His chest gave a hard squeeze. “What do you mean, she cried?”
“She said she hadn’t cried since she was a teenager, but she sat in my kitchen, crying her heart out. Over you.”
That helpless feeling washed over him in a cold sweat. What was he supposed to say? Or do? “How do you know it was over me? Did she say that?” He couldn’t imagine her making that kind of confession.
“Not exactly, but believe me, she was upset about you.”
Shane wanted to punch something. Why did he feel bad about this? She was the one who failed to mention she was marrying another guy. Never once did she bring it up when he’d had his hands and mouth all over her. He shouldn’t care that she was upset.
But he did.
He pushed out, through gritted teeth, “You’re assuming. It probably has nothing to do with me.”
“Don’t be an idiot. It was because of you.”
He forced the words out, despite the voice in his head insisting they were a lie. “Cecilia is not my concern.”
“I see.” Gracie cleared her throat. “I thought you should know.”
“You thought wrong.” His tone so sharp it could cut steel.
“There’s something wrong here, Shane.”
He tightened his grip on the phone receiver, so tight he was surprised it didn’t shatter. “Her fiancé will have to fix it. She’s not my problem.”
“That’s such bullshit. Don’t pussy out.”
He growled, a low, warning grumble. “I do not pussy out. Ever.” And he had the track record to prove it. He pounded his fist on the desk because he needed something physical to relieve some of the aggression building like a storm. “What don’t you people understand here?” His voice raised several decibels too loud. “She’s getting married! ”
“She doesn’t love that guy,” Gracie said, her tone stubborn.
“You don’t know that.”
“Of course I do. She didn’t even mention him. Your name, however, was brought up quite often.”
He refused to ask. “That doesn’t change the fact that she’s getting married.”
She let out a short little scream. “You’re being stupid.”
No. He was being smart. He wasn’t getting any more involved than he already was. “Good-bye, Gracie.”
He hung up before she could say anything else that might convince him otherwise.
Penelope walked back into the room holding a glass of water and two rust-colored pills. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He drank them down and pointed to the door. “Go play with Maddie for the rest of the day.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “The meeting with the teamsters isn’t until tomorrow morning, and we’re at a standstill until then. So go.”
Maddie walked into the room, carrying her cell phone. She plopped down on the chair. “Mom called.”
“Is she having a good time?” Shane asked. After much prodding, they’d finally talked their mother into going to Ireland, a lifelong dream of hers. She was having a great time but called them daily for one reason or another.
“She said she tried to get ahold of you, but you haven’t answered her messages.”
Penelope patted his back. “It’s been crazy.”
Maddie frowned, her brow creasing. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine.” He snapped the word, not sounding fine at all. “What did she need?”
The frown deepened. “She said you’re going to the Children’s Hospital benefit on Friday night back in Chicago.”
He nodded. “I’ll be back on Saturday.”
“When you go home, she asked if you’d check on Aunt Cathy. She’s worried she’s lonely and doesn’t have enough company.”
Their eccentric, elderly great-aunt had no children, despite multiple marriages, and at eighty-eight was once again a widow. Shane sighed and put it on the mental list running in his head. “No problem, tell Mom I’ll take care of it and head over there Saturday morning.”
“Are you sure?” Maddie swiped her hair out of her face. “Maybe James and I can take a day trip?”
“It’s fine. I’ve got it covered.” He gave Penelope that look, the one that said Get her out of here.
Penelope smiled and gestured toward the entryway. “Come on, let’s go before he changes his mind and I’m stuck here for the rest of the day.”
Maddie jumped up and thirty seconds later they were gone and he was finally alone. He silenced his phone and rubbed his temples, his thoughts immediately going back to Cecilia and his phone call with Gracie.
Why had she been crying? And what exactly was going on with this engagement of hers?
Nothing about it made sense. Despite her flaws, he didn’t see her as a cheater. And hell, even if she didn’t have a moral compass, she cared so much about her image she’d never take the risk.
Besides, nothing about her seemed taken. Not once had she seemed conflicted when he’d kissed her. Wouldn’t a newly engaged woman have resisted at least a little? And now that he’d touched her, he could no longer convince himself she’d be that cold.
The whole situation didn’t add up.
He glanced at his computer. The Internet called to him like a siren’s song and he didn’t resist. He clicked the icon and thirty seconds later he’d located the article.
Senator Nathaniel & Mrs. Charlotte Riley announce the engagement of their daughter . . .
Shane skimmed the announcement, which said nothing of significance. It was a puff piece that gave him no clues. He studied the photo of Cecilia and Miles Fletcher. It was one of those posed engagement pictures, both of them staring off into space looking polished, rich, and barely human.
The Cecilia in the photo looked nothing like the woman he’d held in his arms. There was beauty but no warmth. No joy. It was just flat. She had her hands folded in front of her and on her left finger was at least a two-carat diamond engagement ring.
Where was her ring? What woman gets engaged and slips the ring off the next day? It’s unheard of, especially with a rock like that.
