A Daring Vow (Vows) (12 page)

“Honey, it had everything to do with you. It’s been eating away at Taylor for ten years the way he mistreated you back then, whether he wants to admit it or not. He still loves you. Always did. Always will.”

Zelda shrugged. “I wish I could believe that, but I don’t think so. I think he considers Sunday’s act the ultimate apology. My guess is that he’d be perfectly happy if I skedaddled out of town so he wouldn’t have to take another stance like that.”

“I’m not sure who you’re selling short here, yourself or Taylor. You’re a woman any man would be proud to marry. And Taylor might have been a little misguided once upon a time, but he’s a decent, honorable man, to say nothing of being a certified hunk who’s aged like vintage wine.”

“I’m not selling either of us short. I’ve developed a fair amount of self-confidence over the past ten years. And nobody ever knew Taylor’s attributes better than I. They’ve kept me awake more nights than I care to admit to.”

“Then what are you worrying about? It’s just a matter of time before you all work things out. Some things in life are just meant to go together. Ham and eggs. Coffee and cream. You and Taylor.”

Zelda regarded her wryly. “Do you know how many people no longer eat ham
and
eggs? Do you know how many take their coffee black? I think you’ve overestimated the certainties in life.”

“Give it time, hon.”

Zelda shook her head. “No. He flat-out told me not to read anything into what he did. What’s past is past. We have no present and no future. He was adamant about that,” she said, turning away so Sarah Lynn wouldn’t see the tears that automatically sprang up as she repeated Taylor’s words. She rubbed at her eyes with the backs of her paint-spattered fists, probably leaving streaks of raspberry down her face so she looked like a sad-faced clown.

Sarah Lynn uttered an unladylike sniff of derision. “Sounds an awful lot like a fool who’s protesting too much. Did you believe him?”

“He wants me to,” Zelda said firmly.

“Did you believe him?” Sarah Lynn repeated.

Zelda scowled at her. “I’m painting this damned house, aren’t I?”

Sarah Lynn nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Just remember that sometimes a woman knows what’s good for a man a lot sooner than he recognizes it. With Taylor, there’s a whole lot of history to overcome.”

“He says that’s behind us.”

“I’m not talking about your history with him, hon. Hell, one of these days he’ll see that you were the best thing that ever happened to him. It’s his marriage he has to get beyond. No one around here knows all the details, but Maribeth’s death left Taylor with a lot of pain and bitterness. He’s not over it yet.”

“I’m not sure I want to get into a competition with the ghost of the undying love of his life.”

“I don’t think that’s something you need to worry yourself about. To my knowledge, you’re the first and only woman ever to get a rise out of him, including that so-called society woman he married. Taylor’s a calendar-worthy hunk. A lot of women have tried to comfort him or straight-out seduce him, before, during and after his marriage. Since his wife’s death, none have succeeded, so far as I know. He’s always polite, but disinterested. He needs you, hon, needs you to put some joy back into his life. Maybe even more than you need him.”

With that enigmatic declaration, Sarah Lynn hefted herself out of the rocker and headed for home. After she was gone, Zelda tried desperately to convince herself that Sarah Lynn was right, that staying in Port William and fighting for Taylor wasn’t going to be the costliest mistake of her life.

Whether it was or it wasn’t didn’t seem to matter in the end. She might not have admitted it to Sarah Lynn, but she was staying for as long as it took and that was that.

* * *

Taylor studied the calendar on his desk and tried not to count backward to the first day Zelda had come to work for him. He didn’t need to finish to know that she’d been there one month. Four weeks. All she’d committed to. It wouldn’t surprise him to discover that she’d flown back to Los Angeles over the weekend. No one in Port William, least of all him, had exactly made her feel welcome. In fact, it would take a tough hide to withstand the insults his father alone had uttered.

One thing that Taylor knew, though few others did, was that Zelda’s very attractive hide barely protected her vulnerabilities. She might have a smart mouth and daring ways, but underneath it all she still bore all the hurts of a kid who’d only wanted to fit in and somehow never had.

