She didn’t shy away from the contact. Instead, her hand caressed his length, inflaming him even more. Her eyes, when he looked into them, gleamed with a naked hunger that left him reeling.
“I want you, too, Steve,” she breathed. “I’m wet for you. If you want to take me now, here, I’m ready.”
He nearly exploded when she said that, and his mouth ravaged hers with a savage fierceness. There was nothing more in the world he would rather do than lay her against the cushions of the sofa, remove the clothing from both their bodies, and slide his aching length inside her.
Something, some small pocket of sanity, held him back from doing just that. Yes, she would make love with him now, if that was what he wanted to do. And the wonder of it would shatter them both. Despite that, in the morning she would despise both him and herself for her weakness. And for him, it would make the leaving, when the time came, that much more difficult.
Somehow he managed to summon the strength to pull his mouth from hers. He unclasped the hands that had locked around his neck and gently but firmly placed them in her lap.
“No,” she moaned. “Don’t.”
Gritting his teeth against the wave of desire that once more swept over him, he prayed for strength. “This isn’t the time or the place, Kate.”
She looked as though she wanted to protest. To his relief, however, she nodded curtly and clamped her mouth shut. “You’re right.”
For a long moment, they simply sat there, staring at each other, their breathing ragged.
“I didn’t want this to happen.” He was speaking of more than the kiss.
She seemed to understand, because she nodded and said, “I know. I didn’t, either.”
His heart was still racing. “Now that it has, what are we going to do about it?”
“I wish I had an answer.”
He wished he did, too. “We can’t pretend it never happened.”
“No,” she agreed. “We can’t.”
“And we can’t pretend that the problems that broke up our marriage have miraculously disappeared.”
“That would be beyond foolish.” She peered at him closely. “This has really shaken you up, hasn’t it? Even more than it’s shaken me.”
He spoke without thinking. “I guess it has. It’s just... What happened tonight was too much like that other time, when we were first married and—” Too late, he realized she’d been talking about them, not the smoke bomb, and that he’d said too much. Way too much.
“What other time?” He could see the curiosity in her eyes, and the confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. It’s not important.”
As he’d known she would, she refused to let it go. “I think it is important. What did you mean, tonight was like that other time, when we were first married?”
This was it, he thought. This was where it all hit the fan. Maybe it was for the best Because when she found out about his deception, he wouldn’t have to worry about fighting his love for her. She’d never let him close enough for there to be anything to fight.
“Remember Lyle Benedict?”
Her brow furrowed. “Of course. What’s he have to do with this?”
“Right after we got married, when I testified against him and he was convicted, he threatened to kill you.”
Shock widened her eyes. “I didn’t know that.”
He steeled himself mentally for what was to come. “That’s because I made a conscious decision not to tell you.”
Fury quickly replaced the shock in her eyes. “Are you saying that my life was in danger, and you didn’t tell me about it? How could you!”
He sat there, head erect, ready to take the punishment he knew would rain down on him. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“You didn’t want to worry me,” she mocked. “But we’re talking about my life here. Sounds like I had every right to be worried.”
“In hindsight, no. Lyle never tried to carry out his threat.”
“But at the time, you thought he might.”
“Yes.”
“And you decided, all on your own, that you weren’t going to tell me about it.”
He’d wrestled long and hard with his conscience over his decision. When he’d spoken to her brothers about it, they’d assured him he was doing the right thing. Kate was pregnant and highly emotional. She was also so very young and unspoiled, too sweet to be touched by such ugliness.
“I made certain you were safe,” he told her. “You had nothing to worry about.”
“Obviously. How could I worry when I didn’t know there was something to worry about?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “So, how did you make certain I was safe?”
Her voice was quiet and controlled. Too quiet. And far too controlled. He knew then that he’d lost her. Ignoring the pain that felt like a fist squeezing his heart, he gave her the answer she sought.
“It was relatively easy. If you weren’t busy writing, you were sewing something for the nursery. About the only time you went out was to buy groceries or to go to the post office. All I really needed to do was keep a guard outside the apartment. Your brothers helped.”
Her laughter held no humor. “So my brothers were in on it, too. I should have known.”
Was it only minutes ago that her eyes had blazed with desire for him? Looking at her now, he found it hard to believe. Equally hard to imagine was the thought that she would ever again look at him with need.
“I did what I thought was right,” he maintained.
“Well, it was all wrong,” she said heatedly. “The right thing to do was to tell me about it, not treat me like some delicate piece of porcelain that would shatter at the slightest touch. I wouldn’t have fallen apart, you know. I think I’ve more than proven that this past week.”
Okay, he conceded, so maybe he’d been wrong. But he’d made his decision with the best of intentions. Did she have to sit there looking at him as though she were Little Red Riding Hood and he the Big Bad Wolf who’d just swallowed up grandma?
“Maybe,” he said, fighting an answering anger, “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to shield you from all the ugliness that was my life before you came into it And maybe I didn’t tell you because it was the only way I knew you’d ever let me take care of you. It’s awfully hard, Kate, being with somebody who doesn’t need you for anything.”
