A Secret to Forgive

by Tricia Saxby

  “Yes. My Valentine’s Day date.”

  “Right.”

  “I would like you and me to remain friends.”

  “Of course.”

  Karen nodded. “Good.” That was easy.

  Then why did she have a dull ache in her gut and a huge inclination to cry?

  She downed the rest of her wine. At the table, the absence of the fire’s warmth had her shivering.

  “I was in a bad place back then.” Leo’s voice barely rose above a whisper.

  “What?”

  “I had a concrete shell around me that kept me safe…kept me sane.”

  Karen moved closer to the fire, where Leo had pulled his chair then sat on the bearskin rug at his feet.

  “And it worked great…until you came along. You grew on me and I let my guard down. My walls started to crumble and soon I was vulnerable again. But as is your way, you asked one too many questions…or possibly the one question I couldn’t answer.”

  Karen remembered that day like it had happened only moments ago. It had been an unusually hot spring day, and they’d been on the beach sun tanning. Leo had been rubbing suntan lotion on her back. She’d been so relaxed, so happy, and so sure of her love for this man and the place she’d made in this college world of hers that words had flowed from her like a waterfall. She’d wanted to know everything about Leo, from his favorite color to his most embarrassing moment.

  It’d been when she’d started asking questions about his family that she noticed a change in his mood and tone. She left it alone, and when they’d returned to his dorm room, they made passionate love. In her sated afterglow she’d resumed her questions, forgetting how upset Leo had been on the beach. When she’d woken late the next morning, it’d been to a cold bed and then a walk of shame past his buddies.

  “What question did I ask?”

  “It was so long ago, Karen. Why do you still want to know?”

  “Why won’t you tell me?” she snapped back.

  “I honestly can’t remember.”

  “Now who’s the liar?”

  Leo grabbed her arm and pulled her off the floor and into his lap. “You are.”

  “I am not!”

  “And your delusional future with Paul?”

  Karen opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  “No delusions,” she finally managed to say. “He kissed me and I knew.”

  “He kissed you, did he?”

  Karen nodded, her gaze never leaving his.

  “Did he kiss you like this?” Leo’s mouth swooped down on hers and she was lost.

  »»•««

  His kiss was rough and he knew it. She squirmed in his arms a bit, but he refused to let her go. Did she really believe it had been Paul who’d kissed her the night before in the restaurant? A strong possessiveness took hold, along with the irrational thought that she should’ve known.

  And who moved on with a man because of his kiss? His grip on her upper arms increased, and she moaned against his lips. No, he didn’t want to punish her; he wanted her to realize who her mystery man really was and then decide who she wanted to be with.

  Softening the pressure of his lips, Leo ran his tongue along Karen’s full bottom lip and then dipped inside to start a slow tangle with her tongue. She tasted delicious, with hints of chocolate and cherry. Concentrating on that intoxicating combination, he deepened the kiss and pressed his body closer to hers.

  Leaving her luscious mouth, he kissed a trail down her neck. Her pulse raced, and out of the corner of his eye he could see her chest rising and falling with her labored breaths. He ran his hands up her arms and her neck and then into her hair. He looked into her green eyes and saw the moment she realized the truth. Then he saw the confusion…and something else he couldn’t quite name.

  Abandoning all common sense, he began his seduction by lowering her to the rug in front of the fire. The fire spat and crackled, but it dimmed in comparison to the roaring in his ears. He had to have her—now.

  “Leo,” she breathed.

  “Shhh…” Facing the fire, he lay beside her to shield her body from prying eyes. He ran his hand down the length of her body, spending extra time on her breasts and hips. With each pass of his hand, her dress rose higher and higher up her thighs. In no time at all he saw her pink lace panties, and he caressed the edges ever so gently. Karen’s body wiggled beside him in response.

  “We shouldn’t…” she began, and she closed her eyes as his hand made its way up her stomach to linger below her bra line.

