by Starla Kaye
“My life is a mess. I’m a mess,” she admitted, blinking back tears. She really hated constantly being on the verge of crying. It was all Sam’s fault.
Jonathan scooted closer and settled an arm around her shoulders. She moved easily into his comforting embrace. “You know I never meant to hurt you, don’t you? I just… we just…”
She gave him a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry for verbally going at you the other day. I’m really okay with what happened, with the divorce. And with you having a new relationship.” She smiled again. “You’re a good man, just not the man for me.”
She felt the tension leave his body. She glanced toward the front of the church where the wedding party was listening to directions from the minister. Sam looked in her direction, and then he frowned before turning abruptly away. The same aching disappointment she’d felt ever since he’d told her he was leaving tomorrow filled her.
“I don’t think there is a right man for me. In fact, I’m going to stop working as a romance therapist.” This was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but a good one, she decided. “I’m going to start working with women who’ve come out of bad relationships.”
She looked up at Jonathan, who was studying her in concern. “I’m becoming something of an expert in bad relationships.”
“Because of me?” He nodded toward the front, his gaze locked on Sam. “Because of that cowboy?”
She shrugged, but she didn’t want to continue with this topic of conversation. She didn’t want to talk about Sam, because she’d break down into a sobbing mess for sure if she did. “What are you doing here? At this rehearsal?” she asked to change the subject.
Now he smiled, his green eyes dancing with pride. “The groom’s best man is my best man.”
All she could do was gape in shock. She supposed seeing in real life the person—the man—who’d come between her and Jonathan should upset her, but it didn’t. It was just a surprise. Seeing his pleasure made her feel strangely happy. “I’ve talked with him. I think I even danced, maybe flirted, with him my first night here. At the mai tai party. I got pretty wasted.”
Jonathan chuckled and reached over to gently touch the side of her face. “That’s what I heard. I also heard the cowboy carried you off like some kind of romantic hero. Wish I’d seen that.”
Suddenly she couldn’t be there in the church any longer. She couldn’t be this close to the “romantic hero” who now wanted nothing to do with her. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to… got to go. Somewhere.”
When she shot to her feet, he did as well. “It’s not you. I’m actually glad to see you again. I’m happy for you.” She gave him a quick kiss for old time’s sake and then raced out of the church.
* * *
Somewhere around dawn Valentine shoved to her feet from where she’d been sitting on the sand next to the beach wall for hours. The constant rolling and crashing waves had somehow soothed her raw feelings. Time had gotten away from her. At least her headache was gone, but she was so tired. She’d rehashed the partnership, her brief affair with Sam, and her idea about the bed-and-breakfast business. She’d gone over every tiny detail of it all so many times that she was tired all the way down to her soul.
She climbed slowly up the concrete stairway to the dew-covered grassy grounds of the large hotel two resorts down from the Papakea. As she started wearily walking toward her condo’s building, Shelby came flying frantically at her.
“Where have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you!” Shelby’s arms swept around her and hugged her desperately. “I was so worried. You went running out of the church, and then just disappeared.”
Valentine struggled for breath. “Too hard. You’re squeezing me too hard.”
When Shelby immediately let go and eased back, Valentine noted a half dozen of the wedding party hurrying in their direction. They all looked exhausted. She felt awful, responsible, even if they really needn’t have worried about her. “I’m sorry to have ruined your night. I never thought anyone would even notice me leaving.”
Jonathan and his “best man” got to her before the rest of the group, a group from which Sam was conspicuously absent. “You took ten years off my life, sugar. Don’t ever scare me like that again.” He swept her into a brief hug.
As he stepped back, she noticed his black eye. “What happened to you?” She gently reached out to touch the bruised area, a sinking feeling threading through her.
“That cowboy is what happened,” he snorted, although he didn’t appear all that mad.
Shelby interrupted by explaining in disgust, “When Sam discovered you’d left the church, he went straight to poor Jonathan. He was certain Jonathan had said something to upset you. Sam started rambling about Jonathan stalking you, about you not wanting him anywhere near you. And then Wham! Sam—my idiot brother—knocked Jonathan flat on his back.”
Valentine couldn’t do anything but stare in shock between Shelby and Jonathan. Sam had attacked Jonathan? Was he nuts? And then she remembered the things she’d said in anger about her ex the other day. After that she remembered how Sam had turned on her today. How he’d not said one word to her their entire drive back from that ranch.
She sizzled. “Your brother has no right, none at all, butting into my life. In any manner.” She winced as she looked again at Jonathan’s damaged face and her voice turned quivery, “I’m sorry. So sorry about this.” And then she did just what she’d prayed she wouldn’t do: she burst into miserable sobs.
Both Jonathan and his friend surrounded her, smothering her with their efforts at comforting. So tired she could barely function, she allowed them to lead her to her condo. They wanted to stay and let her talk things out, but she refused their offer. She just wanted to collapse on her bed and cry herself to sleep. After that she’d face the wedding later today and all of the people who’d searched for her instead of getting the much needed rest before this big day.
