by Mollie Molay
Emily’s heart skipped. The pirate’s low voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t be sure it really was T.J. What she did know was that, whoever he was, the sword at his side was real and he sounded as if he meant business.
This was supposed to be a harmless costume carnival, she thought wildly as she looked around for help. There were more policemen in sight, but, heaven help her, she couldn’t tell if they were real or the carnival variety.
The gendarme reluctantly released her arm. “Apparently, I was mistaken, mademoiselle. My apologies.” With a cold glance at the pirate, he bowed and lost himself in the crowd.
“Who are you?” Emily demanded when she and the pirate were left standing in a sea of carnival celebrants. Someone blew a horn in her ear and showered her with confetti. She stumbled again. He steadied her against his chest for a moment then let her go. “Later.” Before she could thank him, he disappeared into the crowd.
The brief encounter was enough for Emily. She’d know T.J.’s embrace anywhere. After all, he was the man who’d made love to her. A man who had stolen her heart. The faint word “later” echoed in the salty night air.
She was sure he’d come back, but she was still troubled. After the way he’d left, should she want him to?
Although the night was warm and flaming torches lit the dark blue sky, she shivered in her white voile blouse and checkered blue pinafore.
Her uneasy feeling that something beyond her control was going on brought shivers to her skin long after she started back home. She reached the cottage porch and stopped when she sensed a presence.
“T.J.? Tom? Is that you?”
The velvet-clad pirate moved to her side and removed his mask. “Yes.”
She was relieved. Angry with him or not, what woman could have resisted a man who had saved her from some unknown harm and who continued to stir her senses?
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were when I asked you before?”
“Sorry, I was waiting for the right time and the right place,” he answered, and moved closer. “I wanted a more private setting—there’s so much I want to tell you.”
Emily backed away from his outstretched arms and shook her head. “I wanted to talk to you, too.”
“Go ahead,” he agreed, eyeing her the way a cat surveys his prey. If he kept looking at her like that, she’d be lost before she had a chance to tell him how she felt about his leaving her with only a note.
She drew a shaky breath, conscious of his warm presence beside her. “I’m tired of waiting for the men in my life to make up their minds about wanting me. First there was Sean, and now you. How could you have left me with only a note after you made love to me and asked me to trust you? Why didn’t you awaken me? Or call?”
He could see the hurt in her eyes and, before the night was through, he intended to kiss the hurt away. He threw his hat, mask and his gloves on the swing. “I’m sorry. The truth is I had to get away long enough to get my act together.”
“Your act? Let me tell you, your story had better be good. I’ve had enough of you trying to make up your mind whether or not you care about me.”
To T.J.’s dismay, Emily sounded more upset than before.
“I don’t know how good it’s going to sound,” he said with a tentative smile, “but it’s a long story.”
“Then you’d better get started.” She looked at her watch. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”
T.J. knew he’d hurt Emily, but he’d promised himself to tell her enough of the truth so she could understand him. He’d leave Tim out of his confession for now. If she turned him down, God forbid, at least his conscience, if not his heart, would be eased.
“My story started when I was nine, and I was adopted from the foundation. The same foundation that held the bachelor auction.” Emily nodded. “I felt so grateful, I tried to show my gratitude. When I was old enough, I took on responsibilities that left me hardly any time to be a real kid. Although I realize it was my choice, I know I didn’t have to do that.”
Emily could tell from his eyes that he found it difficult to admit to his background. As for trying to pay his parents back by not living his own life, that was another story. “I’m sure you’ve tried to do the right thing, but I don’t see what your being adopted has to do with me.”
“Just this. As a kid, I thought I was left at the Foundation for Homeless Children like a package to be reclaimed later. I even decided early on that I would never get married, have children and have it happen to them. And if I did get married, it would be to a woman who would stick by me and with any children we might have.”
Emily’s heart began to pound. Was he trying to tell her he didn’t love her? “And you’ve never found the right woman?”
He reached for her. She backed away. She wanted the whole truth.
“Not until I met you. And then, stupid me, I got to worrying about that dream of yours, which would take you out of here. I thought it was a choice between the dream or me. I convinced myself you could do both.”
“You never asked me, or let me make the choice,” she answered with wounded eyes. “Trust is a two-way street. Does that mean making love to me was merely an impulse?”
He wanted to take her in his arms and show her how much he did care for her. The hurt look in her eyes warned him it was touch-and-go. “Of course not. I’ve never been one to give in to impulse. The other night was no impulse. I wanted to make you see we belonged together. I wanted to convince you your dream could be fulfilled right here.”
She blushed. “I remember a few times when you gave in to an impulse.”
At the reminder of passionate love scenes, it was his turn to flush. “I remember a couple of impulsive embraces, too, but they were nothing like that night.”
“You still haven’t told me why you’re here now.”
“I decided it was time to be up-front with you. I love you, Em.” He waited until he saw her eyes clear, the frown on her forehead disappear. “So what would you say if I asked you to marry me?”
“I’d say I have some things to think over. Some omissions can be forgiven, but breaking my heart over you isn’t one.”
