rekindled(英文版)-第12章

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〃Chloe；〃　Ross　began　in　husky　chiding；　〃do　you　have　any　idea　what　it　does
to　a　man　when　a　woman　looks　at　him　that　way？〃

It　took　every　ounce　of　her　willpower　to　keep　from　lowering　her　gaze　in
curiosity。　〃I'm　sorry…〃

〃Oh；　don't　be　sorry。〃　He　came　closer。　Though　he　didn't　touch　her；　his
body　was　no　more　than　a　breath　away。

And　she　felt　it；　felt　the　need。　She　put　a　hand　to　his　chest　to　ward　it
off；　but　it　was　a　sorry　miscalculation。　Her　fingers　found　a　mat　of　soft；
dark　hair　that　sprang；　warm　and　still　moist；　from　the　freshness　of
lightly　bronzed　skin。

The　pounding　of　her　pulse　frightened　her　so　that　she　tore　her　hand　from
his　chest　and　thrust　it　behind　her　back。　She　felt　a　huge　measure　of
guilt。　If　he　did　also；　it　was　hidden　behind　desire。　His　amber　eyes
smoldered；　heating　her　all　the　more。　The　need；　ahhhh；　the　need。　The　ache
to　be　held　and　loved　　。。。　Ever　so　slowly；　Ross　lowered　his　head　until
his　lips　shadowed　hers。　She　felt　them；　wanted　them。　Her　own　parted　in
silent　invitation。　She　closed　her　eyes　to　savor　the　sensation。　But　he
never　kissed　her。　Rather；　there　was　a　soft　exchange　of　breath；　a　whisper
of　lips　against　one　another；　sweet；　sweet　torment。

Chloe　felt　ready　to　burst；　willing　to　beg。　But　that　was　a　sure　road　to
self…disgust。　So　she　finally　did　what　she　had　meant　to　do　all　along。　She
pressed　against　his　chest；　pushing　him　gently　but　firmly　away。

As　he　slowly　straightened　to　what　was；　even　barefoot；　an　awesome　height；
he　cleared　his　throat。　〃You'd　better　wait　downstairs；〃　he　said　in　a
voice　that　was　thick　and　taut。　〃I'll　finish　up　quickly。〃

She　took　his　suggestion。　By　the　time　she　reached　the　bottommost　step；
sanity　had　frilly　returned。　Swearing　softly；　she　traipsed　through　the
kitchen　and　stood　on　the　back　porch　looking　out　on　the　beach。　But　the
tide　within　her　was　high。　No　amount　of　cooling　breeze　could　stern　it。

He　had　to　leave。　It　was　as　simple　as　that。　Indifference　was　a　pipe
dream。　He　stirred　her　too　much。

Having　him　around　today　was　a　taste　of　what　it　might　be　like　to　have　him
around　all　the　time。　She　wanted　to　say　she　had　hated　it；　but　she
couldn't。　There　had　been　something　nice　about　waking　to　find　a　man　in
her　kitchen　cooking　her　breakfast；　something　nice　about　knowing　that　he
was　patiently　waiting　for　her　to　finish　work；　something　nice　about　going
marketing　with　him；　even　about　finding　him　in　her　shower。　It　had　been
nice。　But　would　any　man　fit　the　bill？

With　a　sigh；　she　shook　her　head。　It　had　to　be　Ross。　Always　Ross。

〃It's　all　yours；　princess！〃　he　called。

Chloe　looked　up　in　surprise　to　find　the　horizon　pink…orange　in　advance
of　sunset。　Back　over　her　shoulder；　Ross　stood　at　the　kitchen　door；
silhouetted　by　the　light　inside。

〃Be　right　there；〃　she　called；　looking　at　the　sunset　again；　gathering
posure。　When　she　felt　in　control；　she　returned　to　the　house。　She
caught　a　trace　of　cologne　when　she　moved　past　him；　but　moved　steadily　on
until　she　was　safe　in　her　room。

Promptly　at　eight　she　descended　the　stairs；　wearing　a　pale　blue　sheath
of　lightweight　wool　appropriate　to　the　fast…cooling　night　air。　Its　lines
were　simple；　it　was　nipped　in　at　the　waist　and　wrists；　lightly　flared　at
the　sleeves　and　skirt；　and　deeply　slashed　into　a　vee　at　the　throat。