She didn’t know if she wanted to see Sam later or not. Or if he’d even want to see her, even if he’d attacked poor Jonathan supposedly on her behalf. Whatever. He would be leaving today and she’d never seen him again. Never feel the warmth of his big body moving over hers, in hers. Never look into those warm brown eyes again.
Jerking off her clothes, she dove naked on top of the bed. The coolness of the quilt felt good. It also felt incredibly sensual, which immediately made her think of Sam. Darn him! Why couldn’t she get him out of her mind? He didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. That much was made clear by the fact his sister had been desperately looking for her, but Sam had been nestled in his bed.
Sobs overtook her. Fine. She’d cry this all out, and then she’d start looking at bed-and-breakfasts here on Maui tomorrow.
Chapter Six
There were times when Sam was glad he had finely tuned hearing. Other times when he hated it. Around an hour ago he’d heard his sister’s voice from around the corner of the condo building closest to the beach and hesitated. She’d been talking to Valentine. And the man he’d punched earlier in the evening—something he definitely was not proud of—had been talking as well. They’d been so relieved to find her. None of them were as relieved as him. He’d nearly gone crazy with worry about her taking off like that. He’d personally called cab companies to see if someone had given her a ride back to the resort. He’d walked the area around the church after learning she hadn’t gotten a cab ride. Boots were not made for walking, and he had blisters now as proof of that fact. Finally he’d driven back here and walked all over the resort grounds, as had a half dozen of the family members, including his distressed sister.
Yet he’d not joined the small group of people who had been looking everywhere at the time they’d run into her. Guess they’d looked everywhere except the beach. He’d frozen instead of revealing himself as he heard her angry comment. Your brother has no right butting into my life. Her statement had been laced with such pain. He’d known he was responsible for it.
Standing barefoot on his
balcony now, he thought about the sun he’d watched slowly rise over the rooftops of the buildings to the east. He’d seen a lot of sunrises over the years, but never taken the time to actually study them, to enjoy them. This one had been pretty darn spectacular. He’d remember it. Because he’d remember this day for a long, long time. The day when he realized he’d finally fallen in love, and when he realized he’d broken his sweet lady’s heart.
He rubbed at his chest. Hell if his heart didn’t feel like it was breaking.
The room phone rang, jarring him enough that he nearly tripped over the patio chair when he turned around. He wasn’t all that sure he wanted to find out who was calling. Either it was Shelby, calling to rag on him again for being a first class idiot. Or it was Jake, calling with some ranch problem he needed to make a decision about. At the moment he was sick to death of the damn ranch.
The phone rang another couple of times and he decided to answer it, worried the ringing might wake Valentine up next door. He’d peeked out his bedroom window to watch Jonathan and his friend all but carrying her up the stairs to her condo. She’d looked beyond miserable, dead tired, and on the verge of tears. God help him, he would recall how she’d looked—because of him, he was sure—until the day he died. She needed whatever rest she was getting now, and he hoped she’d fallen asleep.
He stubbed his toe on one of the barstools as he snagged the phone. “Hello,” he ground out, not wanting to encourage the caller toward starting up a conversation.
“A wounded bear would sound better than you,” Jake stated, clearly not impressed with his tone of voice. “I figured by now all that wedding stuff would be wearing you down.”
He took a second to rein in his irritation. “If I ever get married, I’ll be eloping.”
“Whoa. Marriage? You? I’ve never heard you even joke about the subject. What’s up, buddy?”
Jake was right. Sam took the whole matter of marriage very seriously and he’d always been dead determined about steering clear of it. He’d felt burdened with more than enough commitments his entire life. At least so he’d thought. Now, as his sister was really and truly easing away from his care and protection to another man, he understood she’d never been a burden. She’d been a special gift he’d been entrusted with for a while. He was going to miss her. And he knew, although he’d fought the idea at first, Dale would make her a good husband.
He swiped his hand down his beard-roughened face. His eyes burned from lack of sleep. His relationship with Valentine was killing him. Okay, the relationship he’d had.
“Shelby will be okay. It just took me a while to accept this whole business of her not needing me anymore. Of her getting married and moving far away.”
“The little chick grew up. Time for her to make her own nest,” Jake teased, and then sobered again. “I talked to her the other day. She said you’ve been running around the island with that therapist woman she and Dale went to. She’s crazy fond of the lady.”
Sam’s heart wrenched at the mention of Valentine. His sister wasn’t the only one “crazy fond” of Dr. Hart. Actually he was much more than “fond” of her. And he knew he was “crazy” because they’d only just met. It was like that whole love at first sight thing he’d always scoffed at people about. Damn if it hadn’t happened to him. He’d had growing feelings for her ever since she’d launched herself into his arms the first night at the party.
“Shelby also told me you’ve been arguing with this lady. About the ranch. About her and Dale.” He blew out a breath of frustration. “You can be a damn stubborn man sometimes, Sam Thompson. Things don’t always have to go one certain way, you know. You gotta learn that whole thinking outside the box thing people talk about.”
“What the hell are you trying to say?” He wasn’t in the mood for skirting around a subject.
