Night Whispers Page 4

  “Thanks for your help. I’ll see you later,” Kelsey said as she tried to stack the two laundry baskets together.

  Mitch grabbed one away from her and said, “Let me help.”

  Kelsey moved toward the heavy oak door that led into the hallway. The hall extended along one side of the house, from back to front. She always used it to access the kitchen and, of course, the basement laundry room. Mitch, however, walked toward the other door, which led into his living room. She followed him.

  There were two entrances to Mitch’s apartment, one from the main foyer of the house, and the other from the kitchen. Kelsey had felt free to enter his private rooms to clean and decorate while he was away, but had not set foot in this area since his return. The first thing she noticed was the clutter.

  “Good grief, have you put anything away since you got home?”

  Papers and pamphlets covered the coffee table, and six months’ worth of junk mail erupted from the top of the trash can. She figured he was using the living room as a temporary office because the room he used as a study was already crammed with books, papers and files.

  “You need a maid.”

  “Volunteering?”

  “Not on your life,” she retorted. “I remember how you nearly ripped my head off when I was twelve and I tried to clean off that desk you and Nathan used to share.”

  “Don’t go there, Kelsey. You purposely threw out a lot of my mail. And you tossed one of Nathan’s songs.”

  “Well,” she admitted, “I was getting a little sick of you rereading those notes from Melanie Thompson. And the day Nathan actually learns to play the guitar and write music will be the day I sprout wings and fly home.”

  “Thank goodness he gave up on that,” Mitch agreed with a grin.

  Kelsey returned the bright smile, thinking how unfair it was for a man to have those gorgeous dimples and sensual lips. She walked past him as he held open the door to the foyer with his foot.

  Mitch walked up the steep wooden stairs right behind Kelsey. Watching her walk in tight jeans was a joy any man would want to behold, and he enjoyed every moment of it. He found himself wondering once again when she had filled out so beautifully. Before he thought better of it, he asked her. “Kelsey, when exactly did you change?”

  She laughed lightly. “I haven’t changed, Mitch. I’m still the rotten little teaser I was all those years ago. I’ve just learned some self-control.”

  “I meant physically.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You mean, when did I fill out?”

  Mitch nodded. He really didn’t know why he’d asked her—it seemed stupid to come right out and admit to her that he’d noticed her looks. The woman was already too confident. “You’re…so different than you were.”

  “I’m a late bloomer, I guess. Mom said she was the same way and she kept promising me that one day I’d wake up and not look like a Popsicle stick with a head on it. She was right.”

  She most certainly was. Kelsey was curvy and feminine, soft and supple. He found himself thinking about how perfectly their bodies would fit together, but realized he could get totally lost if he let his mind travel down that road. And the fact that he was having these thoughts about little Kelsey Logan made them even worse!

  “Anyway, I realized I had ‘arrived’ when I was a sophomore in college and was out running. The captain of the football team ran into a goalpost when I went by. I didn’t know why until my friends told me it was because he was staring at me.”

  “What did you do?” he asked. “Reenact the whole humiliating event for your dorm that night?”

  Kelsey frowned. “I wasn’t a ten-year-old anymore, Mitch.”

  “I’m sorry,” he admitted, knowing he’d offended her. “I’m sure you didn’t laugh at him.”

  She shook her head. “I should say not. The poor guy ended up with a dislocated shoulder. I felt so bad I went out with him several times, and we had absolutely nothing in common.”

  “Poor thing,” he murmured, “going from plain-Jane to queen of the prom overnight, and forced to go on several dates with the captain of the college football team.”

  “Well,” she laughed, “I guess it wasn’t so bad at that.”

  Mitch looked around her apartment as they entered. He hadn’t seen it since she had moved in and had to admit it looked great. Kelsey’s talent with plants was evidenced by the amount of greenery, and pictures of her family were everywhere. He paused to look at the latest photos of her parents, trying to remember how long it had been since he’d seen them.

