Husband Potential Page 6

  “I’m getting closer to a permanent decision.”

  Her face closed up, intriguing him even more. “I can’t imagine being torn in two like that.”

  “It runs in my family.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My father had the same problem.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “My father was a monk.”

  She put a nervous hand to her throat. “Your father?”

  “Yes.”

  “But—” She shook her head. “How could he be?”

  “Surely I don’t have to explain anything as basic as the attraction between the sexes. It happens, even to celibate monks with the best of intentions. Obviously my mother was a willing participant.”

  In a quiet voice she said, “I realize that. But it’s very sad for a soul to be at war. Is your mother still alive?”

  “No.”

  “Your father?”

  “No.”

  She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. From all indications, Abbot Ambrose was a great man.”

  Fran grasped the car door handle for support as her thoughts flashed back to the magazine photo of the head monk in his younger days.

  Abbot Ambrose was Andre Benet’s father?

  Upon recollection he’d been a very fine-looking man. Now that she knew of his relationship to the arresting male standing in front of her, she wondered why she hadn’t noticed the resemblance right away.

  Because you were trying so hard not to let this monk figure in your thoughts at all.

  She berated herself in disgust because from the first moment they’d met, the memory of him had been haunting her around the clock.

  “You talk as if your father were a stranger to you.”

  “For all intents and purposes, he was. Neither of us had a knowledge of the other until we met for the first time two weeks prior to his death. In fourteen short days we had to make up for a lifetime apart.”

  She still didn’t understand. “Before you met him, were you both monks at different monasteries?”

  “Hardly,” he mocked.

  Fran froze to the spot. “Are you saying you’re not a monk?”

  A subtle smile broke the corner of his mouth. Its masculine curvature did strange things to her insides.

  “I wonder if the truth would be any more palatable to you than your own erroneous assumptions about me.”

  She didn’t think she could take much more of this. “If they were erroneous, then you’re the one to blame for allowing me to assume something that was patently untrue. There have been several opportunities when you coul—”

  “Four to be precise,” he interjected before she’d finished speaking. “But I didn’t feel the time was right on any of those occasions to correct your thinking.”

  “And suddenly now it is?” Her eyes flashed green fire.

  He studied her for a breathless moment. “Yes. It seems that I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

  His reluctant admission caused her heart to nearly burst from its chest cavity. “You mean despite all your efforts?”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  Fran had no defense against such an admission. With her body trembling, she darted him an icy smile. “Isn’t it fortunate that I’m not suffering from the same dilemma.”

  “You know that’s not true. So do I,” came the husky retort. “If you remember, I was in the same office with you and your boss. He couldn’t have helped but be aware of the chemistry between us.”

  Terrified because Andre had always been able to feel her attraction to him, she opened the door of her car and got in as fast as she could before closing it. To her consternation, she realized she’d left the car window down, giving him access.

  As he lowered his dark head to look in at her, she was unbearably aware of his hands gripping the window sill. “I was going to come by your office tomorrow to ask you out for dinner. But now that you’re here in the flesh,” came the silky comment, “I find I don’t want to wait that long. Spend the rest of the evening with me.”

  She stared straight ahead. “That would be impossible!”

  “Does that mean you’re busy?”

  “It means I don’t accept invitations from virtual strangers.”

  “We’re hardly strangers.”

  Her head swung around in reaction. It was a mistake. Too late she remembered that she wasn’t going to look at him. The banked fire in his eyes excited and frightened her at the same time.

  “You are to me,” she said, her voice trembling. “Up until now I thought you were a monk!”

  The corner of his mouth twitched disturbingly. “A monk with mental problems?” He continued to read her mind with startling accuracy.

  “Surely the news that I’m a mere man who finds himself attracted to you should come as a relief. At least now you don’t have to feel guilty that all this time you’ve been tempting a celibate monk beyond his endurance.”

  Heat scorched her cheeks. His taunt provoked her to cry, “You’re wrong, Mr. Benet! If anything your confession makes you more suspect in my eyes than ever. I have no idea who you really are.”

  “I realize that. Up until now that’s the way I’ve wanted it. You see, Ms. Mallory, over the years I’ve enjoyed a certain freedom from complications only a woman can cause. Especially a woman like you.”

  His voice sounded unbearably seductive just now. She gripped the steering wheel tightly. “If that’s supposed to be some kind of compliment, it has failed, Mr. Benet. A person who could lie for months about something as fundamental as being a monk, is capable of lying about other things. I want no part of it!”

  “If I lied, I did it for my own self-preservation. As long as you believed I was a monk, it made it easier for me to keep my distance from you. Or so I thought…” he added on a note of self-mockery.

  “However, contrary to what you’re thinking, I didn’t start out with the intention of lying to you. When you came to the monastery, my father was on the verge of death. I didn’t want the others waiting on him. I hugged that privilege for myself.” Fran could hear the love in his voice as he talked about his parent.

