by LAURA GALE
“It has just always felt good to me. Always.” The late-afternoon breeze lifted her hair, the sun creating mahogany highlights. She closed her eyes against the presunset intensity of the light. “Michaela would love this.”
Lucas glanced at her sharply, looking for…something. But she just looked beautiful and dreamy and completely oblivious to how Lucas felt about that. He cleared his throat. “I like it here, too.” He stepped up behind her, encircling her waist with his arms, pulling her to him. Just breathing her scent. Vanilla, spice and Rachel. He would never get enough of it.
Rachel didn’t fight the caresses, the light touch. She could feel the telltale rigidness pressing into her back. She turned to face him, her mouth eagerly seeking his, clinging to his. Her lips parted at the touch of his tongue, inviting more. He gave it. The kiss deepened. And went on and on. Dreamily. Sensuously. Sparkling in the sunlight that was slipping toward sunset.
Eventually Lucas broke off the kiss. He didn’t let her go, though. “I didn’t actually bring you here for this. Not that I’m complaining.” He smiled, his eyes clear and dark, sharing with her their private joke over his favored expression. One he hadn’t used in a long time.
“Neither am I.” Rachel’s voice was hushed. “I think it’s this place. There’s magic here.”
“Mmm. Could be.” Lucas stepped back, dropping his arm, reaching to hold her hand. “Come sit with me, Rachel. We need to talk.”
Rachel’s heart lurched, but she knew he was right. The time had come.
They headed toward a bench that was situated near the water’s edge. While Rachel sat on the bench, Lucas sat on the ground in front of it, his knees drawn up, his elbows resting on his knees. He seemed withdrawn suddenly, his gaze locked on some distant spot—maybe on the other side of the lake. It was a few more minutes before Lucas broke the silence.
“You know, Rachel, I quit smoking the day you came to my office.”
She glanced at him, her eyebrows puckered into a frown.
He laughed, understanding that he’d offered a bizarre conversation starter. “Sorry,” he said, “that probably seemed like a really random comment. You’d have to know that I started smoking because, well, Dad has always smoked cigars. They were always available at our meetings, our conferences, around the office. So finally one day I tried it. I wasn’t particularly impressed, but Alana was. She told me it made me look successful. You can’t imagine how badly I needed to hear that. Or how shallow my view of success had become, if I thought a cigar would prove it. They became a habit quickly, though.”
He shrugged. “I remembered you saying that you thought cigars were nothing but pacifiers for adults. But I would have defended smoking, especially against your opinion. Like everything else in my life, even though the attraction had begun to fade, it was easier to continue as I was than to change anything. Then you walked into my office, and I saw your face when you saw me with a cigar. I knew you saw a pacifier, even if I thought I saw a successful executive. I lost my taste for it that day.”
He smiled wistfully, his eyes trained on the pedal boat that was making its way across the lake, its occupants’ laughter clear over the water, as they stomped on the foot pedals that operated the little craft.
“I’ve been thinking lately, Rachel.” He began clearly yet thoughtfully. “You need to know.”
Rachel shifted on the bench, automatically bringing her legs up, curling them beneath her. She was ready to listen. She just wasn’t sure what she’d be hearing. She couldn’t see Lucas’s face. Or his eyes.
“When you left, Rachel, I was stunned. I knew that things—” The words came haltingly. He’d been rehearsing, though. He took a deep breath, began again. “I knew that things weren’t right between us. Of course, I didn’t examine that too deeply, but I knew. I told you before. That’s why I asked you to come to Las Vegas.” He glanced over his shoulder, waiting for her nod of confirmation.
“Yes, well,” he continued, “even though I knew it was bad, I didn’t see that night as…well, the way you did. As a point of no return. I guess I really believed we’d just go on like we had, with you angry about it—or at least not happy about it—but living with it. I didn’t see how serious I’d made it. That I’d crossed a line.” He shook his head, remembering. “Yet, when I looked at Alana that night and realized what I was doing—” he shook his head again “—something in me made me stop. Still, that was the only action I took to change things. Beyond that, it never occurred to me that you’d do something about it. That’s me, though. It was easier to just let things go and see where we ended up. Until you walked in my office that day, carrying legal documents for me to sign. Until then I didn’t understand it was the end.”
