Page 42 of A Man for Amanda
“I’ll make it work.”
“Sure you will. Can’t have something like attempted robbery and a little assault mess up all your short-term plans. Just like you can’t have someone like me messing up your long-term ones.”
“I don’t see what you’re so upset about.”
“You wouldn’t,” he said tightly. “You hear somebody in the house where they shouldn’t be, get hit in the head, but you don’t even think about calling for me. You don’t think about asking somebody for help, not even when that somebody’s in love with you.”
The tightness in her chest returned, making her voice clipped. “I was just doing what I had to do.”
“Yeah,” he agreed with a slow nod. “You go ahead and do what you have to do now. I’ll get out of your way.”
Chapter Eight
And he’d stay out of her way, Sloan promised himself. The woman had fuddled his brain long enough.
He stood out on the terrace off his bedroom, trying to enjoy the balmy May evening. He’d left The Towers as soon as it had been possible. Oh, he’d done his duty, he thought. Amanda wasn’t the only one who could do what was expected of her. With the help of Suzanna and the children, he’d decorated the newlyweds’ car. A smile plastered on his face, he’d tossed the rice. He’d even given Coco his handkerchief when her own proved inadequate for her happy tears. He’d waited with a worried Lilah until Fred had given his first groggy bark.
Then he’d gotten the hell out of there.
She didn’t need him. The fact that he hadn’t realized until now just how much he needed her to need him didn’t make it any easier. Here he was, waiting to sweep her off her feet, and she was chasing after thieves or making dates with guys named William. Well, he was through making a fool of himself over her.
She had a job to do, and so did he. She had a life to live, and so did he. It was time he put things back in perspective. A man had to be crazy to think about saddling himself with an ornery, my-way-or-nothing female. A sane man wanted a nice, calm woman who’d give him some peace after a long day, not one who riled him up every time he took a breath.
So, he’d put Amanda Calhoun out of his mind and be a happier man for it.
“Sloan.”
With one hand still braced on the railing, he turned. She was in the doorway, her fingers linked tight together. She’d changed the silk dress for a crisp cotton blouse and slacks. Very streamlined, very simple and certainly not sexy enough to make his heart start jumping as it was now.
“I knocked,” she began, then with an uneasy movement of her shoulders, stepped onto the terrace. “I was afraid you wouldn’t let me in, so I got a pass key.”
“Isn’t that against the rules?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t talk to you at home. I didn’t even think I wanted to. Then after the police came and went, and everything was as close to normal as it gets, I couldn’t settle down.” She let out a long breath. Obviously he wasn’t going to say anything to make it easier. He was just going to stand there, his white dress shirt unbuttoned and pulled out of the tuxedo pants, his feet bare and his eyes watchful. “I guess I’m not comfortable with unfinished business.”
“All right.” After lighting a cigar, he leaned back on the railing. “Finish it.”
“It isn’t as simple as that.” A wayward breeze fluttered her hair. She shook it back impatiently. “I was upset and angry before—about there being someone in the house. My house. I know you were concerned and I was very abrupt with you. And after I’d calmed down some I realized you were hurt that I hadn’t asked you to help.”
He blew out smoke. “I’ll get over it.”
“It’s just that—” She broke off to pace the narrow width of the balcony. No, he wasn’t going to make it easier. “I’m used to handling things myself. I’ve always been the one who’s been able to find the logical solution, or the straightest route. It’s part of my makeup. When something needs to be done, I do it. I have to, I guess. It’s not as though I don’t ever want help. It’s just... it’s just that I’m more used to being asked for it, than asking for it myself.”
“One of the things I admire about you, Amanda, is the way you get things done.” His eyes stayed on hers as he took a long, contemplative drag. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re going to do about me?”
“I don’t know what to do.” When her voice rose, she struggled to calm it and started moving again. “I don’t like that. I always know what to do if I reason it out long enough. But no matter how much I think it all through, I can’t find an answer.”
“Maybe that’s because two and two don’t always make four.”
“But they should,” she insisted. “They always have for me. All I know is that you make me feel... different than I’ve ever felt before. It scares me.” When she whirled back, her eyes were wide and dark with anger. “I know it’s easy for you, but not for me.”
“Easy for me?” he repeated. “You think this is easy for me?” In two furious motions, he tossed the cigar onto the terrace and ground it out. “I’ve been on slow burn since the minute I laid eyes on you. That isn’t easy on a man, Amanda, believe me.”
Because she found it hard to breathe, her voice came out in a whisper. “No one’s ever wanted me the way you do. That frightens me.” She pressed her lips together. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. That terrifies me.”
He reached out to snag her hand by the wrist. “Don’t expect to say that to me, or look at me the way you look right now, then ask me to let you go.”
While panic and excitement warred inside her, she shook her head. “That’s not what I’m asking.”
