Yours to Savor

by Scarlett Edwards

  “Yes,” Clarisse agreed, “but it was not meant to be. You see, Alessandro’s heart belonged to another. A woman called Mariana. She was his wife of nineteen months. When I met Alessandro, she was already carrying his first child.”

  “Brandon?”

  “Yes. The reason Alessandro did not return to his wife and stayed with me for so long was that he was part of a covert, undercover mission. Governments were coordinating drug busts all over Europe, and their targets were getting angry. If Alessandro went back to his wife, there was a chance he could be sighted and traced. And then, both her life and the life of their child would be endangered.” Clarisse sighed. “He did not stay with me because he loved me. He stayed because his situation dictated it.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Sandra said. “Surely, he must have felt something for you!”

  “Maybe,” Clarisse agreed sadly. “If we had met just two years earlier… but it was not meant to be. Alessandro was a man of the highest moral character. He was never unfaithful.”

  “So then… what happened?”

  “Once I recovered, and after the heat died from the sting operation, Alessandro went back to his family. His wife had given birth to a beautiful baby boy while he was with me in the hospital.”

  “Brandon.”

  “Brandon,” Clarisse nodded. “But you were right. During our time together, Alessandro and I had developed a bond. We stayed friends thereafter. He was the only one I could trust in the whole world. He had seen me through my worst. There was nobody I could speak to as freely as I could to him. But, in time, his wife Mariana grew jealous of our relationship. Even though I respected Alessandro enough never to tempt him with an affair, I never stopped loving him.

  “Perhaps a part of me hoped he would leave his wife on his own terms and come to me, together with his child,” admitted Clarisse. “But I could never act on that desire. I would not be the one to ruin his family. I could not do that to him.

  “We remained close friends. But Mariana’s suspicions only grew worse. Three years later, when she became pregnant with Brandon’s brother, she offered Alessandro an ultimatum: move to America with her, to get away from me, or lose her and his two children forever.”

  “Wow. Was she really that threatened by you?”

  “I’m afraid so. She had family in America, too. Of course, Alessandro went with her, leaving me with no one overseas. He got a job as a police officer quickly enough, but all his accomplishments in Europe meant nothing. He was a green rookie again, starting at the very bottom of the pole.”

  “Did Mariana know that would happen?”

  “If she did, she did not care. All she wanted was to get Alessandro away from me.”

  “Why was she so threatened by you?”

  “I wish I knew. If she knew Alessandro as well as I did, she would’ve known he would never cheat.”

  “Wait. You said she was pregnant again when they left. I didn’t know Brandon had a brother.”

  Clarisse smiled and touched Sandra’s arm. “More than one. He has many siblings.”

  “He never told me that.”

  “There’s pain there for him, my sweet darling.”

  “Oh.” Sandra remembered what Brandon had said about his dark past in Chicago. She wondered what it was. “Did something happen between them?”

  “Yes,” Clarisse nodded, “and he blames himself for it every day. But don’t bring it up before he does. When he’s ready to tell you, he will. And that’s probably more than I should even say on the subject.”

  “So, why did you tell me all that? About yourself, I mean?”

  Clarisse smiled. “Brandon likes you, sweetheart. Very much so. He’s developed quite an affection for you. I’ve known him for many years, and I have never seen him so taken by a woman. Of course I love him, in my own way. I wanted you to know that I would never stand between him and happiness. Between him and… you.”

  Sandra’s heart fluttered with joy to hear Clarisse say those things. She couldn’t believe she thought Brandon would cheat on her with Clarisse. No, this woman was a lot more sophisticated than Sandra had given her credit for. Sandra had never expected to feel a connection to Clarisse. But her frankness about her past made her seem so much more real, so much more… honest. Sandra had enough experience with heartbreak and tragedy to know how they could affect a person.

  “So, what happened to you after? If you couldn’t dance…”

  “I was lost,” Clarisse admitted. “Alessandro was my only friend. When he left, I had no one. I did not know what to do with myself. The men who chased after me before wanted nothing to do with a washed up cripple. Without dance, I was nothing.

  But then… somehow… I rediscovered the passion that had led me to the arts in the first place. Even if I couldn’t dance myself, I still had all my experience and knowledge from before. So, I started to teach. It did not take long for people to notice. They recognized my name, and things grew quickly from there.

  “At first, I worked at a dance school, as an instructor. After a short while, I opened my own studio. The whole time, I continued learning, applying myself to the theoretical aspect of the arts. There was a vacant position at a local university. I applied, and got it. For a hectic year, I ran my own studio, and had evening classes for university students. I stretched myself thin. By the end, I knew I had to pick one and focus on it. Over that year, I discovered how much I enjoyed teaching in a formal setting. So I closed my school, and became a full-time professor.”

  Sandra closed her eyes to follow along. “Okay, I understand that. But if you were teaching in Europe… and Brandon’s family moved to America… how is it that you and Brandon know each other now?”

  “There’s serendipity for you,” Clarisse chuckled. “I was part of a group of professors selected for a teaching exchange program between my old university in Europe and a very well renowned school in America. It was the start of the second semester. I was teaching a history of arts class when a shockingly familiar face showed up in my classroom. He had the same features as a man I knew long ago, but he was at least two decades younger…”

  “Brandon?”

