could contribute to her needs if she’d only give him a chance.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured when they stood weak, clinging, and dazed, torn between body and mind, between sex on the spot and returning to the party. “I’m sorry I misjudged you.”
“Don’t do it again,” she said as she desperately tried to gather her wits. “You don’t know me.”
“I want to.”
“I don’t like your aunt, but I’ve tried not to use that ruler on you. You’re different. I like you. Please, don’t disappoint me,” she said, and for a moment it was as if she’d asked him to commit suicide for her. The ultimate test of her faith in him. And for that moment he was completely willing to do it.
It was a simple request. Don’t disappoint her. Don’t make her sorry that she trusted him. Don’t prove her wrong in her hopes that he wasn’t like his aunt, who for all her good works was also narrow-minded and a bit of a snob. In an instant, he knew that no matter what the future held for them, he’d spend the rest of his life striving to fulfill her one demand.
“I’ll try not to disappoint you,” he said. “If you’ll answer one question.”
“What?” she asked. Her eyes were wide open.
“Are you psychic?”
“Am I what?”
“When I’m angry, I know it’s obvious. But how did you know what I was mad about? How did you know about the cream and sugar in my coffee and the Jack Daniels? And what about the weird way you have of knowing what I’m thinking and the—”
“That must be it, then,” she said, smiling, his question too impossible to take seriously. “You’ve found me out. I’m psychic.”
“I’m serious.”
“I can see that. And I’m confessing. If that makes you feel any better. But we both know I’m not psychic, for crying out loud.”
“Then how do you know all those things about me?”
“I don’t. I act on hunches and do whatever I think is best.”
“Well, it’s damned peculiar.”
She leaned close, as if to tell him a secret.
“So is life, in case you haven’t noticed,” she said, locking their arms together. “Come on. I’ll show you the work I submitted so you can bid enough money on it to renovate the entire building. Oh. Maybe I should tell you...” She put a hand to his shirtfront. He was sure it would leave a permanent impression on his skin. “I have a devout irreverence for money. It’s like the world’s best joke that so few have so much of it, when so many others need it more. If I give it too much importance, I get a little crazy.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Good. I didn’t want you to think it was personal.”
“Of course not,” he said, a smile twitching at his lips.
The rest of the evening was perfect. Holly would vanish and then reappear at his side with a smile that let him know where she was happiest.
Her contribution to the auction was an enlarged photograph of a gnarly, work-worn hand cradling the fat, young, innocent hand of a child. It touched the hearts of many a father and son in the crowd and, strangely enough, was taken out of the bidding before the auction began.
“I don’t understand how that could happen,” she said when she was told by one of her committee chairpersons. “Don’t we have rules about things like that?”
“It’s the first time anyone’s ever offered us that much money to take something out. We didn’t know what to do. We’ve never gotten that much money for anything.”
“Well, who was it?”
The woman shrugged. “Gracie didn’t say. She said the man came, gave her a big check, and then left her with her mouth hanging open.”
“Oliver?” She turned to him. “Can things like this happen? It’s not against the law or anything, is it?”
“I don’t think so. Not if everyone involved is happy with the purchase price.”
“Are we happy, Jannine?”
“We’re thrilled,” she confided in a low voice.
“Okay,” she said pragmatically. “Oliver, have you met Jannine yet? None of
“I’m sorry,” he murmured when they stood weak, clinging, and dazed, torn between body and mind, between sex on the spot and returning to the party. “I’m sorry I misjudged you.”
“Don’t do it again,” she said as she desperately tried to gather her wits. “You don’t know me.”
“I want to.”
“I don’t like your aunt, but I’ve tried not to use that ruler on you. You’re different. I like you. Please, don’t disappoint me,” she said, and for a moment it was as if she’d asked him to commit suicide for her. The ultimate test of her faith in him. And for that moment he was completely willing to do it.
It was a simple request. Don’t disappoint her. Don’t make her sorry that she trusted him. Don’t prove her wrong in her hopes that he wasn’t like his aunt, who for all her good works was also narrow-minded and a bit of a snob. In an instant, he knew that no matter what the future held for them, he’d spend the rest of his life striving to fulfill her one demand.
“I’ll try not to disappoint you,” he said. “If you’ll answer one question.”
“What?” she asked. Her eyes were wide open.
“Are you psychic?”
“Am I what?”
“When I’m angry, I know it’s obvious. But how did you know what I was mad about? How did you know about the cream and sugar in my coffee and the Jack Daniels? And what about the weird way you have of knowing what I’m thinking and the—”
“That must be it, then,” she said, smiling, his question too impossible to take seriously. “You’ve found me out. I’m psychic.”
“I’m serious.”
“I can see that. And I’m confessing. If that makes you feel any better. But we both know I’m not psychic, for crying out loud.”
“Then how do you know all those things about me?”
“I don’t. I act on hunches and do whatever I think is best.”
“Well, it’s damned peculiar.”
She leaned close, as if to tell him a secret.
“So is life, in case you haven’t noticed,” she said, locking their arms together. “Come on. I’ll show you the work I submitted so you can bid enough money on it to renovate the entire building. Oh. Maybe I should tell you...” She put a hand to his shirtfront. He was sure it would leave a permanent impression on his skin. “I have a devout irreverence for money. It’s like the world’s best joke that so few have so much of it, when so many others need it more. If I give it too much importance, I get a little crazy.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Good. I didn’t want you to think it was personal.”
“Of course not,” he said, a smile twitching at his lips.
The rest of the evening was perfect. Holly would vanish and then reappear at his side with a smile that let him know where she was happiest.
Her contribution to the auction was an enlarged photograph of a gnarly, work-worn hand cradling the fat, young, innocent hand of a child. It touched the hearts of many a father and son in the crowd and, strangely enough, was taken out of the bidding before the auction began.
“I don’t understand how that could happen,” she said when she was told by one of her committee chairpersons. “Don’t we have rules about things like that?”
“It’s the first time anyone’s ever offered us that much money to take something out. We didn’t know what to do. We’ve never gotten that much money for anything.”
“Well, who was it?”
The woman shrugged. “Gracie didn’t say. She said the man came, gave her a big check, and then left her with her mouth hanging open.”
“Oliver?” She turned to him. “Can things like this happen? It’s not against the law or anything, is it?”
“I don’t think so. Not if everyone involved is happy with the purchase price.”
“Are we happy, Jannine?”
“We’re thrilled,” she confided in a low voice.
“Okay,” she said pragmatically. “Oliver, have you met Jannine yet? None of
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