"I'm happy to see you again, too, sweetheart," he said, then pulled her close and kissed her.
Caroline resisted—for about two seconds.
But the seductive pull of his touch proved stronger than her resolve. When his lips moved persuasively, she succumbed and responded. No matter what else happened between the two of them, this never changed. Delighted in the feel of the man, in the strong beat of his heart beneath her palm, the feel of his hard muscles beneath her fingertips. Shocked with her easy capitulation, she sought the strength to push against that hard chest.
When he released her, she stared up at him, her eyes wide and furious. She wanted to be angry with him, but some of that anger was directed toward herself.
"Don't do that!"
"I like doing that. And by your response, you like it, too."
"That has nothing to do with anything," she snapped, turning to put some distance between them.
"I beg to differ. I think it shows there is still something between us."
"After the other night, I think that would be obvious. But it's only sex."
She didn't want to discuss the other night, but better she bring it up first. Maybe she could control the trend of the conversation. "That was never a problem area in our marriage. Speaking of which, did you bring the divorce papers back with you?"
"Not this trip. I want to talk with you first."
"You sound like a broken record. That's all you say. Where were you five years ago when I wanted to talk? There's nothing to say now."
"I think there is. Your response has me thinking things might not be over. That we might salvage something."
"Like what? You have your work and now I have a life in Dallas."
"So maybe your own business gives you a better understanding of the demands that can arise. I won't apologize for working hard. I wanted more for you and that was the only way I knew how to get it."
She spun around at that. "Oh, Brandon, that was never what I wanted. I grew up with money. It bought things, but things are meaningless when a person craves something else. I wanted a family. I wanted to be important to you, have you find me important."
"I did."
Remembering her thoughts of a different kind of marriage, she wondered if Brandon might be thinking along similar lines. A marriage that'd allow them to be together, but without the high and unrealistic expectations they'd once had.
"Why, after all this time, do you want a divorce?" she asked.
He rubbed the back of his neck and loosened his tie. Staring out over the shaggy green lawn he spoke softly. "I was advised to get one by my attorney."
She blinked in surprise. "Your attorney? Why?"
He drew a breath. The reason couldn't be any worse than the actual demand, she tried to tell herself as her apprehension grew the longer he took to answer.
"My company's ready to expand. We'll be moving into an entire new strata with the potential to reap a tremendous profit. Greg suggested I take steps to make sure I keep what I earn."
She stared at him for a moment, until the meaning sank in.
"So rather than take the chance your wife would come storming in to demand half of all that lovely profit, your attorney advised you to get rid of her, now, while you're still relatively poor?"
Brandon looked at her, his expression unreadable. He nodded, once, wondering why he'd given into Greg's suggestion. In all the years they'd been separated, Caroline had never once asked for a dime. She'd had her grandmother's wealth to fall back on. She hadn't needed anything he could give her. That thought rankled.
Even now, once the estate was settled, Caroline would inherit one third. The furnishings in the dining room alone would bring a tidy sum. He couldn't imagine her ever wanting anything from him.
Yet that didn't mean it wasn't prudent to protect his assets.
"You should've brought the papers—I'd sign them in a heartbeat," she said, walking past him and into the house.
Chapter Six
Brandon let out his breath in a long sigh. After spending that night with Caroline, all the old feelings began to tumble around inside. Dare they consider working out some arrangement where they'd stay married, even be together from time to time?
He shook his head. He'd missed her this last week more than he'd expected. Especially at night when he lay alone in that king-size bed, he'd bought a few years ago. Instead of instantly falling asleep each night, he'd lain awake and thought about Caroline. How soft her skin had felt, her hair like silk. Remembering not just their most recent night together, but others as well.
Closing his eyes, standing on the veranda surrounded with the scent of sweet jasmine, and despite the cool breeze from the river, he swore he could still smell Caroline's fragrance.
Spinning around, he went to his car and withdrew the large suitcase. He was staying until they'd hashed everything out and came to a resolution. He hoped it'd be one he'd want to live with.
Caroline heard Brandon's steps on the stairs, the sound of a door closing. He was staying. She was puzzled as to why he planned to stay despite her obvious lack of welcome.
He was the most determined man—focused on whatever goal he set for himself. Look how he'd risen from his poor beginnings to the successful businessman he was today. So successful, his attorney feared for his wife's greedy hand in his affairs.
Dressing quickly for bed, Caroline slipped between the sheets and snapped off her light. Lying alone in the dark, she felt the siren pull of Brandon's presence only a few doors down the hall. Closing her eyes for sleep didn't help. Behind her lids, she saw that night a week ago. She could almost feel Brandon's fingertips against her skin, his lips on hers. She kicked off the sheet, suddenly hot. The gentle air stirring from the open French doors caressed her skin, as his kisses had.
Rolling on her side, she curled up into a tight ball, wishing her mind would go blank.
"Caroline?"
The soft voice came from the upper balcony that wrapped the house.
"Go away, I'm asleep," she muttered, trying to ignore the pull of attraction.
