Touching Heaven

by Marie Higgins

  He struggled to blink open his eyes. Had he heard someone inside the doc’s office?

  Pressing his ear against the door, he held his breath and listened. Inside the small building, the floor creaked and feet shuffled. Then came the clink of bottles hitting each other.

  Someone was indeed inside. A prowler? It’d have to be. No lamps had been lit. Yet, how did the prowler get in if Peter couldn’t?

  It didn’t matter. He must do something—anything. Doc was his friend and Peter had to protect his possessions. He stood, swayed, and pressed his hands against the door to steady himself. He grumbled a curse. What good was he going to be in this inebriated state?

  Suddenly, the door swung open. He fell into the office, holding out his hands to block the fall, but his noggin still connected with the ground in a resounding thud. He groaned and held his head, afraid it might break open. He rolled onto his back, the motion turning his stomach.

  A woman’s soft gasp came from the intruder. Within seconds, a warm hand covered his.

  “Are you all right?” she whispered.

  It’s her! My night angel. He’d dreamed of her voice many times since that night.

  He removed his hands from his face and peeled his eyes open. Through the shadows the delicate curve of her face appeared. Yes, it was her. He caressed the short strands of silky hair clinging to her cheeks.

  Between the shadows, the intense throb in his head, and his blurred vision, he couldn’t quite make out what her face looked like. It didn’t matter. The memory of her kiss, and the softness he’d held that night so long ago was enough to ignite desire inside him. He narrowed his eyes. Why was she dressed in men’s dark clothes? Did she try to hide from something or someone?

  She grasped his hand and moved it away from her hair. He twined his fingers with hers, not wanting to let her go this time.

  “Are you all right?” she asked again, her voice still low.

  “I am now.”

  “Can you stand?”

  He shook his head, gazing into her shadowed eyes. “The room’s spinnin’.”

  “Let’s get you over to the bed, then.”

  He grinned. “Yes. The bed.”

  She helped him sit, and he swung his arm around her shoulder. Using the doorknob for leverage, he lifted himself, trying not to lean on her too much for fear he’d knock her over before reaching his destination. She was as he remembered. The right size, the right amount of softness. Perfect. A familiar scent wafted around her he couldn’t quite pinpoint. His foggy brain didn’t want to work very well tonight.

  She wrapped one arm around him and placed the other on his stomach. He squeezed his lips together to stop a pleasurable sigh from slipping past. Her nearness as she walked him to the bed brought such happiness it was torture keeping it in.

  When his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he stumbled, falling on his side, but he made certain she came with him by gripping his fingers around hers. She rolled to her back and struggled to sit. He leaned over her, trapping her beneath him. Her palms pressed against his chest, her rapid breaths fanned his face.

  “Where’ve ya been, my little angel?” He took a lock of her short hair by her ear and rubbed it between his fingers and thumb.

  “Wha—what do you mean?”

  “I’ve been lookin’ for you, darlin’.”

  “For me? Why?”

  “Ever since that night here, in this very office. Ever since I kissed your sweet lips and held you so personal, I haven’t been able to think of anythin’ else.”

  “I—I think you have me confused with somebody else.”

  “No. You were the one here in this room while Doc was takin’ care of me.” He stroked her cheek. “I want to get to know ya better.”

  She shook her head and pushed the heels of her hands against his chest. “Please. Let me up.”

  He ignored her plea. Instead, he buried his face in her neck and breathed in her sweet scent. She smelled different this time. More feminine. Lilacs. Yes, that was the scent, but why so familiar? “I can’t let ya go, my angel. Ya’ve been on my mind constantly, and now that ye’re here, I want to be certain ye’re not just a dream.”

  He touched his lips to her neck, and she sucked in her breath. His hand skimmed up her arm in soft strokes. A soft whimper escaped her throat and brought a smile to his lips.

  “I love hearin’ ya make that sound.”

  “Peter...please.”

  He kissed just beneath her ear and she shivered. Another sound of pleasure broke loose from her throat. He shifted his body, covering her more. Looking at her from this position spread fingers of joy through him. Her eyes closed, her lips parted in a half smile.

  Suddenly, another image appeared in his mind. Cecilia Ashby. A different kind of happiness flowed through him, but as soon as it came, it was doused with sadness. Too bad she couldn’t be the woman in his arms right now. “Do you know how much I want you?” he asked.

  Her eyes fluttered open. Even in the shadows he could read the passion. With a groan, he bent and covered her mouth with his. Her lips felt exactly as he remembered. Soft. Compliant. Passionate. He nipped at her bottom lip until her mouth opened, and then he deepened the kiss. Her sighs melted into his before her arms wound around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

  Ah, this was Heaven.

  Breaking the kiss, he traveled his mouth over her jaw, down her neck. Her hands moved between their bodies and pushed against his chest.

  “No, Peter. We can’t do this. I’m not who you think I am.”

  He raised his head and searched her face. What could she have possibly meant by that?

  CECILIA’S HEART HAMMERED so fast she couldn’t breathe. It had nothing to do with the muscular man lying half on top of her. Well, maybe it did. It could also be that she really wanted to kiss him passionately. But it didn’t matter. This wasn’t proper. None of it. He thought her to be a painted lady. She didn’t want him thinking that way about her, yet she wasn’t about to tell him her true identity, either.

