Nanny and the Professor (14 page)

She nodded. "Yes, it's settled. Eric will be very happy." She smiled before adding a whispered, "Thank you for the offer."

"You're welcome," he said in that deep, liquid voice of his. Then his smile broadened.

She realized at that moment that the tension knotting her stomach had eased, and she knew he was working hard at getting her to relax.

It wasn't as though her attraction for him had abated. Oh, no. The pale gray suit he wore accentuated his tanned complexion. His pristine white shirt was a perfect backdrop for the magenta geometric shapes on his tie. The scent of him was enough to make her feel dizzy. Her desire to be touched and kissed by him burned like a bright, hot fire deep down inside her. And she could easily read a mirrored craving in his eyes, but at the same time she could see that he intended to hold his urges at bay. She suspected he'd decided to do so out of respect for her wishes to keep their relationship on a purely professional basis, and she was thankful for his consideration.

Since he seemed determined to contain his ardent feelings, and he also emanated a friendly openheartedness, she thought it might be a good time to further broach the subject of Andy's restrictions.

"Joshua..." she began slowly
. "
Can we talk a little bit more about the list?"

He touched the tip of his finger to his bottom lip, obviously assessing her and the idea of discussing a topic about which he was quite adamant. She was surprised by her lack of anxiety. She would have thought she'd have been scared witless to bring up the restrictions. Whether it was the beautiful moonlight, the calm night air, or just his amiable manner, she didn't know, but something about tonight helped her to remain calm and collected in the face of what might very well turn into an argument.

Finally he nodded and said, "Sure, we can talk about the list."

So there, under the oak tree, with moonlight fingering through the leafy branches, Cassie pleaded Andy's case. She told him how his son wanted so badly to run and play like other children, how Andy had astutely asked if what he'd heard was true, that children sometimes did grow out of their allergy problems.

"He wants to learn how to punt a football. He wants to challenge Eric to a race," she passionately explained. "He wants to climb trees. Joshua, Andy wants, with all his heart, to be a normal eight-year-old boy."

"But he's not a normal eight-year-old," Joshua pointedly observed.

"I know that. Andy knows that, too. We understand there must be restrictions." She braced herself,
then
looked directly into his eyes. "All he's asking is that the restrictions be... necessary."

"Necessary?" His gaze glinted with a sudden affront. "I can understand how you'd think I'm coddling my son. But every single one of those rules is necessary."

She was amazed that his glare didn't make her want to back down one bit. This needed to be said. "I'm not saying there should be no rules. What I'm trying to explain is that Andy's restrictions should be for Andy's benefit. Not yours."

His jaw muscle tensed.

She took his hand from where it rested on her shoulder and held it between both of hers. "Joshua, please don't be angry. I'm only trying to tell you something that Andy hasn't been able to. He loves you and he's afraid he'll disappoint you."

"Disappoint me?" His frown creased the skin directly between his eyes. "He could never disappoint me."

"He doesn't want you to be angry with him," she tried to explain further. "But he does want his life to change. Even a small change will be for the better. Right now he feels… well, he feels like a prisoner."

Joshua slipped his hand from hers and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He bowed his head, and Cassie knew he was digesting all that she had told him.

Finally, he heaved a sigh and stared out across the yard. "I thought I was protecting Andrew. But maybe I have been overdoing it."

She knew this was a momentous admission for him, so she reached out and placed her hand on his jacket sleeve, but remained silent.

"I do have good reason for being cautious." Joshua's quiet timbre was full of emotion. "You see, I… I let my wife die. There were signs. Signs I failed to see.
Elizabeth
died because I failed to protect her."

Cassie's heart swelled painfully with compassion. "Joshua, I don't know what happened to
Elizabeth
. But I've seen you with Andy.
And Eric."
And me, she thought, but prudently left that out. "You're a kind and caring man. I can't believe you would stand by and not do everything in your power to help your wife."

"I did nothing!" His voice turned suddenly and savagely self-critical. "I should have realized that a bottle of pain relieving tablets doesn't just disappear in a week. I should have realized something was wrong with her. She was hurting.
In pain.
And I did nothing."

"
A whole bottle…?
" Cassie could hear her own surprise and shock. "Did you ask her about it?"

"She told me she was having tension headaches," he said. "She assured me it was only stress. And the next time I asked, she put me off with some ridiculous story about having spilled the bottle of pills into the sink. A story I fell for. I was stupid–"

"Don't say that. It sounds as though
Elizabeth
was trying to protect you," Cassie offered. "Maybe she didn't want you to worry."

"No, she didn't want me to worry," he said. "But less than a week later the tumor in her brain caused her to have a seizure. She was driving at the time. The car went out of control and smashed into a tree." He hesitated a moment before adding, "She died instantly."