She　worried　about　that　low　vee。　The　dress　was　simple；　but　provocative。
She　had　bought　it　the　year　before　for　one　of　those　blundered　attempts　at
a　date；　and　would　have　avoided　it　for　that　reason。　Unfortunately；　it　was
the　only　dressy　dress　in　her　wardrobe　that　was　of　recent　vintage。

In　other　respects　she　felt　confident。　Her　hair　was　brushed　to　a　fine
sheen；　swept　back　behind　either　ear；　and　held　in　place　with　buds　of　pale
blue　silk。　The　single　pearl　at　each　ear　matched　the　strand　around　her
throat。　And　her　eyes　were　luminescent。　From　her　makeup；　perhaps？

Whatever；　she　felt　like　a　porcelain　princess　descending　the　stairs。

Ross　was　clearly　pleased。　〃You　look　lovely；〃　he　said；　gently　taking　her
arm。

She　felt　suddenly　shy。　〃Where　are　we　going？〃

〃Farmington　Court。〃

She　caught　her　breath。　〃In　Newport？　How　did　you　ever　get　reservations？〃

〃Oh；　I　managed；〃　he　said　with　a　coy　grin。

Chloe's　excitement　was　genuine。　〃They've　only　had　the　dining　room　open　a
few　months。〃

〃You　haven't　eaten　there　yet；　then？　I　was　hoping　I'd　be　the　first　to
take　you。

〃You　are；〃　she　said　and　tried　to　get　a　handle　on　her　breathiness。　〃I
usually　eat　in；　remember？　No；　I　haven't　eaten　at　the　Court；　but　I've
wanted　to。　I　heard　that　the　dining　room　is　gorgeous　and　the　food
incredible。〃　She　arched　a　brow。　〃You　are　hungry；　aren't　you？〃

Ross　smiled。　〃Since　we're　dining　in　style；　I'll　try　not　to　paw　through
the　pitd。〃　He　tossed　his　head　toward　the　door。　〃Let's　go。〃

The　drive　to　the　farm　took　them　in　a　large　U；　from　one　fingertip　of
land；　back　to　the　mainland；　then　out　to　the　other　fingertip。　Their
conversation　was　light；　in　contrast　to　the　heavy　darkness　that　had
fallen。　Even　the　moon　had　disappeared　behind　gathering　clouds。

Chloe　was　vitally　aware　of　Ross。　His　strapping　presence　filled　the　car
and　her　senses；　adding　to　her　excitement。

Farmington　Court　was　on　the　outskirts　of　Newport。　Without　any　help　from
Chloe；　Ross　found　the　place　with　ease。

〃How　did　you　find　out　about　the　Court？〃　she　asked　when　the　farm　appeared
on　a　gentle　rise　ahead。　〃Not　many　people　know　about　the　dining　room
here。　Not　many　outsiders；　that　is。　It's　a　well…kept　secret。〃

His　smile　reflected　the　bright　lights　of　the　house。　〃Maybe　it's　supposed
to　be　a　secret；　but　it's　slowly　creeping　out　anyway。　I　had　a
remendation　from　a　friend　in　New　York　who's　been　here。〃　He　paused；
then　confessed；　〃I'm　not　a　total　stranger　to　Newport。　Little　pton；
yes。　Newport；　no。　I　was　here　last　summer。〃

〃You　were？〃　she　asked　cautiously。

He　nodded。　〃I　spent　several　days　here　sailing　with　friends。〃

〃I　didn't　know　you　sailed。〃

〃There's　plenty　you　don't　know　about　me。〃　With　a　flick　of　his　wrist；　he
turned　the　car　into　a　space　in　the　graveled　lot。　He　slid　from　behind　the
wheel；　rounded　the　car；　and　helped　her　out。

She　learned　something　else　about　him　when　they　passed　through　the　door
of　the　sprawling　seaside　estate。　Not　only　did　he　greet　the　maitre　d'　by
name；　but　he　spoke　in　fluent　French。　Along　with　her　Southern　accent；
Chloe　had　long　since　lost　what　little　French　she　picked　up　as　a　child　in
New　Orleans。　She　remained　silent；　enjoying　the　smooth；　romantic　sound。

