The Road To Love: Love by Degree / The Rain Sparrow. Debbie Macomber

not a problem. Ralph’s already offered to take me home.”

      Reed’s expression was impassive, almost aloof, as she turned toward him. “I’m sure you won’t mind.”

      “How understanding of you,” Danielle simpered, locking her arm around Reed’s.

      “It’s better than hand-to-hand combat. I don’t really care for fighting.”

      Danielle looked puzzled, while Ralph choked on a swallow of his drink, his face turning several shades of red as he struggled to hide his amusement. The only one who revealed no sense of humor was Reed, whose face grew more and more shadowed.

      The band struck up a lively song and the dance floor quickly filled. “Come on, Reed,” Danielle said, her blue eyes eager. “Let’s dance.” She tugged at Reed’s hand and gave a little wriggle of her hips. “You know how much I love to dance.”

      So Reed had done his share of dancing with Danielle—probably at all those charity balls she’d mentioned. Ellen had guessed as much and yet he’d tried to give her the impression that he rarely danced.

      But noticing the stiff way Reed held himself now, Ellen could almost believe him.

      Ralph placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

      Watching Reed with Danielle in his arms was absurdly painful; her throat muscles constricted in an effort to hold back tears and she simply nodded.

      “Since we’ll be skipping the banquet, shall we go have dinner somewhere?”

      Ellen blinked. Dinner. “I’m not really hungry,” she said.

      “Sure you’re hungry,” Ralph insisted. “We’ll stop at a nice restaurant before I drive you home. I know where Reed’s place is, so I know where you live. Don’t look so shocked. I figured it out from what you and Danielle were saying. But don’t worry, I understand—impoverished students sharing a house and all that. So, what do you say? We’ll have a leisurely dinner and get home two hours after Reed. That should set him thinking.”

      Ellen didn’t feel in any mood to play games at Reed’s expense. “I’d rather not.”

      Ralph’s jovial expression sobered. “You’ve got it bad.”

      “I’ll be fine.”

      He smiled. “I know you will. Come on, let’s go.”

      The night that had begun with such promise had evaporated so quickly, leaving a residue of uncertainty and suspicion. As they neared the house, her composure gradually crumbled until she was nervously twisting the delicate strap of her evening bag over and over between her fingers. To his credit, Ralph attempted to carry the conversation, but her responses became less and less animated. She just wanted to get home and bury her head in her pillow.

      By the time Ralph pulled up in front of the Capitol Hill house, they were both silent.

      “Would you like to come in for coffee?” she asked. The illusion she’d created earlier of flippant humor was gone now. She hurt, and every time she blinked, a picture of Danielle dancing with Reed came to mind. How easy it was to visualize the other woman’s arms around his neck, her voluptuous body pressed against his. The image tormented Ellen with every breath she took.

      “No, I think I’ll make it an early night.”

      “Thank you,” she said affectionately. “I couldn’t have handled this without you.”

      “I was happy to help. And, Ellen, if you want a shoulder to cry on, I’m available.”

      She dropped her gaze to the tightly coiled strap of her bag. “I’m fine. Really.”

      He patted her hand. “Somehow I don’t quite believe that.” Opening the car door, he came around to her side and handed her out.

      On the top step of the porch, Ellen kissed his cheek. “Thanks again.”

      “Good night, Ellen.”

      “Night.” She took out her keys and unlocked the front door. Pushing it open, she discovered that the house was oddly dark and oddly deserted. It was still relatively early and she would’ve expected the boys to be around. But not having to make excuses to them was a blessing she wasn’t about to question.

      As she removed her coat and headed for the stairs, she noticed the shadows bouncing around the darkened living room. She walked over to investigate and, two steps into the room, heard soft violin music.

      Ellen stood there paralyzed, taking in the romantic scene before her. A bottle of wine and two glasses were set out on the coffee table. A fire blazed in the brick fireplace. And the music seemed to assault her from all sides.

      “Derek,” she called out.

      Silence.

      “All right, Pat and Monte. I know you’re here somewhere.”

      Silence.

      “I’d suggest the three of you get rid of this...stuff before Reed comes home. He’s with Danielle.” With that, she marched up the stairs, uncaring if they heard her.

      “With Danielle?” she heard a male voice shout after her.

      “What happened?”

      Ellen pretended not to hear.

      * * *

      THE MORNING SUN sneaked into her window, splashing the pillow where Ellen lay awake staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Sooner or later she’d have to get out of bed, but she couldn’t see any reason to rush the process. Besides, the longer she stayed up here, the greater her chances of missing Reed. The unpleasantness of facing him wasn’t going to vanish, but she might be able to postpone it for a morning. Although she had to wonder whether Reed was any more keen on seeing her than she was on seeing him. She could always kill time by dragging out her algebra books and studying for the exam—but that was almost as distasteful as facing Reed.

      No, she decided suddenly, she’d stay in her room until she was weak with hunger. Checking her wristwatch, she figured that would be about another five minutes.

      Someone knocked on her bedroom door. Sitting up, Ellen pulled the sheet to her neck. “Who is it?” she shouted, not particularly eager to talk to anyone.

      Reed threw open the door and stalked inside. He stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips. “Are you planning to stay up here for the rest of your life?”

      “The idea has distinct possibilities.” She glared back at him, her eyes flashing with outrage and ill humor. “By the way, you’ll note that I asked who was at the door. I didn’t say, ‘come in.’” Her voice rose to a mockingly high pitch. “You might have walked in on me when I was dressing.”

      A smile crossed his mouth. “Is that an invitation?”

      “Absolutely not.” She rose to a kneeling position, taking the sheets and blankets with her, and pointed a finger in the direction of the door. “Would you kindly leave? I’d like to get dressed.”

      “Don’t let me stop you.”

      “Reed, please,” she said irritably. “I’m not in any mood to talk to you.”

      “I’m not leaving until we do.”

      “Unfair. I haven’t had my cup of tea and my mouth feels like the bottom of Puget Sound.”

      “All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”

      “How generous of you.”

      “Considering my frame of mind since you walked out on me last night, I consider it pretty generous.”

      “Walked out on you!” She flew off the bed. “That’s a bit much!”

      “Ten minutes,” he repeated, his voice low.