Hero by Nature Read online

“Good night, Autumn.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her lingeringly. “I love you,” he whispered when he released her, and then he left hurriedly, while he could still make himself go.

  So now he knew, he thought a long time later, staring into his pool as he sat beside it, unable to sleep. Now he knew what was missing. Autumn loved him, but she still refused to admit that she needed him. And until she did, they could never have the relationship he wanted them to have. There would always be a part of herself that she held back from him. She didn’t trust him enough to allow herself to need him.

  It hurt. It hurt a lot. Because he needed her so desperately, and he was terribly afraid that he would never really have her.

  OUTWARDLY THEIR RELATIONSHIP changed little during the next two weeks. They spent their free time together, sometimes alone, sometimes with Jeff’s friends or Autumn’s. They attended the Jeremy Kane performance and were both caught up in the magic the skilled entertainer wove with his audience. Afterward they went to Jeff’s house and made love, and their magic was even more powerful than Kane’s.

  But Jeff was still painfully conscious of the restraints between them. He couldn’t stop himself from telling Autumn how much he loved her. He murmured the words when he kissed her good-night, spoke them into the telephone when he couldn’t see her, gasped them in the throes of passion. At first she’d been hesitant to respond in kind, but as the days passed, it seemed to become easier for her. She could tell him she loved him. She would not tell him that she needed him.

  It was the middle of March before Jeff finally convinced Autumn to go with him to Sarasota for a weekend with his family. It was his parent’s thirty-fifth wedding anniversary, and their friends were giving them a small reception on Saturday evening. “How will you introduce me?” Autumn asked him warily.

  “I’ll tell everyone that you’re the electrician I’ve been sleeping with,” he returned without a beat.

  “Jeff!”

  He laughed. “Well, really, Autumn, how do you think I’m going to introduce you? I thought I’d tell everyone that your name is Autumn Reed. Does that meet with your approval?”

  “I just don’t want you to give your parents the wrong idea about us,” she answered carefully. “It’s…it’s not like we’re engaged or anything.”

  “Honey, just because I’m taking you to meet my parents doesn’t mean they’ll think we’re engaged,” he argued, though she fancied there was a bit of wistfulness behind his words.

  “Then you’ve taken other women home to meet them?” She spoke lightly, trying to hide that she hated the very idea.

  “Well, no, but—”

  “So they will think I’m someone special to you.”

  “Autumn.” He took her hands in his, staring patiently down at her. “My parents know all about you. They know that I’m crazy in love with you and have been since I met you in October. They know that I hope to spend the rest of my life with you. They also know that there is no formal engagement between us, so you needn’t worry about that.”

  “You mean you told them—”

  “I’m very close to my parents,” Jeff interrupted firmly. “I don’t keep important events in my life secret from them. I’d hardly keep quiet about you.”

  “Oh, Jeff, what am I going to do with you?” She sighed in resignation.

  “I could answer that in detail,” he answered slowly, his warm smile lighting his eyes, “or I could take it as rhetorical and go on to the next subject.”

  “You’d better take it as rhetorical.”

  “Consider it done. Will you go to Sarasota with me next weekend?”

  “Yes, I’ll go.” She swallowed and tried to hide her attack of nerves behind bluff bravado. “But if you introduce me even once as ‘the little woman’…” She let her voice trail off meaningfully.

  He grinned. “How about ‘my better half’?”

  “You’d die.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He pulled her into his arms. “I’ll just call you the beautiful, fascinating, stubborn, capable, intriguing and oh-so-elusive woman that I love. How does that sound?”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Better just call me Autumn.”

  “Autumn,” he murmured and kissed her. “Autumn.” He kissed her again, longer this time. “Autumn…Autumn…Autumn.”

  “Jeff,” she whispered after the last lingering kiss, and pulled his head back down to hers.

  11

  KATHLEEN BRADFORD WAS an attractive, fifty-eight-year-old woman who was still deeply in love with her handsome, sixty-year-old husband of thirty-five years. She also absolutely adored her only child, seeming to be unaware that her “child” was a thirty-three-year-old doctor. “Jeff, dear, are you sure I can’t get you anything else to eat? You’re not still hungry?”

