The Way to a Man's Heart

  “We introduced ourselves,” Meghan explained.

  Grey’s deep blue eyes revealed his disapproval, which surprised Meghan all the more. From everything he’d been saying and doing, it was obvious he didn’t want Meghan to have anything to do with his colleague. But his efforts to keep them apart only served to pique Meghan’s interest.

  “There are some people I’d like you to meet,” Grey stated possessively, slipping his arm around Meghan’s waist. “If you’ll excuse us, Pamela.”

  “Of course,” Pamela murmured, but some of the stiffness returned to her voice. “It was nice meeting you, Meghan.”

  “You, too,” she answered, genuinely meaning it. “We’ll talk again soon.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Grey tensed and then led Meghan away. Although it could have been her imagination, it seemed that he was unnecessarily eager to remove her from the other woman’s presence.

  An hors d’oeuvre table had been set up, and several of the guests were milling around there, talking. Meghan recognized a couple of professors from her few visits to the Friends campus, but the others were all strangers.

  It soon became apparent that there wasn’t anyone in particular Grey meant to introduce her to and that he’d used the ploy as an excuse to get Meghan away from Dr. Riverside. He eased them into line and handed Meghan a small plate and napkin.

  Once they’d served themselves, Grey escorted her into the family room. Only one other couple had opted to sit there, and they were on the other side of the room, deeply involved in their own conversation. Grey directed Meghan to the sofa, sitting next to her but twisting around so that his back was braced against the armrest and he could look at her.

  “I suppose you’re full of questions now,” he muttered disparagingly.

  “No,” Meghan fibbed. Her head was buzzing, wanting answers, but she’d intended to ask them in her own good time.

  “There never has been anything between me and Pamela, no matter what she told you,” he volunteered, his voice elevated and sharp. “Never.”

  “She didn’t suggest that there was.”

  Grey sagged with relief as the tension slackened between his shoulder blades. “Pamela’s ripe for marriage and she’s going to make some man an excellent wife—but not me!”

  He said this with such vehemence that Meghan nearly swallowed her cracker whole. “I see,” she said, not meeting his look.

  Grey paused and studied her through eyes that had narrowed suspiciously. “I understand now why you dislike it so much when I say that,” he mumbled, clearly all the more troubled. “Exactly what did she tell you?”

  “Nothing much.” There hadn’t been time.

  He paused and briefly rubbed the back of his neck. “Pamela and I have been part of the university’s literature department for several years. We’ve worked closely together, and I suppose it’s only natural for her to assume certain things. Our backgrounds are similar, and through no fault of our own we’ve often been coupled together.” He rearranged the appetizers on his plate, shifting them around as if doing so was vital to their discussion.

  “She’s in love with you.”

  Grey’s head shot up so fast, Meghan wondered if he’d strained his neck. “She told you that?”

  “She didn’t need to. I realized it almost from the moment we walked in here tonight.”

  “I’ve never done anything to encourage her, Meghan. I swear to you that’s true. We’ve been thrown together socially for years, and I suspect that several of the university staff have assumed that the two of us were romantically involved. But that isn’t true—I promise you it isn’t.”

  “Okay,” she said, taking a bite of a cheese-stuffed cherry tomato. “Hmm, this is delicious. Are you going to eat yours?”

  Grey’s gaze was disbelieving, as though he couldn’t quite believe that she could comment on an hors d’oeuvre when the fate of their budding relationship hung in the balance. “You mean you aren’t angry?”

  “Should I be?”

  “No,” he claimed fervently, pushing his hand through his hair until his fingers made deep grooves in the dark mane. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to be!”

  “Like I said before, I’m not angry.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” She reached for the cheese-stuffed cherry tomato on his plate. If he didn’t want it, she did. “As far as I can see, there isn’t any reason to be jealous, either. So I won’t be.”

  His jaw sagged open as though he expected an argument and was almost disappointed when Meghan didn’t give him one.

