Chapter Seven
T he scars were on the left side of his face. She had a brief impression of thick, harsh red lines scoring his skin from his cheekbone to his chin. His hand came up and covered them, while at the same time, he turned away.
Cathy’s breath caught in her throat. Not because his disfigurement had been worse than she’d imagined, but because his profile from the right side was incredibly handsome.
If men were allowed to be called beautiful, the description would fit him perfectly.
His hair was dark and a little too long—at least down to the middle of his collar.
His nose was straight, his mouth well formed, his eyes an unusual shade of blue gray.
He could have been a male model, or a heartthrob in the movies, she thought with some dismay.
He was tall and lean. Ula had hinted that Stone didn’t eat much, so his shape didn’t surprise her too much.
However, she hadn’t expected the layer of muscle that was obvious even though he wore a long-sleeved shirt and jeans.
He must work out, but not too much. He looked strong but not overly developed.
She knew she should say something. After all, she’d barged in on him.
The realization made her flush. She’d wanted to show him her new hairstyle and makeup, but what was the point?
Even with the scars, he was an incredibly handsome man.
She hadn’t thought much about what he might look like, and when she had tried to picture him, she’d foolishly assumed he would be fairly average.
Someone in her league. She’d been wrong.
Stone Ward was many things, but mostly he was out of reach. Rich and now good-looking. What on earth would he see in someone like her?
The crash of her dreams was as audible as the echo of the tide on the shore below. She felt defeated and more than a little foolish. All this time, she’d thought she meant something to him. Instead, he was only being kind. He must despise her.
“So it’s that bad,” he said lightly. “I’ve left you speechless.” He gave her a mocking smile. “I don’t suppose I should be surprised.”
At first she thought he was angry, but then she realized he was as embarrassed as she was—but for different reasons. He thought she was horrified.
Compassion filled her. She was still feeling off guard and more than a little foolish, but his pain mattered more than hers. She would worry about herself later.
So instead of running, which was what she wanted to do, she squared her shoulders and walked toward him. “They’re just scars, Stone. To be perfectly honest, I’d imagined something a lot worse.”
He half turned toward her, then stopped himself, as if wanting to keep that side of his face away from her. She sighed as her heart went out to him. So much for self-preservation where this man was concerned. Maybe it was her lack of experience with the opposite sex. Or maybe it was Stone himself.
“Shades of the Elephant Man?” he asked.
“That would have been an improvement over my imagination.” She paused in front of his desk. “I didn’t mean to barge in and disturb you. I just wasn’t thinking. I’ll leave if you want me to.”
Stone gave her a quick glance. He didn’t know what he wanted. Now that Cathy was here, he didn’t want her to go. But he also didn’t want her to see him. Unfortunately it was too late for that. She had seen him. And while she’d seemed surprised, she hadn’t run screaming from the room.
“Why did you come to see me?” he asked, as if the reason would be significant.
She bit her lower lip. He thought she might be blushing, but it was hard to tell. “This is going to sound really stupid, but I got my hair cut and I wanted to show you.”
Her chin dipped toward her chest and she stiffened, as if expecting punishment for her confession. They were, he realized, a sorry pair. If nothing else, maybe they could work on healing each other’s wounds.
“Please stay,” he said.
She raised her head. “Only if you’ll look at me.”
He knew what she meant. Sometimes looking at someone was the hardest thing he’d ever done. The bright afternoon light didn’t offer any shadows in which to hide. There was no point, anyway. Her intent was clear. She wanted to stare at him until he wasn’t unfamiliar anymore.
He moved toward his desk, then settled into his chair. At the same time, he motioned for her to take the seat opposite his.
She did as he requested, and they stared at each other. Cathy smiled first. “I’m really nervous. What if you don’t like my haircut?”
Her comment, so unexpected, broke the tension between them. He relaxed back in his chair and grinned. “Guess you’ll be in trouble.”
Then he actually looked at her hair. It was different than it had been in the hospital.
He recalled medium brown strands that were straight.
When he’d observed her during her physical-therapy sessions, he’d noticed that she wore her hair parted in the center.
The simple style allowed her hair to fall forward and shield her face.
