Dreams Don't Wait

chapter 7





Maud came back the following morning, and Evan opened the cabin door to her knock shortly before noon. "I hope I'm not intruding," she said.

Evan hugged her. "Of course not. How's your mother?"

"For now resting comfortably. Thank God, the worst seems to be over."

"I'm so glad." Evan was happy to see the worry lines eased over Maud's brow. "The coffee's fresh. Do you have time for one?"

"That would be wonderful." She followed Evan to the counter, chatting amiably about how her mother had revived almost the minute she'd arrived at the hospital.

"... not that I should be surprised," she finished. "Mother's a fighter, always has been." She paused. "But where's that handsome son of yours?"

"Not back from Mike's yet. Any minute now. I could've kept Jenny longer, you know—given you a chance to settle back in. But Linc insisted on picking her up early." And he hadn't mentioned last night, which she was super grateful for.

"He wanted to take her out for brunch." Maud looked around the newly renovated cabin for the first time. "My! What a transformation. Lincoln and Caressa did a marvelous job, didn't they?" Her gaze rested briefly on the two Waterford wineglasses sitting on the sink beside a half-full bottle of wine. Damn!

"Yes, they did. It's amazing," she replied, veering away from Maud's questioning look.

Maud went on. "I wanted to thank you for taking care of things yesterday. Linc said the party was a great success."

"Glad to hear it." She didn't want to talk about last night.

"As a way of saying thanks, Linc and I want you and Cal to come to dinner tonight."

"Thank you, but I'm still not completely settled here. I've got grocery shopping to do and clothes to get ready for work tomorrow. Maybe another time?"

Maud studied her a moment. "All right, but you'd better not tell Cal he's going to miss out on beef Stroganoff."

Evan smiled, relieved Maud didn't pressure her to accept Linc's invitation. She badly needed time away from him, time to herself. "Don't worry, I won't. Cal would never forgive me."

"Never forgive you for what?" Cal asked, stepping through the open doorway.

"Nothing," Evan lied.

Cal's gaze switched to Maud.

"It's nothing, dear. Your mother just said you both couldn't come to dinner tonight." She sighed. "So I guess I'm going to have to throw out all my beef Stroganoff."

"Are you kidding me?" Cal's eyes swung back to Evan. "Mo-om!"

Evan's mouth twitched when she looked at Maud. "Traitor."

"Will seven be all right?" Maud answered without a trace of smugness.

* * *

Linc directed his ears to Jenny and his eyes to Evan, who'd managed to avoid his gaze all through dinner. On the occasions he did catch her eye, she instantly diverted her attention to the dinner-table chatter.

She was as edgy as a park squirrel.

He considered whether or not he'd made a mistake going to the cabin last night, but decided no. He'd wanted to be with her. Badly. So he made it happen. What he wasn't sure about was telling her about Jenny. Probably not his smartest move, and not like him. Not wanting to think about it now, he turned back to the dinner conversation.

"I don't know, Cal. You've never even been on a boat before. You might get sick, you know," Evan said.

"If I get sick, I'll put my head over the side and—"

Evan raised a hand. "I get the picture. I hope you're as blasé if the real thing happens."

"So... it's okay?" Cal's look was eager.

"One week?"

Cal nodded.

"And how big is the boat, again?"

"Huge! Over forty feet. The Careys lived on it for over a year once. If you're tensed up about it, call Mike's mom."

Evan gave him a searching look. "Okay, I'll call her tomorrow—see what you need to take along."

"All right!" Cal's grin nearly split his face.

"Now how about a little galley practice?" She nodded at the dishes and started to clear.

Linc put his hand over hers. "Leave those," he said. "I want to show you something." He turned to Maud. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not. Evan did more than her share yesterday. Run along while there's still daylight."

Evan looked wary, glancing first at him, then Maud. He felt her hand tense under his.

"Go on, Evan," Maud urged. "It'll do you good to get out for a while. And I've got Cal to help me."

Cal looked at Linc, Maud, and finally his mother, with the intensity reserved for a calculus final. When he got it—whatever he perceived it to be—he smirked knowingly. "Yeah, sure. Go for it, guys. Just don't stay out too late. Like you always say, mom, morning comes early." With that he stood and started to clear the table.

Linc had to smile.

Evan's mouth held a straight line.

* * *

Evan was outside standing beside Linc's black Lexus before she knew what had happened. She might as well have been put on a conveyer belt. Even Jenny hadn't helped, bought off quickly by the promise of staying up to watch a Disney movie with Cal.

She put a hand on the hood of the car and glared at Linc. "What's going on here?"

"I want to show you something."

"And if I don't want to see it?"