He stopped to comb his fingers through his hair, his hands coming to rest on his head.
Rachel held her breath, only releasing it when he continued.
“I’m not even sure how Alana ended up living in the condo, Rachel. You left, she descended on the place, I escaped. I went numb. Just totally numb once you left. Shock, I guess. Anyway, Alana was there, saying whatever I needed to hear. That’s more or less how she operates.”
He reached out to break off a blade of grass, needing something in his hands, something to fidget with. “Alana kept me very busy. In the public eye. Mostly it was just the same social appearances thing it had been for years. The key for her was how it looked. And we looked like a successful executive couple.” He heard Rachel’s sharply indrawn breath, but continued. “And eventually I started noticing that something was missing from my life. I wasn’t quite sure what, but I did notice that no matter how surrounded by people I was, or how Alana was constantly with me, I was alone. Really, truly, completely alone. I was on autopilot. But I kept busy, as if that would take my mind off the sad state of my life. I guess it worked to some extent. Alana claimed the town house. I’d moved out as soon as I noticed she had actually moved in, and it was easier to just let it go than—” He bit off his words.
“Easier than telling her to leave,” Rachel supplied for him.
“Yes. Exactly.” He rested his elbows on his knees again, dropping the mangled blade of grass, linking his fingers together church-steeple fashion. “But I didn’t want to live in that town house, anyway. And I only snapped out of it to a certain extent. I didn’t realize until very recently why my life felt empty. And—” he smiled wistfully “—I have finally realized, Rachel, that the easiest way isn’t necessarily the right way. I finally understand what that means.”
He glanced back at her, noting she looked a little pale, but that she was listening. “Which is why we’re having this conversation. It isn’t easy. It’s damn hard. But you deserve to know what I’ve been doing, what I’ve been thinking. To hear it from me and not someone else. Maybe I’ve finally grown up enough to see it and to talk about it.” He shrugged.
“Maybe I’ve finally grown up, too, Lucas. I couldn’t ever say things right before, either.”
“Or maybe I’ve learned to listen.”
She inclined her head. “And I’m listening to you this time.” She laughed lightly.
He smiled, too. Then he returned to what he was needing to say.
“After Alana, well, I was still hoping to meet someone who made me feel less alone. And I dated a lot. But there was nothing there. Just nothing. Even though they were inevitably glamorous, beautiful women who were accustomed to a man’s attention and seemed to enjoy what I offered.”
Rachel caught a sob in her throat. “Lucas, maybe I don’t need to hear all this.”
“You need to hear it, Rachel. I need to say it.”
After several long minutes Rachel responded. “Then just…don’t look at me. Let me just hear you.”
“Okay.” He turned and sat down on the ground again, not quite touching her. “So, these women seemed content with what I was offering, which wasn’t very much. As soon as they realized that all I expected from them was a public companion who would smile at the cameras, the dating
ended. They would decline my invitations or I would move on.”
He paused, wanting to say this exactly right, or at least as best he could. “I’ve thought a lot about trust lately, Rachel. And about appearances. That it is important, what people see you doing. That includes the good as well as the bad. Rachel, I need you to understand. I’ve made many mistakes. Many mistakes when I was married to you, many mistakes since then.”
Tears trickled down Rachel’s face, Lucas knew it without looking. He could hear her sniffles and the shuddering breaths she was trying to conceal. Still, she had asked him not to look at her, and he would honor her request.
“Listen to me very carefully. Please.” He stopped, emphasizing what he had to say with silence. “Rachel, whatever else I’ve done wrong, Alana was my only mistake. Do you understand me, Rachel? She was a major mistake, but she was the only mistake. I didn’t know, consciously, why I never went to bed with anyone else. I just knew I didn’t want to. Alana—” he licked his dry lips, hoped his words were registering “—was a mistake. But I never made that mistake again. I swear.”
