“No, we’re not expecting anyone,” Crista said. “Somebody probably rang our bell by mistake.”
The buzzer sounded again. Crista looked at the clock and frowned.
“It’s too late for anyone to just drop by…”
Unless it were Danny. She put down the wire and her long-nosed pliers, gently pushed the one-eared cat from her lap, and got to her feet. Danny had moved out two weeks ago, but she’d told him to come by anytime to say hello.
The gray cat and the scrawny puppy followed her down the hall and watched as she pressed the wall buzzer.
It would be good to see Danny, she thought as she lifted Sweetness into her arms. He’d met someone and fallen head over heels in love—“just like in an old Preston Sturges flick,” he’d said.
Crista was happy for him—and happy that he’d left. She still loved him like the big brother she’d never had, but he’d been driving her crazy with questions.
Like, how could she have ever thought herself in love with Grant Landon? And how could she still be in love with him after the way he’d treated her?
She didn’t know how to answer the first without admitting to Danny what she hated admitting even to herself—that she’d been incredibly naive and talked herself into thinking sexual desire was love.
As for the second question—she’d sworn a thousand times that she wasn’t in love with Grant, but Danny, who saw life through the frames of every sappy old movie ever made, refused to believe her.
“You’re turning into a pile of skin and bones,” he’d said, “and I hear you crying in your sleep. Crista, the guy’s a jerk, and you ought to forget all about him.”
Well, she was working on that. Danny just didn’t understand. Dreaming about Grant didn’t mean she still cared for him. People had bad dreams all the time.
Sooner or later, the dreams would go away. She’d meet someone else, a man she’d really fall in love with, and until then, she had a full, rich life to lead.
Annie yipped, stood on her hind legs, and pawed at Crista’s skirt. She smiled, put the cat down, and took the puppy in her arms.
She had these two for family, she had volunteer work, and just last week, Mr. Abraham, who was the kind of guardian she should have had all along, had put his stamp of approval on the lease for a shop off Seventh Avenue with space in the back where she could design and make her jewelry, and plenty of room out front for her to display it.
The doorbell rang. Crista smiled, put Annie down on the floor, and flung open the door.
“Danny,” she said with a big smile, “I’m so glad you’re back. Give me a big kiss and…” Her hand flew to her throat. “Grant?”
“Hello, Crista.”
She stared at him while her heart thudded painfully in her breast. He looked just as she remembered him, as she’d dreamed of him, big and broad-shouldered and sternly, magnificently masculine.
“May I come in?”
Everything in her was telling her to slam the door in his face—but Annie was dancing excitedly around his legs and even Sweetness was rubbing his head against Grant’s ankle.
She, at least, could manage to be polite.
“Yes,” she said coolly, and she stepped aside and let him pass.
She shut the door and stood behind him, watching as he looked slowly around the cramped living room.
“You don’t seem to have changed anything,” he said.
She took a breath, stepped briskly around him, and made her way to the kitchen.
“No. Why would I?”
“Well, I thought, with your inheritance—”
“The money hasn’t changed me,” she said more sharply than she’d intended. “I’m still the same person I always was.”
He looked at her. She was wearing a royal blue skirt embroidered with silver stars, a long-sleeved white sweater, and a silver vest. The tiny bells he loved swayed from her earlobes.
But it was her face he looked at the longest. That beautiful face, with its violet eyes, its soft, sweet mouth, its determined chin…
“Yes,” he said quietly, and smiled, “yes, you are the same person you always were.” His smile dimmed. “But you’re thinner. You’ve lost weight, haven’t you?”
A shudder went through her. Don’t look at me like that, she thought, please, don’t…
She straightened, wrapped her arms around herself, and gave him a cold look.
“Why have you come here, Grant? If it’s some bit of legal nonsense you overlooked, I’d prefer you to take it up with Sam Abraham.”
“Are you in such a rush to get rid of me?” he said softly.
Her eyes flew to his. No, she thought, oh no, I don’t want to get rid of you. I want you to stay, I want—I want…
“I gather you’re waiting for Danny to come home.”
Crista turned quickly and took the kettle from the stove.
“I—yes,” she said, filling it with water, “that’s right. He’s—he’s out, and—and—”
“Do you love him?”
Grant’s voice was harsh, filled with the anger he felt. No, he thought, no, it wasn’t anger. It was—it was pain.
“Answer me, dammit!” His hands closed hard on her shoulders. “Do you love him, Crista?”
She closed her eyes and carefully put the kettle on the countertop.
“Go away,” she said, her voice trembling despite all her efforts to keep it cool and steady. “If you’ve any decency in you, Grant, please, go away.”
His hands tightened on her as he turned her unyielding body toward him. His hand went under her chin and tilted it up until she was looking at his face.
His eyes were so dark. And he had lost weight, too; she could see the fine, hard bones standing out under his taut skin. Crista began to tremble. She wanted to lift her hands, lay them against his cheeks, bring his mouth down to hers…
Tears rose in her eyes. Please, she thought, please, God, don’t do this to me…
But it was too late. Her lonely, aching heart was beating out the truth, telling her what she had known all along—that she loved Grant, that she adored him, and that she always would.
Grant saw the tears fill her eyes, saw her mouth begin to tremble, and his heart turned over in his chest.
“Crista?” he whispered.
“Please.” Her breath whispered on a long, indrawn sigh. “Please, just—just go away. Just—”
He took her face in his hands, bent to her, and kissed her. It was a kiss filled with tenderness, and sweetness, and all the love that had so long been walled within his heart.
“Crista,” he said, “I love you.”
Her eyes flew to his.
“If—if Danny means more to you than I do, I’ll—I’ll wish you happiness and walk out that door.” He took a deep breath. “But I can’t believe you love him, not after what we shared. I have to believe, with all my heart, that I’m the only man you want, the man you’ll spend your life with.”
The tears that shone in her eyes spilled down her cheeks.
“Oh, Grant! Grant, I love you so much!” She gave a sobbing laugh as his arms went around her. “I’ve always loved you, only you. Don’t you know that?”
“But Danny…”
“The only thing I ever shared with Danny was this apartment.”
“I don’t understand. You said—”
“You said. You said he was my lover, and I let you think it. But he’s never been anything to me but a friend.” She took a breath. “There’s never been anyone but you, Grant. You’re the first man I ever loved—the first I ever made love with.”
Grant crushed her lips beneath his. After a long time, he lifted his head.
“Crista, sweetheart, can you ever forgive me? I think I must have fallen in love with you the minute I saw you—”
“The minute I ran you down, you mean.”
He smiled, and then he sighed. “I was just so afraid of letting myself feel anything that—hell, I lied to myself.” His arms tightened around her. “When you left me, I felt as if my life had drained away.”
“I’ll never leave you again,” she whispered. “Never!”
They kissed until a faint “yip” drew them apart.
“I see the shelter managed to find Annie a good home,” Grant said, laughing as he bent down and scratched the puppy’s ears.
“I hadn’t intended to keep her,” Crista said. “You’d asked me not to, and I knew how you felt about cats and dogs, and—”