A Loving Man (12 page)

“Mmm.” Stefan scanned the small, comfortable café. He smiled at Danny and gave him a thumbs-up sign. After a warning frown, Danny shifted his three-hundred-pound bulk back into the shadows of the kitchen. Locals were enjoying familiar fare, dining and talking and sliding searching glances at Rose and himself.

Rose’s foot came up to nudge him. “Stefan. Doesn’t it bother you that they’re looking at us, and what they must be thinking?”

He captured that slender foot, and surprised himself by grinning and slipping off her shoe. Her eyes darkened im
mediately when he caressed her foot, bringing it to his lap. Her eyes widened, her hand trembled and her water glass spilled. She hurriedly plucked napkins and covered the ice. Her smile at the waitress who came to clean away the mess was shaky. “Nice touch, Donatien,” sixty-year-old Suzie murmured with a wink. “You can do my feet anytime.”

“I am certain they are quite lovely.”

“Stefan!”
Rose said in a hushed tone after Suzie left with a knowing giggle. “You can’t just do things like that.”

He released her foot and took her hand, toying with it. “I would like to have you for dessert,” he said quietly and enjoyed her rising blush. “No one eats pie like you, sliding it from the tip of your fork into your mouth. Closing your eyes as you take the pleasure into you—”

Rose blinked and her mouth parted and moved as if she were trying to speak and couldn’t. She swallowed finally and managed unevenly, “I’ve got plans for tonight. And you’re not them. I’m going to take a long bath and read updates on the paint catalogs and—”

“I held a faerie in my arms last night,” Stefan heard himself say quietly. “I would very much like to hold her now and taste the unique flavor of her desire—”

Rose’s delicate shudder said his statement had had the impact he’d sought and meant. “I think we should leave,” she said breathlessly. “People are staring and you can’t talk like that here.”

“So proper,” he teased, enjoying himself, feeling very young and carefree and reckless. “What did you come to see me about last night? Before we were…distracted?”

“I forget. But I remember it wasn’t good. You’ve got to go home now, and I’ve got to go to my house, before…you know,” she said urgently as she watched him bring her palm to his lips to kiss the center.

“Why?”

“You know,”
she said more urgently.

“Can’t you be trusted?” He almost released his laughter, the joy warming him. He wondered when he had enjoyed life so freely and the answer came back—never.

“Not with you,” she answered as if the words were dragged out of her. The admission was enough to soothe whatever doubts Stefan had about her attraction to him. Flirtation was new to him and he reveled in his success.

“You’re leering. Men do not leer or look steamy and all revved up at me. It has to do with my low sexuality,” Rose said darkly as she stood, holding her bouquet close to her.

“That has been disproved quite efficiently, I believe,” Stefan returned and watched her rising blush. Then because nothing else would do, and because Stefan had definite delicious proof that he wasn’t in Rose’s “bud bin,” he swept her into his arms. He bent her back, crushing the flowers between them and kissed her as his hunger demanded.

A half hour later, Rose broke her silence with a curt, “When they started cheering, you didn’t have to take a bow. Arrogant, full of yourself, crappie-catching, lip nibbling— The next thing you know, they’ll be watching
us
instead of television soaps.”

He studied how sweet she looked, framed in the cab of his old beloved pickup. “You’re quite enchanting when you’re in a snit.”

“I don’t do ‘snits.”’ She bashed him with the bouquet and petals flew fragrantly into the air, reminding him of the scent of her body.

She studied him, silence within his pickup quivering louder than the evening crickets and frogs along the lake. “You’re all warmed up right now, aren’t you?”

“Did you think last night was all there was between us?” He carefully took the battered bouquet from her and placed it on his dashboard. Rose inhaled sharply, and his gaze jerked down to the nipples pushed against her T-shirt. “Yes, I want you,” he admitted, his mouth aching to taste her.

“Men don’t usually come back for a second helping.”

Stefan brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers. He studied her before stating gently, “You are not an experienced woman. Your body says more than your words.”

She shivered, closing her eyes. “Just once. I gave myself to that stupid idiot because I thought that would make everything right. It didn’t. It hurt and he fell asleep right away.”

