by Unknown
“You probably didn’t recognize it.” He looked at her sharply. “The name read Annalise Ramsey.” He stopped in his tracks and stood in front of her, effectively blocking her path.
“Ramsey? You’re married?” He hadn’t even allowed himself to consider this possibility. Fool!
“No, no,” she answered softly. He began to breathe again. “My marriage was a long time ago and only lasted a very short time. I just kept the name to remind myself not to make that sort of mistake again.” Ethan couldn’t imagine anyone, once they tasted of her sweetness, willingly allowing her to slip through their fingers.
* * * *
She started to tease him and ask what he had against romance writers, but that subject seemed too trivial for so precious a time. They walked slowly back toward Antoinette’s Leap. “Come up to the house and eat with us, I’ve cooked a big batch of my homemade spaghetti sauce.”
“I remember your cooking, you always had more talents than any one man deserved to possess.”
“I think you may have been too young and inexperienced to be a proper judge of my talent.” Annalise noticed his voice was tight, as if he were worried. “You may not feel the same way about me, now
“What I lacked in experience, I tried to make up for with a high degree of enthusiasm.” She lowered her eyes, realizing what she had said could be interpreted as being highly provocative. She’d had every intention of avoiding this type of conversation; it was just that her body was singing with pleasure from being so close to him. It would be so easy to slip back into the role of his lover. To gain some perspective she forced herself to remember the sneers, the gasps, the flinches and the rejection she had endured from her husband and she knew seeing the same type of reaction from Ethan would surely kill her. His next words, however, did not make her conviction any easier to bear.
They came to her door and he turned to her, his gaze so hot she could feel the burn. “Your…uh, enthusiasm was the most incredible experience of my life.” His hand came up and soothed a strand of hair from her forehead. “I would give everything I own to make love to you again.”
Chapter Three
“I would give everything I own to make love to you again.”
When he said those words, her knees almost buckled. The realization of the full extent of her loss was almost more than she could handle. “Please, don’t say that, Ethan. So much has happened,” she pleaded with him. He unhooked the leash from Tiny’s collar and Tiny toddled off to nap. Ethan stood before her, close enough to make her quiver with need.
He forced himself not to touch her; he was trying to keep a clear head. Her scent was intoxicating, not the overpowering scent of some expensive perfume, but the clean, fresh scent of a woman who knew she did not need any artificial embellishments to be sexier than hell. “I need to know what happened to us, Lise. Where did you go? Why didn’t you come back? I didn’t give up, you know. I called the numbers you gave me, I talked to your friends, I even went to that backwoods hometown of yours and you were nowhere to be found. It was like you had dropped off the face of the earth.” Mere inches separated their overheated bodies. Ethan gave in to temptation and cupped his hand around her delicate neck, his thumb moving softly on the soft skin under her ear.
Annalise hung her head and refused to look at him. “I never intended to leave you, Ethan. It was never what I wanted. I couldn’t have come back to you right then—not after what happened to me, not even if you had wanted me to.”
He lifted her chin with gentle but firm pressure from his fingertips. He wanted to look her in the eyes as she talked. “What do you mean, even if I had wanted you? Of course, I wanted you. Our time together was the most wonderful experience of my life. I had every intention to continue seeing you. I wanted to explore what was between us, to see if we could possibly make it permanent. If something went wrong, why didn’t you call me and explain? I would have come to you, anywhere, anytime.”
She looked up at him, a small frown on her face. “Ethan, I did call you. You know that. Don’t pretend you don’t.” A little bit of panic filtered through her carefully maintained control.
“No. You didn’t. A phone call from you is something I definitely would remember.” His jaw clenched and a muscle in his cheek began to twitch. She so wanted to reach up and soothe his concern. She didn’t understand what he was saying, but it didn’t really matter now.
“Ethan, don’t do this, please. It doesn’t matter, now. It’s over. Those days and times are ancient history.”
“You’re wrong. It matters more than anything. Tell me, Lise. Tell me about the phone call.” He pressed her for an explanation.
She spoke gently, no condemnation in her voice. “I called you and a woman answered your cell. She didn’t identify herself and I didn’t ask. I told her I needed you. I told her to tell you I was in the hospital and that I needed you to come to me. She told me to hold on while she gave you the message. I did and when she came back, she told me you said it was over, that we were over, and that you had decided to move on. She said you hoped I would be all right, but you had no intention of coming to me.”
He ran a desperate hand through his hair, walked away from her and slammed a hard fist against the door. “No! No! Lise, I never got your message. I wouldn’t have said those things. If I had known where you were, if I’d had any idea you were hurt—I would have moved heaven and earth to be with you. I didn’t want what we had to be over. Our relationship was far too precious to me.” Ethan paced up and down the room, as if he were seeking some way to turn back the clock and make things right. He didn’t know what to think? Who answered his damn cell phone? “What day did you call?”
What difference did it make? She thought for a moment, trying to remember the date of her first surgery. This would have been the week before. “March 25th, I believe.”
