rekindled(英文版)-第18章
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〃Not by choice。〃
〃Then why?〃
His crooked grin did stranger things inside her than even the wine; with
its gentle warming touch。 〃I'm not totally different from that man back
in New Orleans。 I'm an idealist at heart。 I always will be。 I have a
certain image of what love should be like。 If I can't have it that way;
I'd rather not have it at all。〃
Chloe looked down。 What was love? What would she have wanted from it had
she allowed it into her life? She watched Ross's fingers; curling
absently around his goblet's stern。 At that moment; love would have
meant reaching out to touch them; to thread hers through them。
Burying her hand in her lap; she said; 〃Tell me about that image; Ross。
In its most ideal form; what should love be like?〃
He stared at her; his eyes a pensive gold。 He seemed to weigh and
balance; to sift through both sides of a private debate as the quiet
sounds of the restaurant drifted by。
Chloe waited; sipping wine; buoyed by it。 Her thoughts wandered; but not
in debate。 There was nothing to debate。 Ross Stephenson was even more
appealing than he had been in her memory all those years。 He was a man
for today; to be sipped and savored like the wine he poured into her now
empty glass。
When he spoke; she was grateful for the wine's mellowing shield。 〃When
was the last time you were home?〃
〃Home?〃
〃New Orleans。 Do you go back there often?〃
〃No。〃 New Orleans was the past。 She wanted the present。 〃What does that
have to do with anything?〃
〃Love。 You asked me about it。 I'm asking you the same。 You loved your
family once。 Do you still?〃
〃Yes。〃
〃But you never see them。 Don't you miss them?〃
Even in spite of the wine; she grew defensive。 〃I do。〃
〃How often do you call home?〃 he asked gently。
〃Every so often。〃
〃And the last time you flew down?〃
She hedged。 〃It was a while ago。〃
When he leaned forward to pursue his point; she sensed that he really
and truly cared。 〃Why; Chloe? What does love mean to you that you can
ignore those same people who worry themselves sick about you? That can't
be what love is about。〃
〃We're talking about different kinds of love。 One kind you're born into;
the other you choose。〃
〃The end result is the same。 Once a man and a woman make that mitment
and marry; they face the same kinds of trials that your family faced。
You've run away…〃
〃Don't。〃 She clamped a hand on his arm。 〃Please don't; Ross。 I don't
want to talk about this。〃
His voice gentled。 〃You have to talk about it sometime。 There are so
many things you've refused to face; about yourself; about your family…〃
〃Not tonight;〃 she insisted softly。 She let her eyes plead; only because
her voice kept its dignity。 〃I want to enjoy myself tonight。 Please?〃
Ross stared first at her; then at the tablecloth; then at the far wall。
When his gaze finally returned she saw a glint of humor。 〃When you look
at me like that; I'd do anything!〃
〃Anything?〃 She clutched at that。
〃Anything。〃
〃Then tell me about the Picasso exhibit。 You saw it when it was in New
York; didn't you? Was it as spectacular as the reviews claimed?〃
〃Every bit。〃
She waited for him to say more; but he simply stared at her。
〃Go on; Ross。 Tell me about it。〃
His gaze narrowed。 〃I'm not giving up; Chloe。 We'll get back to that
other conversation sooner or later。 For now I'll humor you。〃
〃I'm waiting;〃 she sang brightly; making light of his threat。 〃The
exhibit?〃
The evening passed more quickly than she could have dreamed。 Not only
did they discuss Picasso; but they delved into politics; Wall Street;
and the National Football League as well。 For Chloe; the Chiteaubriand
Bouquetre with B6arnaise Sauce was incidental; as was the mellow red
wine that flowed with the appearance of the beef。 Her attention was on
Ross and Ross alone。
When was it that she had vowed indifference? That morning? What a fool
she had been to think she could remain indifferent to Ross for long。 She
knew her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks flushed; and she couldn't
seem to stop smiling。 Indifferent? Fat chance。 Even aside from the
physical; she found him to be the most interesting; well…informed;
articulate man she had ever known。 Though they didn't agree on
everything; he respected Chloe's right to her own opinion。 It made
conversation free and relaxed; neither one fearful of offending the
other。
The blend of Ross and the wine put Chloe at ease。 When he suggested that
they take dessert cheese home to eat with fruit overlooking the ocean;
she was all for it。 Unfortunately; it was downright chilly when they
emerged from Farmington Court; and it began to drizzle during the drive
home。
〃So much for a gentle evening breeze;〃 Ross grumbled as he hustled Chloe
up the front steps to her door between increasingly large drops of rain。
〃The living room will have to do。〃
〃That'll be fine。 I'm in the mood for Debussy anyway; and it would have
peted with the surf。〃
He smiled at her。 〃La Mer?〃
〃I had another of his works in mind。〃 Once inside; she went straight to
the shelves below the stereo unit; where she kept a small but cherished
collection of works of the masters。 With pride she pulled one CD from
the lot。
Ross's brow shot up。 〃L Aprds…midi dun faune?〃 Again his accent was
flawless。 〃I haven't listened to that in years!〃
〃I always called it Afternoon of a Faun。 I like the way you say it;
though。 It sounds so much more romantic。〃
〃It is a romantic piece。〃
Ignoring the note of caution that sounded from somewhere in the back of
her mind; she took out the CD。 The entire evening had been romantic; so
why not this? If she was enjoying herself; why stop?