Stefan wished he could see Mike once more—the mechanic needed lessons in consideration. Stefan had little time for anger in his life, plowing through it with schedules and demands, but now it flamed inside him. “You’re right. He was an idiot. Not worth a moment’s thought. Discard the incident. It never happened.”

“You think so?”

“Erase it. You should know how attractive and desirable you are. How natural and sweet and feminine. You’re a perfect jewel, a dewdrop on the soft petal of a rose. Only a fool would let you slip away.” Stefan wanted to give her more than the truth in his words, but they were the best he could manage without getting into his rigid-emotional mode. He put his arm around her and drew her close to him, nuzzling her hair. He smiled softly into it—he felt as if all the pieces in his life were placed together at the moment—a man, his beloved pickup, his love sitting close to him in the night while the moon rose over the
lake. Its silvery trail slid amid the lilies where the faeries slept curled and safe.

Then Rose lifted her face, studied him and placed her hand along his cheek to draw him down for a short, light kiss. “You’re basically a nice man, Stefan. I don’t regret making love with you.”

“No?” he managed to say as he reveled in the sense that Rose thought well of him. “I thought it was an especially nice occurrence.”

She laughed knowingly then, an enchanting, husky laughter that was more like music. The next thing Stefan realized after a clumsy scuffle on the front seat, in which his tall body demanded that the door be opened, while his hand found Rose’s breast, was that he was lying beneath her. “You’re an unusual man, Stefan Donatien. You try very hard to smooth the rough edges of life. I heard how you donated money for the school’s playground and for the town library, and how you’ve been helping the elderly whose pensions don’t meet their medical expenses. Yvette asked me to suggest names and said that she was acting on your orders, paying bills they couldn’t. You’ve got a good heart, too,” she noted raggedly before she came down upon him in a storm of quick, hungry kisses.

Dazed and floating in pleasure, Stefan forgot notions of a proper bed and how respectable lovers acted who were his age. His hands roamed up her shorts and found the petals of Rose’s desire. It was some time later, while Rose lay draped and soft upon him that Stefan looked up into the blinding flashlight beam. His daughter’s shocked voice came from above him. “Daddy!”

“Turn it off, Estelle,” he said as quietly as he could manage. When the night was black and safe again, Rose pushed herself from him, and he grunted as her knee hit him again. She hurried to straighten her clothing, bumped
her head on the ceiling as she buttoned her shorts, and her elbow hit Stefan’s eye as he was sitting up. He rubbed his eye, and to protect Rose at her vulnerable moment, got out of the pickup and faced his daughter. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you? Daddy, did you know this is the local lover’s lane? I hope you know about protection and that—”

“Stop. Be quiet.” Stefan ran his hands through his hair and stuffed his cotton shirt back into his jeans.

“You could at least take Rose someplace nice, Daddy. Wherever old—I mean, older people go to be alone,” Estelle continued in a hushed voice.

Stefan inhaled deeply, wondering why privacy was so difficult to find in Waterville. With Rose in his arms, he had not felt old at all. “I repeat—what are you doing here?”

“Louie came to visit. We were…ah, checking out the local flora and fauna. Grandma is staying with her friends again tonight.”

Louie appeared behind her and placed a possessive arm around her shoulders. He smirked at Stefan. “Hi, Pops. You look like you’ve been steamed, rolled and pressed. Next time you try reverse psychology, like telling me how much work there is here and how much you’d like me to visit, remember that you’re dealing with Louie-the-dude.”

Before he could stop, Stefan’s hand shot out to grasp the front of Louie’s shirt. He hauled the youth up close to him. “Listen, you—”

“Daddy…don’t you dare!”
Estelle cried.

Rose moved from the shadows and stood by Stefan. “Louie, I’ve heard so much about you,” she said in a delighted tone while she pinched Stefan’s butt. Stunned,
he held very still. The next movement against his bottom was an affectionate pat.

Rose’s warning look at him was too deadly to mistake. Stefan released Louie and smiled tightly. After loving Rose, he didn’t want an all-out yelling match with his daughter. Donatien tempers, when aroused, weren’t sweet. “I’ll take Rose home now and see you later.”

“You do that, Pops. Rose is hot stuff with all her motors humming, a real biobabe,” Louie said with a knowing wink and as Stefan tensed, Rose gave him another warning pinch.