That seemed to shake her up a bit, he noted in satisfaction. Her confusion didn’t last long, however. She catapulted from the sofa and crossed the room, seemingly trying to put as much space between them as possible.
Back to him, she said in a voice raw with emotion, “I thought you cherished my independence as much as I did. I thought you didn’t want a clinging vine.”
“I didn’t...don’t.” He thrust his fingers through his hair. “Hell, no matter how I try to explain it, I’m going to say it wrong. I didn’t keep it from you to hurt you, Kate. Or to be overly macho and protective. Can’t you see that?”
She whirled to face him. “You know what’s really ironic? I was beginning to hope that maybe things had changed, that you had changed, even though you said you hadn’t. But you’re not going to change, are you? You have no interest in changing. I’ll always need something from you that you can’t give me. And I can’t change who and what I am for you.”
“Have I ever asked you to?” he said softly.
“No, Steve.” Her eyes filled with sorrow. “That’s the problem, don’t you see? You’ve never asked me for anything, except to be a warm body in bed next to you at night. All you’ve done is walk away when the going got tough.”
“Meaning,” he said, “when you were spoiling for a fight.”
“Exactly. You’ll never open up to me. If you can’t even confide in me when my life is in danger, how can I expect you to share what you’re feeling in your heart?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
She sighed. “Nothing, I suppose. It’s impossible, isn’t it? You and me
, I mean.”
“It always was impossible.” He paused, then asked the question that had lain heavy on his mind since the Scrabble game. “Did you really leave me because I wouldn’t fight with you?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that. But yes, that was part of the reason. Why did you think I left?”
“Because you fell out of love with me.”
She gazed at him for a long minute before replying, “It would have made things a whole lot easier if I had.”
Was she saying that she’d still been in love with him when she asked for the divorce? If that was the case, did she love him now? Just a little bit? He opened his mouth to ask, then decided the question would have to wait. She’d been through a lot that evening, and she looked dead on her feet.
Besides, he wasn’t sure he could take it if her answer wasn’t the one he wanted to hear. And it really was a moot point, since she wasn’t about to forgive him for not telling her about Lyle Benedict’s threat.
“It’s nearly three o’clock,” he said softly. “You should go to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
A bitter light gleamed in her eyes, and her smile was sad. “I knew you wouldn’t ask.”
“Kate—” he began, then stopped. Now really wasn’t the time.
“What?”
He heard the note of hope in her voice and steadfastly ignored it. “Nothing,” he said. “Get some sleep.”
Chapter 14
Kate had never been so furious with anyone in her life. How dare he! How dare Steve not tell her about Lyle Benedict and his threat.
All her life, in one way or another, men had conspired to protect her. Her brothers after her mother died, and then Steve after they married. At least now she knew why he’d followed her every move during the first weeks of their marriage. She should have known better than to fall for a man who was just like her brothers. Trouble was, she hadn’t known he was just like them, until after she’d said, “I do.”
And whose fault was that? Hers and hers alone. She’d been so feverishly in love that she’d taken the ultimate step—lovemaking, which had led to an unplanned pregnancy, which had led to marriage—before she’d gotten to know him. So even though she was furious with Steve, she was even more furious with herself. Not only had she married a man she really didn’t know, but, after it had proven a disaster, she’d allowed herself to hope they could start all over again, even though she knew nothing had changed. The old adage was definitely true: there really was no fool like an old fool.
For the better part of the next day, Kate studiously avoided Steve’s company. Since the house was so huge, it wasn’t hard. If he walked into the library, she went into the kitchen. If he came in there, she stalked to the bedroom he’d assigned her and slammed the door. She knew she was behaving childishly, but she was still so angry she could spit. By ten o’clock that evening, though, she knew they had to talk.
Predictably she found him hard at work in the library. “I still want to go to the cemetery tomorrow,” she announced without preamble.
Steve didn’t bother looking up from the paperwork spread across the huge mahogany desk. “No.”
Her voice rose disbelievingly. “No?”
He looked up then. “After last night, it’s too dangerous. Surely you can see that.”
After last night, all she could see was the impossibility of them ever working things out. “I told you before that I wasn’t going to let this nut control my life. I want to go to the cemetery, Steve. And I want to go tomorrow. I need to go.”
“No.”
She wasn’t about to be deterred. “I don’t believe this is your choice to make,” she said, hands clenched at her sides. “I hired you, remember? And I can fire you. Now, I’m going to the cemetery tomorrow. The only question remaining is, who will be going with me—you, or my new bodyguard?”
For just a minute, as their gazes warred and she saw a fury equal to her own in his eyes, Kate thought she’d gone too far, and that he was about to tell her in no uncertain terms exactly what she could do with this job. Angry as she was at him, it was the last thing she wanted. Steve was the only person she trusted to keep her safe, particularly after last night’s events.
“Me,” he finally said through gritted teeth.