  “That’s right. He looked so much like his father that I almost fainted from shock when I first saw him.”

  “Wait, you were his professor? Then… then how on earth did you become his assistant?”

  “Oh, darling.” Clarisse clicked her tongue. “You don’t still believe that, do you? I thought after everything I told you, and what you’ve seen, you would have… well, never mind. I’m not his assistant. I’m his business partner. As for why you found me on the bed?” She gestured around her. “This house belongs to me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Brandon paced around the bedroom, unable to keep still. He sat on the edge of the bed. A second later, he stood back up. He walked to one wall, turned around, and walked to the other. Waiting like this was killing him. When he peeked out from the doorway, he could see Sandra and Clarisse on the balcony, still talking.

  What could be taking them so long?

  Brandon wanted to do something, anything, but knew things were out of his hands now. He trusted Clarisse. Even so, she did not know Sandra as he did. Sandra was still delicate. Everything could blow up in his face if Clarisse told her something she was not ready to hear—

  A crash behind him made him whirl around. Sandra stood at the door, breathing hard, her face a mask of fury.

  “You lied to me!” she screamed. “I trusted you, Brandon Galliani, and you lied to me like the scheming bastard you are!”

  Oh God, not this shit again… He thought Clarisse had taken her out there to calm her down! But now was no time for regrets. If Clarisse couldn’t do it, he had to—quick. There was no telling what an enraged woman was capable of.

  He raised his arms in front of him, trying his best to look placating. But his mind raced at a hundred miles an hour. What could Clarisse have said? There were so many things he’d kept from Sandra—not beca
use he wanted to, but because he was trying to protect her, protect their relationship until he could figure out the right way to explain things.

  Look at where that very same logic had brought him to now!

  He had to get her in a coherent state of mind before he had any hope of defending any of the myriad of accusations she might have. “Sandra, take a deep breath. What are you talking about?”

  “What am I talking about? I’m talking about her!” She spat the word, and Brandon had no doubt who she meant. Clarisse. But what about her…? “I know who she is to you, you lying manipulative, two-faced asshole! And you had the nerve to have her pose as your assistant! I just can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for it!”

  “Sandra—” Brandon tried to break in, but she steamrolled right over him.

  “First her appearance at the ballet, then the pearl necklace. I should have put two and two together. Her friends in the production company? All of that should have been enough to set alarms off in my head. Her dress, her manner of speaking. Any of it should have told me she couldn’t just be your assistant. But I refused to believe it, refused to see what was right before my eyes. I had faith in you, Brandon! I took you at your word because I believed in your sincerity when you promised you wouldn’t lie to me. But that was all bullshit too, wasn’t?”

  Brandon opened his mouth to defend himself—and stopped. She was right; he was wrong. And he knew it. Maybe if he tried explaining things from his perspective, she could see…

  No. Fuck! He hated himself for lying to Sandra. He hated himself for being so stupid. All of this was his fault. What gave him the great idea to promise her honesty and then renege on the very concept?

  He didn’t know what to say. He could feel the pressure building in his head. A suffocating feeling of helplessness and frailty washed over him. Every heartbeat struck against his chest like a hammer; every breath tightened his throat like a noose. Is this what fear feels like?

  Brandon prided himself on his ability to stay calm under the most stressing circumstances. All his years of dealing had depended on it. But right now, all his confidence had abandoned him. “Sandra, I…”

  He trailed off, unable to form the right words. If only he could find some hint of what Sandra was really thinking behind that dark mask of hers. It was like trying to look through a concrete wall. All he could see in her eyes was rage.

  Usually, Brandon could read people well. Clarisse had taught him to. His business relied on it. But reading people well depended on having a clear head, on being utterly passionless to pick up the subtle things that could betray a person’s true thoughts. But right now, with his heart beating so fast he was almost shaking, and emotions clouding all his judgments… a five-year-old could have done a better job than him!

  He tried to focus, to find some way out of this mess. But, his thoughts were scrambled. An unwelcome flush of heat covered his body. He felt close to panic.

  Sandra glared at him, waiting for an answer. Any answer. But the truth was, Brandon was scared to say anything. He was fucking terrified of losing the woman he was falling in love with. He was standing on a frozen lake, and the ice was cracking all around his feet. Damn Clarisse for whatever she told Sandra! She was supposed to calm her down! And if only she hadn’t been in the house when they returned, like she’d promised him…

  No. He couldn’t blame Clarisse. Confronted by the rage of the woman he was falling for, he could see no option other than honesty. Complete and utter honesty.

  “Sandra, I’m… I’m sorry. I never meant—never wanted—to hurt you.” Brandon squeezed his eyes shut, praying she heard the sincerity in his words. He’d never been so frightened in his life. “I should have… told you. Everything. I know that—what I say now—I know that it can’t… can’t make things right. But if you listen, maybe… maybe I can explain why I didn’t tell you about Clarisse.” Jesus Christ, this was worse than pulling teeth! Every word he said felt like taking a step on that thin ice, and not knowing whether it would hold or not. And even if he could explain things to Sandra about Clarisse, there were so many other things he’d kept from her. He shouldn’t have done it. Somehow, circumstance had ended up dictating things. “Look, I don’t expect you to listen. But if you give me a chance—wait. Wait, what are you doing?”

