Hearts Unfold (63 page)

Pity Milo, John mused, now
that Stani had determined to strike out on his own, pursue his own goals.
 
Added to that was the presence of this girl,
whose strength might well match his own if Milo posed a threat to Stani's
happiness.
 
John admired Milo, but he
also recognized that in his single-minded approach to Stani's career, Milo had
very nearly sent him to his death.
 
He
had let him run out of control, exposed him to a lifestyle for which he had no
preparation.
 
Stani was naive and
inexperienced, but Milo had seen his inclusion in the New York night life as an
opportunity for publicity, a chance to advance his reputation.
 
Had John been aware of what was happening
during those months, he would have reconsidered his decision to stay in
London.
 
Now he was dedicated to
protecting Stani, as he had done when he was just a little boy, not only from
the unwanted attention of strangers, but from undue pressure from Milo.
 
He would gladly welcome an ally, and he
suspected that Emily would quickly perceive the tension that now existed
between Stani and Milo.

After Stani's first visit to
her, when it had been obvious that he intended to pursue her, John had wondered
about her reaction to the letter Milo had sent after the accident.
 
They had never heard from her again, as Milo
had been so sure they would.
 
She had
remained silent during the months when the tabloids had been persistently
scouring for any clue as to Stani's involvement in the events of that
night.
 
When Stani had returned after
Christmas, he had told John of the girl's reluctance to face Milo after
accepting his insulting payoff.
 
Stani
had been prepared to call Milo to task, but John had argued that it would only
stir up the past, just when Stani wanted to get on with their future.
 
He’d pointed out to Stani that her
willingness to come to New York, to meet Milo in spite of her fears, should be
proof enough of her commitment to him.
 
Let Milo see for himself this amazing girl, who had first saved him and
now loved him.
 
Even Milo should be able
to appreciate all she’d done for Stani, even if he found it difficult to
comprehend such selfless devotion.

John realized he would soon
have the two of them to watch over if his suspicions were correct and Stani
intended to marry her.
 
She would be the
marrying kind, John was sure.
 
No living
arrangement, but a good old-fashioned wedding, followed no doubt by the arrival
of babies.
 
Stani had talked at such
length about the baby delivered on Christmas Eve, marveling at the miracle of
childbirth, the awe-inspiring cry of a newborn.
 
Never, as far as John knew, had Stani even been in the same room with a
baby, yet now he seemed eager to learn everything about the nurture of infants.

Stani was full of new
interests, all pointing to the course he was charting toward a life with
Emily.
 
There were the books, purchased
from a list John had carried all over Manhattan in an effort to locate; books
on faith, guides to reading the scriptures, a history of the church, and a
thick black Bible in the recommended edition, which he knew Stani kept by his
chair in the new sitting room.
 
He hadn't
asked questions, but he was sure that also had to do with Stani's plans.
 
Emily was a person of faith he had said, and
John could only surmise that Stani had experienced some sort of conversion
himself.
 
When he had gone out alone on a
Sunday morning, John had been caught off guard.
 
But on his return, Stani told him he had walked to a nearby church and
apologized for not having thought to invite him.
 
He was more than welcome to come along next
week, he offered.
 
If he had been aware
of John's astonished gaze, he had not let on.

There were other changes,
spontaneously hailing cabs in front of the hotel instead of calling for the
car, a shopping expedition to an off-the-rack men's store, the trip to a market
where he bought tea and several other staples for the tiny kitchen in the
suite.
 
He had declared that he intended
to learn to at least make his own breakfast, his own tea and toast.
 
He talked of the wonderful meals he’d eaten
with Emily and her friends, describing the succulent wild duck and delectable
chocolate pie.
 
This boy, who invariably
ordered red meat and potatoes, never ate sweets and seemed to take his meals
for granted, eating when food was laid before him, now searched out
restaurants, reading the menus posted by the doors, even making notes for
future reference.
 
When John finally
insisted on an explanation for this bizarre behavior, Stani said with a grin
that Emily loved to eat, in fact ate much more than the usual three squares a
day.
 
He needed to be prepared to keep
her well fed while she was with him in New York.

Just when John thought he'd
seen all the changes, at least for now, Stani had begun composing.
 
While he had always improvised, sometimes for
hours on end, making up variations on any tune for his own amusement, he had
never before written out his creations.
 
When John arrived at the suite one morning to find the little dining
table littered with big sheets of staff paper, and Stani, still in his pajamas,
hard at work, he had been momentarily stunned.
 
As Stani played snatches of a melody, making notations and humming to
himself, John had looked over his shoulder and seen at the top of the page the
words, “Emily's Theme—Simple Gifts.”
 
Stani had assured him that he had not gone mad, but rather had a sudden
inspiration.
 
One of many, John had
commented.

Now that he’d seen her, it all
made sense.
 
He would have more changes
to look forward to, equally unpredictable, requiring him to think on his feet
to keep things running smoothly.
 
Not a bad
job for an old copper, he told himself.
 
If he had known, when he first met little Stani Moss all those years
ago, that he would someday be playing nursemaid to a pair of eccentric
lovebirds, he would never have believed how entertaining it might be.
 

John waited until after ten to
go up to Stani's suite.
 
The girl must be
exhausted after the long trip, but he knew they would want time together.
 