But if Ella Louise’s eccentricities had caused her pain, they had also given her strength. No one would ever see Zelda Lane looking defeated; no one would ever guess how difficult things had been for her.

Except Taylor. And he had only made things worse. Damn, a man could hate himself for a mistake like that.

He glanced at his watch, then at the door. It was five before eight. Zelda was always at her desk on the dot of eight o’clock. Other people in Port William might be lax about opening and closing their offices, but she was always prompt. He watched the sweep of his second hand as it went around once, then twice, then a third time. To his deep regret, his heart seemed to thud with anxiety. What if she had gone? How would he feel about that?

The quiet opening and closing of the outside door kept him from having to be honest with himself. Even so, he couldn’t deny the relief that washed over him as he heard her call out.

“Taylor, are you here already?” She poked her head into his office, obviously startled to find him behind his desk rather than at Sarah Lynn’s where he could usually be found until eight-thirty, sometimes nine.

“Thought I’d get an early start today,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you’d be in.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she inquired.

“The month is up,” he reminded her, “and we didn’t discuss how you felt about staying on.”

She grinned in a way that made his blood pump harder. It was a smug, savvy look that told him she knew things that he didn’t, like maybe the feelings he hadn’t wanted to admit to. She’d had that same look on her face the night they’d made love for the first time, within minutes of his firm vow that he would not, under any circumstances, touch her. She had a way of testing a man’s resolve.

“Taylor, you’re not shy about expressing your likes and dislikes,” she said. “I figured if you weren’t satisfied with my work, you’d have fired me before now, deal or no deal. As for me, if I’d intended to quit, I’d have told you.”

“So you’re staying on?” he said, trying not to sound too concerned about the answer.

“Looks that way,” she said cheerfully. “Any problem with that?”

There was a daring glint in her eyes that worried him, but he wasn’t about to question her motives. She was staying and, for the moment, God help him, that was enough.

“There is one thing I ought to warn you about, though,” he said. “My father’s coming by this morning. He insisted on meeting here, rather than out at the house.”

He considered suggesting she might want to take the morning to go over to Caitlin’s school, maybe take his daughter on that shopping spree, but something in her instantly forbidding expression told him he ought to keep that idea to himself.

“Should I send him straight in when he arrives?” she inquired in a crisp, all-business tone she’d probably acquired working for that fancy divorce lawyer in L.A.

Since she obviously considered herself equal to the task of sending his father anywhere, Taylor decided not to question how she intended to pull that off. “That would be fine.”

“Will you need me to take notes?”

Taylor almost grinned at the thought of his father’s reaction to having Zelda sit in on their private discussion. He decided not to press his luck. “I think I can handle it.”

“You’re the boss.”

She said it so agreeably, Taylor couldn’t quite figure out why he thought the tables in the office had been deftly turned and that Zelda Lane was definitely the one in charge.

The same thought struck him again later—along with astonishment and admiration—as he heard her cheerfully greet his father as if he were any other client dropping by for an appointment.

“Taylor’s waiting for you,” she said. “Go right on in and I’ll bring along a cup of coffee. How would you like it? Black? Cream and sugar?”

Taylor’s anxiety rose when he couldn’t hear his father’s reply. Had he had a heart attack at discovering that Zelda was working for his son? Surely he’d heard about that, though Taylor had skirted any mention of it himself. Perhaps he was busy strangling her, Taylor thought, and strode across his office, prepared to intercede.

He discovered his father staring at Zelda with open-mouthed astonishment. He couldn’t really blame him. She did look like a different woman in that trim, navy blue power suit with its expensive gold trim. She’d even taken time in the past half hour to twist her auburn hair into some sort of severe style he’d never seen her wear before.

Taylor took an immediate dislike to the prim style. He had an almost irresistible urge to yank out every one of the pins holding it until it tumbled free again into the sexy style he preferred. As for the suits, he was getting sick of those, as well. He liked her better in bright colors and slinky fabrics, material that clung and molded and tempted.

Still, he couldn’t help admiring her for trying to create a professional image that even her most judgmental critic couldn’t quarrel with. Unfortunately, Beau didn’t seem too receptive to the changes.