"Come out and talk to me. There're advantages to this weather. The night's balmy and quiet and I'm too keyed up after that drive to sleep right away."
"That's not my problem," she said, but sat up. Where had she put her robe?
"Come talk to me in the dark," he coaxed.
"In the dark?"
She found the light cotton robe and slipped into it. Flicking her hair out of the neckline, she buttoned it. The floor felt cool beneath her feet as she stepped out onto the wooden balcony. Brandon leaned against the railing, dimly lighted by the stars and the moon that had risen a short time before.
"Why bother to talk. I tell you to go and you ignore me," she said.
"Or, I tell you I'm staying and all you do is argue."
She shrugged and crossed to the railing, careful to keep a wide distance between them. "We didn't used to argue."
"You used to chastise me for being away for long stretches."
"I told you I wanted a husband, not a large paycheck."
"I remember taking long walks together along the river," he said softly, moving closer.
Caroline nodded, watching him warily. She remembered the walks, too. Hands entwined, shoulders brushing as they strolled along the river side and spoke of dreams and plans. Such happy times.
The familiar ache began.
"If I tallied all the things I liked about being married to you, it would probably take me until Thursday," he said whimsically.
Caroline looked at him in astonishment. That didn't sound like a ruthless businessman.
"What an incredibly nice thing to say!"
"It's true. And I could tally what I didn't like in two sentences. I regret not having enough money to give you a life similar to the one in which you'd been raised. And I regret each minute I spent away from you."
Staring in disbelief, Caroline could scarcely trust her ears. Was she hearing him correctly? The honeyed words
soothed the ache.
"Then why didn't you come after me when I left? Or called or something?" she asked. If he had truly cared, how could he have let her go?
"I was hurting, too. Did you think I didn't love that baby we'd made? Did you think it meant nothing to me to lose it? To know I wouldn't be a father after all. That I wouldn't be helping my child to grow and learn. To see the wonder in his or her eyes as all the magic of living unfolded? That my dad probably wouldn't see a grandchild?"
She shook her head.
"I wanted to do something, but when I tried to talk to you, you'd just shake your head and change the subject. You shut me out, Caroline."
"I didn't shut you out," she protested, even when the doubts arose.
"It sure seemed like it."
Caroline felt dazed. Was his obsession with work truly the result of a wife who'd turned from him?
She'd been so devastated, so inconsolable. Losing her baby had been the hardest, most tragic event of her life. She'd felt so alone. How could she not have known her husband was grieving as well; that he needed more from her than she offered?
"I'm sorry, Brandon."
He nodded. "Grief is handled differently with different people."
"We should've known that. Maybe—" She stopped. What could she say?
"I spent a lot of my free time with my folks after you left. And with my mother after my dad died. She's a wise woman. She helped me work through the grief of losing you and the baby. Too bad the young aren't taught that before we need it. It'd make life a lot easier."
Caroline wrapped one arm around the tall pillar and gazed toward the river.
"You were lucky to have your mother. Eugenia kept telling me to get over it and move on. My sisters were no help, except to be there for support. It was so hard. Even today—"
"I know, the echoes of a crying baby when you awake in the dark."
When his arm encircled her shoulders, Caroline let go the pillar and rested against his chest. It felt so good to be held. To be able to tell him some of what she felt.
"Even today the desolation creeps into me." She realized something else. "I understand now how work can provide a kind of numbing solace." Hadn't she used her own business to try to forget Brandon when she moved to Dallas?
"With all your mother talked to you about, did she ever suggest you see me again?" Caroline asked, curious despite herself.
He shifted on the railing, turning to lean against it, drawing her into the circle of his arms.
"Not after that last rejection. She said maybe I was beating a dead horse and it was time to let you go."
"What last rejection?" she asked. "I never rejected you."
"What would you call refusing to take my calls, not answering my letters and having a maid tell me you weren't home when I'd seen you enter the house only moments before?" he asked evenly. "I call that blatant rejection."
Caroline felt confused. She leaned back in his arms searching his face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Instantly Brandon realized.
"Oh, blast it! Eugenia!" he said angrily.
"What?"
"I called that first evening when I got home and you were gone. Eugenia answered the phone and told me you didn't want to talk to me. I called every day for two weeks. I told you I had commitments. I couldn't leave, but I wasn't ignoring you, I called every night! Either Eugenia or some maid named Naomi answered the phone. The message was always the same—you didn't wish to speak to me. I left endless messages asking you to call me."
Caroline shook her head, horrified by what she was hearing. "No, that's not possible. No one gave me any messages."
She clutched his arms. This couldn't be true.
Grimly he nodded. "I called you daily for over a month. I actually came to the house three times and sent you at least five letters—and you know how much I hate to write letters."
Swallowing hard, she knew her world had been shaken again. And by her grandmother's machinations.
"So you did come after me. I never knew," she said, trying to take it all in.
