Chapter 32
32
Zara rolled out of bed and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was barely five in the morning, an hour before sunrise. She looked out the window and saw a thick fog covering the island. She wondered how long it would last. Shaking her head, she figured it would be that kind of day.
In the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. Not surprising, she was a mess with her red swollen eyes and puffy cheeks after spending most of yesterday crying her eyes out. Saint hadn’t called and he hadn’t returned, so she could only assume he had spent the day with Mia.
For all she knew, he might have taken Mia boating instead of her. She hadn’t called or texted him for fear that assumption might have been true. If so, she only had herself to blame.
Washing her face with cold water, she swore she would never cry over a man again. But wasn’t that what she’d vowed after her breakup with Maurice? That was different. Maurice had found his way into the arms of another woman without Zara sending him there. If Saint was with another woman, it was all her fault for not trusting him.
She should have taken him at his word when he’d said he had closed the chapter on Mia years ago. That hadn’t been good enough for Zara. Her heart had been on the line, and she’d had to make sure. Why hadn’t she trusted him and believed that he knew his true feelings?
But then, what if once he saw Mia, all the anger, disappointment and hurt she’d caused evaporated, and he’d been willing to give her another chance? What if Mia, along with her parents and his, had broken down his defenses and...?
Zara shook her head. The one thing she did know was that Saint was his own man who made his own decisions. If he said things were over between him and Mia, then they were over, and she should have believed him. Still, she couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t contacted her. She released a deep breath thinking it could very well be that he was upset with her for not believing that he knew his own mind. If that was the case, then his anger was warranted.
Not wanting to go back to bed, she decided to make a cup of coffee and go out on the porch, sit in her patio chair and await the sunrise. Hopefully, today would be better than yesterday.
After changing into a pair of shorts and a midriff top, she headed to the kitchen. The fog was at ground level. She just hoped she would be able to see the sunrise through it.
With her coffee cup in hand, she stepped out on the porch and settled in the patio chair. All around her, she could hear the pelicans, hissing and squawking. She figured they were probably angry at the thickness of the fog that prevented them from hunting for their morning meal.
Her thoughts shifted to Saint yet again. If she didn’t hear from him by ten o’clock, she decided she’d drive over to his place. She wanted to believe he was there alone and the only reason she hadn’t heard from him was because he was mad at her.
She had taken a few sips of her coffee when she heard footsteps on the pier. From the way her heart began pounding and the gush of feminine need that stirred to life in her midsection, she knew there was only one man who could elicit such a reaction from her. Saint. She couldn’t make out anyone through the thick fog, but she stared intently in the direction of the pier, barely able to make it out.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the fog. Although she still couldn’t make out his face, every pore of her body recognized him. Goose bumps of awareness formed on her skin. She placed her coffee cup on the table next to her chair as her breath caught in a surge of yearning and need.
She stood, so sure it was him that she moved toward the steps. Before she reached the first step, he appeared out of the fog. The moment he stepped onto the porch she threw herself into his arms.
Saint tightened his arms around Zara as he held her. He inhaled her scent, the aroma of the woman he loved. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t realize you were out here on the porch. You can barely see anything through this fog.”
“You didn’t scare me,” she said, her gaze fixed on his face. “I knew it was you. I felt your presence. The fog is so thick I’m surprised you drove over here in it.”
“I had to because there’s something I have to tell you. It’s something that I should have told you weeks ago.”
“What?”
“I love you, Zara. I love you so damn much.”
Zara burst into tears, and he drew her back into his arms. He figured his declaration of love might elicit some reaction, but he honestly hadn’t expected this. “Oh, baby, I didn’t tell you that to make you cry. I know that you don’t love me, and I understand and accept that. And I—”
She pushed herself from his arms and stared into his face as more tears shone in her eyes. “That’s not why I’m crying, Saint.”
Using the tips of his fingers to gently wipe away her tears, he asked, “Then why are you crying?”
“Because I love you, too.”
Saint went still as hope rose up in his chest. He stared back at her. “What did you say?”
After swiping at more tears, she repeated her words. “I said the reason I’m crying is because I love you, and I wasn’t sure you could love me back.”
He drew her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. “Of course I could love you back. I’ve known that I’ve loved you for a while. The reason I didn’t tell you was because I didn’t think you could love me back after what Maurice had done to you.”
“And that’s what I thought about with you. After Mia’s double rejection that you couldn’t love me.”
“Then why did you suggest I go meet up with her yesterday? You of all people knew how I felt about ever getting back together with her.”
“Yes, but hearing she was in town sent my mind into a tailspin. I figured the only reason she would come to Catalina Cove after all this time is because she realized she’d made a mistake and wanted you back. I knew I loved you. That’s what I had to tell you yesterday. But once I heard she was here, I panicked. If you recall, Maurice betrayed me with a woman from his past.”