T.J. felt a despair creep over him. If he lost Emily now… “You’re sure? I never wanted to break your heart.”
“I’m sure,” she echoed. “I do love you, but you keep waxing hot and cold. I’ve been down that road before, and I can’t do it again. I’m not sure I can trust you enough to marry you.”
T.J. gazed at the determined look in her eyes, her set lips.
His heart sank. Emily was right. Without trust, there could be love, but without it, there couldn’t be marriage.
Chapter Eleven
Emily locked the door behind T.J. with a heavy heart. Her head was pounding with the beginning of a giant headache, and from its intensity, she knew the pain wasn’t likely to go away anytime soon.
Too disturbed to even try to sleep, she curled up on the window seat and watched the carnival celebration wind down for the night.
Maybe T.J. had been right. Maybe she had been fooling herself. Maybe the Venice outside her window was the Venice of her dreams.
Now that she was living in the cottage, she began to suspect the dream of going to Italy might have been an attempt to recapture the happier days of her childhood.
She recalled telling T.J. sometimes a person can’t go home again. Tonight, with her childhood memories drifting back to her, she felt as though she’d never left.
She rested her chin on her knees and faced the truth. She wasn’t the young girl who spent her summers with her aunt. The dream closest to her heart wasn’t visiting Italy. She was a grown woman whose real dream was to recreate the loving home her Aunt Emily had made for her each summer.
Given the opportunity, she would have created that dream with a strong and loving man.
T.J. could have been that man.
No sooner than she’d asked him to leave, she’d been tempted to hurl herself into his arms and ask him not to go. She’d yearne
d to taste his lips one more time, to feel his strong arms around her taking her to the magical world only he had been able to create.
Her heart had urged her to call him back; her pride hadn’t allowed her to.
Her heart ached with still-vivid memories. Of the way he had rained kisses over her skin when he’d taken her in his arms and made them one. Of his warm, blue eyes gazing down on her while he made passionate love to her. Of the way she’d given him her heart and her soul.
Could she have been so in love with love she hadn’t taken time to realize T.J. had held part of himself back?
She closed the velvet drapes, checked the windows to make sure they were securely fastened before she headed for her bedroom. It was time to decide on the direction her life would have to take. Letting go of a precious childhood dream was hard enough. The possibility of losing T.J. in the bargain was even worse.
To add to her uncertainty, she tried to imagine what her aunt would think of T.J.
She hesitated at the door to her aunt’s bedroom. Even with T.J. beside her, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to go inside because of her childhood memories, so how could she go in now without breaking her heart over those same memories?
She turned away and went into her own room. The rose curtains, the quilt on the bed and the matching throw pillows on the bed had all been made by her Aunt Emily to make a lonely little girl feel at home. She glanced around the room and sensed her aunt’s presence.
She sank down on the edge of the bed. How in the world could she even have thought to sell the cottage? Or see it torn down to make way for another cold, impersonal condominium complex like the one next door?
And why in the world, she wondered, had she turned away the only man who appeared to emphathize with her when she told him about her happy memories of visiting here every summer?
She changed into a nightgown, curled up on top of the quilt and cradled a pillow where T.J.’s masculine scent lingered. She thought of the moments when his hands had stroked her heated body, of his strong, demanding lips on hers. And of the friction created by heated skin sliding over heated skin. She finally fell into a twilight sleep where images of T.J. continued to haunt her.
A sound from the other room awakened her.
She put on a robe, crossed the hall and opened the door to her aunt’s bedroom. The strong scent of her aunt’s lavender potpourri filled the air.
“I’m home, Aunt Emily,” she whispered, knowing in her heart of hearts she belonged here.”
There was no answer, but she really hadn’t expected one.
Emily smiled as she remembered her beloved aunt rocking gently back and forth with a young Emily in her lap. Reading from her favorite story about shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings. And of the wise Duchess who’d said there was a moral behind everything. Tonight, instead of a moral there seemed to be a message. She was home again.
The bedroom looked to be the same as when T.J. had mentioned the mildewed wall and had started to investigate the source.
She blushed to remember that night—the night she’d told him to forget the wall. To come back to bed and keep her warm. And the magical moments that had followed.
A gust of salty air blew through the open window. In the stillness of the night, she could hear the sound of the pounding ocean surf a block away. Under the billowing lace curtains, a vinyl window shade clapped against the window frame.
Relieved that the rattle of the shade’s wooden weight was the sound that had awakened her, Emily closed the window and drew the curtains closed. And yet, something about the room continued to nag at her.
Emily gazed uneasily at the rocking chair that the gust of wind had set into motion. If she hadn’t opened it, who had? Was T.J. right? It wasn’t safe for her to be here alone. She turned back to survey the room and the damaged wall where the damp had begun to crumble it.
It was time to forget her pride and call T.J. But she intended to make it clear that she hadn’t forgotten the reason she’d sent him away. After her experience with Sean, she didn’t intend to be twice a fool.
“HI, SWEETHEART!”