Rachel took a noisy, gulping breath. A sob.
Lucas got to his knees then, in front of Rachel, taking her face in his hands. “I love you, Rachel. And I’m so sorry.”
Nodding, crying, Rachel entered Lucas’s embrace, pulling him to her. He sat beside her, held her, stroking her face, breathing in the scent he needed. Loving her.
Eventually Rachel took another noisy deep breath, signaling the end of her bout with tears. “You were with many beautiful women, Lucas.”
“But I was with them in public only, Rachel. There was nothing else with any of them. Nothing. I couldn’t feel anything for any of them. I was dead inside. Nothing seemed to touch me. I just couldn’t feel…anything…do you understand what I mean?”
“Lucas, that’s how I’ve lived the last five years. Nobody could understand it better than me. Maybe the difference is that I knew it all this time. You’ve only just discovered it.”
“I didn’t realize what you would be thinking about my lifestyle, about these women,” he admitted shamefacedly. “It was so obvious to me what those encounters were like. But until Rick and Diego pointed it out to me—beat me over the head with the news—I’d never realized how my life was interpreted by other people. Then my dad confirmed it. I’m sorry for that, Rachel. I don’t know how you could even think of taking me back, believing that I’d slept with every social butterfly in the state.”
“Let me go on record—” Rachel met his tentative smile with one of her own “—as saying that I have had issues with that very matter.”
“Yes,” he said, inclining his head. “And now that I understand what you were thinking, I don’t blame you. Like I said, I got to thinking about trust. And, well, I know it requires trust to believe me now. But realizing what you’d thought I was doing, I see why things didn’t fall into place for you the way they did for me. I gave you a pretty big obstacle to get over.”
He turned toward her then. “Rachel, I’ve never told another woman I loved her. Only you.”
Somehow Rachel met his clear, dark eyes. She saw the truth there, knew that he meant every word. She knew it would take some time before she could think dispassionately about their painful past. But she believed him. He’d learned the hard way, too.
Lucas understood her, as well. The topaz glow in her eyes said it all. Gently he cupped her face in his hands, leaned forward until his lips touched hers. “Only you, Rachel.”
Slowly he let his hands drop. He sat back in the seat. “There’s more.”
Rachel steeled herself, wondering, yet afraid to wonder, what else he wanted to add.
“My parents have become…interesting. They will never hurt you again, Rachel. I know how it was for you—I realize it, finally—and I’ll always have to live with knowing I allowed that. But my father is completely out of the picture now, and my mother is…different. Mother really wants to get to know Michaela. In a genuine way, Rachel. She is so thrilled about being a grandmother—I’ve never seen her so happy about anything before. And she wants nothing to do with my father. She’s…well, she’s just different.”
Rachel said nothing, just nodded her head, digesting this news slowly. She, too, had seen something different about Sophie at the hospital that day. She’d responded to it, whatever it was, when she’d taken Sophie to see Michaela.
“My father, on the other hand—” Lucas cringed “—he’s worse than you know.” He proceeded to explain what he had learned about his father, what he had seen, why his mother had thrown him out. “Rachel, it hit me, you know? I was in training to become just like him. How close was I, Rachel?”
She held him to her then, stroking his hair. She’d heard the despair in his voice. “Not close at all, Lucas. You’ve always been a good man, deep inside. He has never been. You’ve been learning to be yourself all this time, Lucas. And you’re doing a fine job.”
Taking a shuddering breath, Lucas marveled at how good it felt to talk to Rachel. He’d always been able to talk to her in ways he wouldn’t have attempted with anyone else. So much had been bottled up for so long, he wondered how long it would take to really catch up. The release was exhilarating.
“It’s funny, you know. The way you described society women, with emphasis on their absence of personality or ability to speak for themselves. That’s exactly how I see them. I told my mother I saw her that way, and it was apparently a turning point for her.”