  As he’d said that last part, Sandra’s expression changed. She’d shifted from boiling mad, to slightly amused, and now, he was certain she was hiding a smile! He wouldn’t have believed it if it hadn’t happened right before his eyes.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, feeling a bit of agitation creep up inside. Just then, he noticed movement by the door. He looked past Sandra’s shoulder, and found Clarisse sneaking in, looking as suspicious as a burglar in the night. “Clarisse?”

  Suddenly, Sandra burst out laughing. Clarisse looked at him, a smile clear on her face, and then joined in, too.

  Brandon stared at the two women in disbelief. When Clarisse put her arm around Sandra, and Sandra didn’t recoil, but only laughed harder, a flash of anger tore through Brandon.

  “What sort of game is this?” he demanded.

  “Oh, don’t be mad with the girl, dear,” Clarisse announced. “This little joke was my idea.”

  “Your idea,” Brandon repeated flatly. He felt like he’d just been run over by a stampede of bulls, resurrected, and then run over again. He looked at Sandra. “You’re telling me this was all a joke?”

  Clarisse answered instead. “Sandra told me about the way she met you. The two of us thought it was high time you got a taste of your own medicine.” Sandra was just starting to control her laughter. Clarisse beamed at her like a proud mother. “You needn’t worry about us, Brandon. Sandra and I have become fast friends.”

  Brandon stared at Clarisse, speechless. He’d learned to trust her over the years, but this stunt was pushing it. On the one hand, he was infinitely relieved she’d patched things up with Sandra. On the other, he was absolutely outraged that she’d thought this joke would be a good idea.

  “You had no right to do that,” he said, low and angry.

  Sandra broke from Clarisse’s grasp to come toward him, but he stepped back. “Come on, Brandon,” she said lightly. “It was just a joke. I’m not actually mad at you. Although I have a right to be, after what I found out about Clarisse. I know she’s not really your assistant. But I can also understand why you had her pose as one before.”

  “I just told the girl I’m your business partner,” Clarisse announced.

  Brandon felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Business partner?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes at the older woman.

  “That’s right,” Clarisse said, not missing a beat, “for our real estate development projects.”

  Relief swelled in Brandon. If Clarisse had told Sandra about their drug operation, then he had no doubt Sandra’s anger would have been real. But it meant that he still had to explain that to her—that he still held secrets from her. He hated himself for it, but knew he had no other choice. Not yet.

  “I thought I almost lost you,” he said, taking Sandra by the shoulders to look her in the eyes. Brandon had never been subject to so many emotions so fast, and he never wanted to experience it again. “You will not try anything like that with me again.”

  “Brandon, relax! We know you have a sense of humor,” Clarisse started. But Brandon cut her off with a violent slice through the air.

  “Never again,” he repeated, focusing all his attention on Sandra. “I will not tolerate jokes like that. Not about my women.”

  “Brandon…” Sandra started softly, then stopped and shook her head. She gazed up at him, those stunning silver eyes a window to her soul. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d take these things so seriously.”

  Brandon could tell her remorse was genuine. “Anything about you I take seriously.” He turned his attention to Clarisse. “And you,” he spat. “You should have known better.”

  Clarisse drew her chin up imperiously. “I w
on’t take that tone from you, Brandon—”

  “You will. You will, and it’s better than you deserve. I want you to leave. Now. I don’t want you back until morning.”

  For a second, he thought Clarisse would argue. They were partners, and he’d never commanded her like that before. But the situation had demanded it. Given all he’d told her about his feelings for Sandra, she should have had the sense not to encourage such a prank.

  Clarisse opened her mouth… and then closed it again, sniffing once before drawing up her shoulders and turning away. “We will speak when I return,” she promised, and walked straight out the door.

  Brandon turned to Sandra. This latest escapade had his blood stirred to a boil, and he knew of only one outlet for it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sandra watched Brandon go to the door after Clarisse left. He shut it, turned back to her, and closed the distance between them without ever seeming to move. Sandra was yanked hard into him right as his mouth crushed hers.

  The angry heat of his kiss made Sandra forget the turmoil of the day. It was nothing like the way he’d kissed her earlier today on the island, or on his boat. There was a fury in Brandon, now, an urgency that was made clear in the aftermath of the ill-advised joke.

  Sandra felt it, too.

  She’d have thought Brandon better humored, considering all she knew about him. But the way he’d reacted to her made-up outrage was like nothing she could believe. The sincerity and the passion in his voice when he told her he didn’t tolerate jokes about his women made her heart melt. His woman. Is that what he thinks of me, now?

  Brandon’s arms hooked beneath her shoulders. He picked her up, and threw her on the bed.

  There, Sandra was assailed by Brandon’s unrestrained passion. The rough way he tore off her clothes, the deep marks his fingers clawed into her back warned Sandra that now, she would pay the price for enraging him.