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“Not at all.”
“I’d like to hit the driving range first. Maybe you can read or something while I practice. Can you be ready in half an hour?”
When she nodded, he draped his clothes over his arm and, still naked, left her bedroom.
Seconds later, Patrick shrieked in the hallway. “Warn me next time, will you, Kenneth? I don’t have my smelling salts.”
Kenny laughed and then she heard the sound of his door closing.
She sighed as she walked over to the closet. It would have been nice if he’d kissed her before he’d left.
He really was an exceptional kisser. And a wonderful lover. Considerate, unselfish, thrillingly kinky, and so beautiful naked that she wanted to cry. As a matter of fact, she thought she just might. But not because he was beautiful naked.
She sank down into the overstuffed chair and bit her bottom lip. She had only a little over a week left and she needed to remember that Kenny Traveler was for thrills, for scandal, even for memories, but not forever. Regardless of what last night had meant to her, it was merely the tiniest detour on the great golf course of his life. He’d shared his body, but nothing of what he was, and, in the future, if he remembered her at all, it would only be because she was different from his other sexual conquests.
But she would never forget. She’d carry the memory of this night to her grave, and she knew it wasn’t the orgasms she’d remember, but the intimacy, the feeling of connection. Sleeping with someone, being held so tenderly in his arms, and hearing his heart beat. Letting herself pretend, if only for a few moments, that she was joined to another.
She gazed out the window and thought how easily attachments came to most of the people she knew. But not to her. For as long as she could recall, her life had been a series of broken attachments. She remembered being six years old and standing in the doorway of Orchard House watching her parents drive away to spend eight months in Africa. They’d loved her, but not as much as they’d loved their work.
She’d tried attaching herself to teachers and house mothers. Some of them had been fond of her, but they had children of their own, or they found other jobs and moved away. Only St. Gert’s never changed. Solid, comforting, always there.
The grand old lady had been with her through both her parents’ deaths, through long holidays when she had been the only child left at the school, and then later as a teacher when she’d grown to care so much about other people’s children. St. Gert’s was the single unbroken attachment in her life.
But not for long. Soon she’d be forced to leave the beloved old pile of bricks and stone. With that tie severed, there would be no place left in the world that she could call home.
It was tempting to allow herself a few moments of self-pity, but she wouldn’t do it. No matter where her new life took her, she’d always have the satisfaction of knowing that the school lived on, that it would provide a place of shelter for other lonely girls. And, for now, she wasn’t going to think beyond the present. For a few more days, she would simply cherish every moment of this brief, physical attachment to a man who didn’t love her.
Chapter 14
Emma stood just outside the barrier around the petting zoo and watched Kenny carry Peter toward the center of the miniature barnyard. “It’s all right, Petie. That old goat’s not going to hurt you.”
Petie wasn’t buying it and he clung more tightly to Kenny’s neck.
Emma smiled. The petting zoo had been set up in the parking lot attached to a small strip mall that was celebrating its first anniversary. The buildings’ pastel-painted Wild West exteriors formed a background to a carousel, an assortment of clowns giving away balloons, and various family-friendly companies promoting their products with free food and games.
“This goat looks mighty hungry to me.” Kenny stooped down and held out a handful of feed. As the goat nudged Kenny’s legs to get to the food, Petie climbed higher on his brother’s chest. Kenny laughed and dropped the pellets. “Maybe we’d better go see the rabbits. I think they’re more your speed.”
Emma tried not to let the image of the two of them together etch itself into her heart. Spending one night with a man didn’t give her the right to start imagining that it was her child he held in his arms. Silly, desperate Emma. So hungry for love she wanted to imagine herself having a baby with a man who was completely unsuitable. Had she forgotten that she’d never fancied rogues? Her own pitifulness disgusted her. Still, truth was truth, and she couldn’t deny the obvious. She had fallen deeply into infatuation with Kenny Traveler.
Infatuation, not love, she reminded herself. They didn’t have enough in common for her to love him. But, oh, she was infatuated. She was infatuated by his humor, his easy charm, the love he displayed for his baby brother, as well as the way his quick intelligence forced her own brain to full alertness.
But she wouldn’t pretend that there wasn’t also a dangerous element to her infatuation. To the rest of the world, Kenny might appear to be nothing more than a sublimely handsome athlete with an overabundance of charm, but she knew better. He had a whole world of psychological demons haunting him.
She saw Peter’s forehead wrinkle at the baaing of the lambs, and he drew up his knees to protect himself from their nosy exploration. Kenny kissed his head and carried him out of the petting zoo toward Emma.
“I think it’s safe to say you’re not going to have a big career as a farmer, Petie boy.”
She tickled the baby’s belly. “You’re still young, aren’t you, luv? Lots of time to get used to savage animals.”
“Yeah, I swear that baby lamb looked a little bit like Hannibal Lecter around the eyes.”
“Easy for a big man like him to make fun, isn’t it?”
Peter gave her a drooly grin and poked a wet finger at her mouth. They began wandering toward a clown holding balloons. On the way, a young woman holding a clipboard approached them and smiled at Emma. “The next round of the Diaper Derby’s starting soon if you and your husband would like to enter your baby.”
A pang of embarrassment mixed uncomfortably with longing. “He’s not my—”
“What’s a Diaper Derby?” Kenny asked.
