The Virgin Mistress

by Linda Turner

  “Thank you for understanding,” she said thickly. “Goodbye.”

  Later, Austin never knew how he let her go. She was the best thing that had happened to him since he’d lost Jenny and the baby, and every instinct he had told him he’d be a fool to let her walk away from him. But for now, he had no choice. She was hurting, and all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her. Thanks to the bastard who’d nearly raped her, however, that was the last thing he could do.

  Frustrated, aching for her, he drove away from the school, resigned to the fact that he had to respect her wishes and cut her out of his life. It was the only decent thing to do.

  But, Lord, she didn’t make it easy for him. He poured himself into his work over the course of the next few days, but every time he let his guard down the least little bit, he found himself thinking of her, wondering what she was doing, worrying about her. But it was the nights that were the worst.

  When he was asleep and his defenses were down, he dreamed of the man who’d tried to force himself on her, and it ripped him apart. All too clearly, he could imagine the terror on her face when she’d realized what was happening, and he wanted to kill the monster for daring to lay so much as a finger on her. But in the nightmare, there was nothing he could do but stand helplessly by and watch.

  Swearing, he woke in a sweat night after night, until he couldn’t stand it one minute more. Switching on the bedside light, he reached for the phone and called her. It wasn’t until he heard her sleepy hello that he glanced at the clock and realized it was after midnight.

  “I’m sorry,” he said huskily. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  “Austin, is that you? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I was just worried about you. Are you okay?”

  When she hesitated, he wanted to believe that she’d missed him as much as he had her, but all she said was, “I’m fine. Work’s been keeping me busy. How’s the case coming?”

  “Slow,” he said flatly. “But that’s not why I called. I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day at school.”

  “Austin—”

  “Wait,” he said quickly, stopping the protest he could already hear in her voice. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. I don’t blame you. That had to be a horrible experience for you, and I can understand why you don’t want to dredge up the past again. But you can’t let that bastard ruin the rest of your life. If we stop seeing each other because of something he did to you when you were fourteen, he’s still raping you.”

  “No!”

  “Yes, he is,” he insisted. “Think about it. Every time you withdraw from me or any other man, he’s hurting you all over again. And you’re letting him.”

  “No, I’m not!”

  “Yes, you are, honey. Can’t you see how the past is controlling your life today? It doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to fight this thing alone.”

  Lying in the dark with the phone pressed to her ear, Rebecca blinked back sudden, stinging tears. She did feel alone—she had for a long time now. How had he known? “It’s not that easy,” she said thickly. “I’ve tried…”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, sweetheart. You’ve tried. Now let’s try it together.”

  He made it sound so easy. “How?”

  “By not withdrawing into yourself. You’ve done that in the past, and it hasn’t helped. So why can’t we still be friends? Why can’t we still see each other? Now that I know everything, you don’t have to worry about me scaring you again. I would never force you into a physical relationship.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t. I know that.”

  “Then I don’t see any reason why we can’t start over and try this again. If you don’t want me to ever touch or kiss you again, I’ll accept that. It’s your call. Give us a chance, honey. Give yourself a chance.”

  She wanted to—more than anything. But she’d tried so many times in the past, only to endure more disappointment and heartache. How could she put herself through that again?

  “I don’t know,” she said softly. “I don’t know if you realize what you’re asking.”

  “A chance,” he repeated. “Just a chance. That’s all I’m asking. And you don’t have to make a decision tonight,” he added quickly. “It’s late and I woke you up out of a sound sleep. You need to think about this when you’re more alert and can consider all the pros and cons. So go back to sleep. We’ll talk later in the week. Okay?”

  Caught off guard by the swiftness with which he ended the conversation, she said, “Yeah…I guess. But I can’t make any promises.”

  “That’s okay,” he assured her. “All I want you to do right now is think about it.”

  Long after he hung up, Rebecca found it impossible to go back to sleep. Lying in the dark, her mind working overtime, she couldn’t help but consider his suggestion. What if he was right? What if he wasn’t?

  Torn, she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so drawn to a man. She only had to think of him to smile, and she readily admitted that she didn’t want to let him go. She’d thought of nothing but him since the moment she’d sat down to dinner with him at Joe and Meredith’s his first night in town, but she didn’t see how any kind of relationship between the two of them could possibly work. How could it? If she couldn’t tolerate a simple kiss, she’d never be able to tolerate sex. And while Austin might think that might not be a problem now, with time, he would come to resent such a situation. And she couldn’t blame him. She would, too.

  But what if he was right? she wondered. What if, instead of running from her fears from the past, she faced them…with him. Could he help her? Was she willing to take a chance and find out?

  Her heart pounding against her ribs, she replayed in her mind every date she’d ever had and cringed at the memories that flashed like one long continuous nightmare before her eyes. She didn’t want to live that way for the rest of her life, she thought, swallowing a sob. She couldn’t. Austin was right. He was offering her a chance she couldn’t pass up.

