Indecent Suggestion - By Elizabeth Bevarly Page 0,82

her question, Turner did look at her again, full on. But it was in a way she’d never seen him look at her before, with an expression that was all wistful and poignant and melancholy. And only then did Becca begin to fully understand what was inherent in that look.

Oh, no, she thought. He couldn’t be. Not Turner. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t be in love with her. Not in some un-posthypnotic way. Could he?

“Turner?” she prodded again.

This time, in response to her question, he nodded. And, his gaze still fixed on hers, he confirmed, “Yeah, I love you, Becca. Honestly. Truly. I always have. Even before we went to see Dorcas. Back in college. Back in high school. Hell, back in second grade. I’ve always loved you. And I always will.”

His declaration left her speechless. She had no idea what to say.

So Turner continued, “Even though Dorcas did hypnotize me that day, for some reason, the suggestion didn’t take for me. It doesn’t matter what word I hear when I’m around you. I want you. In the most basic, most intimate, most loving way there is. I always have. I just never told you how I feel, because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to be around me if you knew. You always said you wanted us to be friends and nothing more. But, then, over the past few weeks, with all the time we spent together, and the way we—”

He halted, closed his eyes for a minute, took another deep breath and tried again. “I started to think that maybe you loved me, too,” he told her, opening his eyes once more to study her. “But it’s all been a Vegas lounge act. It’s all been a big joke. A big, fat, stupid joke. And the joke’s on me. Pretty funny, huh?”

Becca had no idea what to say to that, either. No idea what to do. No idea what to feel. This was just too much. Too much for her to take in at once. In a few minutes’ time, she’d lost Turner, the love she had for him and any future she’d been thinking might lie ahead for the two of them. All because of something she still wasn’t sure she understood.

When she said nothing in response to his confession, only continued to gaze dumbly back, he nodded slowly, silently, and turned to walk away. Becca told herself to call him back, to tell him that they needed to talk more about this, but at that point, she truly had no idea what to say to him.

So she let him go, watching helplessly as he made his way down the hallway toward the elevator at the end. And she watched, too, as he extended a lethargic hand to push the button that would summon the elevator. And she watched as he stepped aboard when the metal doors slid open. Never once did he turn around, however. Not even to push the button so the elevator would take him down to the first floor. He waited until the doors closed on his rigid figure, because he obviously didn’t want to have to look at Becca again.

Ever? she wondered. Would he never want to see her again after today?

And although she wanted answers to all the questions zinging through her brain, the answer for that last one was the one she feared the most.

13

BECCA SKIPPED OUT ON WORK the following Monday. She called the office to tell them she’d come down with a bug, completely unconcerned about the lie. Some things were more important than work, after all. And when the receptionist at Englund Advertising told Becca that Turner was out, too, in a tone of voice that more than hinted at her belief that the two absences were connected, it was all Becca could do not to agree with the woman. She just wished the reason really was what the receptionist suspected. That Becca and Turner were together, taking the day off so that they could steam up the sheets and thumb their noses at the rest of the world, including their employer.

She’d spent Sunday trying to sort everything out, had looked at the situation from every way she could think to look at it. And although a lot of stuff still didn’t make sense, there were two things she knew unequivocally. Number one, the feelings she’d discovered for Turner couldn’t possibly be the result of any posthypnotic suggestion. And number two, the feelings she’d discovered for Turner