look at the disarray on the counter. “What is this?”
Her mouth moved into a pout. “It’s supposed to be a tuna casserole.”
“You’re having trouble putting a tuna casserole together. And, personally, I hope you never learn how to do it.”
“That’s not the point.”
Struck by tenderness, he brushed at a streak of flour on her cheek. “What is the point?”
“It’s a little thing, maybe even a stupid thing. But if I can’t even do this—” she shoved and sent an onion scampering down the counter “—how can I work out the bigger ones?”
“Do you think I want to marry you so that I can have a hot meal every night?”
“No. Do you think I want to marry you and feel inept and useless?”
Truly exasperated, he gestured toward the counter. “Because you don’t know what to do with a can of tuna?”
“Because I don’t know how to be a wife.” When her voice rose, she struggled to calm it. Perhaps Lara was too young, and too interested in her pans and cans, to detect an argument, but Vanessa had lived through too many of her own. “And, as much as I care for you, I don’t know if I want to be. There’s one thing I do well, Brady, and that’s my music.”
“No one’s asking you to give that up, Van.”
“And when I go on tour? When I’m gone weeks at a time, when I have to devote endless hours to rehearsals and practicing? What kind of marriage would we have, Brady, in between performances?”
“I don’t know.” He looked down at his niece, who was contentedly placing cans inside of pots. “I didn’t know you were seriously considering going on tour again.”
“I have to consider it. It’s been a part of my life for too long not to.” Calmer now, she went back to dicing vegetables. “I’m a musician, Brady, the same way you’re a doctor. What I do doesn’t save lives, but it does enrich them.”
He pushed an impatient hand through his dark hair. He was in the business of soothing doubts and fears, as much as he was in the business of healing bodies. Why couldn’t he soothe Vanessa’s?
“I know what you do is important, Van. I admire it. I admire you. What I don’t see is why your talent would have to be an obstacle to our being together.”
“It’s just one of them,” she murmured.
He took her arm, slowly turning her to face him. “I want to marry you. I want to have children with you and make a home for them. We can do that here, where we both belong, if you just trust me.”
“I need to trust myself first.” She took a bracing breath. “I leave for Cordina next week.”
His hand slid away from her arm. “Cordina?”
“Princess Gabriella’s annual benefit.”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“I’ve agreed to give a performance.”
“I see.” Because he needed to do something, he opened a cupboard and took out a glass. “And when did you agree?”
“I signed almost two weeks ago.”
His fingers tensed on the glass. “And didn’t mention it.”
“No, I didn’t mention it.” She wiped her hands on her thighs. “With everything that was happening between us, I wasn’t sure how you would react.”
“Were you going to wait until you were leaving for the airport, or were you just going to send me a postcard when you got there? Damn it, Van.” He barely controlled the urge to smash the glass against the wall. “What the hell kind of games have you been playing with me? Was all this just killing time, lighting up an old flame?”
She went pale, but her voice was strong. “You know better.”
“All I know is that you’re leaving.”
“It’s only a single performance, a few days.”
“And then?”
She turned to look out the window. “I don’t know. Frank, my manager, is anxious to put a tour together. That’s in addition to some special performances I’ve been asked to do.”
“In addition,” he repeated. “You came here with an ulcer because you could barely make yourself go out on stage, because you pushed yourself too far too often. And you’re already talking about going back and doing it again.”
“It’s something I have to work out for myself.”
“Your father—”
“Is dead,” she cut in. “He can’t influence me to perform. I hope you won’t try to influence me not to.” She took a calming breath, but it didn’t help. “I don’t believe I pushed myself too far. I did what I needed to do. All I want is the chance to decide what that