“I know. It’s expensive. I’m thinking of sending it all back.”
Jim shook his head and gave her a stern look. “Do you want to break his heart all over again?”
Christy swallowed hard. She knew she’d hurt Kyle, but she’d also been hurt. This last week had been torture to endure without him. “No, I-”
“Look,” Jim began, laying a consoling hand on her shoulder, “Kyle wants you to have this. He’s determined to help you finish your book in any way he can.”
She tilted her head to inquire, “How do you know?”
“We spoke yesterday. He said that under no circumstances did he want the system back. If you don’t agree to keep it, he’s donating it to the school. But Christy, believe me, it would crush him if you did that. He
cares deeply for you.”
“I know. I feel the same for him.”
“And he believes in your work. The man has faith in you.”
“I know that, too.”
“So, are you going to let me set this up for you?”
She shrugged, a sense of resigned acceptance settling in. “I’ve cleared away some space in the guest room. There’s a table in there we can put it on until I can get a computer desk.”
Jim opened the first box, lifting out the computer. “Lead the way. This is going to take some time.”
“Right in here,” she said, showing him the room. “Can I make you something to eat? Want to test out my carrot and dill quiche?”
Jim busied himself with wires and plugs and all things foreign to Christy. “Not right now, but maybe later.”
“Should I put up a sign that reads, Scientist at work and leave you alone?”
“Nah, stay and watch what I’m doing. It can’t hurt to learn how one of these babies goes together.”
Christy sat on a chair to watch Jim, but her heart and her mind were elsewhere. She hadn’t slept much lately, and she’d had trouble with her recipes. Nothing in her life seemed important anymore; nothing much mattered. She never remembered feeling so shattered, so lonely before.
“You know,” Jim said, placing the monitor on the system. “You could send Kyle an email today, when I’m through installing it, to thank him.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Sure, I’ll show you how.”
“No, Jim. That’s not what I mean. I’m not ready for an immediate kind of communication with him right now. It still hurts too much. I’ll send him a note in a few days.”
“Christy, my friend, you’re breaking my heart.”
Minutes ticked by, and Christy lost herself in thought until Jim’s voice startled her. “You know, we’ve never really spoken about this, but there’s something I’ve been meaning to clear up with you.”
“What’s that?”
“Back in high school, that business with Ross Huntley. I guess I was one of the ones who bought his story.”
“Oh?”
“I want to apologize.”
“Don’t feel badly. Ross was a good liar. He’d lied to me since the day I met him.”
“I know that now, but I should have had more faith in you. We were friends. I knew you better than I knew Ross.”
“It’s okay, past history. All is forgiven.” Christy didn’t want to dredge up the past. She had a hard enough time, dealing with the present.
“You know, Kyle had faith in you, even back then.”
“In what way?” It hurt to speak about Kyle, but Jim had something on his mind, and she suspected it had more to do with Kyle than with him.
“He was the only one on the team who didn’t buy into Ross’ story. And it cost him, too.”
Confused, Christy inquired, “What cost him?”
Jim turned his head away from the computer mechanisms to slant her a look. “He got suspended from school, nearly lost his chance at his scholarship.”
“Kyle was suspended. I never knew that!”
“The guys on the team were sworn to secrecy. We told everyone he’d pulled a ligament in the game. He missed nearly a week of school.”
“Kyle was an excellent student. He never borrowed trouble. What did he do to get suspended?”
“God, Christy. After all these years, I’ve never told a soul. But somehow I think knowing this might make a difference.”
“Jim, please. I’m dying to know. Why on earth would Kyle Warren get suspended?”
“For beating up Ross Huntley.”
Christy’s mouth gaped open in disbelief. “Why? Did they have a problem on the team?”
Jim’s laugh was derisive. “Oh, they had a problem, but it had nothing to do with the team. Ross used to boast in the locker room about his…uh, prowess with you. Kyle had warned him half a dozen times to shut his mouth. Then after Ross spread those rumors about you being pregnant, Kyle sort of lost it. He called him out, accused him of lying, and beat the truth out of him. I’d never seen Kyle so riled in my life. It took a bloodied mouth and a broken rib, but Ross finally admitted the truth. The whole thing happened in the locker room. The team kept quiet about it. Most of us felt guilty and ashamed for listening to him in the first place. Everyone liked you, Christy. But Huntley went to the principal. Kyle got suspended. I suppose because he’d been an exemplary student and, let’s face it, we’d just won the state championship, the principal decided to keep the matter hush-hush. Nobody knew but the guys on the team. And we weren’t about to say anything.”
Christy felt a stirring in her heart. Her mind muddled, and all those feelings from long ago came rushing back. Even back then, it seemed she’d misjudged Kyle. “I never knew. He never said a word.”
“I know. He’s like his old man in many ways. Kyle’s not one to boast. He just does what needs doing.”
“He defended me. I used to give him the hardest time. But I guess that he knew me better than I allowed myself to know him. I had this image of him, who and what he was. But I can see now, not too much of what I believed about him was true.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. Kyle had his pick of the girls back then, and he dated quite a few. But somehow with you, I think it would have been different. He had a good deal of respect for you.”
