by Debby Conrad
She heard him swallow thickly. “I swear to you, Hollin, I don’t know how it got there.”
“I know. I believe you.” She touched her lips to his throat. “Before I showed up on your doorstep earlier, I’d gone over all the details of that horrible night.”
“And?” he prompted, massaging her arm and shoulder.
“And there was no pocketknife lying on the ground that night. I remember Deputy Barnes pointing to where he’d found it. At the time, I could barely look at the area where . . .” She sighed. “All I know is that after it was over, I had stared at those lilies and there was nothing on the ground beneath them but dirt.”
They lay together in silence for a few minutes, then Griffin pulled the covers up around her, his fingers lightly touching her hair. The sun was coming up. She could see the lake’s reflection bouncing off the sliding glass doors, which led to a wooden deck. The wind howled, but the sound of the waves rolling into shore was soothing.
She lifted her head, looked at him thoughtfully. “Whoever hurt me that night is still out there.”
Griffin met her gaze, took her face in his hands and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Listen to me, Hollin. No one is ever going to hurt you again. Not as long as I’m alive to protect you.”
She believed him. And his reassurance allowed the sleep to come she so badly needed. When she opened her eyes several hours later, Griffin was gone.
#
Hollin drove home shortly after noon, wearing the sweater Griffin had loaned her under her trench coat. She parked the car in the drive and was about to enter the back door when Neil Thorpe stepped from behind a bush.
Startled, she brought her hand to her throat, and at the same time dropped her keys on the brick walkway. Her heart pounded in her chest. “Neil, what are you doing here?”
He bent over to retrieve her key ring, and for the first time she noticed the bald spot at the top of his sandy blond head. So much for him not aging.
“I was waiting for you to come home.” He closed in on her, handed her the keys.
Hollin took them, then retreated hastily. “Why?”
“What are you wearing?” he asked, his gaze glued to the front of her body.
At the tone of his voice, a shadow of alarm slipped into her senses, and she immediately closed and belted the coat around her. “Neil, what is it you want? You can’t keep dropping in on me like this.”
His gaze traveled slowly up her body to her face. “Josephine said you were upstairs asleep when I got here over an hour ago. But when she went to wake you, you were gone.”
“I left early this morning. I took a drive,” she said defensively, even though it was none of his business.
“Are you seeing someone else?” he asked, looking as if she had betrayed him.
“Someone else?” she mocked. Anger and fear singed the corners of her control. Could Neil have been the one who’d hurt her that night? She sucked in a breath and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Who I see and where I spend my time is none of your business, Neil. I’d like for you to leave.”
“But, Hollin--” He reached for her, managing to touch her elbow before she jerked away from him.
“Don’t touch me. And don’t ever hide in my bushes again.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought I’d stay out of sight in case you weren’t alone when you came back.”
Hollin tried to swallow the bile building in her throat. “Neil, please stay away from me. Don’t drop in, and don’t call me.”
“Hollin, please,” he said, looking like a young boy about to cry. “Have you any idea how I feel about you? Griffin Wells is a pig. He hurt you. I can’t believe you’re still talking to him.”
She gasped, a shiver of panic shooting through her insides. “Have you been watching me? Following me?” She jabbed her keys at his chest, and he moved back a step, raising his hands defensively in front of him.
“No! It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t following you. I was--”
“Stay away from me. The next time you come anywhere near me I’m calling the sheriff.”
She bulldozed her way past him, charged up the back steps and into the kitchen.
“Hollin, wait! Listen to me!”
Hollin slammed the door shut and flung herself against it. “Oh my God,” she whispered, dropping her keys and purse on the floor. Thoughts that Neil could have been the one curdled her stomach. Heaving, she ran up the stairs to her private bathroom.
She told herself to calm down, to be rational. Because she had pointed the finger so quickly thirteen years ago, Griffin had spent three years in prison for a crime he hadn’t committed. Did she really want that to happen to someone else?
She didn’t like Neil. He gave her the creeps. And he’d been following her. But those weren’t reasons enough to think he may have raped her. Or were they?
#
Griffin had just disconnected from his third phone call in five minutes, when Frannie buzzed him. “Sorry to bother you, but there’s someone here to see you,” she said, her voice so low it was almost a whisper.
“I’m really very busy at the moment,” he said, distracted with looking for a set of drawings he’d had only minutes ago. “Does he have an appointment?”
“No, and it’s not a he, it’s a . . . she.”
Griffin waited for his secretary to announce the woman’s name, but she didn’t say anything more. She simply hung up the phone, leaving him with no choice but to go see for himself who it was waiting to see him. “I don’t have time for this shit,” he mumbled, getting to his feet. He opened his door and peered out into the reception area.
Frannie glanced up at him with an apologetic look on her face. Her frizzy, burgundy hair clashed with her plum suit. Griffin followed her gaze to the small sofa across the room.
Hollin sat perched on one end, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck and secured with some kind of clip. She stared up at him and blinked.