  “Oh, we definitely should,” he whispered in her ear before kissing the delicate flesh.

  She shivered under his touch, and his heart soared with excitement as his eyes glazed over in lust. Karen had no reason to lack confidence—not where her body was concerned. She was a piece of art. Slim and toned, with a tiny waist and beautiful breasts cupped perfectly in a matching pink lace bra.

  Karen watched him with a gaze quite bold and daring, and he wanted to know if her hands and lips would be as bold. He took hold of one of her hands and placed it on his hip. As he’d hoped, she squeezed and inched her way to his groin. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. He didn’t know how much longer he could continue this seduction.

  Karen sat up and pushed him down when he tried to join her. “My turn.”

  Leo gulped as her hands roamed over his clothes. She undid his belt, followed by his pant zipper and button. In one swift movement, she straddled his hips and her hands were under his T-shirt, tracing his abs. She leaned forward, bringing his shirt with her, and he made quick work of removing it and tossing it on the floor.

  Karen wiggled her hips down, and she kissed his neck and chest down to his treasure trail. If she wasn’t careful, he was worried he would explode right there.

  “Oh, no, my sweet,” he hissed to control his raging lust. “You need to behave. Wait, no…I can’t believe I said that.”

  “Me neither,” she said, and she continued kissing him.

  From a faraway place he thought he heard his name, followed by a few loud bangs.

  “Mr. St. Clare?”

  Leo grabbed Karen’s arms to still her.

  “Mr. St. Clare, your room is ready.”

  “Thank you, Walter. Can you give us a few minutes and we’ll meet you in the foyer?”

  “Of course.”

  Karen stood and tugged her dress down her hips. “Do you think he saw us?”

  Leo sat up. “No. But I do believe he knew to stay out of sight.”

  “Do you think there are cameras in here?”

  “No.” At least he hoped not.

  After donning his shirt, Leo went to the table and picked up their wine glasses. Karen grabbed the wine bottle and smiled.

  “We can have fun with this.”

  Leo almost choked on his moan. “Upstairs…now,” he growled.

  Karen giggled and dashed out of the dining room, Leo close behind.

  Chapter Eight

  The smell of fresh coffee stirred Karen from a deep sleep. An odd quietness surrounded her, and she sat up with a start. It took a moment for her to remember she wasn’t in her own bed…or the city. Following that revelation came a rush of other thoughts, both frustrating and erotic. Who but Leo could evoke a combination like that?

  Karen reached out to hold him, to make sure the night before hadn’t been a dream, but his side of the bed was empty. Not again…

  “Leo?” She recognized the panic in her voice and forced a deep breath. This was not like last time.

  It wasn’t until the buzzing in her ears stopped that she heard whistling and the relaxing sound of water running from the master bedroom en suite. Relief settled her queasy stomach and she sighed.

  So it still bothered her after all this time. Here she’d hoped she’d grown up some. Pushing the covers off her, she pulled an afghan from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around herself as she walked to the window. She pulled back the curtain and groaned at the sight of the winter wonderla
nd outside. Her shoulder muscles tensed and the pain radiated to her neck, and she turned her head from side to side to stretch out the knots. No sense worrying about Natasha and her job. This particular circumstance was out of her control, and if Natasha couldn’t see that then she’d be losing a great assistant. Karen saw her attempt at looking confident in the window’s reflection and frowned. Oh, who was she kidding? Natasha probably had a happy dance choreographed and ready to go, but not without one last coffee run request.

  Turning away from the window, Karen debated crawling back under the warm duvet and waiting for Leo to join her. Unfortunately, nature’s call urged her into the washroom.

  Leo peeked around the shower curtain when she entered, and smiled. His gaze focused on her breasts. “Morning.”

  “Morning. I need to use the toilet.”

  Leo disappeared behind the shower curtain. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  When had she become so comfortable with this man that she could go to the washroom with him in the room? After all the things they had done the night before was when. Karen’s cheeks burned remembering what they had done with the wine.

