by Jo Leigh
“What do you mean?”
“He shouldn’t have looked at your journal, but I don’t believe he was playing you for a fool. I think he fell in love with you, just like you fell in love with him.”
“Donna, what happened? Why are you saying this?”
“I saw him. Two days ago. He was at that cyber café you like so much. I went there with this guy I know from class, and, anyway, Jay was there and he didn’t see me. Amelia, he looked so miserable. Not sick or anything, but all the stuff that was so incredibly hot about him, I don’t know, faded. I ended up talking to this guy Brian. When I told him who I was, he asked me to ask you to please reconsider. He didn’t know what had happened, and Jay won’t talk about it, but Brian hadn’t ever seen him like that.”
“Whatever he’s going through is his own fault. He brought this on himself.”
“I know.” Donna pursed her lips for a moment. “I just have one question for you, and then I’ll drop it.”
“What?”
“Why did you write your journal online if you didn’t want anyone to read it?”
JAY FINISHED READING the letter from the admissions office at NYU. He’d been accepted for the program without much fuss; they’d gotten his transcripts from Cornell and that had paved the way. He’d be starting next semester.
The temptation was to toss the letter, to forget about school. But he wasn’t going to do that. Whatever else had happened during his time with Amelia, he’d made some decisions about his life that he wouldn’t abandon. He’d watched her face her fears, look at who she really was, and she’d stepped out on that fragile limb of change. How could he do less?
It didn’t matter a damn what his father thought of him. Jay had to make his decisions about his future for himself. When he wasn’t thinking about Amelia, his focus went to this dilemma. After all the excuses and reasons, it came down to some very simple truths. He missed writing. He wanted to do it again, even though he wasn’t sure he could. He loved the shop but it wasn’t the answer. At least, not the only answer.
He didn’t know if he’d end up teaching, or what. It didn’t matter. As long as he was taking one step at a time, being honest with himself, and open to the experience, he couldn’t lose. If it meant his father accepted him, great. If not, he’d live.
That’s the thing. He’d live. After losing Amelia, it hadn’t seemed possible, but the days kept passing and he just kept on. He missed her like hell. Yet he sold bikes, shot pool, read the paper.
Always, she was there, in the quiet moments, in an unexpected sound. She was there, and it didn’t seem likely she’d ever go away.
AT TWO-TWENTY in the morning, Amelia opened the first letter. She sat curled up in the big living room chair, a cup of peppermint tea on the table beside her. The others were asleep, and the city was oddly quiet.
Her fingers shook as she pulled the letter out of the envelope. She started crying before reading the first word.
Dear Amelia,
I’m sorry. I know that’s pitiful, and it doesn’t mean anything but it’s true. I’m sorry that I was a fool, that I took advantage of you, that I breached your privacy. But I also know I’m not sorry. Not sorry I met you, that I got to know you, that we spent time together.
I am in love with you. You probably won’t believe it. I would gladly spend the rest of my life proving it to you. It’s no justification, but I honestly didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. Not at first, anyway. Even before I read your journal, I saw something in you. A spark hiding behind your blush. I wanted to know that Amelia. I wanted her to come out and play. I used the wrong means, but it would have been infinitely worse not to have known you at all.
You’re the bravest, kindest, most loving person I’ve ever met, and when I’m with you, I want to be brave and kind and loving.
Maybe, someday, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. When, if, you do, I’ll be here.
I love you. Please believe that, if nothing else. I love you.
Jay
As tears rolled down her cheeks, she thought about all that had happened. It had been a few weeks, that’s all, and yet she’d become someone new. She’d blossomed like a rose from his tender care. She’d found what she’d been looking for, asking for, in her journal.
She’d once written that she wished someone would see her. Would see the truth of her behind her facade. And that’s exactly what Jay had done.
Donna’s words had haunted her all night. Why had she written her journal online? And why was she so hurt when all Jay had done was answer her prayers?
She folded the letter and reached for the next one. She read them all, most of them twice. And then she knew what she had to do.
JAY PUT DOWN HIS CUP, puzzled. Something had shifted. He’d be hard-pressed to say what. Electrical, somehow. As if lightning were going to strike.
He looked at Brian, but his friend was still glued to his computer. No one else in the café seemed to feel it. He kept expecting the sensation to pass, but it just got stronger.
The door opened, and he turned, but the glare from the sunlight blinded him momentarily. It wasn’t until the door closed again that he saw her.
Amelia.
His heart thudded in his chest. Standing, he took a step toward her, then stopped. What if she didn’t realize he was here? What if she saw him and bolted?
Not yet. He needed her to stay a little longer. He’d thought he memorized every detail about her, but now he saw how ludicrous that was. Her hair had more red in the soft waves. He’d gotten her skin tone all wrong, and her lips. How could he have forgotten the plush pink?
He knew her body as well as he’d ever known another human being, yet staring at her now he discovered her all over again. He ached for her like a starving man yearns for bread. He finally identified the shape of what was missing in him.
“Amelia.”
Even though he’d whispered her name, she found him, met his gaze. A moment passed where he couldn’t breathe, but then she headed toward him.
