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Chapter Fourteen
Zane tipped her face up and covered her mouth with his. “Don’t tease me like this, Winifred,” he said against her lips. “You’re not Darla Bledsoe.”
She opened her eyes. “Does she tease you?”
He pressed his mouth to her forehead. “Not like this, dammit. Winifred, are you even aware of what you’re doing?”
“No. Yes,” she amended. “I didn’t know this was teasing,” she murmured.
“What the hell did you think it was?”
She didn’t answer, just held on to him. He could feel her heart beating against his bare chest.
“What?” he repeated.
“I guess I just like getting under your skin, Zane,” she said with a soft laugh. “You can be so bossy sometimes.”
He resisted the urge to shake her until her teeth rattled. “You’re under my skin, all right. You’re under my skin day and night, especially at night. I’ve started putting in more time at the hospital to get through your visits.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “I didn’t know.”
He groaned. “How can you not know?”
“Well, yes, I did know,” she admitted after a moment. “I just didn’t want to think about it.”
He said nothing. The scent of her hair was driving him crazy. She didn’t move for a long time, and then she pulled away, gave him a wobbly smile, and met his gaze. Her eyes looked a little dazed.
“Are you hungry?”
He jerked. “What?”
“I mean, should we eat our lunch now?”
“No,” he retorted sharply. “Yes. Don’t ask any more suggestive questions like that.”
“Very well,” she breathed. “I promise.” She didn’t sound the least bit chastened, but she offered the picnic basket as if nothing was the least bit out of the ordinary.
Exasperated, he lifted it out of her hand, set it on the ground and forced her chin up to look straight into her eyes. “Winifred, I can’t go on like this.”
Her smile faded. “I am sorry, Zane. I don’t know much...actually I don’t know anything about...about...”
“About a man and a woman,” he supplied. That much was obvious. From what Celeste had told him, neither of the Von Dannen sisters had had any experience with the opposite sex.
Especially not Winifred. She was so dedicated, Celeste had said. She worked so hard and she never let herself have any fun.
That explained why his wife had been stiff and frightened on their wedding night. And maybe it explained Winifred, too. While he knew Winifred liked him, it was clear she had no idea of his deepening feelings for her.
His breath stopped. If she did know, would she bolt?
He rocked her in his arms and tried to think. Tell her. No, he couldn’t risk it.
Maybe she has already guessed? He didn’t think so, at least after he’d kissed her at the train station at the end of her second visit, her attitude toward him hadn’t seemed to change.
“Winifred, you know that I like you. I like you quite a bit, in fact.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “I know.”
“Does it...offend you?”
“You mean because you are my brother-in-law? To be truthful, I no longer think of you that way. You kissed me after the Christmas dance, remember? You said it was premature. Not wise. But not wrong.”
“And?” He held his breath waiting for her answer.
“And I believed you. It is not wrong for you to kiss me.”
Zane gritted his teeth. “What about ‘premature’ and ‘not wise’?”
“Well, yes, I think perhaps it is still not wise.”
“Because of what people might say?” Again, he held his breath.
“Oh, heavens no. I’ve never paid any attention to what people think about what I do. Kissing me is not wise because you live here in Smoke River and I live in St. Louis.
“Your career as a physician is here. Mine is at the conservatory in the East.”
“Oh,” he said, his voice flat.
“I raise a lot of eyebrows in St. Louis because I have no wish to marry. Because I have dedicated my life to music, to my students and to performing as a pianist.”
“Dammit, Winifred, you make it sound so logical, and it isn’t.”
She looked up and he saw tears shimmering on her lashes. “Zane, perhaps it is not logical, but that is the way it is. Still,” she added, her voice throaty, “that does not mean...that I do not care for you. That I do not want, well, more.”