  A wicker patio set stood in a sunny corner by the rear bay window, and he walked around it to glance outside. “No wonder you work in the yard so much. You have the best view in the house.”

  Kelsey moved next to him. “You have to admit, I did a good job. Aren’t you glad I took the initiative?”

  “You always do. Jump first, look later,” he said steadily.

  “Like you used to.” She dared him to deny it. He didn’t try.

  They fell silent and Kelsey suddenly realized just how close together they’d been standing. She shivered a little as his arm brushed her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her hair, and she finally looked up into his sculpted face. He wasn’t looking out the window anymore. Instead he stared at her intently.

  A thick, dark lock of hair hung down on Mitch’s forehead. Unable to resist, Kelsey reached up to brush it with the back of her hand. She couldn’t seem to pull her fingers away. The moment stretched as Kelsey stared into his blue eyes. He had dark, sooty lashes that were too long for a man, and his lids lowered slightly as his gaze dropped to study her lips. She sensed he was thinking of kissing her. Kelsey wanted him to—at that moment, she was dying for him to—but he didn’t.

  Mitch drew in a ragged breath. Expectation filled the air, fueled by the unexpected touch of Kelsey’s soft hand. A rush of excitement surged in his chest, until he remembered whose soft, feminine, sweet-smelling body he was reacting to. He stepped back and walked to the door.

  “Mitch?”

  He stopped with his hand on the knob but didn’t turn around.

  “Thank you for your help,” she said softly.

  “You’re welcome, Kelsey.”

  3

  A FEW HOURS LATER, Mitch still wondered how he could possibly even have contemplated kissing Kelsey. What if he had given in to his impulse and done it? Considering how much he’d been thinking about her, and how his body responded every time she was in the same room, he imagined they’d have spent the entire afternoon in bed.

  Mitch indulged himself, imagining for a few seconds the intense pleasure they could give each other. Then he forced the mental pictures away. Because that was never going to happen.

  It wasn’t just that she was Nate’s sister. And it wasn’t just that she’d terrorized him for several years. Mitch had known since he was seventeen that Kelsey delighted in tormenting him because she had a crush on him. But he’d never let on that he knew. She’d basically been a cute kid, in spite of her brattiness, and he’d never have humiliated her or denigrated her feelings. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one in the family who’d noticed how little Kelsey felt.

  Mitch would never forget the conversation he overheard one evening many years before in the Logans’ house. He’d come home early from basketball practice. Marge and Ralph had been sitting with Aunt Betsy, Marge’s older sister, who was the nosiest, nastiest busybody he’d ever known. None of the adults in the kitchen had heard him come in the front door.

  Mitch could still hear every word of that long-ago conversation.

  “REALLY, MARGE,” Betsy said, “I think it’s shameful that you’re putting your daughter at risk like this.”

  “For the last time, Mitch is not a threat to Kelsey.”

  Mitch froze on the stairs, shocked into silence at the mention of his own name. Why would anyone think he was a threat to Kelsey?

  “That boy is a risk to any girl who comes in contact with him. I heard all abou
t him getting caught in the Thompson girl’s bedroom in the middle of the night.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Betsy, it wasn’t her bedroom, it was the family’s pool house. The two of them went for a late-night swim. Weren’t you ever young?” Ralph muttered.

  “Bedroom, pool house, it doesn’t matter where. The point is, that boy is trouble. Marge, I know you’ve got a good heart, and Mitch’s mother was your best friend in college. But that doesn’t mean you’re responsible for him. Good gracious, he’s practically lived in this house for the past few years! If his own parents can’t handle him, why should they expect you to?”

  Mitch held his breath while he waited for her answer. Even after spending months at a time with the Logans, he was still never sure if there would come a day when they’d decide he wasn’t worth the trouble and ship him off to someone else—or to military school. After all, why should Ralph and Marge be any different from his own parents?

