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primitive in design, this was not it.
 I know someone who could fix that for you.
He glanced in the same direction as she before switching to the other sleeve.  You
know about tattoos?
 A bit, she understated. Her eyes flicked downward.  Do you do this often?
 I have a niece who liked to play dress up in her younger years.
 And you would oblige her?
Finished with her sleeve, he tucked his hands into his back pockets.  Does that
surprise you?
She considered him for a moment.  Yes.
 Why?
 I m not sure. I guess I never thought of you as an uncle.
 How do you think of me?
As the man who made her body hum with one look. Whose presence in the same
room set off a symphony in her head, and whose touch sparked an electrical current.
But also, as a man who wanted something from her she didn t have in her to give.
His eyebrow arched.  Is it that bad?
 No. It s that complicated. He hadn t moved his gaze from her face, and her pulse
kicked up a few beats. She stared back at him, curling her hand around the spot on
her arm that continued to throb.  I m sorry I cried all over you.
 You have nothing to apologize for. You were frightened. Hurting. You should press
charges.
 I can t do that. She turned, started for the bar.  I m going to pour myself a cup of
coffee. Would you like one?
 Sure.
Isabeau slipped through the pass-through and retrieved two mugs while he sat on
the stool in front of her. She filled the mugs, moved back around the bar, and handed
him one.  I didn t ask you how you take it.
 This is fine. Why can t you press charges?
 I can t cause him any more pain.
 Who?
She blew across her mug, then sipped.  My father.
 Your father? I thought your father had passed.
She eased onto the stool next to him and curled her chilled hands around her mug.
 My biological father has. I mean the man who was a father to me in every other way,
Thomas Cahill.
 It s not a coincidence that they share a name, is it? His voice held no hint of the
frustration that she could see in the tight set of his jaw.
 No, it isn t. She shifted her hold on the mug, welcomed the warmth slowly
seeping into her hands.  Thomas is Tommy s father. Thomas and his wife divorced
when Tommy was a boy. Tommy s mother raised him.
 Let me guess, you were raised by his father?
She nodded.  My mother and Thomas met when I was two. We moved in with him
not long after. They were together until her death.
 What was your mother s name?
 Nicole, she supplied, smiling as the image of her mother flashed through her
memory.  She was kind and beautiful, a cellist with the New York Philharmonic.
 So you came by your talent naturally, he said, his voice quiet, matter-of-fact.
 My gift, she would call it. Only it had turned out to be her curse. Wrinkling her
forehead, she set her mug aside and changed the subject.  Tell me about your niece.
 I have a nephew as well. They re my brother s children.
 What s his name?
 My brother? His name is Paul.
She tilted her head.  Older or younger brother?
 Older by two years.
 Are you alike?
 Total opposites, he replied with a grin as he set his untouched coffee aside.  Paul
is business suits and loafers; I m worn-out Levi s and boots. The only music he listens
to is classical. Or yours he s a big fan of your music.
 You don t consider my music classical?
 No. It s...I don t know what I d call it, but not classical.
She thought for a moment but couldn t come up with an accurate description of her
music either.  Is Paul married?
Slowly, his grin became an all-out smile.  It s one of the greatest mysteries in life,
how Paul managed to woo Anne. Despite his mocking words, his love for his brother
was obvious.  The kids, they take after her. Good looking. Smart.
Did he know how lucky he was? To have the love of a family whom he loved in
return? She d never had more than her mother and Thomas. Taking a deep breath,
she allowed herself a moment to wonder what it would be like to have Noah talk
about her the way he spoke of his family with obvious love and connection. Her
heart pounded. Or maybe that was her head. Was the stereo still playing?
Tucking her hand into her back pocket, she retrieved the remote she carried with [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]