"I never suspected your grandmother to lie. I believed what she said. I wanted to see you, to talk to you, hold you. I was dying inside. We'd lost our baby and then I was losing my wife. Each time that Naomi answered the door she said you weren't at home and she didn't know when to expect you."
"You should have challenged her story."
"I did the time I saw you enter just ahead of me. I pushed my way inside. Eugenia showed up. Your grandmother said you blamed me for everything. Your infatuation had worn off and you wanted out of the relationship. When I heard nothing from you as the days went by, I began to believe her."
Caroline sagged against him, resting her head against his chest.
Futile anger surged.
How had she dared? Eugenia knew how much she missed Brandon. She'd argued with her about it for weeks. And all the time Brandon had been trying to reach her. Her heart broke.
Tears welled. How could her own grandmother have conspired to keep her from her husband?
Was history repeating itself? Had her mother longed for her father when he went away due to Eugenia?
"I started to return to New Orleans a few weeks after coming here but she convinced me it'd be a mistake. If you cared anything about me, she insisted, you'd have contacted me. In a strange way, it made sense, so I went along with it. For a long time I didn't think too clearly. I was so grief stricken."
Brandon placed a finger beneath her chin and raised her head, resting his forehead on hers.
"We were both deceived."
"And our lives changed because of her. Just like my parents'. How could she have done that?"
Guilt began to build. She should have contacted Brandon, fought harder for her marriage.
After five years was it too late?
"I can't believe it. How dare she play God with people's lives!" Caroline said.
She was furious with her grandmother. Yet, had she not rambled so much when she was so sick, would Caroline believe what Brandon said?
She knew with certainty that Brandon wasn't lying to her now.
"So where do we go from here?" she asked, feeling bereft of everything, uncertain, unsure, numb.
Nothing in her life was proving to be the way she thought it'd been. Would she discover that she could love again? Or would the fear of loss, fear of his turning away, of putting work first always still stand between them?
"Where do you want to go from here?" Brandon asked, releasing her and turning to rest his palms against the railing.
"I'm not sure. I need some time to think about this. I feel as if my life has been turned upside down."
"But there's more, right?" he asked.
Caroline hated to respond. She wished she could slip back into her bed and pull the covers over her head. Try to discover how she really felt about all this. But she owed Brandon honesty, at least. Especially after her grandmother's lies.
"You came here a couple of weeks ago to seek a divorce. I'm willing to sign the papers to grant you that divorce," she said slowly. "I certainly wouldn't contest it. Learning this about my grandmother changes everything. I feel you got the raw end of the deal. I can't understand her."
She'd startled him, she could tell.
"It's all a jumble, but if you want to proceed, I won't fight it. The circumstances are far different from what I always thought. I'm at fault. I didn't know you tried to reach me. But I know I didn't reach out to you. You were right, I ran. A few weeks after I left New Orleans, I went to visit Jody. I didn't leave Dallas for a few years."
"And now?"
She thought about it for a minute.
"We had a wonderful seven months as a married couple. I loved being married to you, loved every moment until I lost the baby. But that time's gone. Things have happened over the last five years to change us. We aren't the same people we were then. And my grandmother did a horrible thing."
"You're not responsible for h
er actions. Or did your love die with the baby?"
"No. Not then."
"But later?"
"I don't know," she said, distressed anew. “I thought I was over you. I've made a comfortable life in Dallas.
Had her love died because she thought him uncaring? Or had it only lay dormant—awaiting his presence to spring to life again.
Why couldn't she think straight?
He was silent for a long time.
"Very well then. But if we're getting that divorce, I think we should make some memories to last us down the long lonely years."
He swept her into his arms and kissed her. When he raised his head, she was breathless.
"Sleep with me tonight," he urged.
She was tempted. Standing in the circle of his arms, she felt she could forget everything—the past, the present and the future. But she couldn't spend the rest of her life in his embrace.
She had to get her own life straight before she could think of any future.
"Brandon," Caroline began. She mustn't do this, not again. She could not make love with him tonight and say farewell in the morning.
"Hush," he said as his mouth came down on hers and swept away the doubts.
"I can't."
Pulling free, she fled to her bedroom and shut the French doors with a bang. Despite her best intentions, it was a long time before she fell asleep.
Caroline awoke early. For a moment she was disoriented, until memories returned.
The more she learned about her grandmother, the more angry she grew. The woman had likely ruined five lives, those of her mother, her sisters, her husband and herself. Her actions had been egregious. Was there anyway to mitigate them?
Brandon sat at the top of the stairs the next morning, waiting when Caroline left her room.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
"Fine."
She refused to confess how long she'd stayed awake reliving his kiss, wishing she'd had the courage to agree to his suggestion for making memories.
He rose and began to go down the stairs.
"I heard Rosalie a little while ago," he said.
Nervous, she looked at him from the corner of her eye. He seemed totally content, not a bit disturbed by her refusal last night. Swallowing hard, Caroline hoped desperately that her own demeanor looked as serene.
Letters to Caroline (The Talmadge Sisters Book 1) Page 9
