by Amy DeLuca
Alex fought to stay still, to keep his breathing quiet and even.
And then she did the most shocking thing.
Leaning forward, she held her face inches from his for what seemed like hours… then placed the softest kiss on his lips.
Quickly getting to her feet, she hurried over to the other sofa, lay down on it, and covered herself with a blanket.
Meanwhile, Alex was grateful to be horizontal himself. Otherwise he would have fallen over.
Why had she kissed him? What could it mean?
Cinda had been nothing but standoffish to him—when she wasn’t being downright hostile.
His mind raced, giving his heart some competition. Both of them charged toward the same finish line—she still cared for him—or at least felt some residual attraction. She just didn’t want him to know it.
He couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to say something. “I missed you, you know.”
It was the absolute truth. It also made him sound pathetic. Her unexpected kiss had clearly knocked something loose in his head.
But now that he’d said it, Alex wasn’t sorry. It was true, and whatever had happened to make her stand him up five years ago, he thought she should know.
Cinda didn’t move. She didn’t even seem to be breathing.
Finally, he heard her voice, soft and quiet in the firelit room.
“I thought you were asleep.”
Fifteen
You Didn’t Know
Why why why had she done that?
It was stupid, and she knew it. But he’d looked so beautiful, his sleeping face relaxed and peaceful and touched by the glow of firelight.
It had reminded Cinda so much of all the nights they’d sat together on the beach in front of a bonfire, talking for hours and hours.
When Alex had spoken, she’d almost gotten up and gone back upstairs without a word. But it was cold up there and soooo warm and cozy in here.
And she was tired. Tired of trying to dodge him, tired of running from the past.
Tired of wondering and never knowing.
“I was sleeping.” The low, graveled sound of Alex’s voice backed up his words. “But something woke me.”
Right. A kiss. A stupid, idiotic, impulsive kiss. Did he remember it? Maybe he wasn’t sure what had awakened him.
He pushed up to one elbow. His hair was rumpled, somehow making him even more appealing. His eyes roamed over her, taking in her face and bundled-up body.
“Are you cold?”
“Not anymore,” Cinda said truthfully. Her body temperature had skyrocketed in the past minute. “How long has the power been out?”
“I’m not sure. No clock.” Alex paused. “Did you hear what I said?”
She wasn’t sure how to respond. Of course she’d heard. How could she have missed it?
I missed you, you know.
The words had struck her like a dagger. A rusty one with jagged edges. If he’d missed her so much, why had he never even bothered to contact her after he left?
Talking about it could get complicated. But Cinda wanted to know. And she supposed the conversation was inevitable. Alex had proved he wasn’t going to easily take “no comment” for a response.
She decided to answer his question with one of her own. “Why did you leave?”
“The country? I left because I had to go home with my family. We were going back to Aubernesse. I told you I had to go.”
“I know but… well, I thought maybe you’d stay after what happened. At least for a little while.”
“What do you mean ‘what happened?’ After you decided not to meet me on the dock, you mean?” His tone was bewildered. “I thought something horrible had happened to you, you know. I checked all the area hospitals, the police. Then I tried tracking you down, but I finally took the hint. You didn’t want to speak to me.”
Now Cinda pushed up to her elbow, staring at Alex across the dimly-lit room.
“What are you talking about? My father died. Of course I wanted to speak to you.”
There was a moment of utter silence.
“Your father died?” he said.
Silence reigned for a few more moments as something became clear to Cinda.
“You didn’t know.”
It was a statement, not a question. And if Alex didn’t know about her father’s heart attack, then he never knew why she hadn’t shown up that night for their date.
“No, Cinda. I had no idea. I’m so sorry. When did it happen?”
“That night—at the end of the workday. He had a massive heart attack. I called the ambulance and rode in the back with him. I was at the hospital with him all night while they were trying to save his life. He didn’t make it.”
“Why didn’t you contact me?” he asked. “I would have come. I would have been there with you.”
“You didn’t have a phone, remember? I asked my stepsister Traci to get a message to you at the club. And I went back there after… you know, the funeral.”
Even now a lump stuck in Cinda’s throat as she recounted the events of those horrible first few days. “I was told your family had left—gone for the season. I didn’t know the name of your hometown or even your real last name. There was no way I could reach you.”
Alex’s head dropped until he stared at the cushion beneath him.
“I can’t believe this. All these years I thought you didn’t come that night because you didn’t want to see me, because you wanted a clean break or something. Do you know I called every “Brown” in the directory looking for you?”
Cinda shook her head, stunned. It had never occurred to her that Alex had tried to reach her and been unable to.
“Why didn’t you just call the cleaning company I worked for? The club could have given you the number.”
“I did,” he said, growing more animated. “That was the first place I tried reaching you. The woman who answered the phone said you didn’t work there anymore, and she had no idea how to find you—that you were just seasonal help.”