“That was the week after spring break. That was the week I went searching for you. Shit! I didn’t take my cell phone with me. I left it in the Frat house.” It had to have been Francine. Damn her to hell! It was all beginning to make sense. Francine was sick as well as cruel. “It had to have been Francine. Lise, Francine lied. She didn’t want you to come back.”
“Come, let’s sit down.” She led him by the hand and they went to the couch. “Stop, worrying. It wasn’t your fault. Sometimes bad things happen and there is nothing we can do to change them.” She sat and pulled him down next to her. “I have come to terms with what happened. We had something extraordinary and I would not change one moment of our time together. I survived and moved on and it seems that you are doing well. I’m just grateful our paths have crossed one more time and we can have a sense of peace and closure about our past.” Annalise was putting on a brave front, but her words were a load of crap and she knew it. She would have given anything in the world to pick up where they left off, but that just wasn’t a possibility. Not with her scars.
“I still don’t understand, what happened to you? What were you doing in the hospital? Was it a car accident? Were you sick? What happened to you? Tell me the truth.” He was almost frantic in his questions.
She rose and walked away from him. He deserved to know the truth, just not the whole truth. She would tell him enough, but not the very worst part. Walking back to him, she knelt and sat down at his feet. This was the man she loved more than life itself. She had to be careful; she didn’t want him to be hurt any worse than he already had been. At this point, her feelings weren’t important at all. He was so precious and now that she knew he had not grown tired of her—well she wished it made a difference. It did in a way, it made their time together sacred, holy, even. But it still didn’t give them a future. Nothing could.
Almost absently, she let her hand rest on his knee, her fingers caressing the hard muscle of his thick, strong leg. “My family went to Houston over spring break. It was one of the few vacations we ever took as a family. I have a sister who is two years younger than me. Her name is Scarlet. This vacation was a treat for us. We
went to the amusement park and the aquarium.”
She watched his face; he was looking at her so intently. “Dad got us rooms at a downtown hotel. Not the best one, but a nice one. The third night we were there, we went to a seafood restaurant about four blocks from the hotel. We walked. Afterwards, we had plans to go to a movie.” She stopped to regain her composure. “You know what a klutz I am, I got so excited over the fried shrimp I spilled a half a bowl of cocktail sauce all over my dress.”
Ethan smiled; he had loved to watch her eat. She enjoyed her food, almost as much as she had enjoyed making love with him. “I didn’t want to go to the movies looking so messy, so I decided to walk back to the hotel and change clothes while the rest of them had dessert.” She smiled at him weakly. “I hadn’t planned on eating dessert. I didn’t want to put on weight over spring break; I was trying to stay pretty for you.” He reached for her, but she took his hand in hers, preventing him from drawing her into his lap.
He had a bad feeling about what she was about to say.
“I walked back to the hotel by myself. And I almost made it.”
The silence was deafening.
“What do you mean, you almost made it?”
“I crossed the last street and was about to walk past the last alley, when I was attacked. There were four of them. I didn’t have any money, so they, they…beat me.” Ethan jumped up; he refused to stay where he sat, and took her hand. She tried to pull away, but he held fast—he was much stronger than she was. He joined her on the floor, kneeling in front of her, pulling her into his arms, wrapping himself around her as if now, at this late date, he could shield her from harm. She continued to speak.
“I lost a lot of blood. I was in the hospital for a long time. I had two operations. I called you before I knew I needed to have the surgeries.” She couldn’t explain anymore without telling him where she was hurt and how bad. She pulled from his embrace, forcing herself to stand and put some distance between them. “But I’m all right now, everything works again. I just wish you hadn’t been hurt in the process.”
“Oh, God, baby. I’m so sorry you were hurt.” He pulled her to him and cradled her head on his shoulder. “When, you didn’t come back…I thought you regretted our time together.”
“Never. I came back, you know—to Austin and to UT. I missed one whole semester and then I came back. You, of course, were already gone, graduated and moved away. I hope that you’ve been happy.”
He said nothing. He just looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face.
She had to say something, had to break this maudlin mood. “Did you say something about spaghetti?”
“Lise…” Obviously, Ethan wasn’t ready to let it drop.
“Let’s don’t talk about it anymore. I just want to be near you for a few days, until it’s time for me to go.”
“Lise, there’s so much…” She walked up to him and bravely placed two fingers over his lips. He immediately kissed the seal placed over his mouth.
“Hush. No regrets. What time do you want me to come over?”
He kissed her fingers once more, and gently removed her hand. “Seven. And this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. But I can be patient, I’ve waited this long, a little while longer won’t kill me.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I want you to know that even now, thinking about someone hurting you breaks my heart. If I had known you needed me, I would have crawled to you. There is nothing in this world that would have kept me from your side.”
He left her standing there and her heart left with him.
* * * *
Time dragged by. She puttered around the cabin, tried to write and she walked the dog. Why did she accept his invitation? She knew why. She was selfish. Ethan’s brothers would provide a shield between her and Ethan. She would be able to be near him and the brothers would be there to take the pressure off. Discovering he didn’t have a wife had lifted a mountain of weight from her soul. But now it was time to get ready.