  He’d kept her up most of the night as they’d rediscovered each other, and it was better than she’d ever dreamed. He’d whispered Italian love words in her ear, but her favorite moment was the one in which he’d said, “My love.” It had struck a chord even she hadn’t realized she’d had.

  What they had yet to discuss was his revelation that the bone-melting kiss in the restaurant had been from Leo…

  “Are you joining me any time soon?” Leo called from the other side of the curtain.

  Karen shook off the bit of joy and confusion that had settled in her belly and flushed the toilet. Leo’s shrieks were music to her ears as she joined him.

  »»•««

  “How much time do you need to get ready?” Leo asked as he towel-dried his hair after their extra-long session of lovemaking in the shower.

  “Not too long. I need to ask Bea if she has a blow dryer.”

  “Okay, good. I’ll go find Walter and get a few more details worked out.”

  “Are you going on a tour of the vineyard?”

  “I doubt it.” He pulled the curtain back and looked outside. “It may be sunny, but there’s a lot of snow.”

  Karen joined him at the window. “Are we going to be able to get your car out of here?”

  The scent of Dove soap from her skin invaded his senses, along with a hint of mint. If he didn’t watch it, he’d have her naked and back in that bed.

  Leo stepped away to help clear his head. “Walter already offered to pull us to the main road.”

  Karen turned to face him, a small frown on her face. “Really?”

  “We could stay here another night,” he suggested.

  Her hesitation gave him a bit of hope, but then she sighed and shook her head. “We can’t.”

  And there it was—back to reality.

  “Another time then?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Leo watched as the look in her eyes turned wary. She didn’t trust him, and he still didn’t know how to open up. With her or his family. The protective armor was always on. Well, he didn’t need this grief, he decided suddenly. He had more important things to worry about—like getting his Porsche back to New York in one piece.

  He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and left the room.

  His search for Walter ended quickly as he found him behind the front desk assisting another couple. Zipping up his coat, Leo went outside to find his car free of snow and a plowed path leading into the treed archway.

  He unlocked the car door, sat behind the steering wheel, and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life. He could always rely on his metal baby to behave. Unlike a certain woman inside the warm and cozy B&B. Last night she had been all fire and passion, a dream come true. Hell, thinking about their shower earlier this morning had him hard and aching. Then she had done a one-eighty and pow— she was a woman he didn’t recognize. A woman who lacked confidence in her job, her ability to lead, and her talent for design.

  But even more irksome was the thought of Karen with Paul. And if he weren’t careful, Leo would push her right into his arms.

  He turned off the engine and headed back to the foyer, where Walter sat waiting for him. He placed his hopes on shop talk to cure his troubled thoughts as he followed Walter back outside.

  »»•««

  The enticing aroma of homemade bread filled Karen’s nostrils as she strolled into the kitchen. Bea stood at the counter forming buns and humming a tune that reminded Karen of a lullaby.

  “Good morning, Bea.”

  “Ah, there you are. How did you sleep?”

  Karen’s cheeks burned under Bea’s scrutiny. “Umm, good.”

  “I think not. You didn’t sleep.” Bea winked at her and returned her concentration to the dough.

  Karen’s mind raced. Had they been loud the night before? Had the other guests complained? OMG.

  “Bea, if we disturbed anyone—”

  “Don’t be silly,” Bea scolded. She put the last bun in the pan beside her, laid a towel on top, and then placed the pan on the table in a ray of sunshine to rise. “Now come wash up and knead this for me. My hands aren’t what they used to be.”

  Karen did as she was told. She sprinkled some flour on the dough and powdered her hands then started working the dough—out, over, in, flip. The repetitive movements were relaxing, and soon her tense shoulder muscles loosened.