“Yeah,” she said recalling his parting words. They stuck in her gut, like a knife. “But I’d never given him so much as an inch.”
“Well, now’s your chance. Are you going to let geography stand in your way?”
She smiled then, her heart and mind warming to an idea formulating in her head.
*****
Kyle shuffled through the papers on his desk. He picked up a financial report and stared at it. The numbers jumbled together as if they needed decoding. Hell, it had been a long day. Every day had seemed overly long. He’d tried to keep his mind on work, but every few minutes, he’d think of Christy back in her home in Bentley.
Images of the woman he loved making love to him came rushing in. Her little moans of ecstasy, her crying out his name, taunted his days and tormented his nights. He stood abruptly, straightening his desk. “I’m not going to get any more work done tonight.”
He glanced at the clock. It was seven-thirty. His twelve man staff was long gone.
“Time to close up shop,” he said, packing up his briefcase.
His secretary poked her head in the door. “Uh sorry, Kyle, for the interruption, but I wanted to know if there’s anything more you need?”
Surprise registered. He hadn’t meant to keep Joanie here this long. He was sure his mind was going. “No thanks. You should have left hours ago. It’s late. Get on home. Oh, and take the morning off. You’ve put in way too much extra time this week.”
“Thanks, I will,” she said with an unusual grin. “I just wanted to make sure you were heading home soon, boss.”
“I’ll be right behind you. My mind’s not on my work tonight anyway.”
Joanie smiled thoughtfully, as if she was immensely satisfied about something, then she wished him a good evening.
A few minutes later Kyle rode t
he elevator down the ten stories to the basement and got in his car. The drive to his house, on the outskirts of Boston proper, took about twenty minutes. “It’s not really the big city. I live in the suburbs,” he commented as he closed in on his own residential neighborhood. The streets were lined with beautiful American elm trees, and his house at the far end of the street had a yard bigger than Pop’s back home.
If only Christy would have come, just to see. But she hadn’t given them a chance. “Get over it, Warren,” he said to himself. But it wasn’t easy. Each night, he’d sit by the phone reading in the quiet calm of his house, hoping her call would blast him out of the silence.
And how many times during these last few days had he reached for the phone, recalling Christy’s phone number only to set the receiver down. He’d made every concession he possibly could for her. The ball was in her court, he mused, thinking that Christy Evans was about the most stubborn, contrary, beautiful woman he’d ever met.
Damn her. He still loved her. He doubted he’d ever be able to forget her. But he had to try. Self-torture was not Kyle’s style.
He parked his car in the garage and proceeded up the steps that led through a service porch to his kitchen.
For a moment, he thought he’d entered the wrong house. He tossed his briefcase on the kitchen chair, taking in the pungent aroma wafting about the room. Dim lights beckoned him toward another part of the house. Slowly, Kyle walked through the rooms with caution, wariness. His heart raced, not knowing if from dread or thrill.
Obviously, someone had been here. They might possibly still be here. But the house didn’t appear ominous. It appeared homey and inviting. Fluttering lights dancing across the hallway called to him. He followed them.
They led to his bedroom.
With careful intent, Kyle peered inside his room. There in the center of his king-sized bed was a huge platter of food, the likes of such a gourmet meal, Kyle had never before seen. Candlelight glittered from the nightstands on either side of the bed.
“Christy?” he called, optimistically. “I hope you’re the one invading my house.”
Silence.
Kyle stepped further into the room. He gazed at the food; lobster, shrimp scampi, tiny potatoes, curried rice, asparagus tips and chocolate tortes all glimmered back at him. And there in the middle of this fabulous meal, was a note.
Kyle’s heart spiraled downward. Christy hadn’t come. She’d most likely had this meal sent over from the local caterer, as a thank you for the computer he had given her.
He lifted the note and read aloud. “I think I’ve finally learned the true way to a man’s heart.”
“Hello, Kyle.”
Kyle swiveled his head. Then he turned the rest of his body to view his fantasy come true, standing in his bedroom doorway.
Christy stood there, wearing her tiny white lace apron. And not much else. The apron barely covered her lovely female anatomy, leaving scant underwear to do the rest.
She cast him a nervous smile.
He raked an appreciative eye over her luscious body. “Hi,” he managed after swallowing the lump in his throat. He’d never seen anything more beautiful or felt any stronger emotion than he felt now.
“I’m, uh, I’m thinking of changing the name of my business from Evans’ Edible Delights to something more sophisticated, more eastern. How do like, Warren’s Wonderful Wares?”
Kyle shot her a big smile, and his heart did a little flip. “I think I’d have to taste test those wonderful wares first, honey. Come here.” He opened his arms and approached her. She came to him, closing the rest of the distance, meeting him halfway.
As it should be.
He enfolded her into his embrace.
“I love you, Kyle. And I want to be your wife. I want to live here with you and cook and write my books. I want to spend my time loving you to distraction.”