  “Betsy, that’s enough. Mitch is practically a part of this family, and he’s one of the most decent, honorable young men I’ve ever known,” Marge retorted.

  “Tell that to the Wilsons…you know, the ones whose car he ‘borrowed’ three summers ago?”

  Mitch groaned, not surprised she’d brought up that old incident.

  “He’s different now,” Marge said. “Mitch was very rebellious when he first started coming to us. As fond as I am of Carol, I have to say she hasn’t been much of a mother to that boy. She and Richard are much too self-involved to have children. How could a child grow up in that atmosphere and not resent it?”

  “That doesn’t change the fact,” Betsy said shrilly, “that your Kelsey is in danger. That boy is too handsome by half, and Kelsey is a pretty little thing. She wears her heart on her sleeve for him and one of these days…”

  Mitch tightened his grip on the stair railing, astounded that even a spiteful, narrow-minded old biddy like Aunt Betsy would believe him capable of seducing a twelve-year-old kid.

  “That boy would never repay our trust in him by abusing our daughter. If I am wrong about this, then I am absolutely no judge of character,” Ralph retorted. “Any man, young or old, who would take advantage of a young girl who lives under the same roof, who’s practically his sister, would deserve to be horsewhipped! And our Mitch is not like that.”

  He liked hearing himself referred to as “our Mitch.”

  “Now, this is Mitch’s home,” Ralph continued. “We trust him, and we love him. He is here not out of any friendship with his parents—he is here because he’s part of our family. And unless you treat him with the respect he deserves, you can just stay away, Betsy.”

  Mitch was shocked at the fervent defense. Rushing upstairs to the room he shared with Nathan, he suddenly felt confident and secure that here, at least, were people who would always love him. People he would make proud. People he would never, never betray.

  THRUSTING THE MEMORY of the incident out of his head with an angry shake, Mitch threw himself onto his living room sofa. Here it was, fourteen years later, and he was close to confirming Aunt Betsy’s dire predictions.

  Any man who took advantage of an innocent young woman living under his own roof was a scumbag. Kelsey’s family would never forgive him for the utter breach of trust if he gave in to his attraction and got involved with his tenant. Hell, Mitch would never forgive himself!

  So, it would not happen. Period.

  “HE HAS A DATE.”

  Kelsey said the words out loud, talking to her own empty apartment. She shouldn’t have been spying. If she’d been minding her own business she would never have had to see that gorgeous, perfect-looking blonde unfold herself out of her expensive car and mince her way to the front door of the brownstone. If Kelsey hadn’t opened her apartment door and peeked around the corner and down the stairs, she wouldn’t have had to watch Mitch greet the woman with a kiss and lead her into his apartment.

  “Step into my parlor said the spider to the fly,” Kelsey muttered as she sat on the wicker love seat and stared at the backyard in the fading light of early evening.

  Kelsey had been trying all afternoon to forget about those moments earlier in the day when she and Mitch had…connected. That was the only suitable word. There had been a connection, a spark. They had both felt it. And he had walked out.

  She told herself she was glad. Being kissed by Mitch might be nice, a lovely moment, but nothing could come of it. They lived under the same roof, saw each other all the time. And it would be awkward to bump into each other in the kitchen pantry or anywhere else if they’d given in to an impetuous kiss. So it was just as well that kiss had occurred only in her heated imagination. It’s not as though anything else would have happened anyway, she reasoned. She and Mitch were casual friends, almost like family, and a kiss was, after all, just a kiss.

  Who was she kidding? Kissing Mitch would be divine.

  Kelsey heard a high-pitched laugh from downstairs and punched her fist into the pillow she’d been holding. The woman sounded shrill, grating, and Kelsey could not imagine why Mitch would be interested in someone like her. Other than the legs, the hair, the body, the face, the obvious wealth and elegance, what did the woman have to offer?

  “Lead me to your parlor, said the spider to the fly is more like it,” she said sourly.