  ***

  “Grey, you don’t have to do this,” Meghan urged, her gaze holding his. She still had trouble believing that he’d allowed her two youngest brothers to talk him into this craziness. It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and Meghan had a free evening in the middle of the week, which was rare indeed. Sherry had given her the night off to compensate for having her work on the holiday.

  “To be honest, I’m not quite sure how they talked me into this, either,” Grey replied, chuckling lightly, “but it’s something I’d like to do—especially since you’re able to come with us.”

  He parked his car in front of her family home, and the minute he did, Chad and Danny burst out the door as if they couldn’t get away fast enough.

  “It isn’t like the boys never get to go to the movies,” Meghan reminded him. “They should never have phoned you and asked you to take them.”

  “From what Chad said, they needed someone over seventeen to accompany them because this movie has a high degree of violence.”

  “Brian’s over seventeen.”

  “He’s busy.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “Meghan”—he reached for her hand—“I want to do this. I haven’t been to a movie in years, and this was the perfect excuse to see Chainsaw Murder, Part Twenty-three.”

  “But you didn’t see the others, and if you had, I’m fairly certain you wouldn’t be interested in the sequel. In fact, I’m absolutely positive you’re going to hate this movie.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  “Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.” If what Grey said was true and he hadn’t been to a movie in years, then he was about to receive the shock of his life. Horror films weren’t what they once were. There were blood and guts and gore enough to affect even the most hard-hearted.

  “Hi, Professor,” Danny greeted him, as he leaped into the backseat of Grey’s car with the enthusiasm of a herd of charging elephants. “We’re really glad you’re taking Chad and me to the movies, aren’t we, Chad?”

  “Yeah.” Chad’s enthusiasm wasn’t nearly as keen as his brother’s. “But I didn’t know Meghan was coming along,” he added, eyeing his sister skeptically.

  “I felt I should, since you two blackmailed Grey into this evening’s outing. Whose bright idea was it to call him, anyway?”

  “Danny’s,” Chad shouted.

  “Chad’s,” Danny retorted in the same loud voice as his brother’s.

  “I don’t mind,” Grey insisted, reminding Meghan a second time that he’d been a willing victim of her brothers’ scheme.

  “But I saw the previews to this movie,” Meghan told him. “It’s really bloody and violent.”

  “I can stand a little blood.”

  “Yeah, so can I,” Chad said, with the eagerness only a teenager could understand.

  “Me, too,” Danny chimed in.

  “Well, as long as it isn’t my own blood, I guess I’m outvoted,” Meghan murmured, accepting her fate.

  Chad released a huge sigh of relief. “I was afraid when I saw Meghan that she was going to force us to go see something else, like a love story. Yuck!”

  “It could be worse,” Danny muttered under his breath. “Meghan could have insisted we see a musical.”

  “Come on, you guys, it’s not that bad.” Grey was good to her brothers. This wasn’t the first time he’d gone out of his
way to take them somewhere. Her own mother was half in love with him herself, and it was little wonder. Grey had been to the house twice, and each time he’d brought her roses and faithfully mailed her a thank-you card for having him over for dinner. If Grey had set out to win over her family, he couldn’t have done a better job. They were all as crazy about him as she was. In some ways, it troubled Meghan that he catered to them all. But it was only natural that, as an only child, he would be attracted to her fun-loving family. He worked so hard to be a part of them—playing chess with her father, subjecting himself to football with her younger brothers. Deep inside her heart, Meghan was thrilled that he cared enough to strive to be one of them. Yet a small, doubting part of herself worried that it was her family that Grey was attracted to, and that being with her was just a bonus. As much as possible, however, Meghan tried to ignore the negative thoughts.

  Grey found a suitable parking place at the Wichita Mall and escorted them into the cinema.

  “We don’t have to stay with you two, do we?” Danny asked, once he was loaded down with popcorn and a drink. “We’d look like a bunch of wimps if we had to sit with you guys.”

  “We can sit on our own, can’t we?” Chad repeated his brother’s concern.

  “Sit where we can see you, that’s all I ask,” Meghan answered for Grey.