  She should remember how he’d upset her. He’d played her for a fool and coerced her into being his business partner. Although she didn’t want to admit it now, being his business partner wasn’t a bad idea, especially if she wanted to work as a doctor, Peter could run the plantation.

  “Then who are you?” he asked.

  “I’m not a whore.”

  He leaned on his elbow, still looming over her. A smile touched his mouth still swollen from their passionate kiss. He stroked her cheek. “That’s even better.”

  “No, because I don’t...I don’t...”

  “Don’t what?”

  “I don’t do those things.”

  He leaned over and kissed her nose. “You don’t? Are ya sayin’ ya’ve never been touched?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  He kissed her cheek then raised himself up, his eyes wide. “Never?”

  “Never.” She paused. “Now do you understand why I can’t let you do this?”

  He stared at her for the longest time until, finally, his face relaxed, and he smiled. “Yes, I understand. But tell me, how can I get to know you better? You’re a mystery to me, a mystery that has me intrigued.”

  “You can’t get to know me better.”

  “Why?”

  She shook her head and struggled to pull away. “Please don’t ask questions. Just let me up.”

  He leaned over her again and covered her mouth with his. This time, he made the kiss gentle, and not as wild. She enjoyed it just as much, but she couldn’t. As much as she wanted him to run the plantation, she couldn’t have him discovering her secret. And she definitely couldn’t have him around that often because he’d make sure Hank was thrown in jail. Her brother and her secret had to be protected!

  Turning her face, she broke the kiss. “Peter, please.”

  From outside, someone walked by her office with a bright lantern. The glow shone through the window and briefly grazed her face.
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br />   The second the light touched her, recognition finally struck the intoxicated man, and he gasped, his gaze widening.

  “Oh, good Heavens!” He jumped off her like she was hot coal. He swayed against the nearby table but righted himself by grasping the sides. “Cecilia?”

  She heaved a sigh, her heart thumping erratically against her ribs. The truth was out, finally. At least the truth she wanted him to know. She smoothed her hand down her shirt and rose. Taking controlled breaths, she nodded.

  “But how...”

  “I tried to tell you I wasn’t who you’d thought.”

  “But you’re the woman I kissed while being cared for right here in this very room.”

  She cursed the awkward moment and balled her moist palms against her trousers.

  “And why,” —he motioned his hand over her length— “are you dressed like this?”

  She swallowed the thick cotton dryness that had lodged in her throat. “I—I—” She cleared her throat. “Samuel isn’t feeling well, so I came to get Doctor Copeland.”

  “But the doc’s gone. Yet, you’re roaming around in here even when the office was locked.”

  “Yes, well...there’s a good explanation.”

  He cocked his head. “Can I ask you something? Something personal?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “Are you seeing Doc Copeland? Are you in love with him?”

  She widened her eyes then bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. At least he hadn’t figured her out. “No, I’m not seeing Doctor Copeland.”

  “Then why were you here the other night? You wore bedclothes.”

  Her heart thumped against her ribs in a quicker rhythm, but she tried to keep a calm expression. She really hated lying to him, but she must do so. It wasn’t time to tell him her secret. “Doctor Copeland is...is...” She swallowed hard. “He’s my uncle.”

  He cussed again and turned sharply, running his fingers through his hair.

  She squared her shoulders. Passion’s heat quickly left her, leaving only emptiness, and loneliness, once again. Her body screamed for love, but her mind argued. When would it be her turn to enjoy pleasure to the fullest?

  Mentally, she shook her head. It could never be. Not with Peter. Her chest tightened. Especially not since he would eventually discover her brother had robbed him and may have stabbed him. She still didn’t know what to believe. She didn’t know why he wanted half of the plantation, either.

  Oh, what a mess.

  He sat on the corner of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Miss Ashby. I didn’t mean...I didn’t know—”

  “I know you didn’t.” She released a heavy sigh. “I forgive you for kissing me like that, but you have to understand it can’t happen again.”

  He reached out and placed his large hand over hers, and she jumped. “Why?”

  She shook her head, sadness settling around her heart. “What do you mean why? Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Not to me.”

  “Peter, I’m not the kind of woman you are used to, and I’m never going to be.”

  “What if I don’t want that kind of woman any longer?”

  Her heart did a flip-flop, and she hitched a breath. Dare she believe? No. He was a gambler, and gambling men never gambled on love.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want to get involved with a swindler, and after that bargain you made me enter with you, I have added you to the top of my list of men I cannot abide.”

  She stepped back and broke the contact. When he reached for her again, she turned and ran out of the office, afraid if she stayed, she’d let his kisses change her mind.

  Chapter Eleven

  “...And these are your new quarters, Mr. Grayson.” Cecilia swept her hand, motioning inside the cottage, trying to keep a calm reserve although his nearness made her insides shake. “This is where our last overseer stayed. It’s closer to the main house and has more luxuries than the bunkhouses by the mill.”

