Read Online Belonging to Taylor by Kay Hooper - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kay Hooper
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Trevor closed the door and carried the basket into the den, where he set it on the coffee table.
"There's a card," Jason offered gravely.
The card, opened, revealed a few lines Trevor recognized as a paraphrase from a work of George Bernard Shaw.
You believe it is your part to woo, to persuade, to prevail, to overcome, but you 're the pursued.
The card wasn't signed. But then, it hardly needed to be.
Trevor knew he was smiling but couldn't seem to stop himself. "Damn that little witch," he murmured, and felt no surprise when the words bore a closer resemblance to a caress than to a curse.
Chapter Five
Two days later, with only a weekend left of his vacation, Trevor finally gave in and called Taylor. She answered the phone herself, and he wasted no time identifying himself; it was needless, he knew.
"Thank you for the flowers," he told her gravely.
"You're welcome," she said, equally solemn. "I hope you like roses."
"I like roses. I also liked the gardenias yesterday and the box of chocolates today. My entire apartment building is intrigued."
"Did I embarrass you?"
"Would it disturb you if I said yes?"
"Not particularly."
"I didn't think so."
Taylor laughed. "How does it feel to be pursued?"
"I haven't made up my mind yet." Trevor paused. "But my brother says he's in love with you."
"A man of obvious taste."
"No, just a radical sense of humor."
"Thanks a lot!"
Trevor laughed, but the sound held a sigh. 'Taylor, you are not making this easy for me."
"That's supposed to be the lady's line," she said blandly.
'Tell me about it!"
"Well, if you want to fight about it, why not come to dinner and we'll fight over the pasta. You love Italian food," she added enticingly.
Trevor told himself quite firmly that he accepted this guileless invitation only because he was convinced the days away from Taylor and her family had put things rigidly into perspective. He told himself he was utterly and completely convinced of that.
Jason would have laughed uproariously.
So Trevor, after five days in which to put "things" into perspective, once again ventured a foray into Taylor's absurd family. He kept a close guard on himself, taking care to avoid being alone with Taylor for any length of time because he was determined to let nothing irrevocable happen between them.
He spent the better part of the weekend with the family, and even though he was ruefully aware that Taylor was amused by his guardedness, he couldn't help but enjoy himself.
He found himself giving Luke a hand with the gardening, listening to Jessie practicing the piano, reading to Dory, and helping Jamie groom the family poodle, Agamemnon. It became a ritual to help Taylor with the preparation of meals for the family. And Sara more than once requested his help in various bizarre chores he thought prudent not to question, such as looking all through the attic for an ancient pair of ballet slippers. And hunting through various closets for a hat with feathers. What she did with both his finds Trevor didn't dare ask, although he saw neither again.
Given the run of the house and the unshadowed trust of the family, Trevor grew far more comfortable than his self-preserving inner voice liked. Since no one displayed further evidence of ESP—even Taylor, if she read his thoughts, kept quiet about it—he was able to put from his mind the knowledge that this family was unusual in more than just behavior and personality. He was even beginning to understand them.
Luke, for all his softly hurried style of speech and all the "chaff mixed in with the grain," as Taylor ruefully described it, possessed a brilliant mind and a cool composure in emergencies. Trevor discovered the latter when Dory fell from a tree in the backyard on Sunday morning. Everyone was anxious, though all were calm, and Luke was gently expert in examining the sprained ankle of his youngest daughter while she sat in Trevor's lap. Trevor had to remind himself that this man was a doctor with quite a few
"There's a card," Jason offered gravely.
The card, opened, revealed a few lines Trevor recognized as a paraphrase from a work of George Bernard Shaw.
You believe it is your part to woo, to persuade, to prevail, to overcome, but you 're the pursued.
The card wasn't signed. But then, it hardly needed to be.
Trevor knew he was smiling but couldn't seem to stop himself. "Damn that little witch," he murmured, and felt no surprise when the words bore a closer resemblance to a caress than to a curse.
Chapter Five
Two days later, with only a weekend left of his vacation, Trevor finally gave in and called Taylor. She answered the phone herself, and he wasted no time identifying himself; it was needless, he knew.
"Thank you for the flowers," he told her gravely.
"You're welcome," she said, equally solemn. "I hope you like roses."
"I like roses. I also liked the gardenias yesterday and the box of chocolates today. My entire apartment building is intrigued."
"Did I embarrass you?"
"Would it disturb you if I said yes?"
"Not particularly."
"I didn't think so."
Taylor laughed. "How does it feel to be pursued?"
"I haven't made up my mind yet." Trevor paused. "But my brother says he's in love with you."
"A man of obvious taste."
"No, just a radical sense of humor."
"Thanks a lot!"
Trevor laughed, but the sound held a sigh. 'Taylor, you are not making this easy for me."
"That's supposed to be the lady's line," she said blandly.
'Tell me about it!"
"Well, if you want to fight about it, why not come to dinner and we'll fight over the pasta. You love Italian food," she added enticingly.
Trevor told himself quite firmly that he accepted this guileless invitation only because he was convinced the days away from Taylor and her family had put things rigidly into perspective. He told himself he was utterly and completely convinced of that.
Jason would have laughed uproariously.
So Trevor, after five days in which to put "things" into perspective, once again ventured a foray into Taylor's absurd family. He kept a close guard on himself, taking care to avoid being alone with Taylor for any length of time because he was determined to let nothing irrevocable happen between them.
He spent the better part of the weekend with the family, and even though he was ruefully aware that Taylor was amused by his guardedness, he couldn't help but enjoy himself.
He found himself giving Luke a hand with the gardening, listening to Jessie practicing the piano, reading to Dory, and helping Jamie groom the family poodle, Agamemnon. It became a ritual to help Taylor with the preparation of meals for the family. And Sara more than once requested his help in various bizarre chores he thought prudent not to question, such as looking all through the attic for an ancient pair of ballet slippers. And hunting through various closets for a hat with feathers. What she did with both his finds Trevor didn't dare ask, although he saw neither again.
Given the run of the house and the unshadowed trust of the family, Trevor grew far more comfortable than his self-preserving inner voice liked. Since no one displayed further evidence of ESP—even Taylor, if she read his thoughts, kept quiet about it—he was able to put from his mind the knowledge that this family was unusual in more than just behavior and personality. He was even beginning to understand them.
Luke, for all his softly hurried style of speech and all the "chaff mixed in with the grain," as Taylor ruefully described it, possessed a brilliant mind and a cool composure in emergencies. Trevor discovered the latter when Dory fell from a tree in the backyard on Sunday morning. Everyone was anxious, though all were calm, and Luke was gently expert in examining the sprained ankle of his youngest daughter while she sat in Trevor's lap. Trevor had to remind himself that this man was a doctor with quite a few
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