Terms of Surrender

by Shirley Rogers

  Tanya lay on her side and watched him disappear through the door. After making love with him in his office, they'd come to his condo to shower and change their clothes. David had taken her out to dinner, then they'd returned to his place, where they'd spent the rest of the evening in bed.

  As David had assured her, by the time they'd left the office, everyone else had gone, including Jessica. Even though David had said that no one would disturb them, Tanya was sure that his assistant had known exactly what they were doing behind those locked doors.

  She blushed just thinking about how they'd made love in David's office as she glanced around his bedroom. Located near his work, his home was in a high-rise complex. His condo was classy, roomy and surprisingly comfortable. Spacious rooms and luxurious furnishings filled his apartment. The bathroom, with a spa tub and separate shower, was larger than ones she'd seen in fancy homes on television.

  Still, the entire apartment lacked the coziness that always offered her comfort at the plantation. That David considered Atlanta his home and felt perfectly comfortable here in this apartment spoke volumes about him. He was used to the finer things in life, not the hard, physical work of the plantation.

  Her stomach growled. Rather than wait for him to come back to bed, she got up, thinking she'd make them breakfast while he was on the telephone. Spotting his shirt, she slipped it on and buttoned it up. It covered her to the tops of her thighs, and she felt presentable enough to move around the house.

  She was walking down the hall when she heard David's voice. Realizing that he was on the phone in the kitchen, she stopped in the hall, not wanting to interrupt him. Though she hadn't intended on listening to his conversation, when she heard him mention Cottonwood, she stilled. Her curiosity kept her feet planted to the floor. David's voice was clear and terse as he spoke to Justin.

  "Because I have no choice." After a few moments of silence, he spoke again, this time his voice lower and much more succinct. "I made that clear from the start. My plans haven't changed."

  Tanya's breath got trapped in her lungs.

  Because I have no choice.

  She'd known all along that David was staying at Cottonwood out of necessity, not because he wanted to be there. Why had she let herself believe a week had changed anything?

  I made that clear from the start. My plans haven't changed.

  Dizziness overcame her as she struggled to make her way back to the bedroom. She was a fool. Though she'd told herself that he could change, that maybe one day he would grow to love the plantation and want to make it his home, she'd been wrong. His feelings for Cottonwood went only as deep as his desire to keep the plantation in his family.

  And his feelings for her? Her gaze fell on the rumpled bed. He desired her. Pure and simple, he desired her. And he'd never once led her to believe anything permanent would come from their relationship. If she'd hoped David would fall in love with her, she needed to face reality. That wasn't going to happen.

  On the verge of tears, Tanya sat on the edge of the bed, her heart aching. Would his desire for her be enough for her to live with? She'd loved him practically from the moment she'd first seen him, when she'd been a lost teenager trying to find her way in a new and scary place.

  All those years ago, when he'd walked away from her, she'd been hurt, but it had been the kind of misery she'd been able to live with. Could she spend the next year making love with him, knowing in her heart that he would be leaving her and returning to his life here in Atlanta?

  Before she could think of what she should do, David strolled back into the room. Glancing at him, she swallowed past the lump in her throat and found the courage to speak. "Is everything all right? Do you have to go to the office?"

  David's gaze drifted over her, noticing the tightness in her features. He was beginning to recognize her moods, knew when she was angry or worried or sad. He wondered if something had upset her in the few minutes he'd been on the phone. But he couldn't think of what. "No. Justin's going to take care of what I needed to do this morning." At her frown, he asked, "Are you okay?"

  She gave him a smile that didn't quite make it to her eyes. "I'm fine. I guess I should shower and change so we can pack."

  He didn't miss the catch in her voice when she spoke. Something was definitely wrong. "There's no rush. We have plenty of time. Thanksgiving isn't until tomorrow."

  Avoiding his gaze, Tanya stood and gathered some clothes to take into the bathroom. "I know, but I'm anxious to go home."