Following　several　moments　of　low　conversation　during　which　both　men
seemed　equally　at　ease；　the　maitre　dishowed　Ross　and　Chloe　to　the
smallest　of　the　three　rooms　that　had　been　converted　for　public　dining。
It　was　exquisitely　decorated　in　Colonial　style；　with　a　smattering　of　the
English；　a　dab　of　the　French；　and　a　triumphant　dose　of　pure　Americana。
This　particular　room　held　only　three　tables；　each　set　for　two。　Theirs
was　in　a　far　corner；　lit　softly　by　a　candle。　It　was　an　intimate　setting；
one　Chloe　would　have　wished　to　avoid　had　she　been　thinking　clearly。

But　she　wasn't。　At　some　point　Ross　had　ceased　to　be　a　part　of　the　past。
There　was　only　the　candlelit　present。　She　looked　over　the　flickering
flame　and　met　his　gaze。

〃Do　you　like　it？〃　he　asked；　endearingly　eager。

She　smiled。　〃I　do。〃

〃I　asked　the　maitre　d'　to　bring　a　bottle　of　Chassagne　de　Montrachet。〃

If　his　fluency　in　French　amazed　her；　his　knowledge　of　fine　wines　was　no
less　astonishing。　Fine　wines　were　something　she　did　know　something
about；　a　legacy　of　her　father's　acclaimed　cellar。　Unable　to　resist；　she
grinned。　〃So　that's　how　the　Army　sedates　its　brats。　Fine　wine。　And　here
I　felt　so　sorry　for　you。　I'm　sure　the　Chassagne　de　Montrachet　will　be
superb。〃

Ross　laughed。　〃The　Army　had　nothing　to　do　with　it。　I　developed　a　taste
for　wine　after　I　left　the　Peace　Corps。　I　have　several　treasured　bottles
at　home…a　Mouton…Rothschild；　a　Chateau　Lafite…Rothschfld。　My　favorite　is
a　1959　Ceteaux　du　Layon　from　the　Loire　Valley。〃

〃Whoa。　Very　impressive。　What　other　goodies　do　you　have　up　your　sleeve？〃

His　right　hand　flew　to　his　left　cuff；　one　long　finger　making　a　pretense
of　searching。　The　search　was　forgotten　when　the　maitre　d'　reappeared；
wine　in　hand；　to　present　the　bottle　to　Ross。

While　he　studied　the　wine；　Chloe　studied　him。　It　was　a　luxury　that　the
drive　through　the　night　hadn't　offered。　Now　she　drank　in　his　good　looks
with　as　much　reverence　as　he　gave　to　his　wine。

He　looked　wonderful。　His　suit　was　the　gray…blue　tweed　she　had　seen　on　the
bed。　Same　with　his　white　shirt　and　crimson…ormavy　tie。　She　blushed　as
she　recalled　the　other　items　she'd　seen；　then　pushed　those　aside　and
focused　on　the　chiseled　features　before　her。　They　were　strong；　yet
relaxed；　and　exuded　confidence。　The　darkness　of　his　hair　and　the
sun…touched　hue　of　his　skin　contrasted　with　his　shirt　at　neck　and
wrists；　adding　a　crispness　to　his　appearance　that　was　enhanced　by　the
fine　cut　of　the　obviously　handtailored　fabric。　He　was　the　epitome　of　the
man　of　the　world…suave；　assured；　experienced；　and　content。　To　all
outward　appearances　he　held　the　world　in　his　palm。

Was　he　vulnerable　in　any　way？

〃Why　the　frown；　princess？〃　He　leaned　forward　to　exclude　the　maitre　d'；
who　worked　at　uncorking　the　wine。

〃I'm　not　frowning。〃　But　she　was。　She　felt　it。　〃I　was　wondering　。。。〃

When　the　maitre　d'　poured　a　sip　of　wine　into　Ross's　glass　and　waited；
Chloe　held　the　thought。

Ross　lifted　the　long…stemmed　goblet；　inhaled　the　scent；　took　the　pale
liquid　into　his　mouth；　patiently　let　his　taste　buds　warm　it；　finally
swallowed。　〃Excellent；〃　he　plimented　the　very　pleased　maitre　d'。
Without　further　fanfare　the　goblets；　first　Chloe's；　then　Ross's；　were
filled。

〃What　were　you　wondering？〃　Ross　asked　the　instant　they　were　alone　again。
〃Whether　you're　happy。　Are　you　content　with　your　life？〃

〃For　the　most　part。　There　are　still　things　I　want。〃　The　directness　of
his　gaze　should　have　tipped　her　off。