  “Why?” Chad and Danny demanded together. “We aren’t little kids, you know.”

  “In case something happens and we have to leave early, I want to know where you are so I don’t have to rove the aisles to find you,” she insisted.

  The boys rolled their eyes and then glared at each other as though they suspected Meghan had been talking to their mother too frequently. If they had any further protests, they chose to forget them and hurry off on their own.

  Carrying the popcorn and drinks, Grey paused at the back of the theater. “Is there anyplace special you want to sit?” he asked Meghan.

  “Near the back, so when the blood and guts start flowing, I can make a quick escape.” Grey chose seats in the second-to-last row. In contrast, Chad and Danny were in the third row from the front so that the huge white screen loomed in front of them. If they were any closer, their noses would have touched it. Neither one, it seemed, wanted to miss any of the gory details. Once seated, Meghan’s two brothers twisted around, and when they saw their sister, they each gave a short, perfunctory wave.

  When Grey seemed sure Meghan was comfortable, he handed her a box of popcorn. She shoved a handful of kernels into her mouth, chewing as fast as possible. She figured she should eat what she could now, because once the movie started she wouldn’t have the stomach for it.

  The lights dimmed and Meghan held her breath while the credits started to roll across the screen. The minute the violence started, Meghan covered her eyes and scooted so far down in her seat that her forehead was level with the backs of the chairs in front of her.

  “Meghan,” Grey whispered. “Are you all right?”

  “No.”

  He scrunched down, too, so that his face was even with her own. “Do you want to leave?”

  “Chad and Danny would never forgive me.” She kept her eyes closed. “Is the girl dead yet?”

  “The girl?”

  “The one in the movie,” Meghan whispered heatedly. Who else could she possibly mean, for heaven’s sake?

  “Yeah, and her friend, too.”

  “Oh thank goodness.” Meghan uncovered her eyes and sat upright. “I’m going to have nightmares all week because of this stupid movie.”

  Grey straightened and then looped his arm around her back, cupping her shoulder. “Does this help?”

  She smiled into the darkness and nodded.

  “And this?” Gently he pressed her head close to his shoulder.

  “That’s even better.” Meghan leaned her head against the cushion of his chest as he shared his warmth and his strength with her. Only when she was so close to Grey could Meghan ignore the grisly details of the graphically played-out murder story.

  Content, Meghan looked up at Grey and their gazes met in the dark. Grey gently smiled down at her, and the movie, at least for Meghan, faded into oblivion.

  What surprised Meghan most was how much a smile from Grey could affect her. Her heart, which had been beating hard anyway, accelerated, stopped cold, and then started up again. She longed for him to kiss her, and her eyes must have told him as much, yet she could feel Grey’s resistance. Meghan couldn’t blame him—she was asking for the absurd. They were in a crowded theater; anyone could see them.

  “Meghan,” he whispered.

  “I know,” she murmured, her eyes downcast. “Later.”

  “No,” he growled softly. “Now.” He bent his face toward hers, and his breath fanned her upturned face. Their lips met in the gentlest of kisses—velvet against satin, petal-soft, sweet, gentle, addictive.

  Grey breathed in harshly and leaned his forehead against her own. “Sweet Meghan O’Day, the things you do to me.”

  A tornado could have descended on her at that moment, and Meghan wouldn’t even have noticed. The mighty wind that would destroy everything in its path wouldn’t have fazed her. Nothing could have compared to the rush of emotion that rocked through her. She was falling in love with Professor Greyson Carlyle—head over heels in love with him. Up to this point she’d been attracted to him, infatuated with him, and challenged by the differences between them; but her feelings went beyond all that now.

  Some time after the cocktail party at President Browning’s house and before tonight, she’d willingly surrendered her heart to this man. The precise time and place remained a mystery.

  Grey kissed her one last time, and the kiss was long and thorough. Their lips clung to each other’s, and when they broke apart, it was with heavy reluctance.