  "You sure you're okay?" Despite her assurances, he didn't miss the trace of tears in her eyes. Massaging her shoulder with his hand, he asked, "Did you have a bad dream after I got up?"

  Tanya forced herself to meet his gaze. "Yes," she lied. It was then that she realized she hadn't had a dream last night. How strange, she thought. She'd begun to believe that her memory could be returning, and last night she hadn't had even a hint of a dream.

  "Do you want to talk about it?"

  "What?" She looked at him, her expression perplexed. "Um, no." Stepping away, she disengaged herself from him. "I'm okay. Just a bit shaken." That was the truth. It just didn't have anything to do with a dream.

  "Go ahead and shower, then. Maybe you'll feel better."

  Tanya took a quick shower, anxious to get home, where she could be by herself. She needed to think about what, if anything, she should do about her relationship with David. When she came back into the room, she was practically dressed. "Your turn," she said, making an effort to keep her voice even.

  David headed for the bathroom, then stopped beside her and kissed her. Her eyelids drifted shut as his mouth moved on hers. Despite the warning to her heart, she slipped her hands up to his chest and sank into his kiss, greedy for every moment she could have with him. She'd known she was taking a risk when she'd become involved with David. He put his arms around her and drew her tighter against his body. Heat flared quickly inside her, ignited by his nearness, by his mouth possessing hers.

  "You smell wonderful," he rasped, and his mouth moved to her throat.

  "David," she whispered, knowing that if she didn't stop kissing him, they'd end up in bed. She placed her hands against his chest, could feel the rapid beat of his heart. "Your shower," she prompted, her breathing uneven. "We need to leave shortly."

  "I know," he said, then kissed her mouth again.

  When he lifted his head, she licked her lips, tasting him, and it made her want him even more. Still, she wanted to go home. To Cottonwood. Where she felt safe. "I'll be ready by the time you're finished."

  He nodded, then stepped away and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Tears stung her eyes as she began packing her clothes. What was she going to do? What could she do? She loved him. But she realized the hopelessness of her situation.

  David didn't love her.

  He never would.

  * * *

  Ten

  « ^ »

  Holding back the curtain, Tanya stared out the dining room window at the bare trees that lined the long driveway to the main house. Paralleling her gloomy mood, Thanksgiving Day had arrived with a dark, overcast sky. A chill swept through her that had nothing to do with the crisp weather outside. She'd been looking forward to this day, to spending it with David. Now that it had arrived, she felt a vague sense of uneasiness, an anxiety that she couldn't explain. Lately, nothing in her life had gone right.

  Well, that wasn't entirely true. She'd fulfilled her dream of being with David, of lying in his arms and making love with him.

  But at what price? her mind whispered. At the price of your heart?

  Yes. That was a done deal.

  She clenched her bottom lip with her teeth and sighed, wishing with all her heart that he loved her as well. Though he'd been attentive and loving toward her since they'd arrived home, he'd never once whispered words of love to her.

  Tanya knew better than to expect him to, but the yearning of her heart wasn't so easy to control. Though she knew that David had bee
n hurt in the past, first by Edward, and later by his ex-fiancée, Melanie, she still wanted him to love her, to ask her to stay at Cottonwood with him forever.

  And wasn't that the stuff fairy tales were made of? Wishes and dreams?

  As she turned from the window, the painting hanging over the large, cherry buffet caught her attention. Edward had told her that, as a present for David's mother, he'd hired an artist to paint Cottonwood shortly after they'd married. The artist had perfectly caught the architecture of the house and grounds, painting it in warm hues of color, capturing its soul in a hauntingly still image.

  Everything she loved about it.

  But no matter how she felt about this house, David could never be happy here. She knew that now. For him, there were too many unhappy memories, memories he seemed unable to let go.

  Even for her.

  She really couldn't blame him; she even understood why. As a child, he'd felt rejected by his father, and he'd never recovered from it.

