Temptation by Nora Roberts Page B

maybe you would even have been content. His tastes were compatible with yours. His family mixed well with yours.”
    Amusement fled. “You make it sound so cold.”
    â€œIt was. But you’re not.” Candy raised her hands, hoping she hadn’t gone too far. “Eden, you were raised a certain way, to be a certain way; then the roof collapsed. I can only guess at how traumatic that was. You’ve picked yourself up, but still you’ve closed pieces of yourself off. Isn’t it time you put the past behind you, really behind you?”
    â€œI’ve been trying.”
    â€œI know, and you’ve made a good start, with the camp, with your outlook. Maybe it’s time you started looking for a little more, just for yourself.”
    â€œA man?”
    â€œSome companionship, some sharing, some affection. You’re too smart to think that you need a man to make things work, but to cut them off because one acted like a weasel isn’t the answer, either.” She rubbed at a streak of red paint on her fingernail. “I guess I still believe that everyone needs someone.”
    â€œMaybe you’re right. Right now I’m too busy pasting myself back together and enjoying the results. I’m not ready for complications. Especially when they’re six foot two.”
    â€œYou were always the romantic one, Eden. Remember the poetry you used to write?”
    â€œWe were children.” Restless, Eden moved her shoulders. “I had to grow up.”
    â€œGrowing up doesn’t mean you have to stop dreaming.” Candy rose. “We’ve started one dream here, together. I want to see you have other dreams.”
    â€œWhen the time’s right.” Touched, Eden kissed Candy’s cheek. “We’ll have your dance and charm your counselors.”
    â€œWe could invite some neighbors, just to round things out.”
    â€œDon’t press your luck.” Laughing, Eden turned toward the door. “I’m going for a walk before I check on the horses. Leave the light on low, will you?”
    The air was still, but not quiet. The first nights Eden had spent in the hills, the country quiet had disturbed her. Now, she could hear and appreciate the night music. The chorus of crickets in soprano, the tenor crying of an owl, the occasional bass lowing of the cows on a farm half a mile away all merged into a symphony accompanied by the rustling of small animals in the brush. The three-quarter moon and a galaxy of stars added soft light and dramatic shadows. The erratic yellow beams of an army of fireflies was a nightly light show.
    As she strolled toward the lake, she heard the rushing song of peepers over the softer sound of lapping water. The air smelled as steamy as it felt, so she rounded the edge of the lake toward the cooler cover of trees.
    With her mind on her conversation with Candy, Eden bent to pluck a black-eyed Susan. Twisting the stem between her fingers, she watched the petals revolve around the dark center.
    Had she been a romantic? There had been poetry, dreamy, optimistic poetry, often revolving around love. Troubadour love, she thought now. The sort that meant long, wistful glances, sterling sacrifices and purity. Romantic, but unrealistic, Eden admitted. She hadn’t written any poetry in a long time.
    Not since she had met Eric, Eden realized. She had gone from dreamy young girl to proper young woman, exchanging verses for silver patterns. Now both the dreamy girl and the proper woman were gone.
    That was for the best, Eden decided, and she tossed her flower onto the surface of the lake. She watched it float lazily.
    Candy had been right. It had not been a matter of love with Eric, but of fulfilling expectations. When he had turned his back on her, he had broken not her heart, but her pride. She was still repairing it.
    Eric had given her a suitable diamond, sent her roses at the proper times and had never been at a loss for a clever