He hadn’t seen her since the morning he’d gone to work and had left her sleeping in his bed. That was three days ago. He hadn’t bothered to change the bedding, loving the lingering smell of her against his pillowcase and sheets.
He’d thought about leaving her a note that morning, had gone as far as picking up a pen and notepad, but then changed his mind. What could he have written that wouldn’t sound corny? Instead, he’d been hoping she’d simply call, or stop by, but he hadn’t heard a word from her. And it had annoyed him.
“Hollin,” he said. From the corner of his eye, he could see Frannie’s fingers dancing frantically at the keyboard. On the monitor was a bunch of gibberish. She was obviously pretending to be busy working, when she was really listening in.
The woman he’d gotten to know so well over the past three years loved to gossip, and he had a feeling she would be on the phone with a friend as soon as he and Hollin stepped into his office. It was a good thing she was so damn efficient, or he would have said something. Not wanting to offend her, he let it go. The poor woman had been married for close to thirty years, when her husband announced he was leaving her for one of his twenty-year-old college students.
Hollin stood, smoothed the wrinkles from her prim, navy blue skirt and jacket. “Hello, Griffin. I apologize for not calling first but I’d like to talk to you, if you can spare a few minutes. It’s business,” she added, her gaze flashing quickly to his secretary and back.
“Sure. Come on in,” he said, then turned his attention to Frannie. “Hold my calls, please.”
GW Construction was located in the center of town. They occupied the first floor of a century-old house he’d renovated. The place was unique in that each room had a woodburning fireplace and the original hardwood floors, crown moldings and trim. The local newspaper had even written a story, complete with photos, when he’d opened his office here. A real estate broker was renting the upstairs.
He closed the door once Ho
llin stepped inside and was about to offer her a seat when he noticed both chairs were covered with blueprints. “Sorry,” he said, gathering the rolled tubes from one chair to make room for her. “Spring is the busiest time around here.” He set the tubes atop the ones in the opposite chair, then went around to sit behind his desk.
She was still standing.
“Sit down,” he said, thinking maybe she was waiting to be invited to sit.
“Thank you.” She licked her lips, glanced around the room and finger combed her bangs. She set her purse on her lap and smiled. “This is really charming. You’re very talented.”
She was making him nervous with all her politeness. “Thanks. Drink?” he asked, starting to stand.
Shaking her head, she said, “No. Thank you. I just stopped by on the off chance you’d be available to see me.”
Griffin rolled his chair back a few inches and crossed one leg over his knee as he studied her. “And, as you can see, I was available.”
“Yes, I can see that.” She bit at her bottom lip.
Uncrossing his leg, he sat up straight, irritated with her. “Jesus, Hollin, just say what’s on your mind. You don’t want to see me again? Fine.”
“No, that’s not it.” She fumbled with a button on her jacket.
“So, you do want to see me again?”
She glanced up then averted her gaze. “Yes. I mean, I don’t know.”
She didn’t know? Which could only mean one thing. “You changed your mind about my innocence?”
“No.” She faced him head on.
“No? But you think the other morning was a mistake.”
“Stop it! You’re confusing me. Making me nervous,” she said. “This is embarrassing, and hard for me.”
“Hard for you?” He gave a short laugh. “Frannie out there is probably on the phone right now telling everyone she knows that you’re in my office.”
Her eyes grew huge. “She knows about . . . us?”
“Everyone in town knows about us,” he said. “Although she hasn’t come out and asked me about the rape conviction, I assume she’s probably heard all the details from someone at some time.”
Hollin blew out a breath. “How could you come back here to a town who must have hated you?”
“It wasn’t easy. The alternative was to move somewhere else and try to make a new start. That was my original plan until I realized as a convicted rapist I had to report in with the authorities upon arriving. How long do you think it would have taken for that kind of news to spread through town? Any town?”
“I’m sorry.”
He believed she was truly sorry. The big question was, could he ever forgive her? Could he put it behind him, once and for all, and move on? Could he ever let himself fall in love with her? Or was he dreaming?
She picked at her button again then looked up at him. “I went to see Sheriff Tyler yesterday. I wanted to clear your name, set the record straight.” She frowned. “He said there isn’t anything I can do unless I have proof. I told him about the things I remembered, and he practically laughed in my face.”
Shrugging hopelessly and with little effort, Griffin said, “It’s done. You can’t change that. Neither can I.”
She leaned forward in her seat. “I know I can’t change the fact that you went to prison, or what happened to you in there--”
“Hollin,” he said, raising a hand to stop her. “I don’t know what made me tell you about that the other night. Maybe because I was so angry with you. I guess I wanted you to know what you had cost me. But it’s not something I can talk about again. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” She lowered her gaze to her lap.
He got to his feet, went to stand by the window and stared out at the street. It was much too quiet considering the clear blue sky and abundance of sunshine. Then he turned around to face Hollin. She was still staring at her lap.
He’d meant what he said. They couldn’t change the wrongs that had been done, no matter how hard they tried. He’d been a fool to think they could actually have a relationship.