  She'd seen how dynamic and intense he could be when discussing a business deal with Justin or on a telephone conference with a client.

  That man was the real David Taylor. Atlanta was the life he'd yearned for when he'd left here. He'd worked hard to build a lucrative business. He was doing what he was meant to do.

  David had never planned on returning to Cottonwood or being forced to live here. His feelings for her hadn't altered his plans.

  Their affair had only complicated things between them. No matter how much it hurt her, she had to face that simple truth—she would have to leave Cottonwood. She couldn't live here with him, not without continuing their relationship. And continuing to live here with him, making love with him, would only cause her more pain in the end. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be when he walked away and returned to Atlanta.

  She drew in a deep breath. Having made the decision to leave, peace enveloped her, an inner calm that had eluded her since returning from Atlanta. It would be hard to go, but in the long run, her heartache would be easier to live with if she wasn't living at Cottonwood. Though Edward's will stipulated that she could work here as long as she wanted, if she left, David would immediately inherit the plantation.

  Which was what he'd always wanted.

  At the sound of footsteps, Tanya moved away from the window. Her heart ached at the sight of David as he came into the room.

  She forced a smile to her lips as their eyes met. "Hi."

  David pulled her into his arms. "Hi, yourself." He kissed her mouth hungrily, then leaned away and examined her face. "You okay?" Not for the first time, he wondered what she had been thinking since they'd left Atlanta. Upon arriving home, she'd been unusually quiet. Something was bothering her. Whenever he'd asked what was troubling her, she'd quickly denied anything was wrong, leading him to believe he had no reason to worry.

  Until he saw her again. The inherent sadness in her eyes prompted his concern, and his doubts resurfaced.

  "I'm fine. Are you ready to go? The celebration should be about ready to get underway."

  Excited about sharing Cotton Creek's Thanksgiving celebration with her, David picked up her jacket from the coat tree as they walked into the foyer. He remembered the fun times he'd shared with his parents when he'd gone to the festival as a child. After his mother had died, he'd gone alone or with a friend.

  Never with his father.

  Thinking of his father failed to spoil David's anticipation of going to the celebration with Tanya. That surprised him. Now he was able to remember the good times with his father without feeling the pain and rejection that had kept him away from home.

  "You might need this," he said, and helped her slip on her coat. "The temperature's dropped outside. I think a cold front moved through this morning." With the mention of the cooler temperature, David found himself thinking about being at Cottonwood during the winter months, spending even more time with Tanya. Snuggling up to a warm fire. Making love to her.

  The late afternoon air was cool as they got into his car. Minutes later, as they arrived at the edge of the small town, music spilled out from the festival area.

  "I think that's a high school band," she said as David pulled to the curb on one of the side streets and parked.

  "They sound pretty good." He was out of the car and rounding the front as Tanya opened her door. They made their way behind a row of buildings toward the music.

  As they approached the celebration, a sensation of homecoming overwhelmed David. The festival, held in a large park located in the center of town, was hidden from view from the main streets. Balloons and streamers hung from the many trees. Food vendors lined the outer edges of the park, and a crowd had already gathered throughout the area. A temporary stage had been set up in the center of the park for a band to perform prior to the fireworks that would conclude the evening.

  Surprisingly, little about the town and park had changed since David's last visit. The trees were taller and some of the faces were different due to the town's increased population. Excitement pulsed through the crowd walking along the winding sidewalks.

  For the first time in what seemed like a century, David felt as if he belonged in Cotton Creek. Coming home hadn't been as difficult as he'd once thought it would be since he'd dealt with his father's death. Was it possible that he could put his feelings for his father completely to rest and make Cottonwood his home again?

  Because of Tanya?

  The thought didn't scare him as it once would have. He could see himself living here, strolling through the park with Tanya, their kids romping in the playground. The possibility of sharing the rest of his life with her filled an emptiness inside him that had haunted him for years.

  That he could even think of living here was remarkable. Because he'd been trying to prove to his father that he was a success for so long, he'd forgotten how to just enjoy life. The value of his roots.