“Dad?” Taylor said softly.

His father pivoted slowly in his direction. “Have you gone and lost your mind, son?” He didn’t bother to lower his voice when he said it.

Taylor saw Zelda’s hands clench, even though her expression remained unwaveringly calm. Anger and resentment cut into him at his father’s deliberate rudeness.

“Why is this woman here?” his father demanded.

“She works for me, and I’m damned lucky to have her,” Taylor said coldly, moving a protective step closer to the woman in question. “Now, did you want to discuss some business with me, or did you drop in to try and tell me how to run my office? If so, you can leave now.”

Apparently his father heard the finality in his tone, because his shoulders sagged in defeat. “I’ll never understand you, boy,” he said wearily. “You’d think you’d have learned something after that lunatic wife of yours all but ruined you and your chances at being elected anything but dogcatcher in this state.”

At the harsh mention of Maribeth, a cold fury washed through Taylor. “Dad, that’s enough! I think maybe we’d better get together some other time. Better yet, maybe you ought to take your legal affairs over to a lawyer in Charleston. I’m sure you can find one there who’d meet your high moral standards. I’m sick to death of trying.”

With the bitter words still hanging heavily in the air, Taylor whirled and went back into his office, slamming the door behind him. A moment later the outer door slammed shut, practically shaking the whole structure. Then, as he’d expected, Zelda was in the doorway.

“What was that all about?” she asked quietly.

“That was something that’s been building up for a lifetime. I’m sorry you had to witness it.”

“You hurt him, you know.”

He regarded her wryly. “That’s a twist, you feeling sorry for my father.”

She shrugged. “Surprised the hell out of me, too. But the look in his eyes… Taylor, whatever he’s done, it’s only because he wanted what was best for you.”

“You know how that road to hell got paved.”

“With good intentions. Look, I’ve always been an easy target for Beau’s frustration and, believe me, I haven’t liked it, but I never doubted his love for you. Some people just don’t recognize that sometimes loving means letting go, letting a person make his own mistakes.”

Taylor shook his head impatiently. “Zelda, you’re only the tip of the iceberg. My father’s always wanted to control my life. He handpicked Maribeth for me. Now he blames me because the marriage didn’t turn out the way he wanted it to. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t his fault. Hell, it probably wasn’t even Maribeth’s fault.”

“What happened?”

“She died. I told you that.”

“Taylor, I can see that there’s more to it than that. Your father said the marriage ruined you and your chances at public office. Whatever happened, it’s eating away at you.”

“I don’t see any point in talking about it,” he insisted stubbornly. “It won’t change anything.”

Zelda stepped closer and propped herself on the edge of his desk so that their knees were touching. “Taylor.”

She said it with such quiet insistence that he was forced to meet her gaze or admit that he was a coward. He refused to do that. He looked into those clear turquoise eyes of hers and saw the need to understand, the compassion that was available just for the asking.

“What happened?” she prodded.

The question hovered in the air, daring him to respond. Drawn by a force he couldn’t ignore, Taylor slowly stood and reached for her. It was an instinctive, needy action, and he suspected he was going to be furious with himself a few minutes from now. He told himself he didn’t need the compassion or the understanding, but he wouldn’t deny the need for Zelda. It had always been a part of him, like the unruly curl of his hair or the beating of his heart.

As he pulled her into the circle of his embrace, one hand moved instinctively to her hair, seeking the pins and withdrawing them one by one. As they dropped to the floor, curls tumbled loose to skim her shoulders and flow like silk over his fingers. Some mysterious, seductive scent was released, as well, surrounding them.

“Your hair’s so soft,” he told her, his voice a husky whisper. “Don’t ever pin it up like that again.”

“I wanted to look professional for your father.”

“Not necessary.” He heard the catch in her breath as he skimmed her cheek with his fingers, reveled in the quick little flutter of her pulse. “You could ditch the prim little suits, too.”

A flash of mischief sparked in her eyes. “Now?” she said, reaching immediately for the top button of her jacket.

A groan sprang loose from deep inside him. He’d forgotten just how quick she was to respond to any sort of dare. Or maybe he hadn’t.