“I do,” he said, kissing the sweetness of her lips, happier than he thought possible, “to all of the above. And I can’t wait to make it all happen-especially the last part. But we’ll get to that a little later. First tell me, how did you manage all this?”
“I went to your office today and pleaded with your secretary to give me your house key. Jim mentioned she was taking care of your house while you were gone. It was a long shot, and I think she thought I was a lunatic or something, but I finally convinced her. She seemed to know a little something about me.”
“Joanie can read me like a book. I had to tell her why I’d been away so long, why I’d been barking orders to everyone when I came back grouchy and miserable.”
“You were grouchy?”
“Horrible. I’m glad I told her about you. I owe her my thanks.” He hugged her tight.
“Oh and, Kyle, you owe Joanie something more.”
“What’s that honey?”
“A big bonus,” she said coyly.
He threw his head back, chuckling and thrilled to have Christy back in his arms once again. “God, I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. I felt half-alive without you. I realized that home is any city as long as we’re together. And this is really a very nice house.”
“Do you like it? Did you see the kitchen? We can remodel. We can make it your dream kitchen. I want you to have everything you need to continue your work.”
“Kyle,” she said, gently gliding her hand down his cheek, those gorgeous blue eyes warm and inviting. “The house is just perfect. The kitchen is twice the size I’m used to working in.” She smiled. “You have such faith in me. I only just learned that you always have. And I’ve been really hard on you. I’m sorry. I plan on spending a good deal of time making it up to you.”
“That sounds promising,” he said, kissing her again. His hands found her bottom, and her soft smooth skin made him ache painfully. “How about we try a little Edible Delights?” He glanced at the bed and wiggled his brows.
“Are you hungry?” she asked in a sexy little voice.
“Yes.” He led her toward the bed. “I’m famished. Serve me.”
Christy removed her apron, and Kyle’s mouth watered.
“But, sweetheart,” she said in a whisper, “I’m off duty right now. Serve yourself.”
Kyle tugged her onto the bed amid her seductive giggles. The platter of food nearly crashed onto the floor, but he paid it little mind. Instead, he helped himself to Christy’s delights, serving himself as she had offered, savoring the feel of her body. “Are you always going to be this difficult?”
She flung her arms around his neck and teased his lips with her tongue. “Always.”
“Good,” he said with a grin. “I wouldn’t know you any other way.”
She cast him a slow secretive smile. “But you can give me a hard time back, starting right now.”
“Oh, honey, I plan to.”
Kyle knew then Christy had been right about one fundamental thing. She truly did know the way to a man’s heart-his heart.
Kyle glanced heavenward for a moment, certain his father was smiling down on both of them.
The End
Author Bio
Charlene Sands is a multi-published author of 18 books, writing both short contemporary for Silhouette Desire and western historical novels for Harlequin. Her Silhouette Desire, Like Lightning, is a 2006 National Reader’s Choice nominee and her June Desire, Heiress Beware, was #2 on the Border’s List for series romance two weeks running. She is an active member of the Orange County Chapter of RWA where she heads up the Ask an Author Program. She loves grand adventures that sweep you away as well as fun and sassy everyday life stories. Her passion for writing comes from her beloved father, Charles, and she attributes the main source of inspiration to her husband, Don.
Visit www.charlenesands.com for contests, blogs, and chats!
Also Available from Cobblestone Press, LLC
Along the Hibiscus Path by Jennah Sharpe © 2006
Chapter One
Sera Summers curled up, tired and barefoot, on the sofa with
her daily horoscope from the community paper. Your true love is not where you think you will find him. She crumpled the paper up and threw, aiming for the woodbin by the woodstove. She missed. Why can’t I stop reading these?
Boxes crowded the floor of her small cottage home. Absently rolling the beads of her pearl anklet between her fingers, she scanned the open cupboards and shelves for a stray ornament or magazine that she might have missed when packing.
It was finally finished. Her belongings were going into Fiona’s basement. The cottage would be rented for three months by a family of skiers who planned to use it only on weekends as a base for skiing at the local alpine hill among other recreational pursuits.
Her tortoise-shell cat, Molly, would continue to inhabit her corner of the sofa. The renting family had agreed to care for her on weekends, and Fiona would check on her during the week. The rent money would cover the mortgage and utilities for the three-month period Sera intended to be away. Everything had worked out perfectly.
The last textbook Sera had written had been picked up by a small government-funded publishing house, and was to be used as a teaching tool by the local school board. The funds she’d earned from the book afforded her the time and the means to finally work with a people who were completely unfamiliar, and to possibly produce something of interest to the university. Tenure, she hoped, would not be far behind.
Sera was eager to leave, but the details seemed endless. It had been no small feat to rent the cottage for three months, and then she’d had to make arrangements for the cat, storage for her things, plane tickets, visa and a sabbatical from work. She had taken the next year off to plan, sort, visit and write. If all worked out in the three months she was away, she would go back and continue her study of other cultures in the same area. But she was giving herself three months as a start.
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