Saint had forgotten about that. “I could never betray you with Mia or any woman, Zara. I don’t want Mia back and told her that very thing. There’s no doubt in my mind that I made my feelings very clear.”
She slid her gaze from his to look at the bay. “You didn’t contact me at all yesterday. So I thought...”
“That she and I were somewhere together?”
She turned her eyes back to him. “I did at first, but then a part of me—the one that trusts you—refused to believe that. After I thought things over, I woke up this morning and figured the only reason you hadn’t called or come back yesterday was because you were upset with me.”
“Yes, I was. After talking to Mia, I went boating on the bayou alone. I needed time to think. That’s when I decided to come here and tell you in person that I love you and to plead my case for why we should stay together, and how we can retain our relationship after you return to Boston. The reason I didn’t come here last night was because I didn’t get home from the bayou until late.”
She nodded. “Had I not heard from you by ten this morning, I would have shown up at your house to tell you that I love you and plead my case that we continue what we have.”
He gently brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. “Really?”
She smiled up at him. “Yes. Really. It’s too good to give up.”
Saint smiled back at her. “Then I think we need to go inside to talk about these pleas of ours some more.”
Draping his arm over her shoulder, he led her into the cottage.
“Now about those pleas,” Saint said, placing Zara on the bed after stripping off her clothes and she had removed his.
It hadn’t been much for him to take off hers. However, since he’d worn a pair of jeans and buttoned shirt, it had taken her a little longer to undress him. A rush of desire clawed at her insides with every button she’d undone. Then, when his shirt was off, she had taken the time to reacquaint her hands with his broad chest and sculpted abdomen in between his potent kisses.
When she’d removed his jeans and boxers, they’d dropped to his ankles in a whoosh . But he’d refused to let her toy with his libido any longer. She hadn’t protested when he had swooped her into his arms to carry her over to the bed.
The expression in the depths of his eyes sent a throb of desire rushing through her veins. When he moved into place above her, knowing what she was about to get, her body arched up to meet the downward thrust she knew he was about to make. Sexual need curled inside her stomach and then an intense mating between them began.
She moaned as her body was bombarded with sensation after sensation. The feel and smell of him sent her body into a daze of pleasure that only he could deliver. When he leaned in and captured her mouth, she dug her heels into his back and continued to arch in to meet his thrusts. His tongue stroked the inside of her mouth with the same intensity and rhythm that his manhood stroked between her legs.
When he threw back his head to groan out her name, simultaneously she screamed out his. She felt the spasmodic tightening of both their bodies, and she clung to him. Now that she knew he loved her, she didn’t intend to ever let him go.
A smiling Margie opened the door to Levi. After their decision to become a couple last night, she had invited him to Sunday morning breakfast. Afterward, they would take the river taxi to New Orleans, where they would spend the entire day.
“Good morning, Levi,” she said, moving aside for him to enter the house.
“Good morning, Margie,” he said, returning her smile. “You look pretty this morning.”
“Thanks.” She closed the door behind him.
“And these are for you,” he said, handing her a bouquet of fresh-cut flowers in a clear vase. “They came from my garden.”
Her smile widened. “And you picked them this morning just for me?”
“Of course I did.”
She placed the flowers on the table in the foyer and leaned in to brush a kiss across his lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He looked around. Although he saw Butterball, he didn’t see Mr. Chelsey. “Your dad has left for church already?”
“Yes. They serve breakfast to those who attend Sunday school.” She grinned. “He says he likes my breakfast, but the ladies at church were serving shrimp and grits today and he refused to miss out on that. Pastor Dawkins picked him up moments ago.”
“We’re here alone?”
She grinned. “Not really. There’s Butterball.”
Levi glanced over at the feline and said, “Close your eyes, cat.” He took Margie in his arms.
She had enjoyed his kisses last night and was definitely loving the one he was giving her now. They had agreed to take things slow, but each time he kissed her she wanted to tell him to speed things up a little. To speed things up a lot.
When he released her mouth, she dropped her head to his chest to draw in a deep breath. When she raised her head, she looked into dark eyes that had the ability to stir a degree of passion in her she hadn’t thought she would ever feel again. She said, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I like your kisses. Maybe too much.”
He grinned. “And I love giving you my kisses, and for me there will never be too much.”
She laughed, loving the feel of his hands at her waist. “I might as well tell you that I told Dad about our decision this morning.”
Levi raised a brow. “You did?”
“Yes. He said it’s about time because he could tell we liked each other. Dad thinks you’re a fine young man.”
“Young man?” Levi shook his head. “My young days are over, trust me.”
“Then I will bring them back because I refuse to feel old, Levi. At least, not too old.”
“That sounds good to me.”
“Dad also said he expects us to go to church with him sometime.” She paused a moment and then said, “He told me why he thought you stopped going. After your wife died some of the single ladies in church became overeager and wouldn’t give you a moment’s rest.”