The new cut left her face exposed. Fringed bangs hung down her forehead, but the sides curled away. Her layered hair was a rich brown with lots of red highlights.
He’d only ever seen her eyes in the shadows, but he never would have guessed they were green, or so large and pretty. Her skin glowed. There was something else different, too. Something…
He frowned. “Your face is thinner. In fact, all of you is thinner. Have you been losing weight?”
Her mouth stretched into a smile, and she looked as if he’d just handed her a salary’s worth of stock options. “Yes,” she said, and grinned some more.
He recalled Evelyn’s complaints about wanting to lose ten pounds. She’d looked fine to him. From what he’d heard, Evelyn hadn’t been alone in her quest. “Are you eating enough? Women obsess about their weight. I’ve never understood it.”
Cathy made an X over her heart. “I swear, I’m eating plenty.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t know what to say. Cathy had been more rounded than some women but less rounded than others. He’d thought she was fine. But he knew better than to say that. Instead, he focused on her new haircut.
“I like it,” he told her. “The color is nice. It brings out your eyes. You look very pretty.”
This time he didn’t have to guess at her blush. She ducked her head again, but it wasn’t from fear. His compliment brought her pleasure.
Something unfamiliar flickered through Stone. A need he couldn’t define. He wanted…what? To say the right thing? To offer her a—
To touch her.
The thought came from nowhere, and once he’d acknowledged it, he couldn’t let it go.
He wanted to touch her hair and see if it felt as soft as it looked.
He wanted to touch her smooth cheeks, her neck.
He wanted to pull her close and taste her mouth while his hands stroked the generous curve of her hips.
She was so incredibly female and alive and whole and he wanted her.
The fire stunned him with its intensity.
One minute he’d been admiring a new hairstyle; the next every part of him was alive.
He was hard and ready to take her. He cursed silently.
It had been so long since he’d had that kind of a reaction that he’d begun to assume that part of him had ceased to function.
But everything was working now. The ache was nearly unbearable.
He forced himself to remain calm. He didn’t want to give away his thoughts or his condition. Cathy would be appalled. In her mind, he must be a brute. A flawed shell of a man. His desire would horrify her.
She raised her head and looked at him. “I want to ask about the accident but I don’t want to pry,” she said.
He’d nearly forgotten. About the scars, about the fact that she was seeing them for the first time. “What has Ula told you?” he asked.
He didn’t think his housekeeper would betray anything personal, but Cathy and Ula seemed to get along. It was natural that they would have talked.
“Not much,” she admitted. “I know you were in a car accident.” She hesitated, as if not sure how much to mention. “I know that your wife died when you were injured.”
His wife. He still had trouble thinking of Evelyn that way.
As his wife. To him, she would always be his best friend, the shining part of him that was his conscience and his sounding board.
When he’d listened to her, he’d done well.
When he’d ignored her advice, he’d often paid the price through failure. Right up until the end, he thought.
The pain was an old, familiar companion. He knew it would always be there. The regrets he could never forget. The sins for which he could never atone. Not that the latter kept him from trying. If only, he thought sadly. If only he had it to do all over again.
“We’d been at a party,” he said flatly. “I’d had too much to drink, so she was driving us home. There was a crash.”
He remembered all of it. The harsh words and accusations, the way she’d kept asking him “Why?”
“She ran off the road,” he continued, but the story had no meaning to him. He was simply repeating what the police had told him. “They were never sure if there was another car involved and the driver left the scene, or if Evelyn just lost control.”
“Was it raining?”
He shook his head. “The night was clear, but it was late.” Although she couldn’t have fallen asleep.
They’d been in the middle of their argument when they’d crashed.
He knew that for certain. Nothing had been resolved.
Evelyn, perhaps the only person he’d ever loved, had died thinking him a complete bastard. The hell of it was, she was right.
“I’m sorry,” Cathy said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
He dismissed her comment with a wave. “It’s fine.
The accident was a long time ago. I don’t mind talking about it.
” Another lie. Another familiar companion.
At least their conversation had one desired effect—the need he’d felt had faded, along with the physical manifestation. Perhaps it had never happened at all.