  “Thanks, Mom, but I can’t eat another bite. Believe me, four eggs, six slices of bacon, half a cantaloupe and three slices of toast is a perfectly adequate breakfast.” Jeff rolled his eyes comically at Autumn as he spoke fondly to the woman hovering over his chair.

  His mother refilled his coffee cup for the third time, then dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Just let me know if you need anything else, you hear? What about you, Autumn? More bacon? Toast?”

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Bradford, I’m fine.” Autumn smiled a bit weakly at the woman with Jeff’s blue eyes peering anxiously at her from beneath impeccably styled salt-and-pepper hair.

  “Now, Autumn, I’ve told you to call me Kathleen. Mrs. Bradford is much too formal for family.”

  Autumn’s smile grew weaker. “All right. Kathleen.”

  “Got any more of that fresh-squeezed orange juice, hon?” Charles Bradford asked, setting aside the morning newspaper he’d been scanning during breakfast, though it hadn’t kept him from contributing occasionally to the lively conversation that had gone on between his wife and son. Autumn had been rather quiet during the meal, watching the interplay between the Bradfords, while she’d made every effort to be polite. She and Jeff had left Tampa early that morning to join his parents for breakfast on their anniversary morning, and they planned to stay through lunch the next day.

  Kathleen bit her lip in obvious dismay at her husband’s request. “No, we drank every drop. But I’ll go make some more,” she added hastily, hurrying toward the kitchen.

  “That’s okay, Kathleen. You don’t have to—”

  But she was already gone, her activities conveyed to them by a flurry of sound from the kitchen. Charles turned an amusingly wry smile at his son, who returned the look with a low laugh. “You’ve set her off again,” Jeff accused his father.

  “Guess so.” Charles looked across the table at Autumn, clearly feeling it necessary to entertain his guest, though he seemed to be a somewhat shy man to whom casual conversation did not come easily. The successful businessman was lean and fit, darkly tanned, and Autumn could easily tell where Jeff had gotten his movie-screen handsome looks. Only the blue eyes had come from Kathleen; other than that, Jeff was the image of his hazel-eyed father. “How long have you been an electrician, Autumn?”

  Autumn glanced quickly at Jeff, remembering the moment he’d asked her the same question. His smile told her that he, too, remembered. “Five years,” she answered his father’s question.

  “You really like it?” Charles looked doubtful.

  She smiled at him, amused by his expression. “Yes, sir, I really like it.”

  Charles shook his head once. “I never was any good with that kind of thing myself. The boy here’s just like me. Not mechanical. Last time I tried to do anything electrical, I just about electrocuted myself.”

  “The boy” grinned and added, “I did the same thing when I was trying to fix a television set once. Forgot to unplug it.” He winced good-naturedly and added, “I haven’t touched anything electrical since, other than to plug it in and turn it on or off.”

  Autumn laughed softly. “I’ve been shocked a few times,” she admitted. “And to be honest, I hate to be
shocked. Fortunately, I’ve never been badly hurt.”

  “So how long you planning to do this sort of thing?” Charles inquired curiously.

  Autumn lifted a questioning eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

  “The electrical work,” Charles explained. “You planning to stay with it awhile longer, or is there something else you want to do?”

  “I like my job,” Autumn told him again. “I have another year before I can test for my master’s license, and then maybe I’ll start my own company someday. That won’t be for several years, though.”

  Charles frowned, obviously trying to understand her. “But what if you were to marry, have children?” he asked with a sidelong glance at Jeff.

  Jeff interceded quickly. “Dad, lots of wives and mothers work these days. Most of them, in fact. And not all for financial reasons. Many women work because they feel the need to establish their own identities outside the home.”

  “I never felt that way myself,” Kathleen commented, entering the room with a full pitcher of fresh-squeezed juice. “I was perfectly content making a nice home for my husband and my son. And I was always busy in community activities,” she continued with a smile at Autumn. “It’s nice to stay involved in the community.”

