Sanctuary Cove

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Sanctuary Cove Page 24

by Rochelle Alers


  The back door opened and Asa entered. “It’s beginning to rain.”

  Deborah closed the distance between them. “I’d better get home before it comes down too hard.”

  Cradling her face, Asa brushed his mouth over hers. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”

  She deepened the kiss, and then forced herself to pull away. “I would love to, but I have to make certain Crystal packs everything she needs for her sleepover.”

  Resting his hand on her hip, he pulled her closer. “When are we going to have a sleepover?”

  “Tomorrow night. The kids are staying over in Charleston. I’ll call you after they leave and you can come and get me. If my car is parked out back all night I think it would raise a lot of suspicion as to why I’m hanging out here after closing.” Ironically the gossip Hannah had spread about her sleeping with Asa had died, when in reality they were now actually sleeping together.

  “Tell them you’re celebrating Valentine’s Day with your man.”

  Deborah’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you really my man, Asa? I didn’t think so,” she said when he didn’t answer. “We’re two ships passing in the night. And when it’s over I’m certain I won’t have any regrets and neither should you. Good night.”

  Asa stood there, amazed and very shaken that Deborah could be that disconnected when it came to their relationship. Yes, they were friends, but they had become much more. They were now lovers and every time he made love to her he found it more and more difficult not to blurt out what lay in his heart. He didn’t want to leave her or Sanctuary Cove, but knew his leaving was inevitable. The last time he’d checked his e-mail the reply was that he would receive a determination as to his status within three weeks. He’d looked at the calendar and had begun counting the days. Between now and March fourth he would know his fate.

  Asa was suddenly attacked by a gamut of emotions. He was in love with Deborah, wanted to marry her, but he also wanted to fulfill his dream of working for DWB. Long ago, he’d talked to his son, telling Isaac that once he became a doctor and took over his father’s practice Asa would become a humanitarian physician, offering free medical care to those in need and in war zones. But now, instead of joining Doctors Without Borders at sixty-five, it would become a reality at forty-six.

  Chapter Nineteen

  This isn’t the way to the bookstore, Asa.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re driving toward the causeway. Where are we going?”

  “Out.”

  “Out where?”

  “I’m taking you to a place where we can have a proper Valentine’s Day celebration.”

  She glanced down at her peach-colored twinset and chocolate-brown slacks. “I’m not dressed.”

  Asa gave her a quick glance. “You look okay.”

  “I don’t want to look just okay, Asa. You could’ve told me beforehand and I would have at least put on some makeup.”

  “You look beautiful without it.”

  “If you don’t tell me where we’re going I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” he smiled. “You’re not going to do anything but sit back and enjoy the ride and the night.”

  Pouting, she folded her arms under her breasts. “This will be the first and the very last time I’ll agree to a sleepover with you,” she said, trying to hide her excitement.

  They rode in silence and Asa wanted to tell Deborah she was probably right; that was why he wanted this night for lovers to be a special one for them. He touched a button on the wheel and music flowed around them. Traffic was heavier than usual heading toward Charleston. Following the GPS, once they were on the mainland, he turned down a street and maneuvered into the drive leading to a small boutique hotel. “Don’t move,” he told Deborah as he parked, then got out and retrieved their bags from behind the front seats. Setting them on the ground, he opened the passenger-side door and extended his hand to help her out.

  As Deborah looked around, Asa could see the realization in her eyes. “No, you didn’t,” she said softly.

  He smiled and winked at her. “Yes, I did. See, I planned something special for us, and you caught a major attitude.”

  “I wouldn’t have had an attitude if you’d told me where we were going.”

  “If I did, then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.”

  A bellman came out to greet them. “Dr. and Mrs. Monroe?”

  “Yes,” Asa replied.

  “Welcome, sir. I’ll take these to your room while you check in.”

  Reaching into the pocket of his slacks, he handed the man a bill. “Thank you.”

  The bellman nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  Asa rested his hand at the small of Deborah’s back. “Come, darling. Let’s check in, and then we can relax.”