Relief coursed through her. “Thank you,” she replied with as much dignity as she could muster.
Turning on her heel, she marched out of the room. She’d won the battle, and the victory should taste sweet. So why did it taste like ashes in her mouth?
The sudden brightness jolted Kate out of a deep sleep. Disoriented, and not yet ready to wake up, she pulled the covers over her head and tried to recapture a rapidly fading dream.
“Rise and shine,” she heard Steve say.
“Huh?” Blinking, she lowered the covers and rose up on her elbows. When her pupils adjusted to the light, she peered blearily at the bedside clock. “It’s only five-thirty. What are you doing here?”
“You wanted to go to the cemetery. I agreed to take you. I’m ready to go.”
Hands in his pockets, he leaned indolently against the door frame. He was fully dressed in a navy blue suit and white cotton shirt. A mocking gleam lit his eyes. Even though she was still furious with him, and his behavior this morning only served to make her madder still, Kate’s heart skipped a beat just looking at him.
And she’d thought her behavior the day before was childish. This little stunt of his gave new meaning to the word.
“It’s five-thirty in the morning, Steve,” she said wearily. Turning on her side, she pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes. “Only grave robbers go to the cemetery at this ungodly hour.”
“Which is exactly why we’re going. So your biggest fan won’t be lurking about.”
Drat the man, but what he said made sense. She was a creature of habit. If her biggest fan knew that—which he undoubtedly did, since he seemed to know everything else about her—it would be an easy thing for him to lie in wait She cracked an eyelid and saw Steve glancing at his watch.
“You’ve got exactly ten minutes to get dressed and meet me downstairs,” he said. “Better get moving. Time’s a wastin’. Of course, if you’d rather go back to sleep...”
Kate tossed her covers aside and glared at him. “I’ll be ready.”
“I’ll see you downstairs, then.”
A lock of hair fell over one eye, and she impatiently brushed it away. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
With a smug smile, he pulled away from the door frame and stood erect. “Very much, thank you.”
When the door closed behind him, she picked up her pillow and threw it. Since it was stuffed with feathers, it was heavy enough to make a satisfactory thud against the wood. Kate wasn’t certain, but she thought she heard Steve chuckle.
Exactly ten minutes later, wearing sweatpants, a T-shirt and tennis shoes, she met him at the front door.
Steve nodded his approval. “I like a woman who’s punctual.”
It took a great effort of will, and much gritting of teeth, but she refrained from slugging him.
Neither one of them spoke during the ten-minute drive. When they passed through the cemetery gates, the sun was just beginning its climb over the horizon.
They went to her mother’s grave first. Steve accompanied Kate, while three bodyguards stationed themselves at strategic points throughout the cemetery.
After paying her respects to her mother, Kate climbed a small hill. The headstone that marked her daughter’s final resting spot lay adjacent to the spreading branches of an old oak tree. Steve lagged several steps behind. When she glanced back at him, she couldn’t help noticing how reluctant he seemed. He looked for all the world like a man walking to his execution.
A familiar tightness filled Kate’s chest when she reached the grave. Kneeling before the marble marker that was inscribed with their daughter’s name, she traced the letters with loving fingers. Molly Marie Gallagher.
Wo
uld the sharp ache of her loss ever leave her? Kate wondered. Would she ever be able to come here, to think of Molly, without her heart contracting with an unbearable pain?
Blinking back tears, she looked over her shoulder at Steve, who still stood a good five feet away. Understanding dawned. “You’ve never been here, have you?”
“Not since the funeral,” he said in a choked voice.
His face was pinched, his body rigid, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. It was obvious to Kate that the last place on earth he wanted to be was here.
“Why not?”
“I can’t bear it.”
“And I can’t stay away,” she murmured softly.
There was a long silence while they both stared at the grave.
“It’s all my fault,” Steve said, the words erupting from him like lava from a volcano.
Kate blinked. “What is?”
“That Molly died.”
She stared at him in shock. “Why would you think that?”
“Because it’s true.” He thrust his fingers through his hair, then turned away.
After rising to her feet, Kate crossed to stand behind him. For the first time, she realized that his pain was as fresh, as cutting as hers, and her heart went out to him.
“Why would you think that, Steve?” she repeated, raising a hand to his shoulder.
His sigh came from the depths of his soul. “You begged me not to go out that night. But I wouldn’t listen. The investigation into Quincy’s activities had reached a critical point, and I was gung ho to get everything wrapped up before the baby was born. And then I came home, and you were gone. All that was left was a note, and the blood. So much blood. Maybe if I’d stayed with you, the way you wanted, this wouldn’t have happened.” His voice broke. “Maybe our little girl would be alive today.”
Heart aching for him, Kate forgot all about her anger. She also forgot that three other people were watching them. Had Steve been carrying this terrible burden around with him all this time? How had he been able to bear it?
“Oh, Steve.” She moved to stand in front of him. “It’s not your fault.”
Guardian Groom Page 20