Unfinished Business - Nora Roberts Page 0,61

hear. Almost. “Shouldn’t that make it easier?”

“No. I wish it did. I can’t marry you, Brady, until I look into the mirror and recognize myself.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“No, you can’t.” She dragged her hands through her hair. “I barely do myself. All I know is that I can’t give you what you want. I may never be able to.”

“We’re good together, Van.” He had to fight to keep from holding too tight. “Damn it, you know that.”

“Yes.” She was hurting him. She could hardly bear it. “Brady, there are too many things I don’t understand about myself. Too many questions I don’t have the answers to. Please, I can’t talk about marriage, about lifetimes, until I do.”

“My feelings aren’t going to change.”

“I hope not.”

He reeled himself back, slowly. “You’re not going to get away from me this time, Van. If you cut and run, I’ll come after you. If you try to sneak off, I’ll be right there.”

Pride rose instantly to wage war with regret. “You make that sound like a threat.”

“It is.”

“I don’t like threats, Brady.” She tossed her hair back in a gesture as much challenge as annoyance. “You should remember I don’t tolerate them.”

“And you should remember I make good on them.” Very deliberately, he took her by the shoulders and pulled her against him. “You belong to me, Vanessa. Sooner or later you’re going to get that through your head.”

The thrill raced up her spine, as it always did when she saw that dangerous light in his eyes. But her chin came up. “I belong to myself first, Brady. Or I intend to. You’ll have to get that through your head. Then, maybe, we’ll have something.”

“We have something now.” When his mouth came to hers, she tasted the anger, the frustration, and the need. “You can’t deny it.”

“Then let it be enough.” Her eyes were as dark and intent as his. “I’m here, with you. While I am, there’s nothing and no one else.” Her arms went around him, enfolding. “Let it be enough.”

But it wasn’t enough. Even as he rolled onto her, as his mouth fastened hungrily on hers, as his blood fired, he knew it wasn’t enough.

In the morning, when she woke—alone, with his scent on sheets that were already growing cold—she was afraid it would never be.

Chapter Eleven

Nice, very nice, Vanessa thought as Annie worked her way through one of her beloved Madonna’s compositions. She had to admit it was a catchy tune, bold and sly by turns. She’d had to simplify it a bit for Annie’s inexperienced fingers, but the heart was still there. And that was what counted.

Perhaps the improvement in Annie’s technique wasn’t radical, but there was improvement. And, as far as enthusiasm went, Annie Crampton was her prize student.

Her own attitude had changed, as well, Vanessa admitted. She hadn’t known she would enjoy quite so much influencing young hearts and minds with music. She was making a difference here—perhaps only a small one so far, but a difference.

Then there was the added benefit of the lessons helping her keep her mind off Brady. At least for an hour or two every day.

“Well done, Annie.”

“I played it all the way through.” The wonder on Annie’s face was worth the few sour notes she had hit. “I can do it again.”

“Next week.” Vanessa picked up Annie’s book just as she heard the front screen slam. “I want you to work on this next lesson. Hi, Joanie.”

“I heard the music.” She shifted Lara to her other hip. “Annie Crampton, was that you playing?”

Braces flashed. “I played it all the way through. Miss Sexton said I did a good job.”

“And you did. I’m impressed—especially because she could never teach me anything beyond ‘Heart and Soul.’ ”

Vanessa placed a hand on Annie’s head. “Mrs. Knight didn’t practice.”

“I do. And my mom says I’ve learned more in three weeks than I did in three months up at the music store.” She flashed a final grin as she gathered up her books. “And it’s more fun, too. See you next week, Miss Sexton.”

“I really was impressed,” Joanie said as Annie slammed out the front door.

“She has good hands.” She held out her own for the baby. “Hello, Lara.”

“Maybe you could give her lessons one day.”

“Maybe.” She cuddled the baby.

“So, other than Annie, how are the lessons going? You’re up to, what—?”

“Twelve students. And that’s my absolute limit.” She pressed her nose against Lara’s and had the baby giggling. “Absolutely. But, all