  “When you made the reservation did you put me down as Mrs. Monroe?”

  “No. He probably assumed you’re my wife.”

  They walked into the converted mansion. Chandeliers, marble flooring, stately antiques, and reproductions of oil paintings of bewigged men graced the ornate lobby. She stood beside Asa as he gave the clerk a credit card and his driver’s license.

  The woman, with a peaches-and-cream complexion and friendly light-brown eyes, gave him a smile. “Your suite is ready. Go down the hall on your right. Suite 147 is at the end of the hall.” She gave him two cardkeys. “Enjoy your stay.”

  Deborah looped her arm over Asa’s as they walked down the carpeted hallway. “You are chock-full of surprises.”

  “I aim to please,” he drawled.

  “I’m pleased.”

  “Good.”

  Asa patted the hand on his arm. He slipped the key in the slot, waiting for the green signal, then pushed it open. Dozens of candles flickered in the semi-dark suite. When he’d called to make the reservation he had requested the special Valentine’s package with candles, flowers, chocolate, and dinner with wine and champagne. He’d ordered wine because he remembered Deborah had little or no tolerance for bubbly.

  He closed the door and caught her hand. “Let’s see what the bedroom looks like.” There were more candles in the bedroom, and there was enough illumination to see the California-king four-poster bed. Rose petals littered the sheets and pile of pillows.

  They walked through the bedroom and into the bath. More candles lined a garden tub and the ledge of twin marble sinks. Porcelain dishes were filled with chocolate and flower petals. She returned to the bedroom to find their bags on luggage racks, and thick bathrobes spread over the foot of the bed.

  “I love it, Asa. Thank you.”

  He walked over to her, took her face in his hands and nibbled her lip. “I’m the one who should be thanking you. Come over here. I ordered a little something to eat before we begin our sleepover.”

  They sat at the table in the dining area, eating steak frites, an Asian slaw, and a fruit salad with fresh pineapple, pears, strawberries, and shredded coconut. Asa drank two glasses of rosé to her one, and she didn’t protest when he carried her into the bathroom and undressed her and then himself while the tub filled with water. She settled into the warm water, resting her head on a bath pillow. Asa stepped in and sat behind her and started up the Jacuzzi.

  “Are you falling asleep on me?” he whispered in her ear.

  “No. I’m just relaxing my eyes. Do you know what?” she asked, after a pregnant pause.

  “What, baby?”

  “I’ll always remember this Valentine’s Day.”

  Asa kissed her hair. “And I’ll always remember you.”

  Deborah took a deep breath, trying to will away the negative thoughts that threatened the magic. She didn’t know why she felt like crying. Maybe it was because something told her this would be their last time together even though Asa planned to stay until spring. But if he was going to leave, then she told herself she preferred now rather than later, before she found herself in too deep.

  Did she know what she wanted from Asa aside from their lovemaking? Did she want him to be a
part of her future? Or could she hope to become a part of his?

  “What’s frightened you, Debs? Your heart is beating so fast.”

  Deborah stared at the hand cradling her left breast. How had she forgotten he was a doctor and no doubt tuned into subtle changes in her body? “I was thinking about making love with you,” she lied smoothly.

  “That makes two of us. There are very few times when I’m not thinking about making love to you. If you were a drug, then you would be an opiate. Every time I hear the word ‘siesta’ it will remind me of making love with you.”

  “I’m that addictive?”

  “Crazy addictive.”

  “That sounds serious, Dr. Monroe.”

  “You just don’t know how serious I am.”

  Deborah reclined against Asa’s chest while bubbles eddied over her body; moisture beaded her face and curled her hair. Her apprehension was slowly replaced by an inner peace that swept away her fear, uneasiness, and confusion. She was resigned to let Asa go.

  “Are you ready to go to bed?”

  She exhaled a lingering sigh. “I think so.”

  Asa stood up and stepped out of the tub. Reaching for a towel from a stack on a chair, he dried his body. He helped her from the tub, blotting the moisture from her body.