“I’m saying I understand your feelings about keeping the Thompson Ranch in the family. I respect history like that. But I also understand Shelby’s need to make a life of her own. With Dale. There in Maui.”
He rubbed his tired eyes, wanting to end this conversation on a matter he was too tired to hassle with right now. “I spent most of yesterday wrangling with this situation. A day where the ranch and my feelings about it have managed to ruin what might have been the best thing in my life.” Because of his inability to let go of the damn ranch, he’d lost Valentine.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I’ve got a compromise proposal for you. Something I’m pretty sure you can live with.”
He started to interrupt, and then just gave in to listening to Jake.
“Let me buy Shelby out. I’m pretty sure she’d go for the idea. You and I can be partners in the ranch,” Jake continued. “I don’t care about changing the name. I don’t want to mess up the family history. I just want to take over full management. And you can go back to vet school.”
It felt like a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He sunk onto a barstool. His mind started going in all directions, possibilities he’d believed gone forever now dancing before him again. Yet, even as good as he felt about the ranch problem, depression still had hold of him.
“If that doesn’t appeal to you, I’m sure we can come up with another idea,” Jake prodded.
“No! I’m all for it. You’re a lifesaver, pal.” He decided to trust in his oldest and closest friend. “It’s just that I’ve been such an idiot. I said things… I didn’t listen… I—”
Jake chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the Sam I know if you didn’t say something pigheaded stupid every now and then. Or if you didn’t listen to something you didn’t want to hear.”
Although his situation was still bleak, his mood lightened. Jake always did that for him. “Valentine’s pretty damn pissed with me.”
“Ahhhh, so you’ve finally gone and done it. Let a woman get past your defenses and really latch onto you. Dr. Hart’s won your heart!” Jake laughed. “I’ll be using that line for a while, maybe for the next thirty or forty years. If you find a way to swallow your enormous pride and make things right again.”
“Pretty big if, buddy. Guess I’ll have to try, though. Because I can’t see enjoying these new facets of my life without her by my side.”
He stood, needing to go clean up, needing to do some serious thinking. Needing to do some serious praying that he could start winning his lady love back.
* * *
Valentine had just finished all but drowning in the shower when someone knocked on her door. Then she heard Jonathan through the open bathroom door as he called out loudly, “Valentine? I need to talk to you.”
She quickly toweled off a bit and then wrapped another towel around her. It didn’t bother her that he’d see her with almost nothing on; they’d been married. Yet she didn’t feel up to talking to anyone right now. The shower had helped her regain some sanity, but she still hadn’t had more than a couple of hours sleep since coming back here at dawn.
Opening the door she found a solemn, take-her-breath-away, Sam Thompson standing there ready to shove a boot in the doorway. Jonathan gave her a wave and walked away; saying over his shoulder, “Talk to him.”
She absolutely did not want to talk to Sam. She wanted to yank him inside her bedroom, rip off his clothes, and have her way with him. She also wanted to seek counseling for these insane thoughts. But she stepped back and silently motioned him by her.
He didn’t even hesitate. He walked straight into her kitchen and started rummaging around in the drawers. She followed him, stunned and puzzled. “What do you think you’re doing?” she questioned warily, still wondering why she didn’t order him to leave.
When he found what he’d been looking for, he faced her, holding up a sturdy-looking wooden spoon. “I’m about to do something that you’re not going to like very much.” He snagged her arm and pulled her out into the living/dining room and stopped next to the round glass table. “Bend over, hands flat on the table.”
“But the towel…” she protested, starin
g at the spoon. He planned to use that on her? Spank her with it? Run! But her heart wouldn’t let her move.
In a quick movement, he took care of the towel problem and jerked it away, leaving her to stand there naked before him. His pupils immediately dilated and he sucked in a breath. The action pulled the western cut blue chambray shirt tight across his chest. In spite of what he was about to do to her, she had to admire his fine physique. Really fine. She wanted to touch it. Have him go skin-to-skin with her, but that wasn’t going to happen.
His bodily reactions didn’t deter him from his plan. In typical stubborn Sam form, he repeated his directions, expecting obedience. “Bend over. Hands on the table. Bottom out.”
Heart hammering in her chest, she did as he said. Nobody she’d ever known in her life would believe she submitted to these occasional spankings. She was a strong, independent, professional woman. She was also, evidently, a woman who would allow this kind of treatment from a man she respected and cared for. Sure, she was plenty put out with him about what had happened yesterday. And she was still confused about taking a real chance on getting involved with another man. But no matter how much he annoyed her sometimes or how confused she felt, she still struggled against completely giving up on him.
Hands on the cold glass table, she glanced back at him, not wanting to stand here all day waiting for this to happen. Okay, it would be all right with her if it didn’t happen at all. He might be staring at her in obvious lust, but she could also see the grim determination etched on his face.
She decided to prod him along, “Is this for my benefit or yours?”
That took him by surprise for a second and he popped out of his momentary daze. He put one of his large hands on her back to keep her in place and raised that nasty spoon. After this she knew she’d never use a wooden spoon in the kitchen again. Especially not after the first evil Swack! landed in a manner meant to capture her full attention.