  And he had them here. They grew deep. Generations of his ancestors had made Cottonwood Plantation their home.

  Memories of his mother were here, memories he cherished. How could he have ever believed that he could stay away?

  As they meandered through the growing crowd of people, David tightened his hold on Tanya's hand, interlacing their fingers. Stopping every now and then, they spoke to friends and acquaintances. He even reminisced with a few of the people he'd known in high school.

  Tanya spotted a vendor selling cotton candy and she practically squealed. "You can buy it in the store now, in a bag, did you know that?" she asked, her eyes filled with excitement as she dragged him to the line. "But it isn't nearly as good as getting it made right in front of you."

  David chuckled, then fished in his pocket for money. "It doesn't take much to make you happy, does it?" he asked as he paid the vendor, then handed Tanya the cotton candy.

  Only your love, Tanya's mind whispered. But she already knew that was too much to ask for. She forced herself not to think about the decision she'd made to leave, wanting only to cherish each moment she had with David. Sticking her tongue out at him, she started to turn and walk to the stand where the high school band was playing, but was halted abruptly as David pulled her to him for a kiss.

  "You taste like cherries and sugar."

  She grinned. "Are you complaining?"

  "No, but I want to do a lot more than just taste you." With a grin, he kissed her again, a drugging, sensual bonding of their mouths that made him want to touch her in places not allowed in public.

  Tanya moaned softly as she broke away and stepped back, smiling at him. "Want some?" she asked, then before he could answer, she stuffed a gob of the sugary mass into his mouth. "Isn't it—"

  "Oh, my God! Victoria?"

  Tanya started, and a chill raced down her spine. Unsure why, she shrugged off the uneasy feeling, then glanced at the woman who had spoken to her. There was a man with her, someone she was sure she'd never seen.

  The woman, well, Tanya wasn't so sure. She didn't recognize her, but there was somet
hing about her that seemed … familiar. Her eyes were wide with shock, her mouth hung open as she stared back. She seemed genuinely startled, and obviously she thought she was someone Tanya knew. "No, I'm sorry. You must have me confused with someone else." Smiling politely, Tanya turned and started to walk away.

  "No! Wait!"

  Grabbing her arm, the woman stopped Tanya. Every muscle in Tanya's body tensed. She turned to face her again, and the uneasy feeling inside her escalated, frightening her. "Yes?"

  "Victoria, it's Imogene!" the woman cried.

  Tanya stared at her, wondering what she should say. Obviously, this lady thought she knew her. But no matter how hard she tried, Tanya couldn't recall meeting her. "I told you, my name isn't Victoria. It's Tanya, Tanya Winters." But even as she said the words, a sensation that she'd seen the woman before overwhelmed her. Her pulse began to race. "Perhaps we've met before, but I'm sorry, I just can't place you."

  Her gaze slid over the woman, her mind searching for some recollection of where they might have met. Only a few years older than herself, the woman's chin-length blond hair framed her pretty face. And there was something intriguing in her striking green eyes. They were incredulous, drawing Tanya in.

  Tanya drew in a sharp breath as the full impact of the woman's statement hit her. The woman believed that she was someone named Victoria.

  The man with her, well, if Tanya had met him before, there was no way she would have forgotten him. Tall and handsome, his raven hair was a stark contrast to his intense gray eyes. No, she was sure she'd never seen him.

  "Look," David interjected, concerned that the stranger hadn't let Tanya go. "Obviously she looks like—"

  "No, please give me a minute," the woman implored, her voice gentle but insistent, her gaze fierce. "Please, listen to me. I'm not mistaken." She glanced briefly at her companion, as if appealing for his help, then back to them. "Look," she said, seeming to take a moment to calm herself. "My name is Imogene Shakir. This is my husband, Raf. My maiden name is Danforth." As if she expected Tanya to recognize her name, she stopped speaking and waited.