Cinda’s thoughts tangled, trying to make sense of it. “That’s crazy. My father owned the company. Everyone who worked there knew me.”
She thought for a minute. Who would have answered the phone and told Alex a lie like that?
Julia.
“You must have spoken to my stepmother. I’m not sure why she would have said that, though. She didn’t even know about you. She and I weren’t exactly close—still aren’t.”
He shook his head, letting out a loud exhale. “I didn’t stop trying until I’d spoken to someone at every Brown household in the state. Maybe I even spoke with your stepmother again at your home. Are you sure she didn’t know about me?”
“Alex, I didn’t even know about you—about your real identity I mean. How could she have?”
“Maybe she routinely lied to young men who called your house asking for you,” he suggested. “Or maybe…”
The words died on his lips.
“Alex? What? Maybe what?”
His expression was grave. Actually, no—that was the wrong word. He looked furious.
“Maybe my parents knew about you. When I get back to the mainland, I’ll be having a serious conversation with them.”
“You think they did something to interfere? To keep you from finding me?”
“I wouldn’t put it past my father. He’s a means-justify-the-ends kind of person. And he believes duty trumps everything else. Maybe he found out about the ring.”
Cinda’s heart seized, flashing from hot to cold to hot again. Suddenly sweltering, she threw off her covers and sat upright.
“What ring?”
Alex took a deep breath and met her eyes directly before answering. “I asked you to meet me that night because… there was something I wanted to ask you. Something life-changing.”
She felt light-headed. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, threatening to drown out Alex’s next words.
“I wanted to meet at the docks because I’d hired a bo
at to bring us here—to this house,” he said. “A house I’d bought for us. Me and you. I knew my parents wouldn’t approve, that they’d do everything possible to change my mind. They had something else planned for my life—a political marriage that would benefit our country. That’s why I didn’t tell them. But maybe someone did.”
“Alex,” Cinda whispered. She honestly didn’t know what else to say. And she had no breath to say it with anyway.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, Cinda. I’m sorry I gave up on us. I should have known.” He swallowed. “I loved you. I was planning to give up the throne, my home—even my family for you if necessary. I would never have left you to go through that alone if I’d known.”
If, if, and if. What a hateful word. If only she’d known the real reason she’d never heard from Alex again. If only so much time hadn’t passed. If only life hadn’t moved on since then.
If only she didn’t have so much to lose.
“I’m sorry too,” Cinda said, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry you believed I stood you up. I hate to think of you standing all alone out there on that dock.”
That was when she lost the battle. A choked sob clogged her throat, preventing any further words. Cinda brought her hands up to cover her face, embarrassed to break down like this in front of him.
Within moments, Alex was there, kneeling in front of her. His arms went around her, pulling her wet face against his neck, a large hand running up and down her back in soothing strokes.
It was the first time they’d touched in years, and the contact was heavenly.
“Don’t cry,” he said and made a shhhh noise as he continued to rub her back. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. At least now we know the truth.”
He shifted back so he could see her face. His was far too close, and the look in his eyes was far too tender.
His hands on her shoulders were too gentle. For a moment Cinda thought he might kiss her.
And that she might want him to.
Alex’s voice was filled with emotion when he spoke again. “There’s so much I want to know about you—what your life is like now, what happened with you the past five years.”
In an instant her insides chilled, reality intruding on the magical moment like an icy breeze through a door blown open in a blizzard.
Their mutual revelations about the end of their relationship didn’t change anything.
It had ended. And the risk of her losing AJ was still just as great.
She didn’t know how Alex had changed over the past five years either—or how he might react to finding out he had a son.
Cinda’s phone rang.
Saved by the bell—literally.
She scrambled for it, profoundly grateful for the excuse to remove herself from Alex’s too-tempting proximity.
“I have to take this. Excuse me.”
Sixteen
Irate Caveman
Cinda gripped the phone like it was a lifeline.
Walking quickly away toward the cold, dark dining room, she answered.
“Hello?” A pause as she listened. “Oh, hi sweetie.”
Sweetie? She closed the dining room door behind her, so Alex couldn’t hear the next few words. But he desperately wanted to.
Feeling like a total creeper, he got up and tiptoed toward the dining room, pressing his ear against the door.
Cinda’s voice on the other side sounded like marshmallows dipped in honey, soft and sweet. “What are you doing up so late? Oh, you couldn’t sleep? Is the storm keeping you awake?”
With every soothing word, the rock in Alex’s stomach gained weight. She assured the person on the other end of the line she’d be home soon and that she missed him, and jealousy blazed in his gut like a fresh twig thrown into the fire.
Which was absurd. They hadn’t seen each other in years. He had zero right to be jealous. He’d dated other people since then too.
But unlike him, Cinda had apparently fallen in love with someone new.
He couldn’t keep himself from wishing it was him that she spoke to with such obvious affection, him that she was promising to get home to as soon as possible.