  Mitch was, after all, ideal prey for that type. She really couldn’t believe some long-legged, perfectly coifed female hadn’t snared him in her web yet. He was talented, gifted really, friendly, personable, utterly drop-dead gorgeous, and single. And, oh yeah, wealthy. What self-respecting, husband-snaring spider could resist him?

  Kelsey had no idea who the woman was, didn’t even know her name. But she hated her.

  “MITCH, YOU WERE GONE SO LONG, I missed you so,” Amanda said as she draped herself upon the sofa.

  Mitch watched her, not attracted by her languid grace, as he used to be, but instead somewhat amused. Amanda’s every move seemed choreographed—she always managed to frame herself well. For a split second he compared her to the several other women he had dated since moving to Baltimore. He suddenly realized they were all just like her: lovely, elegant, confident and sophisticated. Why, then, was she suddenly so unappealing?

  “I’m quite certain you didn’t spend the past six months pining for me,” he said with a dry chuckle as he poured her a drink.

  “Of course not, you know me better than that. But the social whirl just palled without you.”

  He handed her the glass. “Did I miss anything interesting?”

  “Billingsley’s retirement dinner was diverting,” Amanda explained after taking a sip of her gin and tonic. “And Fern Handley has been having a torrid affair with one of her English Lit students. It’s all over campus.”

  Mitch shrugged. He could have been listening to a taped conversation from six months ago. Amanda sat on the board of trustees at Wilson College, where he used to teach. The college was a veritable hotbed of gossip and intrigue. Who was sleeping with whom, who would get tenure and whose research project would get funding were the only topics of conversation at the various dinners and parties. He’d tried hard to care about it all when he first started teaching, without success. He wasn’t cut out for the petty intrigue of it all.

  “When are you going to give your guest lecture at the college?” Amanda asked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Mitch replied as he walked across the room. “I haven’t even started thinking about that. I’ve got loads of documentation to sort through first. Right now I’m trying to finish up the articles I’ve been writing for the Sun.”

  “Yes, of course,” she replied. “I’ve been following them while you were gone. You had the whole city in tears when you wrote about the orphan girls.”

  Mitch sensed the boredom in her tone. She wasn’t the least bit interested in talking about his work. Amanda never much cared to stray off her favorite topic of conversation: herself.

  He sat on a leather wing chair, swirled his drink and waited
for her to get to the point of her visit. He was very patient, a trait he’d worked long and hard to achieve, and within a short time Amanda was tapping her nails on the edge of the sofa, betraying her irritation at his aloof greeting. Finally she walked over and perched on the arm of his chair, resting her fingers on his arm. He glanced down at the perfectly manicured hand, wondering if those long, bright red nails would last for five minutes in Kelsey’s garden. Probably not.

  She offered him a coy smile. “I did hope you might be at least a little pleased to see me.”

  He should have been. After six months of intense research and practically no social life, he should have been enticed by the kind of distraction Amanda had always been willing to provide. But he just couldn’t muster the interest.

  “Refresh my memory,” he said. “Don’t I recall you flinging a very expensive Oriental vase at my head the last time we were together? That was right after we ‘agreed’ not to see each other anymore, right?”

  He watched her bright red lips tighten and pull down at the corners. She was so spoiled. That was another thing Mitch hadn’t been able to handle while they dated. Amanda had never been denied anything by her father, and she wanted a man who would provide the same mindless devotion. Mitch wasn’t that kind of man. And he never would be.

  “Really, darling, I would have thought you’d have forgotten all about my little bout of jealousy. I just couldn’t stand it that you didn’t want me to join you in China.”

  As if that was what had broken them apart. Amanda’s overreaction to the trip was the excuse for the breakup, not the reason. They’d only dated a few months, and never exclusively, because of Mitch’s realization that beneath the polish the woman was shallow as hell. The attraction had palled long before the trip to China came up.

  “I think you and I both knew that was never an option.”