"Oh, Joshua," she said, sliding to the edge of the bench. Once again she reached out and took his hand between both of hers. "I'm so sorry."

"The damnedest thing is," he whispered hoarsely, "the tumor was operable. If I had gotten Liz to a doctor, her life could have been saved."

"How in the world did you find that out?"

"There was a routine autopsy." He shrugged. "And I requested a copy of the report."

Cassie didn't know what to say. The guilt he was living with was immense.

He turned his head to gaze at her. "So, now do you understand why I must protect Andrew?"

She wanted to take him in her arms. To soothe his pain and assuage the self-reproach he'd heaped upon himself like a heavy burden.

"Joshua, you didn't know that a tumor was growing in your wife's head," she said quietly. "If you had, you would have done everything you could for her." She squeezed his hand. "Andy isn't going to die." Then she corrected, "Well, he will... one day. We all have to die, of course. But trying to protect Andy from everything will only... smother the life out of him."

He leaned back to rest against the ornate wrought-iron seat and rubbed his free hand across his jaw.

"I don't know, Cassie," he said. "I just don't know."

"Andy has his whole life ahead of him," she persisted. "He has to be allowed to find out what things he can do and what things he can't. You need to let him explore his world." She shifted her weight. "He can start slow. He knows there are very specific things he must stay away from.
Eggs and wheat.
Cut grass.
But with regard to physical exercise, playing and running and jumping, he needs to find out how much is too much."

He didn't speak, only looked at her with an intensity that told her he didn't like the ideas she was offering.

"Have I overstepped my bounds?" she asked.

For a long time she thought he wasn't going to answer. But then he shook his head.

"No," he said. "I realize that you're only concerned for Andrew. And I appreciate that." He inhaled slowly and withdrew his hand from hers. "And deep down inside, I know you're right. I don't like it. But everything you've said is true."

She felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment, but she only let a tiny smile of triumph touch her lips.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow," he said.

Her smile broadened. "He'll be so happy he'll be doing somersaults."

Joshua arched a brow at her choice of words and she laughed.

"Okay, okay," she told him. "Maybe not somersaults.
Just yet, anyway."

She scooted back and stretched her bare feet out in front of her, reveling in a deep sense of satisfaction that seemed to swell inside her as though the emotion were warm water and she a dry sponge.

"Cassie?"

"Hmm?"

"Let's talk about what you're afraid of."

She thought her heart would stop beating right then.
"Afraid?" she asked, fervently hoping her quavery tone didn't expose her feigned innocence.
"What do I have to be afraid of?"

"Oh, Cassie, come on. We're both intelligent people."

She knew very well to what he was referring, just as well as she knew he was staring at her in the dark, but she refused to acknowledge the subject he broached or his steady gaze.

"It's late, Joshua," she said, darting a cursory glance at her watch. "I should go in."

His quelling hand on her wrist stopped her attempt to rise. The heat of him was like heaven.

"Cassie."

Steeling herself, she lifted her face to gaze at him. His dark eyes held a mixture of gentleness and entreaty that melted away her reserve.

"Please," he said, "talk to me."

"Joshua, I don't know what you want me to say. I don't know what you want from me–"

"Just talk to me," he said. "Is that too much to ask? Stop hiding from me. Spend some time with me. That's all I ask. Give this... spark... or attraction... or whatever it is we're feeling a chance. You know you feel it. It's right there.
Glaring and bold.
More flagrant than that big, fat moon up in the sky."

Yes, she felt it all right. And she hated this fear that gripped her so tightly– this fear that battled fiercely with her desire to be with him, to talk to him, to listen to him.

Slowly she turned to him, knowing she must respond, yet scared witless that she'd reveal too much. Silently she sent a quick prayer heavenward for the strength to tell him how she was feeling and for the control that would keep her from going too far.

"Joshua..." She hesitated long enough to take a deep breath. "I told you before that I can't deny that there's something there. Between us, I mean."

She felt flustered, all hot and cold at the same time, sitting here in the romantic moonlight under a canopy of brilliant stars. How could she admit in one breath that she felt something for him and then turn right around and tell him she had no intention of responding to those feelings? She didn't know, but she had to do it. She just had to.

"I simply can't... allow myself to react to it."

His eyes were so intense they nearly swallowed her up.

"But
why
?" he asked. "Tell me why you don't want to–"

"I didn't say I didn't want to." Heat suffused her face as she made the impetuous statement. "I said," she went on, her voice barely a whisper, "that I
can't
. I do have some natural... urges... where you're concerned. But that doesn't mean I have to give in to them."

It was his turn to hesitate. Then he once again asked simply, "Why?"

"You know why." She didn't trust herself to say anything more, so she merely sat there and silently watched him watching her.