  Five

  Two days came and went, and Austin didn’t hear a word from Rebecca. They were the longest two days of his life. He had plenty of work to keep him busy, but every time he dropped his guard the least little bit, his thoughts invariably wandered to her. What was she doing? Had she given any thought to his suggestion? Was her silence his answer?

  Frustrated, he almost called her a half dozen times, and more than once, he drove by her apartment before he even realized what he was doing. But he’d told her to take whatever time she needed to make a decision, and he promised himself he wouldn’t push her. She’d call him when she’d made up her mind. For now, all he could do was wait.

  In the past, he’d always thought he was a patient man. He’d never rushed an investigation or, for that matter, a woman. But then again, he’d never met anyone quite like Rebecca Powell before. She had a peacefulness about her that called to his troubled soul and a vulnerability that made him just want to wrap his arms around her and hold her.

  But that was something she couldn’t tolerate right now and might never be able to accept from him. And that was the reason he waited. This had to be totally and completely her decision, with no pressure from him whatsoever.

  So he waited, and tried not to watch the clock. But when the phone rang two nights later, he pounced on it like a teenager waiting for a call from the first girl he’d ever had a crush on. “Hello?”

  “Hi,” she said huskily. “Have you had dinner?”

  “Actually, I ordered a pizza. It should be here any minute.”

  “Why don’t you bring it over?” she suggested. “I’ll make a salad to go with it. Then we can talk.”

  “Give me ten minutes, max,” he said, and hung up just as the delivery boy knocked at the door.

  Hurriedly paying for the pizza, he reminded himself that just because she wanted to talk didn’t mean she was going to give him the answer he wanted. She was the t
ype of woman who would let a man down face-to-face. And if that was why she’d invited him over, he would have to accept it, like it or not. After all that she’d been through, the last thing she needed was any kind of pressure from him.

  Standing at her front door a few minutes later, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous. Then she opened the door at his knock, and he forgot all about the pizza he carried. He hadn’t eaten in nearly seven hours, but the only thing he was interested in was her.

  It wasn’t that she’d dressed up for him—she hadn’t. She was dressed casually, in red capris and a white T-shirt, and was barefoot. She’d twisted her hair up and secured it on top of her head, and with only a minimum of makeup on, she looked like she was sixteen. He took one look at her and her shy smile and had to fight from falling in love with her right there on the spot.

  “I hope this is okay,” she said, motioning to her casual attire when she pulled the door wide for him. “It was so hot today, and when I came home, I just wanted to get into something comfortable.”

  “No problem,” he replied, and hoped she didn’t notice the huskiness in his voice. If she’d guessed what she did to him with just a smile, she probably would have shown him the door immediately. “Work going okay?”

  “Same as always,” she said as she led him into the kitchen, where she already had plates set out and the salad on her small table. “Summers are always hard. The kids want to be outside, and the three weeks they get off in June just never seem to be enough. Especially for my students. They’re easily distracted.”

  “I can understand that. We had nearly three months off in the summer when I was a kid, and I was never ready to go back.”

  “I was just the opposite,” she said as they took seats across from each other at the table. “I couldn’t wait for school to start again in the fall.”

  She’d hated the summers—and her mother’s boyfriends, who never seemed to work. With no effort whatsoever, she could remember the touch of their eyes on her, the way they’d made her feel awkward and self-conscious in her shorts and skimpy summer tops, and all she’d wanted to do was go back to school, where she’d felt safe. But every year, the summers seemed to get longer and longer.

  Pushing the awful memories away, she deliberately brought the conversation around to the reason they both knew he was there. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night,” she said as she served herself a piece of pizza.

  In the process of pouring dressing on his salad, he looked up and arched a brow at her. “And?”

  “I think you’re right. Running away isn’t helping. I have to try something else.”

  When he didn’t push her, but let her tell him in her own time, she was grateful. “This isn’t going to be easy,” she warned. “You have to know that. You could end up hating me.”

  “That’s never going to happen,” he assured her. “We can do this, Rebecca.”

  “Only if we set some ground rules and stick to them. That’s the only way this is going to work.”

  “Name them,” he retorted, “and I’ll agree to them. Just say the word.”

  There was no doubting his sincerity, and that touched her heart as nothing else could. “Thank you,” she whispered, blinking back the sudden tears that stung her eyes. “I just want to make sure that neither one of us has to go through what we did the other night. It wasn’t fun for me, and I’m sure it wasn’t for you, either. So there can be no unexpected hugs or kisses. Surprises scare me.”

  His expression grim, he nodded. “I can see how they would. It won’t happen again.” Studying her reflectively, he asked, “What would have happened if I’d told you beforehand that I wanted to kiss you? Would that have made it less traumatic for you?”

  Surprised, she blinked. “I don’t know. No one’s ever given me fair warning before.”