  Meghan hardly noticed the remainder of the film. At several places in the movie the audience gasped at some gruesome sight, but all Meghan did was sigh and lean against Grey, soaking up his warmth.

  When the film was finally over, light filled the theater. Meghan straightened and Grey disentangled his arms from around her.

  “We might as well wait for the boys in the lobby,” Grey suggested. He helped Meghan on with her coat after she stood.

  Behind them, she heard two girls whispering.

  “That is Professor Carlyle,” came the first voice, clearly female.

  “It can’t be,” returned the second, also feminine. “Old Stone Face? Think about it. Professor Carlyle never cracks a joke or hardly ever smiles. He just isn’t the type to pay money to see this kind of movie. It couldn’t possibly be the same man.”

  “I know you’re right, Carrie, but I swear it looks just like him.”

  “He’s got a woman with him, too. Someone young.”

  A short silence followed. Meghan was sure that Grey couldn’t help overhearing the conversation any more than she could. Catching his gaze, she tried to reassure him with a timid smile, but if he saw it, he didn’t respond.

  “I read somewhere that everyone has a twin in this world,” the whispering continued. “I bet that man’s Professor Carlyle’s twin.”

  “She’s too young for him, don’t you think?”

  On the way out of the aisle, Grey kept his arm tucked around Meghan’s waist. He stopped at the last row, paused, and looked down at the two teenage girls, who remained sitting. They glared up at him, their mouths gaping open.

  “Good evening, Carrie … Carol,” he said evenly.

  Both teens straightened in their seats as though they’d been caught doing something illegal. “Hello, Professor Carlyle.”

  “It’s good to see you again, sir.”

  With his hand guiding Meghan at the base of her spine, he directed her into the lobby.

  Meghan waited until they were near the exit doors before she spoke. “Greyson Carlyle, that was cruel and unusual punishment.”

  “Perhaps,” he agreed, his smile noticeably forced.

  Chad and Danny walked
out of the main part of the theater looking as though they could hardly wait to see yet another episode of Chainsaw Murder. Meghan cringed at the mere thought of having to sit through another sequel to the dreadful horror film. If Grey had any intention of saying anything more to her about what they’d overheard earlier, the chance was gone.

  “Wasn’t that super-rad?” Chad asked, looking to Grey for his approval. “Danny and I want to thank you for taking us—we probably wouldn’t have been able to go if it hadn’t been for you.”

  The comment was designed to cause Meghan to feel guilty for not being more willing to accompany her brothers to such important events, but she refused to be so much as tempted by the emotion. If it had been up to her, they would have gone to see a musical—and both Chad and Danny knew it.

  “The movie was rad?” Grey repeated, arching his brows and glancing in Meghan’s direction.

  “Rad means cool, groovy—you know,” Chad explained conversationally.

  Grey nodded, his blue eyes serious. What humor shone there seemed forced. “Now that you mention it, I do know what that means. Banana splits are rad, aren’t they? I wonder if you two boys would be game for one?”

  “Are you nuts? We’d love it,” Danny answered for them both.

  “Grey, you’re spoiling them,” Meghan protested, but not too strenuously. She enjoyed watching Grey interact with the boys, and it was obvious they were equally fascinated with him.

  “Oh Meghan, don’t ruin it for us. Grey’s not spoiling us. He offered all on his own, without any coaxing.”

  “Yeah. We didn’t even have to ask”—Danny tagged on his own feelings—“Grey’s just being a pal.”

  “That’s right,” Grey said, and wrapped his arm around Meghan’s shoulders.

  He led the way outside, keeping Meghan close, but she felt him withdrawing even as he offered to take the boys out for dessert.

  “From what I hear about your uncle Harry,” Grey said to Meghan, “I’m going to need all the friends I can find for tomorrow.”

  Meghan had nearly forgotten that her infamous uncle would be joining the O’Day family for the Thanksgiving festivities the following day. Uncle Harry was a known teaser, who delighted in saying and doing things that were sure to embarrass the younger generation. Usually he had a trick or two up his sleeve, and he delighted in fooling all the family members.