He shook his head. “They became plum ridiculous.”
“Well, you won’t have that problem anymore because I’m your girl.”
His hands tightened at her waist. “Yes, you are definitely my girl, and I would love for us to attend church services with your dad sometime.”
“Good. He’ll like that. Oh, I almost forgot,” Margie said in an excited voice. “Bellamy called this morning. Catalina Cove Hospital made her an offer and she accepted it.”
Levi’s face lit up. “That’s great news. That means she’ll be moving here.”
“Yes, in September. Dad invited her to stay here but she wants her own place. She’ll be coming back in a few weeks to check out places. She wants to rent for a while before she buys anything.”
“That’s a smart idea.” Then he said, “I have something to ask you.”
“What?”
“I’m invited to a wedding in a few weeks in Phoenix. Will you attend with me as my plus-one?”
“I would love to. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Thanks for agreeing to go with me.”
“Come on,” she said, taking his hand and leading him toward the kitchen. “You can tell me more about it over breakfast.”
After making love a few more times, Saint and Zara had gone swimming. The fog had lifted and after an hour or so of frolicking in the bay, they pulled the chaise lounges together and were wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing while intermittently sharing words of love.
“I love you, Zara.”
“And I love you, Saint.”
Saint doubted he would ever tire of hearing Zara say those words. In between their lovemaking they had agreed that when she returned to Boston, whatever it took, they would remain together. She would come here to visit more frequently, and he would go see her in Boston. They had no problem engaging in a long-distance relationship.
She’d told him about her plans for the building she’d bought and asked for his suggestions on a few things. They figured it would be another week or so before they heard anything about the legitimacy of the treasure map. He had a two-day business trip to New York and would be leaving on Tuesday. He invited her to come with him and she accepted. She would use that time to check on the boutique she had there. He in turn would go with her to Boston for a few days when she left next week. It had been years since he’d visited the city and he wanted to see the place she considered as home.
He’d given her more details of his conversation with Mia and how he honestly couldn’t believe she thought he had been pining for her, just waiting for her to return to him. What was even more disheartening was that their parents had undoubtedly assumed the same thing, even after he’d told them countless times that he had moved on. Like he’d told Zara, in a way he was glad she’d suggested he go see her. Not for closure but for affirmation.
“Sierra called while you were out here inflating the beach ball. She and Vaughn invited us to dinner. You want to go? I think they miss Teryn already.”
Saint knew from a conversation he’d had with Vaughn a couple of days ago that Teryn had left for a two-week camping trip with their church. “I’d rather stay and make love to you, but I guess we have to eat sometime.”
“Yes, food is important,” she said, smiling over at him. “We need to keep our strength.”
“And replenish our energy,” he said, leaning in and capturing her mouth again.
“This is for you, Saint.”
He turned away from the refrigerator where he’d just grabbed a beer. Zara was standing in the middle of the kitchen with the painting she’d been working on in front of her. It was the one he’d yet to see. For some reason, she’d kept it covered whenever he was there. It was covered now.
Placing the beer bottle on the kitchen counter, he moved toward her. “Did you paint another vacant building, sweetheart?” The painting she’d given him weeks ago was hanging on the wall in his bedroom. Whenever he saw it, he was reminded of her and all the talented gifts she possessed.
She grinned. “Not quite.”
“Then what did you paint this time?”
“It’s not what but who ,” she said, uncovering the painting and holding it up for him to see.
Saint stared at it. Zara had painted him standing on the pier with his business jacket slung over his shoulder and an intense look on his face. His features were clearly defined, down to his eye color. The blue ocean water surrounding the pier was a perfect backdrop. Even the sky ahead was a captivating blue with a pelican flying about.
“Well,” she hedged. “What do you think?”
He shifted his gaze from the painting to her. “You were able to paint this without me posing for it?” he asked, amazed.
“Yes. I painted it from memory of my sexiest image of you. I doubt that you know what it would do to me each time I saw you walking across the pier with your jacket slung over your shoulder. I got hot and bothered each and every time, because I knew you were coming here for me and what I would get when you got here.”
Her words spiraled inside him, touching places only she had access to. “I think it is beautiful, Zara. I am deeply touched you took the time to do this.” He took the painting from her to study it in more detail.
“You were on my mind most of the day anyway. I couldn’t think of a better way of spending my time. I love you, Saint.”
“And I love you, sweetheart.”
He placed the painting aside and pulled her into his arms to hold her and appreciate everything they had. All the love he felt in his heart was seeping through his veins. This was how love was supposed to be, how it was supposed to feel and how it was to be shared.
When she lifted her head to stare up at him, he stared back at her. Their love was meant to be. With that belief firmly planted in every part of him, he lowered his mouth to hers.