Just before hanging up, she drove the final nail into the coffin of his newly formed hopes. She told the guy, “I love you.”
The dining room door opened suddenly, and Alex stumbled backward. So busted.
Clearly surprised to find him standing on the other side, Cinda jumped. “What are you doing?”
Alex thought fast. He offered his arm. “Making sure you don’t trip in the dark.”
She narrowed her eyes at him but allowed Alex to lead her back into the warmth and light of the living room.
Trying desperately to keep his voice casual, he asked, “Who was that?”
His attempt at nonchalance must have failed because her expression changed. For some reason she looked… resigned, for lack of a better word.
“You were listening?” she asked.
“You’re in love with him,” he stated the obvious.
Cinda bit her lip, her eyebrows drawn together in a pensive expression. “I wouldn’t say ‘in love.’”
“But you do love him.”
“Yes. I do… but that was not what you think it was.”
“Tell me that wasn’t a guy,” he challenged, pointing at the phone still in her hand.
He wasn’t stupid—he knew what he’d heard. There had been love in her voice.
Cinda hesitated, her eyes searching the room before coming back to meet his.
“I can’t.”
“So, you have a serious boyfriend. You love him. Why don’t you want to talk about it?”
And why was he acting like this? Alex had no right to ask. It was none of his business. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. He had to know.
Hearing Cinda speaking those sweet words to another guy had apparently driven him beyond the point of reason.
She looked like she was on the verge of crying. Which made no sense.
“I don’t have a boyfriend, okay? I don’t date.”
Wait… what?
“Look, a lot has changed since we were together,” she said. “I’m a totally different person now. So are you. There’s no need for us to bare our souls at this point.”
Cinda pulled away from his grip, grabbing her pillow from the sofa before rushing toward the stairs. “I’m going to sleep in my room.”
Alex was right on her heels. “Oh no you don’t. You’re not running away this time. Why don’t you date? Cinda. Why did you say you have no plans to marry? Answer me.”
Picking up speed, she reached the dark staircase and started running up, taking the stairs two at a time.
“Cinda,” he repeated, still following and growing hotter by the second. “Did something happen to you? I can find out, you know. I have billions of dollars at my disposal, so you might as well tell me.”
“Leave me alone,” she yelled back over her shoulder.
Alex’s exasperation converted to fear in an instant when she lost her footing. With a yelp, she went down, falling hard on the wooden stairs.
Instinctively, he reached out, stopping her from rolling any farther down the staircase.
Lowering himself, he sat on a riser beside her, his arm going around her back to steady her.
“Are you okay?”
Her head shook in tiny jerks. Though she didn’t cry out, she was rocking back and forth, holding her ankle and whimpering in pain.
“I think it might be broken.”
Oh no. Please don’t let it be broken. Block Island had a medical center, but it would be closed at this hour even if there was no storm raging outside.
It was too dark on the stairs to check her injury, so Alex scooped Cinda up and carried her back down to the sofa. Kneeling beside it, he propped the ankle she was favoring on a cushion.
“Let me look at it,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument.
She nodded her consent, now squeezing h
er eyes tightly closed. Lying back on her pillow, she breathed rapidly through her nose as Alex turned her leg and gingerly prodded the ankle with his fingertips.
“I don’t think it’s broken,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m no expert, but I’ve twisted my ankle a few times playing sports. I think you might have stretched or torn some ligaments.”
He turned to check her face, feeling more than a little guilty. He couldn’t be sure with the low lighting, but she looked pale to him.
“How much pain are you in?”
She panted. “It’s okay. Not so bad.” But a thin sheen of sweat had broken out on her upper lip, and she was grimacing.
“Liar.” Alex rose to his feet. “There are some first aid supplies and pain reliever up in my bathroom. Be right back.”
Grabbing a candle to light his way, he went upstairs, found the kit, and rushed back down.
“Okay, I’ve got a few ice packs here.”
He took one out of its wrapper, squeezed and shook it and laid it on her ankle. Cutting a strip of gauze, he wrapped it around her foot to hold the ice pack in place.
Then he shook three tablets into his hand and went to get a glass of water from the kitchen. He returned to Cinda and offered them to her.
“Take these. They’ll help with the pain.”
She nodded, reached for the pills and the glass. “What are they?”
“The two red ones are ibuprofen. The white one’s a muscle relaxer. It’ll make you drowsy and hopefully help you sleep.”
She swallowed all three. “Thanks.”
“What else can I do?”
“Nothing. I’ll be okay,” she said, then her eyes met his. “I’m sorry.”
Shame twisted his stomach into a tight knot. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. It was dark, and an irate caveman was chasing you. I should be apologizing to you for being so pushy.”
“No, I mean I’m sorry for running away like that. About… not telling you.”
Alex’s heart stopped for a moment before picking up again in a new, faster rhythm.
“Telling me what?”