  Deborah lay on her side, waiting for Asa to join her in bed. The suite was exquisite, the food and wine delicious, and her date generous, attentive, and sexy. He was the addictive drug—she never got enough of him. Whenever they made love during siesta, it was never enough for her, because she wanted seconds and thirds. Despite his asking her to delay going home after closing, she never did; she and Asa were consenting adults but she didn’t want to flaunt her affair, risking that her children might become fodder for gossip.

  A soft gasp escaped her when his hand slipped between her thighs. Deborah managed to turn until she was facing him. Her hand closed on his flaccid flesh, stroking gently until he grew hard and heavy against her palm. They had time to explore, arouse, and offer each other ultimate pleasure. Her fingers moved over the hard planes of his body like a sculptor admiring her design.

  She snuggled against him, their limbs entwined. Her hand reached lower. Her fingers tightened until he gasped before she eased her grip. She repeated the touch over and over until Deborah found herself on her back with Asa inside her. The ferocity of his penetration sent her libido into overdrive. Grunts, groans, moans, arching, and thrusting punctuated the coupling—not lovemaking this time, but mating. They strained to get closer and together they found a tempo where their bodies were in perfect harmony. Waves of ecstasy held them captive until the dam broke, and they surrendered to a passion that left them shuddering from release.

  It wasn’t long after his heart rate slowed and erection had gone down that Asa realized the enormity of what had happened. He hadn’t used a condom. Even when he’d been a randy teenage boy he’d never not used protection when sleeping with a woman. The only exception had been his wife. “Forgive me,” he whispered hoarsely. “Please forgive me,” he repeated over and over, his voice breaking.

  Deborah cradled Asa’s head to her chest. “Don’t, Asa. I’m safe.”

  His head came up. “Are you sure?”

  “Ninety percent sure.”

  Asa’s eyes searched Deborah’s. They were calm. “It won’t happen again.”

  He pulled away from Deborah and lay on his back. Asa knew he had to tell her about what he’d planned for the next year. She had to know he wasn’t some nomad wandering about the country, stopping only when he was too mentally and physically exhausted to go further.

  “Deborah.” Reaching over, he pulled her close to his body. “I need to tell you something.”

  “You’re leaving.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I feel it. Here in my heart,” she whispered. “When?”

  “As soon as I’m notified that I’ve been accepted by Doctors Without Borders.”

  Asa felt Deborah’s heart skip a beat. “Doctors Without Borders?”

  “Yes. I’d always planned to work as a humanitarian doctor when I retired, but after Claire and Isaac died I filled out an application. I’ll know within three weeks whether I’ll be going.”

  Deborah wanted to cry. But she didn’t.

  She wanted to scream and throw things. But she wouldn’t.

  “How… long have you been planning this, Asa?”

  “I just told you…”

  “No. How long did you plan to sleep with me before you leave town?” Jerking away from Asa, she sat up. “Why didn’t you tell me your hopes before we started sleeping together?”

  Asa pushed into a sitting position. “I never deceived you. You knew I wasn’t going to stay.”

  She extended her hand, caressing his face gently. “You know, you’re right, Asa,” she said with a sad smile. “This is my mistake. It’s just… when you announced at the town council meeting you were a snowbird I thought you would probably stay for the winter. And then when you came into the bookstore for a job, I was more than aware you were transient and temporary, but I guess I thought I meant enough for you to stay.”

  “You’re wrong. It wasn’t like that.”

  “I know, Asa, because it isn’t like that.” She turned to gaze into his eyes as she caressed his cheek. “You are a very special man, Asa Monroe. What kind of monster would I be to deny you the chance to help people who need you?”

  “Deborah, I—”

  “But I can’t pretend this doesn’t change things.” A gentle kiss on the lips silenced him. “Good night, Asa.”

  Asa drove back to Sanctuary Cove and dropped Deborah at her house, then headed for the bookstore. Everything had changed when he decided to tell her about DWB last night. He knew she had a reason to be angry. She was right. He should’ve told her about his dream of practicing abroad even before he’d blurted out that he was a widower.