But　she　was　too　curious　to　see。　The　softness　of　her　voice　spread　to　her
lips；　now　moist　with　wine。　〃What　things？〃

〃You　hit　on　them　yesterday；　actually。　I　want　a　wife　and　children。〃

〃But　you've　waited　this　long。〃

〃Not　by　choice。〃

〃Then　why？〃

His　crooked　grin　did　stranger　things　inside　her　than　even　the　wine；　with
its　gentle　warming　touch。　〃I'm　not　totally　different　from　that　man　back
in　New　Orleans。　I'm　an　idealist　at　heart。　I　always　will　be。　I　have　a
certain　image　of　what　love　should　be　like。　If　I　can't　have　it　that　way；
I'd　rather　not　have　it　at　all。〃

Chloe　looked　down。　What　was　love？　What　would　she　have　wanted　from　it　had
she　allowed　it　into　her　life？　She　watched　Ross's　fingers；　curling
absently　around　his　goblet's　stern。　At　that　moment；　love　would　have
meant　reaching　out　to　touch　them；　to　thread　hers　through　them。

Burying　her　hand　in　her　lap；　she　said；　〃Tell　me　about　that　image；　Ross。
In　its　most　ideal　form；　what　should　love　be　like？〃

He　stared　at　her；　his　eyes　a　pensive　gold。　He　seemed　to　weigh　and
balance；　to　sift　through　both　sides　of　a　private　debate　as　the　quiet
sounds　of　the　restaurant　drifted　by。

Chloe　waited；　sipping　wine；　buoyed　by　it。　Her　thoughts　wandered；　but　not
in　debate。　There　was　nothing　to　debate。　Ross　Stephenson　was　even　more
appealing　than　he　had　been　in　her　memory　all　those　years。　He　was　a　man
for　today；　to　be　sipped　and　savored　like　the　wine　he　poured　into　her　now
empty　glass。

When　he　spoke；　she　was　grateful　for　the　wine's　mellowing　shield。　〃When
was　the　last　time　you　were　home？〃

〃Home？〃

〃New　Orleans。　Do　you　go　back　there　often？〃

〃No。〃　New　Orleans　was　the　past。　She　wanted　the　present。　〃What　does　that
have　to　do　with　anything？〃

〃Love。　You　asked　me　about　it。　I'm　asking　you　the　same。　You　loved　your
family　once。　Do　you　still？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃But　you　never　see　them。　Don't　you　miss　them？〃

Even　in　spite　of　the　wine；　she　grew　defensive。　〃I　do。〃

〃How　often　do　you　call　home？〃　he　asked　gently。

〃Every　so　often。〃

〃And　the　last　time　you　flew　down？〃

She　hedged。　〃It　was　a　while　ago。〃

When　he　leaned　forward　to　pursue　his　point；　she　sensed　that　he　really
and　truly　cared。　〃Why；　Chloe？　What　does　love　mean　to　you　that　you　can
ignore　those　same　people　who　worry　themselves　sick　about　you？　That　can't
be　what　love　is　about。〃

〃We're　talking　about　different　kinds　of　love。　One　kind　you're　born　into；
the　other　you　choose。〃

〃The　end　result　is　the　same。　Once　a　man　and　a　woman　make　that　mitment
and　marry；　they　face　the　same　kinds　of　trials　that　your　family　faced。
You've　run　away…〃

〃Don't。〃　She　clamped　a　hand　on　his　arm。　〃Please　don't；　Ross。　I　don't
want　to　talk　about　this。〃

His　voice　gentled。　〃You　have　to　talk　about　it　sometime。　There　are　so
many　things　you've　refused　to　face；　about　yourself；　about　your　family…〃

〃Not　tonight；〃　she　insisted　softly。　She　let　her　eyes　plead；　only　because
her　voice　kept　its　dignity。　〃I　want　to　enjoy　myself　tonight。　Please？〃

Ross　stared　first　at　her；　then　at　the　tablecloth；　then　at　the　far　wall。
When　his　gaze　finally　returned　she　saw　a　glint　of　humor。　〃When　you　look
at　me　like　that；　I'd　do　anything！〃

〃Anything？〃　She　clutched　at　that。

〃Anything。〃

〃Then　tell　me　about　the　Picasso　exhibit。　You　saw　it　when　it　was　in　New
York；　didn't　you？　Was　it　as　spectacular　as　the　reviews　claimed？〃

〃Every　bit。〃