I decided to play along. "Are we taking the Gulfstream or the Citation?"
"For Europe, definitely the Gulfstream."
Then I realized he was serious. "I don't even own a suitcase." I said, stunned.
"I'll buy whatever you need when we get there."
"You said you were tired of traveling."
"I meant business traveling. Besides, I'd like to see Paris with someone who's never been there before." His voice gentled. "It would be like seeing it for the first time again."
"No, no. no...people don't go to Europe on the first date."
"Yes they do."
"Not my kind of people. Besides, it would scare Carrington for me to do something spontaneous like that—"
"Projecting," he murmured.
"All right, it would scare me. I don't know you well enough to take a trip with you."
"That's going to change."
I stared at Gage in amazement. He was more relaxed than I'd ever seen him. a dance of laughter in his eyes. "What's gotten into you?" I asked dazedly.
He shook his head, smiling. "I'm not sure. But I'm going to go with it."
We talked all through dinner. There was so much I wanted to tell him, and even more I wanted to ask. Three hours of conversation wasn't even a scratch on the surface. Gage was a good listener, seeming genuinely interested in the stories about my past, all the details that should have bored him silly. I told him about Mama, how much I missed her and all the problems we'd had with each other. I even told him about the guilt I had harbored for years. that it was my fault Mama had never gotten especially close to Carrington.
"I thought at the time I was stepping in to fill a gap," I said. "But after she died, I wondered if I hadn't...well, I loved Carrington so much right from the start, I just sort of took over. And I've wondered so often if I was guilty of...I don't know the word for it..."
"Marginalizing her?"
"What does that mean?"
"Putting her on the sidelines."
"Yes. Yes, that's what I did."
"Bull." Gage said gently. "It doesn't work that way, sweetheart. You didn't take anything away from your mother by loving Carrington." He took my hand, wrapping his wann fingers around mine. "It sounds like Diana was occupied with her own problems. She was probably grateful you were there to give Carrington the affection she couldn't."
"I hope so:" I said, unconvinced. "I.. .how did you know her name?"
He shrugged. "Dad must have mentioned it."
In the warm silence that followed, I recalled Gage had lost a mother when he was only three. "Do you remember anything about your mother?"
Gage shook his head. "Ava was the one who took care of me when I was sick; read me stories, patched me up after I'd been in a fight and gave me hell for it later." A reflective sigh. "God, I miss her."
"Your father does too." I paused before daring to ask. "Do you mind that he has girlfriends?"
"Hell, no." He grinned suddenly. "As long as you're not one of them."
We got back to River Oaks at about midnight. I was slightly tipsy from two glasses of wine and a few sips of the port they had brought out with dessert, which had consisted of French cheese and paper-thin slices of date-nut bread. I felt better than I had in my entire life, maybe even better than those halcyon moments with Hardy so long ago. It almost worried me, feeling that happy. I had a thousand ways of making sure a man could never really get close. Sex was not nearly as difficult, or dangerous, as intimacy.
But the vague worry couldn't quite take root, because something about Gage compelled me to trust him despite my best efforts not to. I wondered how many times in my life I had done something just because I wanted to. without weighing the consequences.
We had both fallen silent as Gage pulled up to the house and stopped the car. The air snapped with unspoken questions. I sat still in my seat, not meeting his gaze. A few raw, coursing seconds, and I fumbled blindly for the buckle of my seat belt. Without hurry. Gage got out of the car and came around to my side.
"It's late." I remarked casually as he helped me out of the car.
"Tired11"
We walked to the front door. The night air was cool and sweet, clouds brooding across the moon in transparent layers.
I nodded to indicate yes, I was tired, although it wasn't true. I was nervous. Now that we were back in familiar territory, I found it difficult not to slip into my old cautions. We stopped by the door, and I turned to face him. My balance was uncertain in the high heels. I must have swayed a little, because he reached out and took my waist in his hands, fingers resting on the upper slope of my hips. My closed hands formed a small barricade between us. Words tumbled from my lips—I thanked him for dinner, tried to express how much I'd enjoyed it...