Later, while walking her to her front porch, Stefan finally managed to speak. “I dislike that boy intensely. I do not understand what Estelle sees in him.”

“Mmm. Are we having a bad day?” Rose asked in a teasing, cooing tone. “Estelle will handle him.” Then, just before she disappeared into her house, she took his face in her hands and pressed tiny kisses all over it. Stefan forgot about Louie and found himself humming as he drove home.

Back home, his head filled with delicious thoughts of Rose, he forced himself to settle Louie comfortably on the downstairs couch; he made certain that Estelle was in her upstairs room. Then he lay down on his bed, still sweetly scented of Rose, and shook his head.
Life used to be uncomplicated. Why wasn’t Rose in his arms now, breathing that soft, panting way, her muted cries curling around him?

When sleep eluded him and he could wait no longer, Stefan knocked lightly on his daughter’s bedroom door; he entered after her “I’m awake, Daddy. Come in.”

He feared discussing the delicate subject of sex with Estelle; she looked so young and sweet. He paced the room, placing his thoughts in order so that his words would
not be so curt. He promised himself he would not say, “I forbid it.”

“Daddy, stop thinking so hard,” his daughter said quietly. “Don’t worry about me having sex with Louie. I think he’s disgusting—now since I’ve had time away from him—now I’m into the clean country boys, with all those muscles and tans and tight buns. And no, I don’t have sex. I’m saving myself for the man I really love enough to marry. Louie was just a phase. I’ve changed so much. I guess it was a rebellion or something, because I’m twenty now and not a silly teenager anymore. Every time you objected to him, I wanted to prove that I could make my own choices, so I kept dating him, even though I knew he is a louse. Rose and I had this discussion a long time ago, and you don’t need to worry…but you do need to know about protection. Keep it in your wallet. You never know, and by the way, I think Rose’s biological clock has started ticking. She said something about how beautiful you must have been as a little boy. That’s stuff a woman says when she’s in the mother mode. Wouldn’t it be great if it worked out between you and we’d have a big family?”

Stefan stared at her, this girl-woman who was his daughter. Thoughts of babies with Rose danced around his head and he felt himself go all soft and vulnerable inside. “It’s been a long day. I’m exhausted,” he admitted finally. “And I love you, very, very much. I want only the best for you.”

“I know. That’s the good part. I know how much you love me, how deeply you care and how hard you’ve tried to make up for being a single parent. Not every dad would rearrange his work and life, and relocate to make his daughter’s dream come true.”

His heart filling, Stefan nodded curtly. He rubbed his
eyes, tears burning there. “I think I have a little something in my eyes,” he lied. “Sleep tight.”

In the shadows of her mother’s rose garden, Rose lifted her arms to the moon. Long ago, as a girl, she’d asked the moon to send her faeries for comfort, to hug her and love her as her mother couldn’t do.

She dropped her arms and her hands became fists. Why did making love to Stefan open the past?
It had been silent so long, and she had been safe.

Her father watched her from the back porch and she knew he worried. “He’s not like the others, Rose,” Maury said gently. “You’re going to have to deal with this and what you want. Stefan is a good man, and he hasn’t had that many easy times. He’s rock-solid. He’ll understand, if you tell him. This is something you can’t control or shove away. From the looks of things it’s time you faced this—you didn’t come home last night and Sylvester Frank said that he saw your pickup at the Donatiens’ this morning. Come here, and sit by me.”

When Rose settled on the steps beside him, Maury took her hand. “I should have been there for you, Rose, but I wasn’t. You shouldn’t have had to take care of the house—or me and the business, not at such an early age. You went to school some days in the clothes you wore the day before—a pitiful, scraggly little girl with toothpicks for legs.”

“We did okay, Dad.”

He patted her hand. “You did fine. Not me. I was selfish and the bottle offered me escape from guilt. I knew your mother wanted to travel, but I’d never taken the time to indulge her. I moved in my own world, worked more hours than a happily married man should. Yvette has told me a lot about Stefan and he’s succeeded where I failed. He’s
a man you can trust, Rose. Maybe it’s time you thought about making a home of your own, and starting that family. Don’t worry about me, I’ve got plans.”

She looked at him and smiled. “Want to tell me what they are?”