  “Women used to think that was enough,” Charles mused, glancing from Autumn to his wife as if comparing the two very different generations sitting at his breakfast table. “For thirty-five years Kathleen’s been at my side, taking care of our home. She was there for Jeff when he came home from school, room mother for his classes, den mother for his Boy Scout troops. Yet I never doubted that she had her own identity.”

  “Now, Charles, this isn’t the time for one of your discussions about the changing times,” Kathleen reproved him indulgently. “You have women on the management staff of your own company, and you’re known as an equal-opportunity employer. What was right for me isn’t necessarily right for everyone, and neither of us is saying it should be.”

  “That’s true,” Charles confessed. Still, he couldn’t seem to resist one more question on the subject to Autumn. “Did your mother work while you were growing up?”

  “No, she didn’t,” Autumn admitted uncomfortably. “Except to help Daddy out with his store occasionally.”

  “Autumn’s father owns a seed and feed store in Rose Bud, Arkansas,” Jeff inserted, smoothly changing the subject. “That’s close to Greer’s Ferry Lake, Dad. Remember the time we went camping there with Uncle Dan and Aunt Josie?”

  Charles nodded. “Good fishing lake. Beautiful scenery, too. My brother was career Air Force,” he explained to Autumn. “Retired at the Little Rock Air Force Base in Jacksonville. He and his family liked it so well they stayed. Still live there.”

  “Jacksonville’s not far from Rose Bud,” Autumn commented, relieved that the topic had changed so easily and grateful to Jeff for engineering it. “Jeff told me he had family in Arkansas. Quite a few Air Force people end up staying when they’re stationed there.”

  And then the conversation carried on for a time along those lines, contrasting the similarities and differences between Arkansas and Florida and the pros and cons of living in either state. But Autumn couldn’t quite forget the earlier discussion, nor could she help but notice how diligently Kathleen Bradford waited on her “menfolk.” Though Jeff seemed indulgently amused by his mother’s attentions, and made no effort to encourage her, Autumn couldn’t help wondering if he really enjoyed all that flattering attention.

  After breakfast Kathleen refused to allow either Autumn or Jeff to help with the dishes but insisted that Jeff show Autumn around. Knowing of her fascination with the circus, Jeff took her to the thirty-eight-acre estate of the late John Ringling—of Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus fame—who, in 1927, had made Sarasota the winter headquarters for his circus. There they toured the Ringling Residence, a thirty-room mansion resembling a Venetian palace, completed in 1926 at a cost of one and a half million dollars. Hand in hand, they also toured the John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art, built in Italian Renaissance style and housing an impressive collection of fourteenth-to eighteenth-century art, and then—Autumn’s favorite—the Museum of the Circus.

  They had a wonderful time, neither of them referring to the briefly uncomfortable scene at the breakfast table. Autumn didn’t know if Jeff avoided the subject because it bothered her or because he wasn’t aware of how much it had bothered her.

  They visited his parents again during the late afternoon, then went to the separate rooms they’d been assigned—without protest from Autumn, who wouldn’t have expected to sleep with Jeff in her parents’ home, either, despite her usual distaste for hypocrisy—to change for the anniversary party.

  Autumn had bought a new dress for the occasion on a shopping trip with Emily, who’d also bought a new dress for a special date with her now-steady escort, Webb. Autumn’s dress was a soft green, accenting her auburn hair and emerald eyes. The sleeves were long and the scooped neck quite modest, but still the garment managed to be seductive. Made of silk, it clung lovingly to her curves, making the most of her full breasts and tiny waist. She added black heels, then stared doubtfully into the full-length guest-room mirror, wondering if she’d made the right choice.

  “You are so beautiful.” Jeff’s hoarse voice took her by surprise; she hadn’t heard him come into the bedroom.