He’d been amused by the way Stani had
insisted on her sleeping a safe distance away.
 
Not that he didn't trust himself, he said, but he was not, after all,
made of stone.
 
And Emily seemed at times
unaware of the effect she had on him.
 
Grinning, he had added that then again, perhaps she was aware, and that
was the problem.

When he knocked on the door,
it took some minutes for Stani to answer.
 
As a trained observer, who could assess the situation in a room upon
entry, John was hard put not to laugh.
 
Two flushed faces, with broad smiles and sparkling eyes, appeared in the
open doorway.
 
Emily stood behind Stani,
her arms around his waist, her chin resting on his shoulder.

“I'm just checking to see if
you need anything else tonight.”
 
John
found it difficult to look Stani in the eye with a straight face.

“Please come in, John.
 
Stani was just about to surrender.”
 
Emily jerked her head toward the chess board
on the table.

Closing the door behind him,
John shook his head in amazement.
 
“Is
that what you two have been doing all this time, playing chess?”

“Oh, no.”
 
Stani led her to a chair, pulling her down
across his lap.
 
“We had dinner.”

“And Stani took me downstairs
and introduced me to most of the hotel staff.”
 
Emily was idly twisting her fingers in the boy's hair, gazing warmly
into his face.

“And then we ate again.”
 
His eyes half closed, Stani nuzzled her
shoulder.

“And then I challenged him to
a game of chess, and beat the socks off him, twice.”
 
Taking his face between her hands, she
dropped a kiss on his forehead.

“Ah, so you've been busy
little bees, haven't you?
 
And I can see
you don't need me tonight, lad.
 
I don't
suppose you'd like me to walk Emily downstairs, would you?”
 
Both pairs of eyes turned to him with the
same incredulous expression.
 
“No, I
thought not.
 
What time in the morning,
Stani?”

“Emily's going to phone me as
soon as she's awake, so I can order her breakfast.
 
I'll call you when we're done.
 
We'll want to get to the Metropolitan by ten,
I guess.”
 
Stani went back to his
nuzzling and John let himself out.
 
He
spent the rest of the evening envisioning a very different life in the coming
months, filled with unaccustomed laughter and downright happiness.
 
Nothing like the past three years he'd spent
watching Stani come back to life.

Chapter Fifty-one

Emily was surprised at how
well she slept that first night.
 
After
the long car ride, which had been entertaining in itself, as the kindly Robert
regaled her with stories of driving his various clients around New York, she
had expected to be exhausted.
 
But as
soon as she stepped out of the car into Stani's warm embrace, she'd felt the
excitement of the city, not to mention his own enthusiastic welcome.
 
They’d laughed and talked, toured the hotel
and finally settled down in front of his little fireplace.
 
He had been so eager to entertain her, feed her
and make her feel at home.
 
When he’d
finally taken her to her suite, they'd spent considerable time in each other’s
arms.
 
She’d gone to bed flushed and more
than a little aroused.
 
But she had slept
soundly, knowing his would be the first face she would see when she woke.

Stani arrived with their
breakfast, sending away the room service waiter and wheeling it in
himself.
 
Wrapped in the fluffy white
robe she'd found in the bathroom, she joined him at the table, letting him fill
her plate and pour her tea.
 
He'd make a
fine waiter, she assured him, if this music thing didn't work out for him.

They had a full day planned
including meeting Jana for lunch.
 
But
first they would spend a few hours browsing the Metropolitan Museum, maybe have
a cup of hot chocolate on the street, just watch the flow of people that was so
much a part of everyday life in New York.
 
The weather promised to be fine, unseasonably warm and clear after
yesterday's rain.
 
They had best take
advantage while it held, he said.
 
If the
rain returned, they'd be confined to the car for her sightseeing.
 
He had a tour coming up, he reminded
her.
 
He couldn't risk catching cold now.

“And I suppose running into
the rain, standing there kissing me in the middle of the street, was not a
risk?”

“One I was more than willing
to take.
 
I knew your response would be
sufficiently warm to protect me.
 
And I
was not disappointed.
 
John said in the
lobby some of the staff were applauding us.
 
Isn't it funny that New York has a reputation
for being cold and unfriendly when in fact it's a wonderful city for
lovers?”
 
Across the table, he studied
her face, still flushed with sleep.
 
She
had started his day with a rush of desire, and he marveled that she could be so
enticing without any effort.

“Maybe that's only true if the
lovers are silly enough to call attention to themselves.
 
I suppose you warned me you'd become, what
was the word, transparent?”
 
Tearing
apart a croissant, she delicately folded strips of bread into her mouth.
 
“Do you think Jana will suspect?
 
That we're more than friends, I mean?”
 

“She already knows, I
expect.
 
She's always been able to read
me pretty easily.
 
She's really a very
caring woman.
 
There were times I felt
she held back from giving me too much, I suppose because she was afraid it
would seem disloyal to Milo.
 
They love
each other very much, I know.
 
But Jana
always lets things go Milo's way, never stands up to him.
 
Please don't ever let that happen to us.
 
We should be equals, shouldn't we, with
enough respect for each other to have our own opinions, make our own
decisions?
 
I know compromise is
important, but it shouldn't be one-sided.”