"Get in the car, Evan. You can't possibly be that afraid of being alone with me."

"I'm not afraid of anything. Although it's not every day I get kidnapped."

"I'd say railroaded is more accurate. And for your information, we're going to look at a site. I've just had the go-ahead on a new waterfront hotel and convention center project." For the briefest moment, he looked uncertain. "I thought you might like to see it."

Her resolve weakened. "I would, but—"

"No buts." He opened the passenger door, gestured at her to get in. "If our timing's right, we might even catch the sunset."

She got in the car.

"You're terribly bossy, you know," she said when he'd settled into the driver's seat.

He shot her a glance. "So I'm told. But you have to agree it works."

"Simply asking me would have been just as effective."

"I doubt it. I may be bossy, but you, pretty lady, get the blue ribbon for contrariness. Probably the most stubborn... closed-off woman I've ever met. I'm guessing that's why you so seldom ask questions—afraid you might get a few in return."

She opened her mouth to deny his accusation, then sealed it, turning instead to stare out the window—and making him right in the process.

"Am I wrong?" he asked, his voice bass low.

She remained silent.

"Well... am I?" he prodded.

"We came on this little outing to see your site, not talk about me."

"True"—he smiled slightly—"and not true."

Her eyes shot to his, and he could see her tension. She was getting that park squirrel look again, except for those jade green eyes, which had turned a smoky gray; they were calm, their expression impenetrable. A shot of guilt hit him for being high-handed with her, but it was the only way he could see to bridge her defenses, although he wasn't altogether sure yet why that had become so important to him.

Because she's the best thing that's come into your life in years, Stewart—maybe ever.

He lifted a hand from the steering wheel and brushed it across her cheek. "How about you quit looking at me like I'm the big bad wolf and you're Little Red Riding Hood?"

"If the shoe fits... ," she mumbled.

Linc pulled his hand back. "So is there some law against me wanting to get to know you?"

"No law and nothing to know," she said tersely.

"We'll see. But later." He made a sweeping turn with the smooth, responsive car and pulled onto a side road. "We're nearly there. So how about we declare the site a neutral zone and resume our clash of wills later? Agreed?"

"Agreed—but only because I actually am interested in your project."

"Thank you for that." He arched a brow. "I think."

"You're welcome." She lifted her chin. "I think."

In minutes they were walking across a rutted field and through an abandoned marina. The setting sun gave an ethereal quality to the few derelict buildings standing near the waterfront. The location was spectacular, and her enthusiasm grew as Linc outlined his plan for the area with sweeping gestures and vivid descriptions. The project wasn't big, he said, but it would keep him home for several months. When the sky darkened, they headed back to the car, Linc's hand protectively on her arm as they navigated the pockmarked field, now shadowed by the lowering sun.

"And that's what you want? To be home?" she asked, stepping up to the car.

"For now. Maud needs to be here—for her mother—and it will be good for Jenny to be in one place for a while. In the past two years, we've pretty much lived like a band of Gypsies."

Evan sighed as Linc opened the car door and helped her in. He raised an eyebrow. "What was that for?" he asked, leaning one arm on the car roof and the other on the still open door.

"I was thinking."

He cocked his head. "About?"

"About being a Gypsy. Living in exotic places. Paris. London. Rome. No roots, no ties, no responsibilities. It sounds exciting... it sounds absolutely, positively wonderful." She leaned her head back on the soft leather seat back and closed her eyes, didn't open them until Linc slid into the driver's seat.

He pointed to the scene outside windshield. "Look."

The sun was half in water and half in sky, a blazing orb poised between light and dark. With one flaming finger, it ripped a trail of fire across the ocean. Night was at hand.

He slid an arm across the back of the seat and played idly with her hair, lifting, twirling, then letting it sift through his fingers. He didn't speak, made no move toward her, while they both concentrated on the setting sun. When it lost center stage and sank below the horizon, they turned as one to look at each other. That look filled the car with tension and created a silent hunger. Evan's breath filled her throat, and her heart thrummed in her ears as a surge of heat warmed her body. She was in dangerous territory.

"I think we'd better go," she stammered.

"We will," he murmured, lifting her hair to expose throat and ear.

He nuzzled the bared skin, and his heat, bone deep and drugging, swept through her.

Evan, fool that she was, didn't move, giving him tacit permission to explore, taste, arouse. He did. His mouth followed the curve of her neck, warmed the bell of her ear. His teeth nibbled her lobe.

"Your skin is so soft...." He lifted his head, and his eyes, the color of the night sky, locked on hers. He held her head between his hands. His gaze fell to her mouth, then lifted again. "There's something special going on here. Can't you feel it?" His thumbs massaged her temples.

