Her gaze fell deliberately and as coldly as she could muster, considering she felt ready to explode, onto his face.
“You ignore me for years. Then through no choice of our own, we’re thrown back together and all of a sudden you’re everywhere I turn. Pandora’s Box. Finding Bertha’s dresses. Funding exhibits at the museum. Nearly making love in my office, and now this!”
He poured her a glass of champagne and handed it to her. “Here, have a drink.”
“I don’t want a drink,” she insisted but took the glass anyway to pace around the room.
“What do you want, Athena?” he asked softly.
She turned to face him, placed the glass carefully on the table and flung up her chin.
“I want to know how you could so easily walk away from me that Christmas weekend,” she blurted out.
There! I’ve finally said it.
Years of yearning, of regret pushed open every door.
She saw herself follow him out to the porch on that long-ago Christmas Eve, press a soft kiss on the nape of his neck because the way he was sitting, so dejected, compelled her to touch him in that way. She remembered kneeling in front of him, tilting his chin up to gaze into his eyes. Saw the moisture on his face, which couldn’t have been from the falling snow.
The memories made it hard to breathe, but she forced herself to look into his eyes again.
“Do you remember what I said to you and what you answered that Christmas Eve?” His voice sounded raw, like the words were ripped out of him.
“Of course I remember,” she whispered, tears aching in the back of her throat. “You said, ‘I’m alone,’ and I said, ‘No, Drew, you’re not alone. I’ll always, always be here for you.’ ”
He nodded. “And then I picked you up in my arms. Like this.”
I should stop him.
There was no snow, no icy-cold wind whipping her hair across her face, but the desire felt the same—no, stronger—as he swept her up into his arms, holding her high against his chest.
He walked to the cherry paneling, not the cold stone side of the Clayworth mansion as he had that night, and he lowered her to the floor, pressing her back against the wood.
Now, like then, he dragged his mouth across hers. Gently bit her lips, the side of her throat, while his hands roamed over her body, making her flesh come alive beneath his touch. Her breasts swelled under his palms, and a tingling flow of desire caused her to move instinctively against him.
He slipped his hands inside her robe, like he had under her dress, cupping her buttocks to lift her to him. She’d ached and trembled, and tears filled her eyes. Like now.
“Then I said I love you, Drew. I’ve always loved you. We’ll always be together. You’ll never be alone again,” she gasped, her mouth moving against his.
Now, like that night, Drew stopped, grew rigid, and stepped back from her.
“You were seventeen, the daughter of valued friends. A virgin. I wasn’t. Clayworths, contrary to popular belief, have a code of honor. Honesty in life and work, love of family and friends, and an effort to give something back to mankind. If we had made love that Christmas Eve, I would have betrayed that. You scared the hell out of me, because I didn’t know how I was going to take care of myself, let alone take care of you. We were too young, but I trusted you, told you what I planned to do.”
She closed her eyes, remembering, like she had countless times, his passionate declaration that he would win the Fastnet for his parents. Her frantic cries that his uncles would never allow him to do something so dangerous, and his cool words, “They’ll never know. Only you know, and you’ll never tell.” Her nod of agreement, even as she plotted how to stop him, how to save him.
She opened her eyes, brave enough, as she’d promised to face this.
He stepped closer. “I believe you told my uncles because you thought you were doing the right thing. You cared about me and wanted to keep me safe.”
His simple words, spoken with conviction, penetrated her battered heart. His face blurred behind her veil of tears.
I believe him.
“Give me your hand, Athena.”
Blood pounding in her head, she reached out and twined their fingers together, allowing him to lead her to a cushioned bench along the wall.
He flung himself down beside her, his face open to her instead of the charming mask he showed the rest of the world.
“Athena, this is our second chance. If you’re willing, let’s see where we go from here.” His eyes clouded to a slate blue. “No pressure, I promise.” Drew shifted closer, and his eyes softened to warm cornflower. “Will you give us another chance?”
She swallowed, trying to rid herself of the urge to break openly into sobs of joy. But if they had any future, there was one more hurdle to cross. She flung up her chin, needing to vanquish the last lie. They had come too far to shy away from the truth now.
“Dad won’t tell me what happened at Clayworth’s. Why he resigned. Why you let him. Will you tell me?”
He narrowed his eyes so she couldn’t read them. “We all agreed not to discuss it. Including your father. I have to honor that.”
Fear and doubt made her weak.
I won’t cry. I won’t cry.
But she failed. Large, hot tears totally blurred Drew’s face mere inches away.
“Christ, Athena, please don’t cry. Tell me what you want me to do. How I can help you understand.”
His raw voice touched a place deep inside her, vulnerable and waiting. It was enough for now. “Kiss me,” she ordered.
He crushed her to him, and she wrapped her arms around him. He kissed her cheeks, her eyelids. He opened her mouth for long, slow kisses and his hands were all over, feeling her through the terrycloth robe. Scorching current ran through her and into him. She pressed her breasts against him, wanting to be closer, to feel every part of him.
They went down together onto the soft bench. He pushed at the robe, freeing her. With her hands trembling, she hadn’t known how hard it would be to jerk off his shirt and push down his swimming trunks.
She hadn’t seen him naked since she was seventeen. He looked more gorgeous than she remembered, and she felt beautiful as his eyes roamed over her.
She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know the words. Something important, more intimate than mere sex was happening to her, and she didn’t know how to tell him.
He scooped her up and carried her toward the owner’s cabin. She laughed to hide her feelings and pressed a kiss on the nape of his neck where his hair grew in a vee.
He shuddered. “I loved when you did that.”
Naked, they fell onto the wall-to-wall bed, rolling over, kissing and rubbing against each other.
He held her down, and eyes wide, she stared at him, heat rising between them.
“I want to kiss every inch of you,” he whispered. He pressed one slow, gentle kiss on her bruised shoulder. Moved lower to rub his lips against the fading bruise on her wrist and place a long, lingering kiss on her thigh.
She tried to stay still, but she couldn’t stop shaking. With his lips brushing the inside of her thigh, she shifted under his mouth. “Drew, kiss me,” she breathed.
He took her head in both his hands and kissed her, open-mouth, slow kisses, and she pressed against him, wanting him on top of her, wanting him inside her.
All at once she heard bells ringing.
“Christ,” he groaned, burying his face in her neck. “It’s the damn alarms.”
“They’re five miles away. We have time.” She kissed his cheekbones, his hair, his eyes, not wanting to waste a precious moment of this feeling.
“Athena, I’m going to explode in a few more minutes,” he groaned. “I want to make this last longer for you.”