  “We decided I should dress like the brothers to avoid speculation on the part of any visitors who might see me coming and going. On the morning of your arrival, I’d been up all night holding him so he could breathe more easily.”

  Dear God. It explained so much about that day. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  “We argued about his giving your magazine the interview at all. He was far too frail. But he insisted that it was important to him, so I told him I would handle the initial meeting in his place.”

  She sat there spellbound, all the while feeling his dark gaze wander over her profile.

  “When you came into the gift shop, you seemed to bring the essence of that spring day with you. Suddenly I resented your energy, your ability to get on about your business while the father I barely knew lay dying in a cell-like room.

  “Because of the precariousness of his situation, I resented the intrusion which took me away from his bedside. More, I resented the fact that despite my pain, I felt an unwanted attraction to you.

  “The second time you came to the monastery, I was in deep pain over my father’s death. Yet my attraction to you appeared to be stronger than ever. I wondered what it was about you that could get beneath my skin even when I had reached the lowest point of my life.

  “None of it made sense. Of course I didn’t want it to make sense. I didn’t want to feel an attachment to you. Commitment was something I had always avoided, so I perpetuated the myth that I was a monk and purposely chose to forget you.

  “But destiny seems to have had other plans for us. When we met at the concert, I realized I was in trouble where you were concerned. That night I came close to telling you the truth. But a part of me was still angry that I couldn’t get you out of my mind.

  “I’ll be honest with you, Francesca.
I’ve known several women in my life intimately, but in the end, I never felt anything lasting. Then I met you.” His voice grated. “The attraction was immediate and has never gone away. At this point I want to explore what there could be between us because I know you feel that attraction too.”

  She felt a delicious shiver chase across her skin.

  “You know I’m the son of Father Ambrose,” he persisted with unflappable calm. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe you entitled your story on him, ‘Monument to a Saint.’ Surely that’s a starting place for us. By the time we finish our meal, we’ll both know a great deal more about each other. It’s long past time, don’t you agree?”

  The temptation to say yes was overpowering. But his honesty had created new demons. His admission that he hadn’t been able to stay in one relationship with a woman terrified her.

  He didn’t sound that different from her own father who stopped loving her mother and moved on. Fran wasn’t about to repeat history.

  “I appreciate your honesty, and I admit there’s an attraction. But I can’t go out with you, Andre—” she blurted without looking at him. “Don’t ask me why, I just can’t. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for an open house.”

  There was a tension-filled silence. “I envy you,” he murmured.

  “What do you mean?” His comment had thrown her off base once more.

  “You have someplace to go, people to see who care about you. I’m not from Salt Lake. Because I’m the son of the deceased Abbot, I’ve been treated as a special guest at the monastery. But I can’t take advantage of their hospitality forever, and the monks aren’t allowed to fraternize. As it stands, I don’t know a single soul in the city except you.”

  He sounded lonely. Damn him.

  She took a shuddering breath. “If you’re trying to make me feel sorry for you, it won’t work.”

  “You misunderstand me. I thought I was making it clear that you’re the only reason I’m in Salt Lake at all.”

  “I’m sorry for you then, because I couldn’t possibly consider having a serious relationship with you,” she said to cover her pounding heart.

  “If that’s true, why did Brother Joseph tell me how disappointed you were when you came to the monastery with the magazines and discovered I was no longer there?”

  Her face went hot. “He must have imagined it.”

  “No. He distinctly said you were upset, and wanted to know where I’d gone. That doesn’t sound like a woman who couldn’t possibly considering having a relationship with me.”

  “Please, Andre—” she cried in protest. She was sinking fast.

  “Please what? Do you suppose I’m just imagining the wild throbbing at the base of your throat not covered by that attractive blouse you have on? Everything you wear suits your remarkable coloring and figure.”

  Floundering she said, “T-That was too personal a remark to make to someone you scarcely know.”

  “In May we shared an interesting hour putting ideas for your magazine together, but it wasn’t long enough. Neither was our too-brief meeting in Los Angeles. That’s why I’m back, to remedy the situation. But if you take strong offense to a simple compliment from me, then I guess I don’t need to wonder how you’ll react to this.”

  She glimpsed a look of raw desire in his eyes before he caught her face between his hands. They felt strong and male against her skin.

  He was going to kiss her right in front of everyone coming in and out of the convenience store!

  Before she could let out a cry of protest, his mouth covered hers, smothering the sound. She tried to fight him, but there was no place to go.

  With relentless precision he forced her against the headrest, coaxing her lips apart until the two of them were moving and breathing as one flesh.

  Unbelievably, she found herself kissing him back, one kiss after another until she lost count in her feverish need to prolong this overwhelming feeling of rapture.

  Until this moment she’d never known the meaning of ecstasy. The world started to spin out of control. To her shock, the small moaning noises she could hear were coming from her own throat.

