Even though he'd told her of being swept into the Witness Protection Program, she hadn't grasped that he couldn't jeopardize his family's safety by including her in their secret.
Having concentrated only on how Billy's disappearance had affected her, feeling first abandoned, then betrayed, she realized she hadn't stopped to imagine how he must have felt. Forced to leave his family, friends, school and everything familiar, his life had been ripped away from him.
Everything she took for granted, including his freedom, all had been painfully denied him. By choosing to do the right thing, he and his family had walked a solitary, lonely path, not daring to make new friends, forced to leave behind everything they cherished. Could she have been strong-enough to make the same choice? Could she even now?
What would it be like to discover one day you had to throw away your past … yes, even the one you loved? Because she knew with every bit of certainty that she had been his love.
She thought of her own family, the casual ease with which they could congregate. Her eyes drifted down to the pain showcased in the photographs in the album. Nothing was easy for the Duncan family. Certainly not for the boy Billy had been, nor the man Kenneth had become. The past had been erased, the future was uncertain.
She stared out the massive windows, listening to the music that played, thinking of how very isolated Kenneth's life was, how much he risked even now by telling her. He hadn't said so, but he'd placed a huge amount of trust in her hands by divulging the Duncans' secret. Their very existence could be shattered by such knowledge. She was important to him, she realized. As important as his own safety.
The catch in her throat grew as the song Kenneth had left to play on the stereo finally penetrated her senses. She listened carefully to the haunting words of the melody he had serenaded her with in the horse-drawn carriage. The song that had been theirs so many years ago, one that had drawn them together in the throes of first love, one that spoke to them again on their precarious second start.
Well into the second verse, the song beckoned. As it concluded, the final words replayed themselves in her mind, words of a young man as he pleaded with his lady not to end their love. Remembering how Kenneth had waged his own campaign to win her back, she was struck by the similarity. Suddenly doubting her stubbornness and the wisdom of her decision, she swallowed a growing lump in her throat.
Sensing Kenneth's presence, she slowly raised her eyes. A loosely belted robe covered his freshly washed body, and his hair was a dark, wet mane. The thatch of hair on his muscled chest gleamed with moisture. His distinctive scent reached her and she could feel the trembling in her limbs … the quaking in her heart.
Just as he had when she was eighteen, he made her feel alive in a way no one before or since had ever accomplished. She thought suddenly of the lucky penny she'd found the night before, the subconscious wish to have him back, for it to work this time.
Unsteadily she rose to her feet, silently beckoning him.
Her eloquent eyes spoke to him. In a few quick strides, he stood next to her. "Barbara?"
She reached out to stroke his jaw. "I'm sorry."
Surprised, he reached for her hand. "For what?"
"For all your pain, for your losing everything dear. For thinking more of what it cost me than what it cost you."
Shaken, he felt his heart lurch.
Then she was in his arms, melting against him. Her hands were greedy, her lips urgent. Afraid to question her change of heart, he accepted the caresses, returned the kisses.
Desperation seized them. Hot, relentless, untamed. "I should have known it was you," she whispered against his lips, feeling her own tremble with the revelation. "Maybe part of me did."
"I wanted you to know, to reach out and see who I was," he admitted, sinking his face against the soft sweep of her hair. "No one has ever known me as well as you."
Tiny gasps escaped her. "I've missed you. All these years…"
"I love you. I've never stopped loving you," he admitted freely, thankful she was in his arms, praying somehow it would last.
"I want you as much now as then," she confessed, her fingers linking behind his head. "Maybe more."
"You dazzle me, Barbara Callister," he said finally, his breath a whisper against her cheek. "That hasn't changed. That won't ever change."
She was in his arms suddenly as he swept her into his embrace, carrying her down the hall, to his bedroom, a room she'd not yet seen. Tendrils of fog-drenched moonlight spilled through the wall of windows, across the lush carpet that he carried her over soundlessly.
This was his world, one she wanted to belong to again.
His lips were endlessly patient, endlessly greedy as they moved over hers, eliciting her approval, sealing her fate. Each movement, each nuance was sweetly familiar now, the past leaving its reckoning print on the present they now shared.
Her heart sang as his hands made a reverent journey over her body and a wall of memories flooded her. Reaching upward, she traced the slant of his jaw, his firm chin, pausing over laugh lines near his eyes, her heart clenching over those of pain etched by his lips. How could she have not seen the signs before? Recognized the strength. With the life he'd been forced to lead, it was little wonder he possessed so much insight and wisdom.
Wishing she could erase that pain, all he'd sacrificed, she sighed against him, then began a journey of her own as his strong, clever hands peeled away the barriers of clothing.
Kenneth looked down into the face that had been part of his irretrievable past and now his future. All the hesitation and reserve was gone from her shadowed features, replaced by a sweetness that sang in his blood, then gripped his heart.
Now he could reveal his knowledge of each pleasure she craved. Slowly, almost lazily, he dipped into the flames she could so easily ignite. Her answering strokes were gentle, warm and totally accepting.
It was that acceptance, that hope, which fueled him. Making her drift on a languorous sweep of pleasure, he reveled as she tilted her throat back to accept each kiss, each savoring taste.