He was pretty sure someone would have to pry Maddie’s ring off her cold, dead finger.
So why wasn’t Cecilia wearing hers? Why hadn’t she mentioned the engagement to anyone? Sam was right. What girl did that?
And did he want to find out?
Cecilia walked toward the farmhouse, exhausted and drained, ready to lie down after her horrible night’s sleep. But at the last second she veered off, and instead of going into the house she made her way to the backyard.
She didn’t have to look for it. It was still there, to the left of the biggest willow tree. The path that would lead her to the river where she’d spent so many hours as a child. She didn’t know why she was compelled to go there, and she supposed it didn’t matter. The veil of leaves blocked out the sun as she walked through the wooded area. She took a deep breath, sucking in the scent of grass and oak and dirt. All reminders of the best times in her childhood.
Tears welled in her eyes when the trees cleared and the river appeared, glittering in the late afternoon sun.
It looked exactly the same.
Every morning she and Mitch would race through breakfast to meet Gracie and Sam. They’d spread out big white sheets, held down by their boom box, a big jug of lemonade, and the Teen Beat magazines Gracie had introduced her to.
They’d spent hours splashing in the river. Slathered with baby oil, lying out in the sun as Salt-n-Pepa, Sheryl Crow, and Ace of Base played on one of Gracie’s endless mix tapes.
And she’d been just a girl.
The longer she stayed here, the more kinship she felt with that girl. The more she missed her. The more she wanted to be her.
Was that why she was sabotaging herself? Because she could no longer pretend that wasn’t the case. Since she was six years old she’d been set on running for office. But now, with everything in motion, she couldn’t work up the slightest bit of interest. And she couldn’t understand why.
All she knew was that every time she thought about settling down to work, a knot balled up in her stomach and wouldn’t ease until she did something else.
Shielding her eyes, she glanced up to see the big, overgrown tree branch hanging over the water. The urge welled inside her, fast and unexpected, but exactly right. She wanted to jump.
No. Needed to jump.
She didn’t question the desire and kicked off her sandals as she stripped out of her pants and shirt, leaving on her bra and panties. She walked over to the tree and planted her hands on the trunk, surveying the branches to remember the path she used to take. The bark scraped her hands and feet but she didn’t care; it felt familiar, like a home she didn’t even know she had.
And she began to climb.
It was like riding a bike. She scaled the branches until she sat perched on the oldest and thickest one hanging over the river. When she reached the jump spot, she peered down into the water, a gray blue that glittered like gemstones in the sun.
It was higher than she’d remembered. Scarier. Her rational, adult brain clicked through all the risks associated with jumping into unknown water.
She shook her head. No. She was doing this.
She didn’t know why it was important, but it was.
Heart pounding, she stopped thinking, and jumped.
The water was ice-cold as she plunged into the depths and came up screaming and gasping for air. She shivered, her whole body breaking out into goose bumps.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Shane’s voice had her whipping around.
Arms crossed over his broad chest, he stood there looking like a thundercloud meant to rain on her parade.
She treaded water and stated the obvious. “I jumped.”
“No shit,” he said, and pointed at the tree. “Do you know how dangerous that is? What if you broke your neck?”
“It’s fine.” Her skin numbed to the cold. “I did it all the time as a kid.”
“Twenty years ago!” he yelled. “Get out of that water, your lips are turning blue.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Tone refined, despite the kick of temper in her belly. “Go away.”
“No.”
They stared at each other for a long, long time and even when her teeth started to chatter she didn’t back down.
Finally, he dragged a hand through his hair. “Are you going to tell me the truth about this engagement of yours?”
She bit her lower lip and looked away. “No.”
“See, Cecilia, that’s the wrong answer.”
She frowned and risked a glance at him, her legs still churning in the water.
He shook his head. “A woman in love answers differently.”
Only then did she recognize how telling it was.
“Of course, most women in love don’t go to bed with other men on their engagement weekend.”
“We didn’t go to bed.” But the words rang false. A technicality.
Shane crossed his arms and stared at her with that green, piercing gaze, silent and waiting.
She wanted him to know. Wanted to tell him the truth.
It frightened her. It meant he mattered.
“You and I both know if they’d walked in five minutes later I’d already have been inside you.”
She flushed hot, despite the icy water.
He crooked his finger. “Get out of the water. You’re freezing.”
She shook her head. “I’m not dressed.”
“I watched you strip out of your clothes, and what I haven’t seen, I’ve sure as hell touched.”
“You pervert.” She swam to the river’s edge and took his warm hand as he helped pull her out of the water. “I see you didn’t bother yelling until I was almost naked.”
Skin like ice despite the sun on her back, she shivered.
His eyes darkened as his gaze slid over her body before he stripped off his T-shirt and pulled it over her head. “I didn’t expect you to jump.”
“You were wrong.” The cotton, warm from his body, slid deliciously over her skin before falling to midthigh. It smelled like him. Like soap and sex and man. She shivered again for an entirely different reason than cold.