Hypnotized by the intensity of his gaze, Evan was torn, besieged by a latent wildness, as though she were beating against bars of her own making. A whisper of restraint told her what she was doing was crazy wrong; the roar of her blood silenced it.

"Come to me. Put your arms around me." His words were a tremor against her lips.

Her eyelids fluttered closed against the coming night, and she reached for him, her hands sinking into the gold weight of his hair. Her mouth opened under his, and he moaned, pulling her hard against him.

The kiss lengthened, deepened, demanded. His tongue plied the ridge of her lower lip, then dipped inward with a slow, seductive rhythm. His scent was woodsy clean. Strongly male. Erotic. Evan breathed him in as her tongue danced and mated with his. Time and space distorted; reality shifted, disappeared as surely as the sinking sun.

There was only Linc.

His hands slid down her arms. He palmed her breast through the thin cotton of her blouse, and she pushed into his hand. He shaped it to her breast and murmured unheard words against her throat, his thumb playing across the fabric covering her hardened nipple.

More. I want more...

He started to undo the buttons on her blouse, but before he could finish, she took his hand and slid it under the fabric to rest it against the swell of her breast. His hand cupped, stroked, and caressed, and she strained for breath. When his thumb grazed her bare nipple, it was a sensual lightning strike. The immediacy of her arousal shattered her.

It had been so long. Years too long.

Abruptly, Linc tensed. "We've got to stop." His voice was low, halting.

He held her, as tight and close as the front seat of a car allowed, his body a wall against the mad spill of need coursing through her. To still her heavy breathing, she let herself rest against him. With her first normal breath came shame. Her head was buried in his shoulder, and she wondered how she'd ever lift it, how she'd ever look him in the eye again.

A sick feeling settled in her stomach. You haven't changed a bit, Evangeline North. You're the same lonely, grasping girl about to make the same tired mistake. You've learned nothing—nothing at all.

Feeling ill, she pulled away from Linc's embrace.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, trying to do up her blouse with fingers that might as well have been in splints. He brushed her hands away and finished the job. The fact that his hands still functioned normally added insult to the embarrassment of her uninhibited response.

"I'm the one who's sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to let this get so out of hand." He stroked the hair away from her forehead with a touch so delicate, her skin strained to sense it. "And I don't usually start things I can't finish. Are you all right?"

"Fine." She straightened her spine and brushed at her skirt, anything to not look at him. Damn! It should have been her who pulled back, not him. Now here he was, all gallant concern for a woman he'd aroused past endurance.

Angry, frustrated, and confused, Evan stared out the car window. She didn't know what to do or what to say.

"You're embarrassed." His tone held a trace of amazement.

She let out a harsh breath but did manage to look him in the eye. "Of course I am. I'm mortified. What just happened ranks right up there with... with the stupidest things I've ever done."

"I thought it was wonderful—you were wonderful." He shook his head. "What happened was inevitable. It's been building since the day you came to my bedroom and gave me a hard right to the jaw." He smiled. "We're going to be good together, Evan, very, very good."

Evan gave him a shocked stare. "Look, Linc, don't read more into this than a temporary lapse of control. We're not going to be anything together."

"You think not?"

"I know not," she said flatly.

"What makes you so sure?"

She gave him a level gaze. "You can't give me what I need." Her voice almost steady, she added, "You're not what I... want."

She took a dash of satisfaction from his obvious surprise. The rich, successful, handsome Lincoln Stewart was, momentarily at least, at a loss for words.

"Now can we please go home?" she asked.

"I don't think so."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Maybe." He met her stubborn gaze with one of his own. "But I'm not easily put off. Behind all that bluster, bravado, and... sexual response, there's a story. I intend to hear it. We're going to a nice quiet place I know, and you, Evangeline North, are going to tell me your life story." He turned the key in the ignition, and the car purred to life. Before putting it in gear, he slanted a glance at her. Not a question. A challenge.

Her heart banged into her ribs, and her breath thickened in her throat. She never talked about... things, about anything. The idea of talking to Linc, of lifting veils, terrified her. But maybe it was for the best. Maybe if he understood why this war of wills, or whatever it was between them, had to end, it would be for the best. Something had to be done. It might as well be now.

"Okay," she said, nodding, "if you want a life story, you'll get one."

"I want that and a whole lot more." He took his cell from his pocket. "I'm going to phone Maud. I have a feeling this is going to take a while."

* * *

In twenty minutes they were seated in a shadowy corner of a deserted bar. While Linc ordered for them, Evan excused herself and went to the ladies' room. She needed a few moments alone. Holding a moist paper towel to her face, she stared into the mirror and wondered what she was doing here, and what she was going to say.