Ross squatted to study her collection。 His expression was all male and
distinctly wicked when he winked back over his shoulder。 〃You have
Ravel。 Should I put that on?〃
She had seen that video; too。 〃Debussy will be fine;〃 she said without
batting an eyelash。
Richly pictorial chords filled the room。 Chloe sank into a corner of the
sofa; put her head back; and closed her eyes。 She was aware of movement
within the room; but concentrated on the music floating softly through
the air about her。 She was dreaming; wakened only by the warm lips that
kissed her bare throat once。 Her eyes flew open。
〃e sit with me and have some cheese。〃 He took her hand and coaxed her
to the floor beside a plate of cheese and fruit。 She slipped off her
high…heeled sandals。
They sat in front of the sofa and chairs; on the thick cream…colored
area rug that covered the hardwood floor。 Chloe was the keeper of the
edibles; slicing fruit and cheese; stacking a piece of one on the other
to offer Ross。 He lounged casually on an elbow; legs stretched and
crossed as he kept their wineglasses filled。
〃Are you trying to get me drunk?〃 she teased。
〃What fun would you be drunk?〃 He paused。 〃Are you sure you don't want
to listen to Ravel?〃
〃Don't you like Debussy?〃 she asked innocently。 Ross simply topped off
her wineglass。
In the hours that followed they talked more。 Chloe asked Ross about his
childhood and discovered that he had both a sister and a brother; that
he had studied the violin during one of his mother's culture binges; and
that he had been expelled from school for a day after tossing a water
bomb from a second…story building and soaking kids in the playground。
〃A water bomb? Ross; how could you? That's the type of thing the girls
always hated!〃
〃That's why I did it。〃
〃e on;〃 she chided; her eyes half closed; 〃a ladies' man like you?〃
〃Sure。 I was eight at the time。 It satisfied my need for machismo。〃
Chloe laughed at the idea of an eight…year…old Ross striving for
machismo。 He certainly didn't need to strive now。
〃You have three brothers; don't you?〃 Ross picked the perfect time to
turn the conversation。 She was in a more relaxed; more open mood than
earlier。 It didn't occur to her not to answer。
〃Uh…huh。 Allan; Chris; and Tim。 They've gone into Daddy's business。〃
She frowned。 〃I haven't seen them in a while。〃
〃Will you be going down for Thanksgiving next month?〃
November was the last time of year she ever went to visit。 〃No。 I think
Tim will be in New York then。 I may meet him there。 I'm not sure。 I
haven't heard from him in a while。〃
〃Do you call them?〃
This time; she did smell the trap。 〃Oh; no; you don't; Ross Stephenson。
I'm not so tipsy that I can't see what you're doing。 It won't work。〃
〃You won't tell me about you?〃 he asked with such honest disappointment
that she almost gave in。 Almost; but not quite。 There was too much she
didn't want to face tonight。 This was a night for the present。 She shook
her head in silent insistence。
〃Then sit closer。〃 Before she could protest he had shifted so that she
leaned against him as he leaned against the sofa。 〃There。〃 His voice was
pleasantly husky。 〃fortable?〃
〃Ummm。〃 She was extremely so。 In fact; she couldn't think of a place
where she would have been more fortable。 Ross's chest was broad under
her cheek; his arms were gentle around her; his heartbeat a pacifying
tattoo through her。
Time became an expendable entity; there was no need to move。 They sat
quietly in one another's arms; lulle