“Don’t sweetheart me,” Emily tried to ignore the warmth that swept her at the sight of his jeans and a glimpse of a ribbed V-neck T-shirt under his open button-front knit shirt. A T-shirt whose neckline was low enough for her to catch a glimpse of tanned skin she’d so lovingly kissed such a short time ago.
How was she going to have an intelligent conversation with the man when he looked as if he’d walked out of her heart?
She led T.J. into the kitchen where she had a fresh pot of coffee waiting.
She had a firm grip on reality, she told herself, and he wasn’t going to sway her with his killer smile and soft words. She poured the coffee and started to tell him about the mildew and the open window.
T.J. interrupted her. “Stop right there, Em. I don’t care why you asked me back here, all I need to know is that you did. But I’m telling you that this time I’m not going to leave without our coming to an understanding.” He motioned away the cup of coffee.
“I know you think I was taking advantage of you, but the truth is I love you. Not for just today, but wherever you go and whatever happens to us. You’re Em, and you always will be. No matter what happens next.”
She slid the cup back to him. “That’s not why I called, and please don’t call me Em. I called because I thought I heard something last night after you left. When I looked around I found a window open in my aunt’s room.”
T.J. shot out of his chair. “Are you okay? Did they take anything?”
“No, to both questions. But that’s not the only reason.” She took a deep breath and settled into a chair across from him. “I wanted to apologize for some of the things I said to you.”
T.J. should have felt vindicated, but he didn’t like the doubt he still heard in her voice. Damn! If he loved Emily and wanted to be her husband, he should have told her so before he left. And not in a note, either.
But trying to make Emily realize the days of him changing his mind were over wasn’t the important thing right now. If someone had opened the bedroom window, Emily might be in some kind of danger. “Forget it. After waxing hot and cold, I had it coming.” He motioned away cream and sugar. “Just tell me how I can help you.”
“I noticed the condition of the bedroom wall and decided it was time to do something about it before the roof caves in.”
T.J. drained his coffee cup. “Does that mean you intend to keep the cottage?”
“I think so.”
“Thank God,” he muttered. “I’d hate to see someone buy it, knock it down and build a cement monstrosity. But before I take a look, I’d like to ask a favor.”
Emily gazed at him over the edge of her coffee cup. Her expressive eyes revealed the debate going on in her mind. Should she give him another chance?
“What did you have in mind?”
“All I’m asking for is a chance to explain why I’ve acted the way I have.” He gazed at her with all the tenderness he felt inside him. After he explained, maybe he stood a chance of reaching her.
“Just this,” he began slowly. “I want to make you understand how hard it was for me to talk about my hang-ups. I was all mixed up, until I met you.” He grinned sheepishly. “There were thoughts I never even admitted to myself until two days ago, let alone to anyone else.” He went on to explain his need to prove he could be a good son to his adoptive parents. And his determination not to fall in love and marry a woman who one day might leave him.
She sipped at her coffee and silently gazed back at him. There were dark shadows under her eyes. A frown creased her forehead.
He wasn’t home yet.
“I don’t know what that had to do with your trusting me,” Emily finally answered. “If you had, you would have known what kind of woman I am. I’ve never walked away from anything or anyone I loved.”
“I was wrong to even think so,” he agreed, and reached for her han
d. “But it seems I had to let go of the past in order to realize how wrong I was. I hope it’s not too late.”
“I’m not sure,” Emily answered, willing herself not to go into his arms. Not yet. Broken hearts didn’t mend that easily. “I asked you here to help me find out why the window was open. And to take another look at the bedroom wall.”
Frustrated, T.J. rubbed the back of his neck. He still had to find a way to make her believe in him. To make her realize he had to put aside his own memories before he asked her to marry him. He had to make her believe it was time to create a future together.
“Will you let the window and the wall wait for a little while?” he finally asked. “I’d like to settle whatever has come between us.”
Emily blinked, but he could tell from the way her beautiful eyes warmed she wasn’t that angry anymore. He came around the table and drew her into his arms.
“I had to let go of the past in order to make a future for us, Em. Will you?”
She hesitated. “So did I. When I’m in your arms, heaven help me, I can’t think of anything else but you,” she said with a tumultuous smile.
He captured her lips in his. “Heaven already has helped us both, or we wouldn’t be here now,” he whispered.
The last of Emily’s reservations began to fade in T.J.’s embrace. At first his kiss was tender, then his lips were hard as he delved between hers. The taste of him, the strength of him as he held her to him made her heart sing, her legs weaken and her body warm. She shivered at the intimate way he kneaded her shoulders, tenderly tongued the hollow between her breasts. The rush of desire she’d felt for him the other night was nothing compared to the way she wanted him now.
If he’d been indecisive about wanting her before, surely it had to be different now. Today, she was as sure of his true love as she was sure of how much she loved him.
This was more than mere desire, she told herself as she gave herself up to T.J. This was the true love she’d dreamed of finding. The love she’d been waiting for.
“Will you marry me, Em?”
Emily was silent.
T.J. laughed, picked her up in his arms and carried her to her bed. “You’re not going to get away from me, this time, sweetheart. There’s nothing to keep us apart now.”
