had the strange feeling he could be dangerous if crossed.
“I didn’t know you very well,” he said casually, “but I do know that you never used to be out-and-out rude.”
Sloan straightened as if she had been slapped. Of all the nerve! What a comment to make in her house! She drew breath for a caustic reply but snapped her mouth shut as Cassie gracefully sailed in from the kitchen with a tray of drinks.
“Wes,” Cassie said as she placed the tray on the mahogany coffee table. “That’s your bourbon on the left. Sloan, scotch in the middle.”
Sloan fell silent as Wes and Cassie began to converse with a pleasant camaraderie. Moments later, George put in his appearance, and after kissing his wife and sister-in-law, he accepted the Wild Turkey and soda his wife had precipitously prepared and assured her the boys were safe in bed and his mother happily ensconced before the television set enjoying an oldie about a monster that was threatening to eat New York. He, too, readily joined in the light banter, and the talk turned to football. Sloan allowed her mind to wander.
She admitted to herself that she had been rude and wondered why. Wes Adams meant nothing to her, yet he disturbed her. She had the strange feeling that he saw more with those unusual oceanic eyes than most people. He watched her as if she were an open book and he could read her every weakness.
Ridiculous. There were no weaknesses. Not anymore. She had learned to rely on Sloan Tallett and on no one else. She didn’t know, not in her conscious mind, that the very goodness of her marriage now blocked an open heart. Terry had loved her; Terry had been wonderful. Terry had left her in the terrible mess she was in now. If someone had realized what lay in the uncharted recesses of her heart, they might have pointed out to her that she was blaming love for pain; blaming Terry for his own death as desertion. And if she could see, her eyes would widen and she would wince with horror at the reasoning that had left her as cold and as hard as steel. But she didn’t see, and so she stiffened and went on.
And Wes Adams, the all but forgotten intruder who sat in her living room as if he belonged, was ruining the well-structured format of her life with his simple presence and cool words. It didn’t matter, she told herself. He would be gone soon. And so would the inane feeling he gave her that she was losing control in some unclear way. She was always in control of any situation.
“And of course Sloan always joins in too,” George was saying, his kindly gray eyes on her. He winked. “She’s the high point of the summer!”
They were all looking at her now, and she flushed guiltily. “I’m sorry, George. I’m afraid I wandered. What do I join in to make this high point of the summer?”
“The school’s annual summer dance!” Cassie hopped in impatiently. “Wes said he’d love to see you in a performance, and we told him he came at just the right time!”
“Oh,” Sloan murmured, annoyed to feel herself blushing again as she met Wes’s unfathomable, soul-piercing stare. What was the matter with her, she wondered impatiently. For the sake of the dance department she should be pushing the performance—glad of anyone who purchased a ticket and helped fill the immense auditorium. And by her own volition or not, Wes was a guest in her own home. A little cordiality wouldn’t hurt. She slowly smiled and found it wasn’t difficult at all when Wes curved his lips in return. “Our summer dance is quite a show,” she told him, her enthusiasm growing. “We have some wonderful students.”
He laughed easily. “I’ll be looking at the teacher.”
Absurd, but she felt herself blushing again, only this time the feeling wasn’t uncomfortable. “What are you doing back in Gettysburg, Wes?” she asked, anxious to change the topic of conversation to anything other than herself.
“Business,” he replied with a grimace. “And, of course, a little pleasure. This will always be home in a way. Mainly, I’m here on a buying trip—there’s a man on the outskirts of the city who I do a lot of buying from. He has a knack with up-and-coming Thoroughbreds.” Once again, Sloan was treated to a slow, subtly alluring smile. “At the moment,” he continued, “I can honestly say I’ve never had a more