Free Taming Natasha by Nora Roberts Page A

touch. “I wish my hair was like yours,” she said. “It’s straight as a pin,” she added, quoting her Aunt Nina.
    Smiling, Natasha brushed at the fragile wisps over Freddie’s brow. “When I was a little girl, we put an angel on top of the Christmas tree every year. She was very beautiful, and she had hair just like yours.”
    Pleasure came flushing into Freddie’s cheeks.
    â€œAh, there you are.” Vera shuffled down the crowded aisle, straw carryall on one arm, a canvas bag on the other. “Come, come, we must get back home before your father thinks we are lost.” She held out a hand for Freddie and nodded to Natasha. “Good afternoon, miss.”
    â€œGood afternoon.” Curious, Natasha raised a brow. She was being summed up again by the little dark eyes, and definitely being found wanting, Natasha thought. “I hope you’ll bring Freddie back to visit soon.”
    â€œWe will see. It is as hard for a child to resist a toy store as it is for a man to resist a beautiful woman.”
    Vera led Freddie down the aisle, not looking back when the girl waved and grinned over her shoulder.
    â€œWell,” Annie murmured as she stuck her head around the corner. “What brought that on?”
    With a humorless smile, Natasha shoved a pin back into her hair. “At a guess, I would say the woman believes I have designs on her employer.”
    Annie gave an unladylike snort. “If anything, the employer has designs on you. I should be so lucky.” Her sigh was only a little envious. “Now that we know the new hunk on the block isn’t married, all’s right with the world. Why didn’t you tell me you were going out with him?”
    â€œBecause I wasn’t.”
    â€œBut I heard Freddie say—”
    â€œHe asked me out,” Natasha clarified. “I said no.”
    â€œI see.” After a brief pause, Annie tilted her head. “When did you have the accident?”
    â€œAccident?”
    â€œYes, the one where you suffered brain damage.”
    Natasha’s face cleared with a laugh, and she started toward the front of the shop.
    â€œI’m serious,” Annie said as soon as they had five free minutes. “Dr. Spencer Kimball is gorgeous, unattached and…” She leaned over the counter to sniff at the rose. “Charming. Why aren’t you taking off early to work on real problems, like what to wear tonight?”
    â€œI know what I’m wearing tonight. My bathrobe.”
    Annie couldn’t resist the grin. “Aren’t you rushing things just a tad? I don’t think you should wear your robe until at least your third date.”
    â€œThere’s not going to be a first one.” Natasha smiled at her next customer and rang up a sale.
    It took Annie forty minutes to work back to the subject at hand. “Just what are you afraid of?”
    â€œThe IRS.”
    â€œTash, I’m serious.”
    â€œSo am I.” When her pins worked loose again, she gave up and yanked them out. “Every American businessperson is afraid of the IRS.”
    â€œWe’re talking about Spence Kimball.”
    â€œNo,” Natasha corrected. “You’re talking about Spence Kimball.”
    â€œI thought we were friends.”
    Surprised by Annie’s tone, Natasha stopped tidying the racetrack display her Saturday visitors had wrecked. “We are. You know we are.”
    â€œFriends talk to each other, Tash, confide in each other, ask advice.” Puffing out a breath, Annie stuffed her hands into the pockets of her baggy jeans. “Look, I know that things happened to you before you came here, things you’re still carrying around but never talk about. I figured I was being a better friend by not asking you about it.”
    Had she been so obvious? Natasha wondered. All this time she’d been certain she had buried the past and all that went with it—deeply.