  She couldn’t get close enough to him. Something was preventing her from molding herself to his hard, powerful body. As she yearned toward him, her knees came up against the closed door. That’s when she realized the extent of her euphoria. Their involvement had caused her to lose cognizance of time and place.

  Too soon he relinquished her swollen lips with a satisfied smile. “Don’t ever tell me again you’re not interested.” His husky whisper resonated to her insides. “Enjoy the open house.”

  “Fran! How nice you came. Howard has been asking about you. Go on in the dining room. Mrs. Landers is telling him all about her ailments. I think he could use rescuing,” the pastor said with a twinkle in his light gray eyes.

  She smiled like an automaton and followed the other late arrivals headed for the food. She couldn’t believe she was able to walk upright and chat about inconsequential matters as if nothing had happened to her.

  Surely everyone in the Barker home could tell she’d been kissed senseless. One look in the rearview mirror had confirmed her suspicions. Her eyes held an abnormal glow. The reddened skin around her mouth was still tender to the touch from his five o’clock shadow. Her pulse rate had tripled. Worst of all, whenever she remembered his mouth on hers, her body ached with an indescribable pain.

  All her life she’d heard about that magical thing called “chemistry.” She knew it had to exist, otherwise there would be no drive to perpetuate the species.

  But nothing could have prepared her for the life-changing experience which had just taken place inside her car with a man who was more of a stranger to her than ever.

  Before tonight, she had imagined him lodged with his brothers. She’d envisioned him being in that setting since his late teens when many young men decided to join the priesthood, an environment she could picture as a place of safety and refuge.

  To find out he had no religious vocation meant that all his adult years he’d been other places doing other things, which made him more of a mystery than ever.

  He was a man of the world.

  Naturally there’d been other women. No man as attractive as Andre Benet would have reached his midthirties without getting involved. But by his own admission, none of his affairs had lasted.

  That’s what they were. Affairs. Just like her father.

  The fact that she still knew nothing about his home or the way he earned his living, made what she’d done with him in the car so much worse. To her shame, she had returned his kisses with torrid intensity. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.

  She didn’t even want to think about the women who’d been intimately involved with him. No doubt his sex appeal was too potent for a woman to resist.

  Fran was a case in point!

  But even if she hungered to be in his arms again, to be thrilled by the taste and feel of his mouth, the thought of getting involved with a man who admitted he’d always been a free spirit was out of the question.

  If and when the day came that she were truly to fall in love, it would have to be with an honorable man of integrity who wanted to put down roots, someone with a solid background and values.

  “Five dollars for those troubling thoughts,” a male voice said, jolting her back to the present.

  She lifted her head. “Howard—”

  “You remembered my name. That’s something at least.”

  His clear blue eyes hadn’t changed. They still looked at her with the same male admiration she remembered, but they were also asking questions.

  No doubt he would make a fine obstetrician. Without saying a word, he sensed she was tortured about something and had invited her to confide in him. Under other circumstances she might have found herself telling him her problems, just like Mrs. Landers.

  “Your thoughts still have you tongue-tied,” he murmured with a trace of compassion. “I can’t beli
eve you’re not married with a couple of children by now.”

  “I was going to say the same thing about you. As for me, I’ve been too busy establishing my own career.”

  “I know. Dad showed me the issue of Beehive Magazine with your story on the Tabernacle Choir making the cover page. Congratulations! You’re a very gifted writer and photographer.”

  “Thank you. You haven’t done so badly yourself, Doctor. Though I feel I should apologize for your father. I know he’s always interested in everyone who makes up his congregation, but I’m sure you could have done without the magazine being thrust in your face.”

  He smiled his old smile, but the arrogance was missing. The handsome, blond six-foot teenager who’d been two years older than herself had turned into an even better-looking, darker-blond man of thirty.

  “On the contrary. I asked him to keep me posted about you.”

  Fran had no idea. Not after all these years.

  “Then let me be one in a long line of people to say, welcome home.”

  A faint smile broke the corner of his mouth. “You sound like you meant that.”

  The directness of his comment puzzled her. “Of course I did. I do! Everyone is proud of the local boy who made good, particularly your parents.”

  One brow quirked. “Does this mean you would finally consider going out on a date with me? I’ve been waiting nine years for the opportunity.”

  Fran would have laughed if any other male acquaintance from her past had made a remark like that. But because this was Howard, and she was aware of how she had rebuffed him quite mercilessly when they were teenagers, she experienced a healthy dose of remorse.

  In truth, he’d never done anything wrong. Because of her bitterness over her adulterous father’s multiple affairs, she had made the pastor’s attractive son an unwitting target, painting him and her unfaithful parent with the same brush.

  “If you’re asking, then I accept.”

  He shook his head. “Just like that. Incredible. How about tomorrow night? We could go to dinner as soon as I finish my hospital rounds.”

  Howard was exactly what she needed right now to put thoughts of Andre Benet away for good.