Home for Love (22 page)

Very early the next morning Kate drove back up McClary Hill, a package beside her. Heart thumping, she pulled into the drive. This was taking all her courage—more than she really possessed. And yet she knew Marietta was right. She had to face her fears. She had to take a chance. All her happiness depended on it.

But the Mercedes wasn't there. Dew sparkled on grass that was beginning to thrive. Water glinted in the fountain, the stone ship at sail again. The house looked cheerful in its sunny coat of yellow. And a For Sale sign was pounded ruthlessly into the ground in front of it.

"No. No! Dammit, Steven Reid, no!" But he was not there to hear.

Kate walked restlessly back and forth in the office of Horace Dilwood, real-estate agent. What was keeping the man? She was ready to fight out terms with him. She'd need to fight, because she didn't have a down payment for the house. But she was determined to own it. No one could stop her—least of all Steven.

He had left town and couldn't be reached. That was what the real-estate agent had told her, anyway. More than likely Steven just didn't want to be reached. There was nothing she could do about that. But he had abandoned the house and now it was up to Kate to rescue it.

"Come on, Mr. Dilwood," she said impatiently. She spoke in a loud, belligerent voice. The door burst open.

Kate found herself looking straight into Steven's slate-gray eyes. She held on to the back of a chair, willing her heart to calm its absurd pounding. With an effort she tilted her chin. "Why, hello, Steven," she said coolly.

"So it's you," he answered, his voice rough. "I'm sorry, Kate, but I've decided not to sell the house."

Anger blazed through her. "Surely you can see it belongs with me," she declared. "I'm the one who loves it!"

"I'm the one who bought it in the first place," he said. "Don't you think I care about it at all?"

They glared at each other across Mr. Dilwood's desk.

"Frankly, no. I don't think you care in the least."

Mr. Dilwood hovered around them. He buttoned his sweater, then unbuttoned it all the way down.

"Please, please!" he murmured. "I'm sure we can come to a suitable arrangement."

"The house is mine," Kate said, snatching up her briefcase.

"I'm not selling," Steven returned.

"You don't have any choice. I'll—I'll sue you if I have to!"

"I'm your lawyer. How can you sue your own lawyer?"

"Oh dear, oh dear," Mr. Dilwood sputtered, his sweater flapping. "I simply don't know what to say."

"I do," Kate muttered, striding out of the office. "This isn't over yet, Steven Reid!"

Next morning a loud knock sounded at the door of Kate's apartment. She awoke in the cool dawn light and struggled into her robe. Could it be Steven? Please, God-She yanked the door open, only to find a small boy. "Hello!" he hollered, then shoved an envelope into her hand and ran whooping down the stairs.

Kate tore open the envelope and scanned the single sheet inside. The handwriting was bold, decisive:

Whereas, the party of the first part, Steven Reid, does hereby subpoena the other party of the first part, Katarina Melrose, to appear posthaste at the yellow house on McClary Hill.

She leaned against the door, clutching the sheet in one hand and wiping away her tears with the other. Then she smiled. Steven thought he could commandeer her again, and this time he was right. She hurried to the bedroom, slipping into jeans and her favorite flowered shirt. She brushed out her hair and tried to dab on some mascara. The job was thoroughly botched, and she had to start all over again. At last she was ready, and ran out to her car.

When she got to Steven's house, she found him waiting by the mantel. He regarded her solemnly.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello."

"Do you think we can work this out?"

"We can try." Her voice shook, and she turned away quickly.

"Kate… I have something for you."

She was forced to look at him again. He held out a little white sack. It was filled with M&Ms.

"Oh, Steven…"

The bag was crushed between their bodies.

"Tell me what I have to do," he pleaded huskily against her ear. "Because I'll do anything. I can't live apart from you. That's all there is to it, Kate."

She pressed her face against his chest. "Just be here with me."

"I love you, Kate."

She looked up at him in joy. "I love you, too, Steven."

It was a long while before he lifted his mouth from hers.

"You taste like ginger." He kissed one eyebrow, the tip of her nose. "Aren't you going to share those M&Ms?"

She rescued the crumpled bag. "Always."

Steven led her to the sofa. Kate sat beside him, head nestled blissfully against his shoulder.

"My Katie…" he murmured, stroking her hair. "If only you knew… Well, I'll admit it. You scared the hell out of me that day you said you loved me. I'd done such a good job all my life convincing myself I was meant to be a bachelor. For a long time I was even a happy bachelor, Katie. It was easy not to fall in love. The women I knew were like Gloria—successful but always driven. Always looking for more success, never knowing when to stop and just enjoy life a little. I could understand that, of course—I was like that myself for such a long time. But then you burst into my life, with all your colors and flowers."

She pressed herself closer to him. "I'm here to stay," she said.

"You'd better be." He held her tightly. "I think I've loved you since that very first day. There you were, trying to hide your delectable body in that business suit…"

"Oh, it took me a little longer to fall for you," she said mock-seriously. "It wasn't until I saw you in a bath towel."

He chuckled, then ravished her mouth again. She clung to him, feeling decidedly unsteady. Steven traced, the line of her widow's peak with his finger.

"I kept trying to fight my love for you, Kate. You were shaking up my entire life, and I resisted as long and hard as I could. I flew out to Vermont last week. I thought if I got away from San Francisco, I'd be able to see things more clearly. I saw them, all right. I saw what a damn fool I'd been—afraid to admit I loved you. I guess all along I'd known that you were the only woman who could change my life—deep down, where it really mattered. That was pretty damn scary."

"Oh, Steven, I was afraid, too. I thought loving you meant losing all my freedom. But now I know I can't be free without you."

"You'll never lose your independence with me, Katie. All I want is to share my life with you—right here in San Francisco. This is where I'm going to have my new practice in family law."

Kate drew back so that she could look at him.

"Steven, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I'm so happy for you. I'm so happy for both of us! But I almost forgot—I have a present for you, too."

The book was bound in old leather, its gold tooling chipped and faded. Steven turned the yellowed pages carefully.

"
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
." He grinned. "My favorite. How did you know?"

"Elementary, my dear Steven."

"I'm very glad I'm going to marry you, Katie. You
will
marry me, won't you?"

"Yes. Oh, yes."

He kissed her again, tenderly.

"This old house needs us," he said. "We can't let it down, can we?"

"No, we can't," she answered softly. His arms enfolded her. There were no barriers to keep her from him now. She was home at last.