  Being in the kitchen cooking brought back wonderful memories of when Anna and her aunt and uncle lived with her. A year ago, their house had been slated for demolition, so Karen had invited them into her home. She’d loved having them there. People to care for and to have conversations with, other than her cat, Charlie. Having lost her parents to a car crash when she was eighteen, Karen cherished families that were still together. Perhaps if she hadn’t been an only child…

  Which was why Leo’s attitude toward his family drove her crazy. Didn’t he know how lucky he was to have people who loved him, people to joke and laugh with, fight with, rely on…unconditionally?

  But she knew most families didn’t fit that happily-ever-after mold.

  “Karen, dear. You’re beating up the poor dough.”

  Bea’s voice cut through her thoughts. Karen groaned, put her hands up, and stepped back from the counter.

  “Sorry.”

  “You’re sorry for many things.”

  Karen wanted to blame it on her Canadian roots but bit her tongue. “Apparently so.”

  “Is it about your man, Leo?”

  “Oh, he’s not my man.” Karen avoided Bea’s glare as she pulled leftover dough off her hands.

  “You are a smart woman?”

  Karen lifted her chin and met Bea’s gaze. “I like to think so.”

  “Then you’re short-sighted.”

  “Well, yes, I do wear glasses when I have detailed seamstress work to do, but—”

  “You love him.”

  Karen’s mouth dropped open. A deafening silence filled the kitchen. Only after a minute could she hear a clock ticking in the other room. A rush of heat flowed from her head to her toes, and then her cheeks turned icy. She thought she might faint. “I…no.”

  “Ha. You young know nothing.”

  “I think I would know if I was in love.” Bea grunted and took over kneading the dough. “And no disrespect, but you don’t even know me. This is the first time we’ve spoken since we arrived yesterday.”

  Bea kept her head down and her hands busy. “You are scared.”

  Karen stared at Bea. She wasn’t scared—she was terrified. All her bravado of a moment ago vanished, and she bowed her head. “How do you…? I don’t understand.”

  Her stomach swirled with anxiety, and the urge to shout overwhelmed her.

  Bea wiped her hands on the towel she’d flung over her shoulder and made her way over to Karen. She took her hands and squee
zed, the warmth like a soothing balm.

  “I have been around for a long, long time, Miss Karen. Young couples, old couples…so much alike when they come to visit our B&B.”

  Karen looked into Bea’s eyes, and the wisdom she saw in them awed her.

  Bea led her to the window nook and they sat. “There is false love. Hateful looks and words meant to hurt and belittle the other. Then we have one-sided love, where usually the man goes out of his way to impress the woman and gets nothing back.”

  Reclining against the window, Karen tucked her leg under her bum and relaxed. Bea’s voice took on a hypnotic tone that eased the anxiety building up in Karen’s stomach.

  “We must not forget the lovey-dovey lovers who make you want to gag.”

  Karen laughed. “Definitely not.”

  “Another form of false love. It may seem cute in the eyes of the public, but once they get home it is a poisoned love doomed to fail, because there is no communication, lots of secrets, and no common ground.

  “And then we have real love. These couples fight, laugh, talk, care, kiss, and when the other is not looking, they are smitten. You and Leo have real love. I can feel it down to my bones.”

  Karen shook her head. “We are experts at fighting.”

  “Good.”

  “There hasn’t been much laughing this past week.”

  “But there has been some?”

  “Yes,” Karen agreed as the week reeled through her mind.

  “And you have good talks, yes?”

  A sarcastic laugh left her lips. “No, we don’t. I try, I really do, but he always changes the subject.”

  “What do you ask him about?”

  This woman had no shame, Karen realized. And for some reason, neither did she. “Well…why he left me without a word five years ago.”

  “Hmm, I would want an answer too.”

  “See! I’m not being unreasonable.”

  “But, do you want this answer?”

  Karen caught herself before shouting out a wholehearted yes. Hadn’t she been telling herself lately that it didn’t matter anymore after all these years?

  “My head says it doesn’t matter, but he broke my heart—and my heart wants to know.”

  “The heart sometimes wants what it doesn’t need.”