Free Taming Natasha by Nora Roberts Page B

Feeling a little helpless, she reached out to touch Annie’s hand. “Thank you.”
    With a dismissive shrug, Annie turned to flick the lock on the front door. The shop was empty now, the bustle of the afternoon only an echo. “Remember when you let me cry on your shoulder after Don Newman dumped me?”
    Natasha pressed her lips in to a thin line. “He wasn’t worth crying over.”
    â€œI enjoyed crying over him,” Annie returned with a quick, amused smile. “I needed to cry and yell and moan and get a little drunk. You were right there for me, saying all those great, nasty things about him.”
    â€œThat was the easy part,” Natasha remembered. “He was a dork.” It pleased her tremendously to use the young Freedmont boy’s insult.
    â€œYeah, but he was a terrific-looking dork.” Annie allowed herself a brief reminiscence. “Anyway, you helped me over that rough spot until I convinced myself I was better off without him. You’ve never needed my shoulder, Tash, because you’ve never let a guy get past this.” She lifted a hand, pressing her palm against empty air.
    Amused, Natasha leaned back against the counter. “And what is that?”
    â€œThe Great Stanislaski Force Field,” Annie told her. “Guaranteed to repel all males from the age of twenty-five to fifty.”
    Natasha lifted a brow, not quite sure if she was amused any longer. “I’m not certain if you’re trying to flatter or insult me.”
    â€œNeither. Just listen to me a minute, okay?” Annie took a deep breath to keep herself from rushing through something she thought should be taken step-by-step. “Tash, I’ve seen you brush off guys with less effort than you’d swat away a gnat. And just as automatically,” she added when Natasha remained silent. “You’re very pleasant about it, and also very definite. I’ve never seen you give any man a second’s thought once you’ve politely shown him the door. I’ve even admired you for it, forbeing so sure of yourself, so comfortable with yourself that you didn’t need a date on Saturday night to keep your ego out of the dirt.”
    â€œNot sure of myself,” Natasha murmured. “Just apathetic about relationships.”
    â€œAll right.” Annie nodded slowly. “I’ll accept that. But this time it’s different.”
    â€œWhat is?” Natasha skirted the counter and began to tally the day’s sales.
    â€œYou see? You know I’m going to mention his name, and you’re nervous.”
    â€œI’m not nervous,” Natasha lied.
    â€œYou’ve been nervous, moody and distracted since Kimball walked into the shop a couple of weeks ago. In over three years, I’ve never seen you give a man more than five minutes’ thought. Until now.”
    â€œThat’s only because this one is more annoying than most.” At Annie’s shrewd look, Natasha gave up. “All right, there is…something,” she admitted. “But I’m not interested.”
    â€œYou’re afraid to be interested.”
    Natasha didn’t like the sound of that, but forced herself to shrug it off. “It’s the same thing.”
    â€œNo, it’s not.” Annie put a hand over Natasha’s and squeezed. “Look, I’m not pushing you toward this guy. For all I know, he could have murdered his wife and buried her in the rose garden. All I’m saying is, you’re not going to be comfortable with yourself until you stop being afraid.”
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    Annie was right, Natasha thought later as she sat on her bed with her chin on her hand. She was moody, she was distracted. And she was afraid. Not of Spence, Natasha assured herself. No man wouldever frighten her again. But she was afraid of the feelings he stirred up. Forgotten, unwanted feelings.
    Did that mean she was no longer in charge of her emotions? No.