Courtship of the Recluse

She tucked her legs under her skirt and gnawed at her lower lip. "Then why were you so rough? It was the first time you've ever been anything with me but a perfect gentleman. It frightened me. You're so strong." She threw him an accusing look. "Don't you see what you've done? It's inevitable that two people living in the same house are going to be at odds sometimes, but from now on I'll never feel completely safe. If you'd fired me, or even hit me "

"I'd never hit you." The words were swift and emotional and she had no doubt he spoke the truth. He rubbed his forehead and ran his fingers though his hair until it stood on end. "I know what you mean. I betrayed your trust. And I insulted you by being such a brute. I didn't mean for it to be that way. I was so angry, and Claudette picked the worst time to..." He shook his head. "I have no excuse. I was wrong and I admit it. I told you. It will never happen again."

Obviously he did realize the consequences of his actions. His anger was unfounded, but she had to accept some of the blame for his method of approach. If she hadn't flirted with him, kissing her probably wouldn't have come to mind. Looking back, her words did sound like a challenge. He moved toward her, his expression far from bland. In fact, tortured would be a better description. Yet when he spoke, his voice was decisive.

"Look, Cynthia. If you think you'd be happier with Claudette, I won't stand in your way, but I want to make it clear that I don't want you to go. You're the best friend I've ever had and things around here could never be the same without you."

She gaped up at him, finally snapping jaws shut. "Best friend? I never knew you thought of me as anything but a housekeeper - an opinionated one at that."

He frowned. "There's nothing wrong with having a different opinion. It only proves you have a mind of your own." He stared down at his coffee with a sour expression. "I've always been a little inept at expressing my feelings."

A little? That was the understatement of the year. Yet, he stood before her, conceding his shortcomings frankly. She smiled up at him. "Practice makes perfect," she quipped.

He stared at her. "Does that mean you're giving me another chance? You're staying?"

She sighed heavily and slid off the bed. "I suppose so." She slipped her shoes on. "I left supper half done. I'd better go finish it."