  Peter stepped inside, a scowl marring his handsome face. His gaze darted from the sofa, to the wood burning stove, to the rocking chair. When he finally looked back at her, his eyebrow lifted.

  “I had assumed I’d be staying in the main house with you.”

  She folded her arms. “You assumed wrong, Mr. Grayson. It wouldn’t be proper. If my brother were here, then maybe you would be able to stay in the house, but as it is, you must reside in these quarters.”

  Peter walked in farther. The amble in his step reminded her of how she enjoyed watching him move. She hardened her jaw. Why couldn’t she stop thinking of him that way? He was a swindler, a cheat...a thief. He’d strolled into her life and charmed her then turned and stabbed her in the back and played with her emotions. He’d taken advantage of her dire situation only to improve his.

  He stopped at the window facing the main house and leaned his shoulder against the frame. She ran her gaze over the brown trousers he worked in, up his slim hips, to his broad back. The sleeves of his tan cotton shirt had been rolled up to just below his elbows, putting his muscles on display. She cursed his masculinity.

  He looked over his shoulder at her, his lips still pulled tight. “What if I refuse to stay here?”

  Her heart beat against her ribs, panic settling in her stomach. “I will not have my reputation ruined just because of your pride.”

  His eyes widened. “My pride?”

  “Yes. From the way you and Mr. Sterling talked yesterday, I gathered you were born and raised a gentleman but had fallen on misfortune.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sorry if your pride must take a beating, but I’ll not allow you into my home. It’s not proper, and you know it.”

  He pulled away from the window and came toward her. She held her body stiff, and at the same time tried to control her irregular breathing. When he stood in front of her, she swallowed hard.

  “You are correct, darlin’. I was born and raised a gentleman. My family was one of the wealthiest families in Montana, as was my granddaddy here in Texas before the war. Even though I was raised in Montana with wealthy parents, doesn’t mean I haven’t seen my share of heartache and despair. So darlin’, don’t talk to me about my pride. I’m a gambler by choice because I’m tired of everyone else telling me how I should live. It’s about time I took control and made my own decisions and my own mistakes.”

  Although he held a stony expression, his eyes spoke of a deep pain. She remembered hearing bits and pieces about his life while he was her patient with a high fever. Her heart twisted, but she refused to allow the emotion to take over her feelings and change her mind.

  She nodded. “Then you should know how I’m trying not to allow people to make my decisions. I will do anything to keep my home.”

  “Has this been the only home you’ve known?”

  She frowned. “No. My family came from Virginia after the war.”

  “Were you forced to leave your house?”

  “Well...no. Not under those circumstances, but—”

  “Then you don’t know how I feel at all, because I was with my granddaddy when the carpetbaggers came and informed him he had to leave. It tore me apart to see the man I looked up to and loved so much reduced to such a weakling because there wasn’t anything he could do about it. When he lost his home, so did I.”

  She lifted her chin a notch higher. She wouldn’t cower. “Nonetheless, I’ll not lose my home. I’ve worked very hard, whether you want to believe it or not. My brother and I are going through some hard times right now, but soon—”

  “Where is your brother?” He arched an eyebrow. “Why isn’t Hank here helping you?”

  Her blood turned to ice. He had never mentioned her brother by name before. He knew. Of course he did. In this little town, everybody knew everyone’s business.

  She lowered her gaze and turned from him, but he grasped her shoulders, swinging her back around. With his finger, he lifted her chin until she met his stare. She expected him to be mad
, to see fire shooting out of his eyes, but she didn’t. His kind eyes stared at her as if they could see right through to her soul.

  “Did your brother skip out of his responsibilities because you couldn’t pay taxes?”

  She blinked, hoping to stop the tears building in her eyes. “I believe so.”

  “Cecilia, you can’t go through this alone. You need me.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t understand—”

  “Then help me understand.”

  The heat from his touch burned the skin on her face, and she turned away. She couldn’t allow him to sway her. “Let me go, Mr. Grayson.”

  “Cecilia—”

  “And please don’t be so informal with my name. You may address me as Miss Ashby.”

  She pulled from his grip and moved toward the door. “As my overseer, you may take meals with me, but since I only have a few servants, I will invite them to do the same.” She glanced over her shoulder. His mouth was pursed, his body straight. The stubborn man wouldn’t budge. Neither would she. “Good day, Mr. Grayson.”

  Hurrying from the cottage, she made her way to the house. She hoped he didn’t follow, and when she realized he hadn’t, her heart wrenched with sorrow. Why couldn’t he be the charming man she’d met the night of the storm? And why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

  Yesterday, when she’d taken the money to Mr. Schooner, he accepted the payment with wide eyes. He wasn’t a man known to gossip, so their conversation didn’t last long. As she traveled through town, everyone watched her. It’d been a while since the mistress of Belle Grove had made an appearance, and she expected the curious stares, but she kept her back straight and chin held high, just as she’d been taught to do by her mother.

  Heath Sterling had watched her also, as he stood on the boardwalk by the hotel he owned. His mouth pulled into a frown, his forehead creased. She’d hurt his ego, but she refused to accept his offer of marriage. Not on those terms. She didn’t love him and never would.