As he took them higher, feeling her shudders of pleasure, her inarticulate gasp of satisfaction, he watched her eyes flicker to a shuttered place. And his heart prayed she had taken him with her.
* * *
The silvery cast of moonlight revealed all of his perfect features. Billy, Kenneth. The man she loved.
Traces of tension still lined his face and she nearly reached out to smooth them away. Slowly she pulled her hand back. She didn't want to awaken him just yet. He'd barely fallen asleep after their hours together.
Slipping from the bed, she donned his terry robe and watched him for another long, silent moment. He nearly stirred, so she crossed the room silently. Making her way soundlessly down the corridor, she entered the den where the banked fire had burned down to a splutter.
The lights were still on, making it easy to find her way. This time she could savor the room, learn more of this intriguing man she intended to call her own. To discover all the changes that accompanied his transformation from boy to man. While she'd grown to know him in his new identity, it struck her that he'd shown her only the smooth, easy pieces of his life. It was clear there was so much more.
Her fingertips drifted over the rows of books that filled the mahogany shelves. So many leather-bound volumes. She wondered if they made up for the lonely gap in his life. Picking up one book, she flipped it open and a picture fell out, slipping to the floor. She picked it up, started to replace it, and then stared at the photo. It was a particularly revealing photo, taken shortly before the Duncan family had been separated. She knew the time frame because she stood next to Billy in the picture. They were laughing, carefree, painfully in love. Both of them looked incredibly happy.
A thought struck her. She, and only she, had the ability to give him back part of that life, a fraction of that happiness. She was the only woman who had known him as he was and who could love him for the man he had become. The only one that could
meld both halves of his life. There need be no barriers between them, no secrets to protect the past. They had come full circle.
Holding her breath, her fingers caressed the picture once again. Gripping it in that same hand, she crossed the room and stood at the desk. In moments, she was rummaging in the top drawer, trying to find a pair of scissors. Unable to find them, her gaze skipped across the room until it rested on her purse.
Retrieving it, she reached inside, her fingers tripping across the lucky penny she'd stashed. A flash of intuition pierced her and she rubbed the penny one more time. Then she picked up her manicure scissors, carefully cutting Kenneth's picture to fit her locket. Opening the heart-shaped necklace, she placed the new picture on top of the old one.
Hoping he wanted this piece of his life back as much as she wanted to give it to him, she clasped the locket shut.
The bedroom was still dim when she reentered. The fog had dissipated, leaving a spill of moonlight to drench the open wall of windows and travel over the room. She thought Kenneth was still asleep as she approached the bed. Soundlessly she padded close, unbelted the robe and let it slide to the floor.
"I wondered where you'd gone," he said quietly, a wealth of unasked questions lingering in his husky tones.
His voice didn't startle her. She was glad he was awake. The sheets rustled gently as she rejoined him. "Don't wonder anymore." Taking his hand, she guided it to her locket. "I believe you know all my secrets."
She felt the faintest tremble in his hands as he opened the trick fastening. Glad of the illuminating moonlight, she watched the shadows in his eyes clear as he saw the newly joined pictures.
"I love you," she said simply.
"My life isn't an easy one to share," he warned in a voice threaded with logic and a thrumming of longing.
She laughed then, a rich sound that covered a lifetime of memories, and a fair share of regret. "You've never been easy."
His arms trapped her, rolling her back to the mattress, her face inches from his. "This time I won't let you go."
"This time I'll hold you to that."
His hands lifted to gently fist her hair. "Would you really consider giving up everything to marry me?"
Her smile was equally tender. "Just think of what I'm getting in return."
"A man with no name of his own, a life of duplicity, uncertainty—"
She placed her fingers on his lips, stilling the words. "I've always regretted saying no to you fifteen years ago. I was almost foolish enough to repeat that mistake. But I don't want to live the rest of my life regretting … wondering. I want to spend my days with you—" her eyes darkened to a deep midnight velvet "—and share my nights with you. I want your blue-eyed babies, your head on the pillow next to mine, your arms around me, the past we both share."
"Don't think you'll get tired of me in the next fifty years?" he asked, tracing a reverent line along her cheek, his thumb then easing over her lips.
A smile lit her eyes, lingered on her face. "Just think of all the spectacular surprises I'm in for. By the time our golden anniversary rolls around, I think heart-shaped pizzas will pale in comparison to what you'll dream up then."
"Don't think I'll disappoint you?"
She couldn't repress the hitch in her voice, the glistening in her eyes. "Never."
His hands cupped her face, his eyes connecting with and holding hers. "I can't believe we've been given a second chance."
"And maybe this time—"
He stopped her words with a kiss. "No maybes, Barbara. This time is ours. No regrets?"
Her smile reached into her heart. "Not anymore, now that I have you."
"I love you, Barbara Callister."
She thought she heard a sound like a coin clinking to the floor, reminding her of the lucky penny she'd wished on. Dreams did come true. And this time she would share hers with her first and only true love. "And I love you."
Clouds wisped by, casting shadows on the moon, then lifting, taking them away, chasing away the regret. The moon glimmered again. Drifting on the past, cradling the future and shining on the night.
* * * * *
WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN Page 19