“Look, I appreciate your trying to clear my name, but you’re obviously wasting your time. We can’t go back.” He paused. “I’m assuming the reason you came here today is because you realize that too. So, I’ll say it first. The other night was a mistake.” Part of him wished he’d never kissed her, never touched her. The other part of him was dying inside, knowing he very well may never kiss or touch her again.
Her gaze snapped upward to stare at him, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. She always wore her emotions on her face. And that face told him she was relieved he’d been the one to say it first.
“I see.”
Or maybe he couldn’t read her as well as he’d thought.
She picked up her purse from her lap and stood, her shoulders and back ramrod straight. But instead of heading toward the door, like he’d assumed she would, she came to stand directly in front of him. Close enough he could smell her scent. She slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I don’t like people making assumptions about me. Don’t pretend to know what I want or how I feel.”
Griffin stood there, staring at this pint-size woman who was threatening him. Damn, but she was beautiful, and she confused the hell out of him. “What is it you want?” he finally asked.
“I think you know.”
“I wouldn’t want to piss you off by assuming. Tell me.”
“I already told you what I wanted the other night.”
Sex? She was bluffing, he was sure of it. “Tell me again.”
She lifted her chin a notch and stared him down. “What are you afraid of?”
“Me?” He straightened his posture, feeling defensive.
“Yes, you. Are you afraid of what the people in this town will think if they see us together?”
“No.” Beneath the navy jacket she wore a white blouse buttoned up to the neck. Griffin wanted to undo all those tiny buttons, open her blouse and bra, and feast on her breasts. He lifted his gaze from her chest to her face and saw her staring at him. He was at war with his emotions but decided to come clean. “Yes, I’m afraid,” he finally admitted. “Of you, of this town. I’m afraid of being a failure.”
He turned his back on her and stared out the window again. “I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am today, and it doesn’t mean a damn thing. People still think of me as dirt. A trailer trash punk who got a lucky break. It’s like they’re waiting for the walls to come crashing down on me. For me to turn into the monster they still believe I am. Hell, sometimes I feel the same way. I mean, who am I trying to kid? Owning all that land, building condos around the lake, renovating these old houses, doesn’t mean anything.”
He took a moment to catch his breath. “The things that can truly make a difference in a man’s life, give it meaning and purpose, aren’t supposed to happen to me. It’s just the way it is. So, I don’t waste a lot of time thinking about what I can’t have.” Except for when it comes to you.
She touched him, placed a hand on his back, her fingers scorching him through his shirt. He spun around, practically knocking her off balance. “Do you want to know what I’ve been thinking about the last three days?”
She didn’t answer, just stared up at him with those innocent eyes, wide and questioning.
“I’ve been thinking about you, and how goddamned brave you are.”
Blinking, she said, “I’m not brave. I’m terrified. Of you. Of whoever it is that hurt me. Of having a normal relationship with a man.”
“You’re talking about a sexual relationship.”
Her face flushed with color. “Yes.”
“And yet you stood in my house and asked me to make love to you. That took guts, Hollin. Was it really me you wanted? Or was I supposed to be some kind of guinea pig? A test? An experiment?”
She bit at her lip, as if she were digesting his words, thinking of a response. “I don’t honestly know.”
It wasn’t the answer
he’d hoped for, but he supposed it was the best she could do. Still, it irked him. “I don’t want to be used, by you, or anyone else. I’m not going to be some experiment for you. Got that?”
Swallowing, she nodded slightly.
“I told you what I wanted. When I fuck you, I want you to know it’s me inside you. Not some invisible man you’ve dreamed up. I’m not going to be gentle, and I’m not going to whisper sweet little nothings in your ear.” He waited for his words to sink in. “You’ve got me so hot and bothered, I’d like to toss you on my desk and fuck you right there.”
Watching her chest rise and fall, he heard the choppy breaths coming from her lungs. She looked at him with anticipation and fear. He’d shocked even himself with the crude way he’d talked to her. He had a feeling she was about to turn and walk away.
He was wrong.
Instead, she stepped into his arms, took his face in her hands and kissed him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Standing on tip-toe, Hollin touched her lips to Griffin’s, lingering, savoring, waiting for him to respond. And then finally he crushed her to him and devoured her mouth.
He tugged at her skirt, hiking it high on her thighs so he could push his hand beneath. She loved the touch of his fingers rough against her skin, could hear the tiny snags as his palm brushed over her pantyhose.
One hand found her breast. The other kneaded her bottom, pulling her to his erection. Jolts of electricity zinged through her veins and reached low in her belly. She moaned helplessly against his mouth. The thought of making love to him terrified her to the core yet she still wanted him so badly.
His lips left hers to shower tiny, hot, moist kisses on her cheek, earlobe and neck. They were moving, backward. She was on a soft, wispy cloud, being transported to a place of seclusion and quiet.
And then her butt hit the desk, and her eyes flew open. He hadn’t been serious about tossing her on the desk, or had he?
Griffin hiked her skirt to her waist and lifted her to sit on the warm mahogany, insinuating himself between her legs. Her purse dropped from her shoulder, making a dull thud when it hit the hardwood floor.