She hadn't let another man get this close to her since she was eighteen. And since then, everything had been fine. More than fine.

She scrunched up the paper towel and added it to the trash. Maybe this idea to talk things out was a good one. Maybe when Linc understood her past, he'd be less interested in her future. With a bit more resolve, she went back to the table.

Linc sat sideways to the table, his long legs stretched out and crossed in front of him. He was nursing a brandy and surveying the bar as if he were its owner. It reminded her of the first day they'd met.

Evan fought the urge to run, then cursed him for being so irritatingly and casually attractive. It was one of the things she held against him. Wayne had been attractive... and so was Randy.

She took her seat, and his eyes riveted on her.

"I ordered you a brandy. Will that be all right?"

"Fine." She reached for the snifter and brought it slowly to her lips. Linc's gaze burned more than the fiery liquid. She took too much and coughed.

"Nervous?" he asked, taking a sip of his own drink.

"No... yes."

"Which is it?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be nervous, with you looking at me like I'm an undiscovered life-form."

"You are."

She frowned at him.

"You're mysterious, without even trying to be. You can't blame me for being curious. I want to know everything about you."

She gave him a cool stare. "Fair enough. As long as I get the same from you." She might as well satisfy her own curiosity while they played out this game of twenty questions.

He hesitated, and she watched a muscle tighten in his jaw. "Deal," he said. "What do you want to know?"

"Jenny. Let's start with Jenny."

He nodded at her, then paused as if to collect his thoughts. "My wife used me until she found someone better. When she found that someone, she got pregnant with Jenny. When that happened, the guy dumped her. She dumped on Jenny, and we left. That's about it." He took a casual sip of brandy. "Now it's your turn."

Her senses jarred by his curt words, she had a million questions. Questions he obviously didn't intend to answer. Two can play at this game.

"All right. Let's see. I got pregnant when I was barely fourteen. My mother threw me out. I lived with an aunt until I was seventeen. She died. I moved in with... a guy when I was eighteen. It didn't work and I dumped him. I've been on my own ever since—and that's the way I like it." She reached for her sweater and started to rise. "Can we go now?"

His hand shot across the table and grasped her wrist. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry," she echoed. "What for? We both said what had to be said. Anything more is unnecessary."

"I'm sorry for being an insensitive ass. I didn't mean to sound so... blasé." He stroked the underside of her wrist. "My marriage was a disaster, and while there's nothing new about that, it was my disaster. It hurt. It hurt like hell when my wife wanted another man, that she found making love with me"—he ground out the words—"a chore, nothing but a means to a better end. I wasn't used to playing the fool, but I did. I thought I loved the woman, thought marriage vows meant something. And for a time, when Moira was first pregnant, and I believed Jenny was mine, I actually thought everything would work out."

He looked away. "Not so, Moira told me. It seems getting pregnant with Jenny was only one more effort to catch a bigger fish, reach a higher social strata. If nothing else, Moira was single-minded." When his grip on her wrist loosened, Evan turned her palm up to clasp his hand.

"But you stayed, for nearly three years after Jenny was born. Why didn't you leave?"

He let out a long breath and shrugged. "You know, I can't answer that. They were the worst three years of my life—except for Jenny. For one thing, I made the world's worst celibate." He twirled his snifter idly on the table. "Maybe I still hoped we'd work things out, maybe I had something to prove, or maybe it's human nature to stay past the point of good sense. I don't know."

"Where is she now?"

"Hong Kong." He shook his head. "She landed on her feet, married some billionaire businessman, and I haven't heard from her since the divorce. Neither has Jenny."

"Amazing," she said, more to herself than to Linc.

"Amazing?" he repeated, turning her musing to a question.

"In the unbelievable sense. That she could walk away from her daughter..." She shook her head, unable to understand someone who could do that, then added, "And you. That she had you and wasn't satisfied. You're everything most women want, talented, successful, attractive—" She stopped abruptly when she realized what she was saying.

Linc half smiled, gave her a bleak look. "This from the woman who said I'm 'not what she wants'."

"Linc, don't go there." Because I'd have to say it again and it hurts—me and you.

He let go of her hands, reached in his pocket for some cash, and tossed it on the table. "Let's get out of here."

A look of intense relief washed over Evan's face. There were to be no questions.

He smiled down at her and offered his hand. "We'll have coffee at your place."

"Not a good idea. Cal will be home. It'll be awkward."

"Cal's at Mike's. He's staying the night."

They were almost out of the bar. Evan dug her heels in. "How do you know that?"

"Maud told me when I called."

"You should have told me." She gave him a murderous glare.

"I just did." He took her arm and walked her out of the bar.