The shower in the attractive bathroom was heaven-sent. Annalise ached all over from the tension of being so close to the one she adored, yet having to remain at arm’s length…well…most of the time. The memories of their kisses and caresses were burning in her soul. But she couldn’t let that happen again. And now it was time to remind herself exactly why that had to be. She stood before the vanity mirror, naked. From this vantage point there appeared to be nothing wrong with her. Yet, she knew if she were to open her legs, the web of scars on her inner thighs would be clearly visible. No amount of creams or steroid injections had fazed them to any degree. Two surgeries had lessened the shock value of them somewhat, but the doctors said she would need more surgery. Annalise had struggled with the idea to just let it go, after all no one was going to see them but her. And only one other person ever had—with the exception of the medical staff.
Her foolish marriage had proven catastrophic to put it mildly. After Jeffrey had gotten a good look at his new bride on their wedding night, it had all been over. And the memory of his repulsion was the only incentive she needed to keep a distance between herself and Ethan.
Annalise didn’t see the beauty. She didn’t see the perfect shape of her body or the smoothness of her skin. The tantalizing shape of her own breasts was lost to her. The only thing she saw was the handiwork of the drunk, who, so frustrated at his inability to perform, had raped her viciously with a broken whiskey bottle as his four friends held her immobile. This had been the incident that brought her world to a crashing halt, the one that kept her from returning to Ethan. This was the reason she slept alone.
Oh, everything still worked perfectly well—the reconstruction team had performed a miracle. The doctor joked with her and told her he had created a tighter sheath for her than she possessed originally. She knew the sensations were all still there; her clitoris—amazingly—had been undamaged. Her ability to feel sexual excitement and experience orgasm remained unchanged. She was certain of this, because she touched herself often enough thinking about Ethan when the nights grew long and her bed seemed to double in size.
She fantasized about him. After the rape, her father had supported the physical help she received—the surgeries and the skin grafts. What he had not supported was psychological support. He told her to pull herself up by her bootstraps and be strong. That had been nearly impossible.
Dr. Sanderson, one of her surgeons, had told her to write. Write everything down. Write her fears and frustrations. Write her dismay and disillusionment. Write her fantasies. Ethan had been her fantasy. So from one doctor’s sage advice her career had been born.
She had been able to deal with her mental anguish and keep the memory of her time with Ethan alive. He was the hero in every book she wrote. The main male character always possessed his face and his body. Every erotic word or gesture he had made to her found its way into the pages of her novels. And when she had run out of actual memories of him, she had dreamed up new ones—imagining—weaving scenes of love that filled the pages of her books. Every word she composed was a tribute to the precious hours they had spent together.
Grimly, she bent the knee of one leg and opened her thighs—just enough, so the mirror reflected her greatest shame. The ridges weren’t as prominent or as red as they once were, now they were muted and pink. Still, the place where she had once cherished Ethan—the place where she had proven her desire for him—it was now marred and ugly. Annalise turned from the mirror and stepped into the shower. Tears mingled with the warm water as she let the gentle spray wash away her hopes and dreams.
After showering, she dressed in another cotton sundress, this time a deep purple. She carefully applied her makeup, attempting to eradicate the evidence of her pity party. Checking the clock by her bed, she realized it was still too early to show up at their door.
Waiting for the time of her invitation to arrive, she lay on the bed and relived one of her sweetest remembrances.
* * * *
From the first time she had seen Et
han Stewart she had been totally smitten. Annalise recalled it in those quaint terms, because she had been so innocent and naive. She had come to UT from a small, East Texas, sawmill town—the oldest daughter of a laborer who thought taking his family to church was all the social excitement they needed. When she had come to Austin, she tried hard to fit in. No one was overtly cruel to her, but she had been relegated to her proper place by the more beautiful, more popular, ruling set of social butterflies. Being smart had been her key to fame at the small high school she had come from, but here everybody was smart.
UT had earned the label of being a public, ivy-league school that attracted the cosmopolitan, the self-assured and the physically perfect. It wasn’t the comfortable, homey-type school like its country cousin, Texas A&M. Here, at The University of Texas, you walked next to the brightest and the best the world had to offer.
She had seen Ethan Stewart around campus. He, on the other hand, had not noticed her. Ethan was always in the company of Tri-Delts or Thetas, tall, thin, elegant women who drove small, expensive sports cars and wore designer clothes to class.
When she had applied to be an Orientation Adviser, Annalise had been totally surprised to find Ethan was the senior sponsor. He was kind and supportive of everyone and showed no favoritism. Annalise had worked her heart out for him, never questioning a directive or a request. Several times she had met his eye and it seemed the glances she intercepted were admiring ones. Nothing probably would have materialized had it not been for the incident on the pier when Annalise pushed Ethan to safety after he had nearly been hit in the face by a sharp fishing hook. She had not been so lucky, but the experience of Ethan caring for her as he removed the sharp hooks had been more than worth all of the pain. Never had she dreamed she could feel such intense desire for a man.