Page 70 of Irish Rose
When he didn’t take her hand, she curled her fingers into her palm but made herself take the final step. “There’s more to living than horses and the next race.”
Involuntarily he reached up to touch her hair. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“I’ve been waiting for you.” She brought a hand to his cheek as she rose on her toes to kiss him. “I’ve missed you. Missed being alone with you. Come to bed, Burke. Make love with me.”
“I haven’t finished downstairs.”
“It can wait.” Smiling, she began to unbutton his shirt. She was sure, almost sure, that she felt his response, his need. “We haven’t had an evening alone in a long time.”
It only took the feel of her bandages rubbing against his skin. “I’m sorry. I only came up to see if you were all right. You should get some rest.”
The rejection stung her, and she stepped back even as he did. “You don’t want me anymore, do you?”
Not want her? He was nearly eaten up with wanting. “I want you to take care of yourself, that’s all. You’ve been through a lot of strain.”
“Aye, and you. That’s why we need some time together.”
He touched his fingers lightly to her cheek. “Get some sleep.”
She stared at the closed door before turning away blindly to blow out the candles.
Erin closed herself in the office and buried herself in columns of figures. Those, at least, she could understand. With numbers, when you added two and two, you could be assured of a logical answer. Life, she’d discovered, and Burke in particular, wasn’t quite that simple.
When the call came from Travis that Dee was in labor, she found herself not only pleased for her cousin but for herself and the diversion. Scribbling a hasty note, she left it on her desk. If Burke bothered to look for her, he’d find it. If he didn’t... then it didn’t matter where she was.
She’d learned something else about marriage. Both husband and wife should stand on their own. In the best of worlds this was offset by an interdependence—a sharing, a love of each other and a contentment in each other’s company. In the not-so-best, it simply meant survival. She was and always had been a survivor.
Still, she watched the house retreat as she drove toward the main road. Such a special place it was, the kind she’d always dreamed of living in. The grass was green now, and the flowers were in bloom. It was hard to believe she could finally have something so beautiful and still be unhappy. But it could be so much more than a place to live, she thought, just as her marriage could be so much more than an agreement between two logical adults. In time, Burke would have to decide how much more he would permit it to be.
He was dealing with his own devils when he came into the house. All morning and half the afternoon he’d been unable to erase from his mind how lovely Erin had looked the night before, how hard it had been to walk away from her and from his own feelings. He was no longer sure he was doing her a favor, and he knew for a fact he was killing himself.
Maybe the time had come for them to talk. Plain words, plain thinking. He didn’t believe himself capable of much else. It hadn’t taken him long to realize he was useless without her. How that had come to be, and why, didn’t seem to matter. It simply was. But nagging at him, gnawing at him, was the question of what she would be without him. He’d never given her a chance to find out.
So they’d face off. That was something he understood. Now was as good a time as any.
He glanced in her office and, finding it empty, passed it by. In the atrium, Rosa was watering geraniums. He paused there, wishing he didn’t continually find himself uncomfortable when he caught her going about her household duties.
“Rosa, is Erin upstairs?”
Rosa glanced up but continued her watering. “Theseñorawent out a few hours ago.”
“Out?” The panic was absurd. So he told himself even as it choked him. “Where?”
“She didn’t tell me.”
“Did she take her car?”
“I believe so.” When he swore and turned away, Rosa moved to a pot of asters. “Burke?”
“Yes?”
She smiled a little and set down her watering can. “You have little more patience now than you did when you were ten.”
“I don’t want her left alone.”
“Yet you do so continually.” She lifted her brow at his look. “It’s difficult to pretend not to see what’s under my nose. Your wife’s unhappy. So are you.”
“Erin’s fine. And so am I.”