  “Next time I will. Not that you have to worry that I’m going to try anything like that soon,” he quickly assured her. “And never without discussing it with you first. That might destroy the spontaneity of the moment, but what good is that if you’re terrified? It’s much more important that you feel comfortable.”

  He was so understanding that Rebecca couldn’t stop the tears from filling her eyes all over again. Did he know how special he was? “That might help,” she said huskily, “but I can’t make any promises that any of this is ever going to work.”

  “So, we’ll still be friends,” he promised her. “You will still go out with me, won’t you?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose so.”

  “And you won’t be afraid to hold hands? I do like to hold hands with a woman I’m attracted to. But if the idea of that makes you nervous…”

  Surprised, she had to smile. She wouldn’t have thought he was the type to want to hold hands like teenagers, but she found the idea very appealing. “No, I don’t think I would have a problem holding hands.”

  “Good,” he said, his smile pleased. “Then we’ll take it from there. I can tell you right now, I’d like to kiss you on the cheek at the end of the evening, but I’ll never do it without your permission. From there, we’ll take it one step at a time. Okay?”

  He was a man of his word. Rebecca only had to look in his eyes to know that she could trust him. He wouldn’t push or hem her in or take more than she was willing to give. And for that, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Maybe he was right. Maybe they could get through this together.

  “Okay,” she said with a smile, and held out her hand to shake on the deal.

  When his fingers closed around hers, Rebecca couldn’t explain the feeling that came over her. It was almost like coming home. And for the first time in a very long time, she actually looked forward to the future.

  They watched “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” on TV after dinner and Austin was amazed at the questions that she could answer. “How did you know dipsomania was an insatiable craving for alcohol? And that Fillmore was the thirteenth president of the United States? That’s not the kind of stuff you pick up reading Newsweek.”

  “I like to do crossword puzzles,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “It stretches the mind.”

  “Remind me not to play Trivial Pursuit with you,” he laughed. “You’d kick my butt.”

  “Not if we played the sports edition,” she retorted. “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I don’t know a home run from a touchdown. I was never interested in sports.”

  That didn’t surprise Austin. She’d grown up without a father, and the only men she’d encountered before Joe came into her life as a foster father were alcoholics and lechers who weren’t interested in anything but where the next drink and woman were coming from.

  “So we can take care of that by going to a baseball game sometime and I’ll teach you all about home runs,” he said easily. “In the meantime, I’ve got to go. It’s getting late, and I imagine you have to be at school early in the morning.”

  “Yeah, I do,” she admitted, following him to the front door. “But I had a really good time tonight. I’m glad you came over.”

  “Me, too.”

  Standing in her foyer, Austin stared down at her pretty, upturned face and wondered if she had a clue what she did to him. She was so sweet and natural and totally without artifice. He didn’t doubt for a second that her students adored her, and he could see why. She didn’t seem to realize how attractive she was. After everything she’d been through in her life, she was still open and friendly and giving.

  And he wanted to kiss her. Much, much more than he’d expected.

  Need tightening in his gut, he got a grip on his control and sternly reminded himself that tonight and all the other times he and Rebecca were together weren’t about him. She was counting on him to help her, and by God, that was what he was going to do. So he could just forget about what he wanted. Her needs were the only ones that mattered for now.

  But Lord, it wasn’t easy. Even though the kiss he’d given her the other night had been over almost be
fore it began, he hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to hold her in his arms. Or how soft and enticing her mouth was. Images teased and tempted him, and with a silent curse, he drew himself up sharply. No! He wouldn’t go there. Not now, maybe not ever.

  Forcing a rueful smile that cost him far more than she realized, he said hoarsely, “Thanks again for supper.”

  “You brought the pizza,” she reminded him with a grin. “I should be thanking you. I didn’t have to cook or eat alone. It was fun.”

  “For me, too.”

  There was nothing left to say. A wise man would have gotten out of there while he could, with his promise ringing virtually in his ears. Instead, he lingered and couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Would you mind if I kissed you on the cheek?”

  Her heart thumping crazily, Rebecca knew she should have said no. It was too soon for even such an innocent kiss; she wasn’t ready. But as she looked up at him with wide, searching eyes, she wanted more than anything to be normal, to know what it was like to end a wonderful evening with a kiss—even if it was only on the cheek.

  “All right,” she said, and braced herself.

  His eyes met hers, and in the sudden hushed stillness that fell between them, they both knew just how important the moment was. If she couldn’t handle a simple kiss on the cheek, the agreement they’d had earlier in the evening was all for naught.

  “This isn’t something you need to worry about,” he said huskily as he stepped toward her. “My hands are behind my back, and you’re perfectly safe. All I’m going to do is brush my lips against your cheek. That’s all.” And suiting his actions to his words, he did just that.

  It happened so fast, it was over almost immediately, and all Rebecca had time to do was drag in a quick, soundless breath before he stepped back, giving her plenty of room. “Okay?” he asked. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”