Courting Katarina. Carol Steward

Good-looking or not, he can’t jump in and take over. “You do…um, did…uh, every time I see you, you assume I can’t handle anything.”

      “I what?” His blue eyes widened. “How do I do that?”

      Katarina crossed her arms over her beating heart, raised one arm and rested her finger on her chin. “Hmm, let’s see now. You yanked me out from under the table….”

      “You were stuck. I was trying to help,” he protested.

      “I would have been absolutely content to stay out of the limelight after that humiliation, thank you very much. Then you insisted on carrying those flower vases to my car. You charged right in to get Ricky out of the tree….”

      Alex clenched his jaw and his face turned red. “And what would you have liked me to do? Stand there and give you a list of my qualifications to rescue a frightened little boy? Or were you thinking you’d climb the tree in that frilly dress of yours?”

      “That isn’t the point. However, you could have explained instead of rushing right in and taking charge. Which brings us to today. I’m perfectly capable of carrying Ricky inside. And now you assume I need your help in the kitchen.” She stepped around the counter and reached up to open the cabinet. “I do believe I’m…”

      Alex put his hand against the cabinet door to hold it closed. Surprised, she looked over her shoulder, inhaling his clean outdoorsy scent. Her gaze moved from his long, muscled arm to his shoulder, neck and finally to his freshly shaven jaw. He didn’t come straight from work. He took the time to go home and shower.

      “I happen to love kids, okay? I’ve already lost too much time with my sisters’ children. I don’t plan to miss the chance to spend time with Ricky. And as far as my offer to help, I’m not one of those chauvinistic men who thinks a woman’s place is in the kitchen. I was raised sharing the load. You have a problem with any of that?” Alex’s clipped words forbade questioning him further.

      Alex’s explanation took the punch from Kat’s anger. She’d fought for everything as a young child, constantly fended off illness and struggled to keep up with missed schoolwork. Maybe that was why she was so determined to be independent. What’s wrong with me? She felt Alex’s nearness, confused by the quickening of her heart and shortness of breath. Somehow, a smile found its way through the mask of uncertainty. “No problem. Just so we understand each other.”

      Alex bent his elbow and leaned closer. His gaze caressed her face before he offered a forgiving smile. “Who is it that doesn’t understand your capabilities, Katarina? Because it certainly isn’t me. I wouldn’t dream of standing in your way.”

      She looked at his feet, then into his eyes. “Talk’s cheap.”

      His smile disappeared and he backed across the kitchen. With one of Alex’s hands resting upon the counter and the thumb of his other hand hooked in his jeans pocket, his shoulders looked even broader than they had up close.

      Katarina turned her back to him, opened the cabinet and closed her eyes, hoping to catch her breath and recollect the protective wit that served as her shield of armor. Not even Ron could unravel her as Alex had after only two days.

      “So, is there anything I may do to help, or would you prefer I go sit down?”

      “I’ll have everything together in just a minute.”

      Alex moved to the dining-room side of the island dividing the two rooms. He didn’t much like the image Katarina seemed to have of him. Though he heard her reasons, he still didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. Was it so terrible to be helpful? To be a considerate guest? He knew the logical answers to the questions, but couldn’t for the life of him figure out why the obvious wasn’t clear to Katarina. “May I ask you a question?”

      “Sure,” Katarina said, cheerful again. She brought in the plates and glasses, then returned to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

      He hemmed and hawed for a minute, still uncertain if it was wise to push her. “Could you help me understand exactly how to correct my mistakes…um, so I don’t make the same ones with anyone else?”

      “Anyone else?” Katarina pulled out a cutting board and placed it on the counter between them. “I thought you weren’t interested in being ‘caught.”’ She raised her eyebrows and shot him a devastatingly beautiful grin as she chopped up a head of lettuce.

      “Who said anything about anyone catching me?”

      She scooped up a handful of lettuce and placed it into a bowl. “Ah, you’re just in it for the chase, huh?”

      He shook his head and leaned across the counter. “Never said that, either. I just don’t like walking on burning embers. I have enough of that in my line of work.”

      Katarina stifled a laugh, picking up each stray piece of lettuce. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

      “I wasn’t asking for an apology.” He covered her hands with his own and waited for her reply. There was none. “Why did that offend you so, offering to help?”

      “Are you always so pushy?”

      He smiled. “Yeah, I guess I am. Is that what’s bothering you? You don’t like people to ask too many questions? Or don’t you want to let anyone get too close?”

      She paused, staring him in the eye with a cool smile on her lips. “I simply don’t ‘need’ people the way a lot of other women do.”

      “Fiercely independent,” he said, assessing her. “You don’t want to be depended upon, or to depend on anyone else?”

      Silence.

      “Guess I hit a nerve.”

      “Are you a psychologist in the off-season?” Katarina pulled her hands loose and opened a brown paper sack in front of her. “Hmm, a smoke jumping shrink. Has a nice ring to it.”

      Alex chuckled.

      She took out two Italian tomatoes, washed them, quartered them and tossed them into the salad.

      “So, you think accepting help is a sign of weakness?”

      “Listen, Doc…”

      “That’s your sister. My crew calls me Mac, but I really prefer it if you’d stick to Alex. Bury the hatchet, Katarina. You don’t need anyone, and I’m not in the market to be needed. You’re as good as engaged—” he cocked his head “—though I don’t quite understand why you’re here, and he’s not.”

      She smiled. “Ron happens to believe in individual independence. He encourages it, in fact. He doesn’t want me to depend upon him any more than I want to.”

      “Probably believes in prenuptial contracts, too,” Alex muttered.

      “And what’s wrong with that?”

      He’d better stop before they were at each other’s throats again, he thought. What in the world had given her such a distorted view? All he’d done was offer a little help.

      “Alex? Why don’t you approve of prenuptial agreements?”

      His name rolled off her tongue like a breeze through the forest—soft, gentle and refreshing. “Never mind. Just a different view of commitment, I guess. But what do I know? I’m thirty-five and haven’t even been close to the altar. You on the other hand…are as good as engaged. Friends?”

      Her mouth twisted into a crooked grin. “On the other hand, I’m no expert, either. This will be my second engagement, and I’m not so convinced it’s a great idea, either.” She extended her hand. “Friends.”

      Alex took her graceful hand into his and met her coy smile with one of his own. “Which aren’t you sure of, Katarina? The prenuptial agreement or the engagement?”

      Katarina thought for a moment.

      “Neither.”