Chapter 6
By the time he got to the school, the PR had done her job and the bloodsuckers who had been milling around hoping to get their story had been dispersed.
He had called ahead to let her know he was coming.
Turning into the lot, he parked beneath a blossoming Dogwood tree and waited for her to come out.
He saw her the instant she stepped from the building.
From his vantage point, he could see her clearly.
She was wearing a cherry red pants suit with an inside blouse that looked like charcoal gray.
Her hair was in its neat twists at the nape of her neck, and she was surrounded by children.
He felt his heart twisting as he noticed the interaction.
She was going to make a damn good mother, he thought proudly, ignoring the voice that told him he was not cut out to be a father.
The children showed great reluctance to leave her side, even when their rides came along.
Unlike the women in his society, she did not seem to be impatient to leave and was actually listening as they chattered on.
Suddenly, she looked over and saw the vehicle.
Giving him a wave, she crouched down to talk to a little towheaded boy of about four.
Dean saw the kid knuckling away tears and noticed the way she touched him reassuringly.
Whatever she said to him had him taking a three-sixty-degree turn and flying into her arms for a hug.
Even though she knew he was waiting, she was not hurrying the children along, but made sure she spoke to each one of them before making her way towards the vehicle.
When she continued on to her car, he shoved the passenger side door open.
"Get in. We'll swing by and collect your car later."
She climbed in and secured her seatbelt, giving him a cursory glance.
"What was wrong with the kid?" Pushing the start button, he made his careful way out of the parking lot.
"Oh, Benjamin." Settling back against the supple leather of the seat, she stretched her legs out and sighed. It had been quite a day. "His parents are going through a rough patch. His mother has cancer."
"Oh. That's rough. Is it bad?"
"Stage four. He's smart enough to realize that she's dying. She's pretty young too, only thirty-four. The dad travels a lot. He's a record producer and is hardly ever home."
His hands tightened on the wheel. "Some people should never have children."
She glanced at his set profile and stifled a sigh.
"There are no perfect parents."
"No, but some are more capable than others." He turned off into the private road that led to the opening for the cabin that was going to be built. Work had already started and the foundation was being dug.
Turning off the engine, he kept his hands on the wheel and stared straight ahead.
"They're calling for rain," she ventured. He hadn't kissed her as usual and she missed that.
His answer was a mere grunt as he continued to stare ahead of him.
After a few seconds of charged silence, he turned to look at her and felt the familiar wild yearning. Would he ever get used to it, he wondered.
"You had some unwelcome visitors, and I apologize for putting you through it," he began stiffly.
"It was not so bad." Her dimples peeked out as she smiled and had him gaping at her.
"Not so bad? They were swarming the place as I was told, and that article-" He looked away and felt shame coursing through him.
For the first time in his life, he regretted his former lifestyle.
He had found himself in women's beds and unable to recall their names come morning.
He was not a drug user, not the hard core stuff, but he had dabbled.
He had been with two women at the same time and taken married women to bed.
He didn't deserve someone like Catherine, and he had no idea why he thought he did.
He was going to taint her with his lurid past. She was going to come to hate him for it and he could not bear it. It was best to end things now.
His father had said the same thing.
"It's best if you come to grips with who you are and stop pretending to be someone else.
That girl will never fit into your lifestyle.
You think you can be faithful to her, be the husband she wants you to be, but you're mistaken.
The Collier men have always been unfaithful and that will never change.
Your mother and I understand each other.
We might see other people, but at the end of it we always stick with each other. "
He forced himself to look back at her. The thought of letting her go created a hole inside him that was so deep, he felt as if he was drowning. But he needed to be unselfish. For the first time in his life, he wanted to do the right thing.
He should let her go.
"Everything they said in that piece is true.
I was involved with a princess in Spain, and it went sideways.
" He continued grimly, forcing himself to relive the whole sordid affair.
"It was just a fling to me, but she wanted more.
" His hands clenched into fists. "She was beautiful and I thought we were just having fun.
" He closed his eyes briefly. "She had been with other men, not that it was any excuse, but I wasn't the only one.
She had this idea in her head that I would marry her.
I made it plain to her that I wasn't interested in anything long term. "
"When I tried to break it off-" He turned and stared out the glass, the pain etched on his face.
"She tried to take her own life. I was lucky to get away with mine.
My parents and hers cleared it all up, but it was still leaked.
" He rubbed his palms over his thighs. "There have been others, but I don't want to get into it right now.
" He turned to face her then, expecting to see the look of derision and scorn.
Instead, she was gazing at him with a serene expression on her beautiful face.
"I suppose you expect me to say goodbye now?"
"Yes," he answered gruffly.
"Would you like the ring back?"
She wanted out. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach was spreading. He couldn't blame her one bit.
"No." He had to swallow the lump that had lodged deep in his throat. "You can keep it. It's yours, and anything else you want from me. I-" He could not continue.
Emotions stormed inside her as she gazed at a face that had become so precious to her in such a short space of time. "What about the flowers?"
"What?" He stared at her askance. "What flowers?"
"The ones you send me almost on a daily basis and the stuffed toys and earrings."
"You get to keep all of them."
"All I want is you." Taking his large hands in hers, she linked their fingers. "You don't think I know all about what you did in the past? Do you honestly expect me to leave?"
"You-" His fingers gripped hers until he was rubbing at the delicate bones. "You're staying?"
"Unless you've changed your mind about wanting to marry me." Her smile came again and was like the sun bursting through the storm cloud. He could hear birds chirping and the scent of spring filled his nostrils. His heart was swelling inside his chest.
Tugging on her hands, he hauled her into his arms and simply buried his head between her neck and shoulder and breathed her in. Her scent was an exotic combination of crayons and her subtle perfume.
"I thought for certain that you would change your mind. That the whole press business and the article would turn you off." He eased back so he could see her face. "I don't deserve you. I was prepared to do the right thing and let you go."
Lifting her hands, she used them to frame his face, her eyes eloquent.
"You made a promise to me, and I expect you to honor it.
I do not have a sterling past as you well know, therefore I am not in a position to judge you.
However," her expression turned steely, "if you're ever unfaithful to me, I'll forget that I attend church and teach Sunday school. Am I clear?"
It was so unlike her gentle demeanor that at first he just stared at her without commenting. When she continued to gaze at him steadily, he smiled and then burst out laughing.
"Yes, ma'am." His voice was solemnly tender. "You're precious, do you know that?"
She shivered at the look on his handsome face and was happy that she had managed to change his mood.
"And you're beautiful and wonderful. You just don't realize it yet."
With a fevered groan, he seized her lips in a kiss that had them both melting.
*****
"I should go," he whispered hoarsely, reluctantly lifting his mouth from hers.
"Not just yet." She snuggled closer, fingers brushing over his bare chest. They had stopped to collect her car and come back to her place, and had Galahad jumping through hoops when they took him for a long walk.
Afterwards, she had ordered Chinese and was enjoying making out on her sofa. But it was getting hot and heavy and he knew he could not stand much more of it.
"Darling," he said, clamping a hand over her roving fingers firmly. "I want you," he told her bluntly. "I want to sink myself so deep inside you, I would find it difficult getting back out. So, unless you want me to take you right here and now, I'm going to have to leave."
He had made a promise to her to wait until the wedding night but was wondering what on earth had possessed him to make such an insane promise.
But he knew what it was. His decadent past had prompted his eagerness, or rather his willingness to make this different.
He had used and discarded women in his life; he wanted to do the right thing. He owed her that much.
"All right." Shoving the disappointment aside, she started to rise, but he held her back.