked a little mussed, a little tired. She fought the urge to go over and wrap her arms around him.
He set his mug on the coffee table and picked up the envelope lying there. “So you want to see what’s in here?”
“I do.”
He nudged open the flap. “Considering what song the gondolier sang to us, I have a good idea which picture this is. She probably intended for me to see it before we went on that ride. A preview of what was to come.” He pulled it out. “Yep.”
“What is it?”
He handed her the eight-by-ten. “That’s what she wore for her ‘I Hope You Dance’ solo when she was a freshman in high school.”
Giselle gazed at the golden-haired young woman who was almost too beautiful to be real. She was dressed in a knee-length ballet gown that complemented her slender, just-beginning-to-bloom figure.
“There’s something else in here.” He pulled out what looked like a program. “Oh, man. She took this out of her collection of souvenirs. I can’t believe she risked giving it to some stranger.” He unfolded the program.
Giselle gazed at him and wondered if he even remembered she was in the room. He seemed transported to another place, another time.
“She had everyone in her dance class autograph this, and the teacher, of course,” he said. “And then . . .” He paused and took a shaky breath. “She asked my parents and me to sign it. She said she couldn’t have danced the solo without our support.” He stared at the program for a moment longer, and then laid it on the coffee table. His hand trembled slightly when he did that. “Excuse me. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Giselle sat cradling her tea mug and wondering what to do. Obviously, he was overcome by emotion and didn’t want her to see that. If she were smart, she’d stay right where she was until he composed himself and returned to the living room.
Obviously, she wasn’t all that smart. She set down her tea and stood. She’d been the one who’d urged him to open that envelope. He shouldn’t have to deal with the consequences by himself.
He’d gone through a door that she assumed led to his bedroom. The room was dim, but she saw him, his hands braced against a low dresser. Although he made no sound, his shoulders quivered.
Walking over to him, she placed her hand on his back.
He jerked as if she’d laid a hot iron there. His choked response was definite. “No.”
“Luke.”
“Go.”
“I want to help.”
He turned, and the glow from the lights of Vegas revealed the tears glistening on his cheeks. “They told me I needed to cry,” he said in a thick voice. “I couldn’t. Until now.”
“Then go ahead.” She held out her arms. “Go ahead and cry.”
With a groan, he gathered her close. His big body shook, and he held her so tight that she had trouble breathing. But that was okay. Crooning words of comfort, she stroked his silky hair. No one should be alone when they mourned the loss of all they’d held dear. She was here, and there was nowhere else in the world she wanted to be.
Chapter 12
Luke knew he should be embarrassed for losing control, but holding Giselle felt so damned good that he was willing to deal with the embarrassment. And as his grief eased, he felt cleansed, as if he’d stepped out of a clear mountain waterfall into a bright ray of sunshine. What a gift she’d given him.