  He hadn’t told Deborah about Claire and Isaac; he’d told her children. He’d wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he thought she probably wouldn’t believe that. What Asa hadn’t wanted to acknowledge was his fear of losing her if he told her about DWB. He knew she was comfortable with his disclosure that he was a snowbird, because that left open the possibility that he would return the following winter. But once he was assigned to work in Africa he doubted whether he would ever return to Sanctuary Cove—or even the States, for that matter.

  The thought pained Asa. He realized how much he was going to miss Deborah and her children. He wanted to get to know them better—form a relationship with them, especially after Crystal’s heartfelt outburst at Sunday’s dinner. She’d resented him for taking her father’s position at the table, but he had been able to ease her fears. That made him feel good and had also helped him to deal with his own grief.

  However, he hadn’t been completely honest. When he’d returned to his apartment he realized that he did want to occupy that place at Deborah’s table and in their lives, not just on Sundays but every day. Asa wanted to fill the void that Louis had left.

  Asa had reminded Deborah over and over that despite losing her husband she still had her children, and now him, while all he had were memories. Painfully, he knew what he had to do. He had to make a clean break and leave Sanctuary Cove. The bookstore was doing well and it could practically run itself. And one thing he knew about Deborah Robinson: she was a survivor. She’d survived a scandal to protect her children. And she would survive what she viewed as his duplicity.

  Deborah entered through the rear door of The Parlor, expecting to see Asa, and she wasn’t disappointed to find him standing there waiting for her. “You’re leaving today.” The query was a statement.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “You’re welcome to stay until you hear from DWB.”

  Asa angled his head. “That would complicate everything. It doesn’t matter what you think or believe, because this, what we have, isn’t about sex. It was never about sex.”

  “What was i
t about, Asa?”

  “You. Me. Friendship and feelings that go so deep they are impossible to explain. That’s what it is all about. I’ll write you. Every day. And that’s a promise.”

  Placing a hand over her mouth, Deborah willed the tears filling her eyes not to fall. Not now, or she would blurt out how much she loved him. She sniffled. “I’ll accept your promise, but never an apology.”

  He winked at her. “That’s a promise. Now, close the door and give me a hug.”

  Deborah pushed the door closed and stepped into Asa’s outstretched arms. She inhaled his familiar scent, committing it to memory. “Thanks for everything, friend.”

  Asa dropped a kiss on her curls. “You’re welcome, friend.”

  Chapter Twenty

  It was April and spring had come to the Lowcountry, bringing a foreshadowing of the intense summer heat that would make it impossible to remain outdoors for long periods of time.

  Asa kept his promise to write every day. The postcards had stamps from Myrtle Beach, Brunswick, Savannah, Jacksonville, and Miami. Then they stopped for three weeks before they started up again, this time from South Africa.

  She read the latest one:

  Hi Debs,

  Arrived in South Africa yesterday.

  It’s beautiful and hot. For the first time in my life I own a firearm. It’s not to protect me from criminals, but from the wildlife.

  I love my work and the people—especially the children. When I get a chance to go shopping I’ll send you something for the bookstore.

  Give Whitney and Crystal my best.

  Love, Asa

  “Mrs. Robinson, you’re next.”

  Deborah put the postcard in her handbag and stood up. She’d made an appointment to see her doctor because she hadn’t been feeling well. She woke up tired and went to bed tired. Maybe she needed vitamins or iron pills.

  Forty-five minutes later she knew why she’d been so tired. She was pregnant! Deborah had told Asa she was ninety percent certain she wouldn’t get pregnant, but she was wrong. The only reason she’d been so adamant was because she thought she knew her body. For years she and Louis had used the rhythm method and she’d never gotten pregnant, but apparently it hadn’t worked with Asa. After all her preaching to Crystal about teenage pregnancy, safe sex, and marriage, she was going to be an unwed mother.

 

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