  She turned and looked at him, tempted to echo his words as she took in his finely tailored dark suit that emphasized his muscular fitness so nicely. “You shouldn’t be in here with the door closed,” she told him with mock sternness, ordering her heart to stop fluttering so wildly. “You’ll shock your mother.”

  “Then we won’t tell her,” he answered, stepping closer. “New dress?”

  “Yes.” She turned slowly for him. “Like it?”

  “Very much.” He slipped his arms around her. “And I love you.”

  Autumn’s arms closed around his neck in a sudden rush of near desperation. “I love you, too, Jeff,” she told him in a voice that surprised even her with its raw intensity.

  “Autumn.” He kissed her deeply, roughly, then held her a few inches away. “Is anything wrong?”

  “No.” She shook her head determinedly. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just felt like telling you that I love you.”

  “I’m glad.” His smile was spine-melting. “You don’t say it enough.”

  “Don’t I?” she asked without returning the smile.

  Sensing that she’d meant the question seriously, he lifted one hand to her cheek, keeping the other arm around her to hold her close. “You could say it with every breath and I wouldn’t hear it enough,” he told her, his voice deep and so very sincere.

  And then the hand on her cheek moved to bury itself in the glossy hair at the back of her head, his mouth coming down on hers with a hunger that never seemed to be abated, no matter how many times they were together. Autumn understood, since her own desire for him was as fresh and piercing as it had been from the first time he’d kissed her.

  Long minutes later Jeff laughed raggedly under his breath and set her firmly away from him. “We’d better stop this or we will end up shocking my mother,” he muttered regretfully. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Give me a couple of minutes to repair my makeup and I’ll join you downstairs,” she answered unsteadily after swallowing to clear her throat.

  He nodded, kissed her swiftly one more time, then left her to scowl despairingly at the tousled, starry-eyed woman in the mirror.

  Autumn’s concerns about people misinterpreting her relationship with Jeff proved justified at the anniversary party held at a local country club, of which Jeff’s parents were members. Jeff was well-known by his parents’ friends, most of whom had known him since he was a toddler, and they’d apparently been hoping to see him married off for some time. Though he continued to introduce her quite correctly as “my friend, Autumn Reed,” he might as well have added “the woman I love and want to marry,” Autumn thou
ght in exasperation. Something in his expression or his voice or his eyes when he said her name made people smile indulgently at her and all but pat her cheek with delight.

  “So you’re Jeff’s little lady,” one portly, red-nosed gentleman boomed loudly, making Autumn have to fight a wince. “It’s about time that boy found himself a mate. And aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

  “It’s so sweet to see the smile on Jeff’s face when he looks at you,” a blue-haired older woman told her later. “You make such a cute couple.”

  “You’re an electrician?” one Junior League-type society matron exclaimed in near horror after a brief conversation with Autumn when Jeff had been pulled away by his father and another man. “At least you’ll be able to get away from that when you marry Jeff. A doctor is such a nice catch, don’t you agree?”

  “How are you holding up, honey?” Jeff asked sympathetically as they grabbed an opportunity to converse with each other on the dance floor.

  “Are you aware that, as we speak, two-thirds of the population of Sarasota is watching us dance with sickly sweet smiles on their faces?” Autumn demanded in low-voiced frustration, holding on to her party smile with great effort. “I have been called ‘little lady,’’a pretty little thing’ and ‘dear girl.’ I’ve been told that you and I make a ‘cute couple’ and that you’re a ‘nice catch.’ I’ve heard about all the women who’ve ‘set their caps’ for you, and all the ‘matchmaking mamas’ who’ve wanted you to marry their daughters. I’ve been asked if I was aware of the demands made on a doctor’s wife, and wasn’t I glad that I wouldn’t have to work at manual labor once I have you to support me. One woman even asked if twins run in my family.”

  “Well, do they?” he asked with a not-very-well-concealed smile.

  Her answer was short, succinct and would have appalled all the little old ladies smiling so approvingly at her from around the room had they heard the murmured words. Jeff laughed aloud, causing those smiles to broaden. “So,” he managed to say when he’d caught his breath, “how are you enjoying the party?”