He blew out a long breath, so happy to have Rachel in his life like this. “You know I’ve been on leave from Neuman Industries?” At her nod he continued. “I’ve officially resigned. I’m free now. I hadn’t realized just how much my spirit was dying there. My dreams will have a chance to be reborn.” He smiled.
Rachel smiled back but didn’t comment. She sensed there was more.
“Yes, my dreams will have their chance now because I’ve been accepted at Fuentes de la Juventud.”
“Diego’s Fuentes de la Juventud?” Rachel asked, as if there were several companies by that name.
“Yes.” Lucas smiled. “In fact, that’s why I’m looking at Encanto Park. The company is restoring a lot of the buildings in the area.”
“Well, at least that explains why Diego seems to like you again.”
“Yeah, I think we’ve worked out a few things. Hell, I know we have or he’d have never brought me into the company.” He tipped her head toward him. “I have to prove myself. But he’s willing to give me a second chance. He believes in me, Rachel.” He kissed her then, gently.
He stood up abruptly. “Come with me a minute. I have something to show you.”
Rachel felt unease clench in her stomach, but she followed him across the street and down the way a bit. Lucas stopped in front of one particular house—an old one, clearly one of the older homes of Encanto Park. Yet, it was special. It had character.
“I know it’s a fixer-upper—” Lucas sounded nervous “—but actually that’s what I’m doing. I’d like you to just, you know, look through the place. And give me your ideas.”
So Rachel began to roam through the grand old home. It wasn’t huge, but it was big enough. Like so many of the early homes in Encanto Park, it was on one level, with evidence of Mexican architecture throughout. Arched doorways, arched window frames. Beautiful wood flooring that needed serious polishing to bring back its glory. Spanish tile in the kitchen and dining area. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a huge kitchen that badly needed renovation. In fact, everything in it needed fixing up. Just as Lucas had said.
“Well,” Rachel finally said, “it has a lot of potential, Lucas. I mean, the windows are great, they give it a wonderful open feeling. It’s got a great backyard. Wonderful trees. It does need work, cleaning up, fixing up. But it’s nice.”
She wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say. Many people would consider it too old, no doubt, but Rachel didn’t see it that way. She’d never believed brand-new meant better. Instea
d, in this house she saw a home that just needed someone to take care of it, to love it, before it easily looked the part.
“I want to buy it, Rachel. It’s one I’ve been assigned to refurbish, redecorate. But I want to buy it. I want to raise a family here, Rachel.”
Rachel didn’t meet his eyes, but she knew what he was saying.
“I’d like you to live here, too, Rachel. But even if you don’t want to—or can’t—I wanted your ideas about the place that I would offer Michaela, whether you thought it seemed like the right kind of home for—” he faltered momentarily “—for us.”
Rachel’s throat tightened. Yes, she had understood what he was saying. Not only the part about wanting her to live here with him, but also that he wouldn’t buy something without her input this time.
“I think it’s wonderful, Lucas. And I’m sure you’ll be able to create here. Get your spirit healthy.” She smiled.
“Yes,” he whispered. She had heard exactly what he was saying. “I won’t make the same mistakes again, Rachel. Please believe me.” He smiled.
She smiled back.
“Come outside, Rachel.”
She did.
“Sit down.” He was already sitting on an old porch swing, one that looked in need of repair. “I’ve checked it out already. It’s solid.”
She sat.
“Rachel.” He blew out a long breath, running his hand through his hair—actions that reflected inner turmoil. “Damn, I don’t know where to start this time.”
“Just jump right in, Lucas. I’ll try to catch on and follow.”
“Talking about feelings is new to me, Rachel. I don’t even think about them very well, to say nothing of talking about them.”
“I know. But I really like it so far.” She grinned, feeling almost shy.
“Me, too.” He grinned back at her. Another long breath. “I’ve been trying not to pressure you, Rachel. I wanted you to have the space, the time, you needed to decide things. At first I think I was convinced that since I was ready for things to work out—well, that they just would. I finally caught on that it wouldn’t be that easy. I wanted us to really be friends again, not just lovers—not that I’m complaining.”