“I always am when it comes to you.” He put his big palms on her arms and rubbed briskly. His movements were functional. Economical.
They shouldn’t be sexy.
Or erotic.
But her brain processed them as sex and her breath caught in her throat.
His hands slowed, became a sensual stroke. “You look right in my shirt.”
She blinked and peered up at him. Licked her dry lips.
His fingers curled around her jaw. “You’re going to tell me what’s going on, Cecilia.”
The desire to give in and tell him everything was so strong she needed all her years of willpower to resist. “You can’t save me, Shane.”
Again, it was the wrong thing to say.
Those green eyes flashed, and she recognized the challenge gleaming bright. “We’ll just see about that, won’t we?”
Chapter Twelve
Cecilia didn’t know how to handle dinner, but she didn’t have a good excuse to skip out and she wasn’t going to let Shane intimidate her.
He was just a man.
A man who confused her and made her question everything she knew about herself.
She stared in the mirror. She wore jeans, wanting to blend in with the rest of them. Her white V-neck top was simple enough. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and her makeup was light.
But something was wrong.
She’d fussed and fussed with her hair and makeup, dressed carefully, but there was something different about her. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t seem to capture the remoteness that had been so easy a few days before.
She smoothed the cotton over her stomach—all the cupcakes, cookies, and cakes she’d eaten were taking their toll and her stomach was no longer concave. So-called experts said sugar and flour weren’t good for you, but they couldn’t prove it by her. Cheeks no longer gaunt, she looked healthier than she had in eons.
Unfortunately, it seemed to be affecting her ability to perform her ice queen act.
She sighed, blowing out a hard breath. If she procrastinated any longer she’d be the last to arrive, and that would require her to make an entrance she certainly didn’t want.
She put down her brush, swiped a pale pink lip balm over her lips, and went downstairs.
She was too late.
Everyone turned to look at her, including Shane.
Their eyes locked.
She froze on the threshold and the whole world stilled.
Green eyes flashed with some unnamed emotion, then shuttered closed. He turned back to his plate and the world sped up again.
With her customary dignity, Cecilia greeted everyone and slid gracefully into the chair, appreciating all those years she’d spent studying ballet to work on her poise.
Maddie was the first to speak, smiling broadly. “Gracie tells me you’ve been a godsend.”
Cecilia thought about all the voice mails and e-mails she’d accumulated while she had ignored her life and helped Gracie in her lemon cupcake kitchen. “It’s been a pleasure.”
“She tells me you have a real knack for making pound cake,” Maddie continued, looking at her with interest.
Cecilia laughed and across the table Shane’s expression darkened, but she ignored it. “She’s being kind. I think that’s the only thing safe to give me. Although we did make chocolate chip cookies today.”
Mitch cocked his head to the side. “You two used to be inseparable when we were growing up.”
Next to her, James passed her a plate with hamburgers the size of her head. Daunted, she stared at them for a moment, then put one on her plate. She was on vacation. “It’s been wonderful reconnecting with her.”
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Mitch said, his tone as though he addressed a witness on the stand.
> While Shane glowered at her, Charlotte frowned, looking as though she might cry.
She shrugged. Wedding plans were the last thing on earth she wanted to discuss.
Mitch studied her, and for the first time Cecilia felt like he was really looking at her. It made her uncomfortable. Made her want to fidget, but she resisted.
“You look better than when you first got here,” Mitch said.
All eyes turned to her.
With as much elegance as she could muster, she picked up a napkin and put it on her lap. “I’d been low on sleep.”
“Have you been working too much?” Mitch asked.
Why did she feel like he was probing, searching for something? Her back straightened. “Not particularly.”
“Have you talked to our father?”
“Mitchell,” Charlotte said, her hands clenching tight. “Don’t.”
“What?” Mitch’s voice turned hard. “I can’t ask her simple questions?”
Awkwardness rolled over the table like a thick layer of fog.
Cecilia bit the inside of her cheek. Across the table, she sensed Shane’s attention, heavy on her. It was a compulsion, the desire to look at him, and she didn’t ignore it for long.
Expression guarded, he watched her far too intently to convey indifference.
Heat shot through her and her thighs clenched.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered, then rose.
She tilted her chin and didn’t look away. “As a matter of fact, no, I haven’t talked to him.”
“Why’s that?” Mitch asked.
She broke the hypnotic contact and turned her attention to her brother. She was tired of playing it cool and gave up the ghost. “Because I’m ignoring his calls.”
Mitch’s expression widened in surprise, then he broke out into a grin. “I see. Welcome to the club.”
Some of the heavy weight she’d been carrying around lifted from her chest. She raised a glass to her brother. “Cheers.”
“I don’t think this is a joking matter,” Charlotte said, her tone stern.
“Mom,” Cecilia said quickly, “we weren’t joking. He asked, and I told him the truth.”
“You didn’t tell me you weren’t talking to your father,” her mother said, sounding hurt.
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