He cataloged every part of her. The coat, blue, one he’d never seen. Beneath that, just a strip visible, a green sweater to match her eyes. The jeans she’d worn that last night.
He waited until she’d come half the distance of the café, then he walked toward her, praying this was the miracle he’d never dared to hope for.
The closer he got, the more vulnerable she appeared. Clearly afraid, she didn’t let it stop her. Not for a second. Then she was in front of him, an arm’s length away. For a long time, they stared into each other’s eyes, remembering. He wanted her more than he could stand. He wanted to say the right thing, to get every nuance perfect so he wouldn’t screw up again.
Her lips curved into a slight smile. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I thought we should talk.”
He nodded.
“Want to go for a walk?”
He didn’t trust himself to say any more. Instead, he headed for the door, and she fell in beside him. Having her this close made him crazy to touch her. To kiss her. But he hid it all. He had to know what she was going to say.
They stepped outside to the unseasonably warm November afternoon. The crisp, clean air shimmered with the low sun. There were people and cars and buses and signs, and he didn’t see any of it. Only her.
She led him down the street, away from his shop, to Washington Square Park. Pigeons fled before their footsteps, and a man with long gray hair played classical guitar for dollar bills.
There was an empty bench away from most everyone, and that’s where they sat. Her knee touched his.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking,” she said. She pressed her lips together, looked at him, then away. But her gaze came back before she spoke again. “I don’t like what you did. It wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t nice.”
He nodded, his hopes sinking like lead weights in a pond. “I know that.”
“I don’t know what your motivation was, what you hoped to achieve. All I know fo
r sure is what I was when I was with you. I changed. And not just outside. The clothes, the makeup, none of that matters. The important thing is that I stopped hiding. I came out of darkness, the lonely prison I’d built all by myself. You saw me. And because you saw me, I was able to see myself through different eyes.”
He wanted to speak, but he waited. If he had to, he’d wait forever. Just to be near her.
“But I had to look at my part in this, too. I know enough about the Internet to understand that nothing is truly private. Especially at a site like TrueConfessions.com. It’s designed for peeking, for reading private thoughts. So why wouldn’t you look? Granted, I’m still not sure how you figured out Good Girl was me, but it doesn’t matter. I could have written a private journal, but I didn’t. I wanted you to read about me. Not that I knew at the time it was going to be you, but Jay, you’re exactly what I dreamed about.
“I’m not talking about the pen trick, or how you knew about the Guggenheim. It goes much deeper than that. You helped me see that I was worth fighting for. That I didn’t have to hide. I fell in love with you because of who you are, not because you knew I wanted to ride on a Harley, but because every time you looked at me, I felt special. I felt needed, and wanted, and sexy and so much more. You were so easy to fall in love with.”
She paused and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you want. And it scares the hell out of me to tell you what I want, but I’m going to. I’m going to put it all out there because with you, I can risk everything. And I can’t expect to hear the truth from you if I’m not willing to speak it.”
He opened his mouth, but she shook her head.
“Not yet, please.”
He actually felt grateful that he didn’t have to speak. He wasn’t very sure of his voice.
“I want to get past this. I want to be with you. I want to love you. I want you to love me.”
That was it. There was no more. It was his turn.
AMELIA KEPT HER HANDS in her pockets, tightly fisted to stop the shaking. She’d done it. Said it all. And waiting for him to speak was torture.
But even if he passed, even if he laughed, she’d know she’d done her best. She’d know she could walk through fire. What an incredible gift.
He looked at her for a moment, then he sighed. “I don’t understand what I could have done to deserve you.”
Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop them.
“I’ve had that same month to think,” he said. “And I’m not all that sure I’m sorry. If that’s what it took to be here, then I have no regrets. The only thing I would have changed is that I hurt you. I never want to do that again.”
He cleared his throat, searching for the right words. “You’re not the only one who’s changed. I’ve had to look, really look, at who I am and what I’m doing with my life. I’ve started writing again, and I owe that to you. I’m going back to school. I don’t know what’s going to come of any of it. I might fall flat on my face. But I’ll have tried. You make me brave. And strong.
“I want to get past this. I want to be with you.” He leaned forward and brushed her lips with his own. “I want to love you, Amelia. Forever.”
He stood, and so did she, falling into his arms. He kissed her then, and because there were miracles, it was the same kiss, only now it was stronger, sweeter. He held her tight as the kiss went on and on. And the world outside their small circle disappeared.
Epilogue
Two years later…
AMELIA OPENED THE BOOK to the flyleaf. She read the dedication again, even though she’d read it a dozen times.
To my beautiful bride, Amelia, for more than I can ever say. I love you.
And to my father, for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself.
She handed the book to Jay, then turned to her father-in-law. “I’m glad you made it, Lucas.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it.” He looked her over from head to toe. “I hope you’re taking good care of my grandchild.”
“I’m reading her Shakespeare every night.”
“Hmm,” Lucas said. “I understand Mozart is good, too.”
She smiled and ran her hand over her belly. Four months along, and already huge. But she didn’t mind. Not at all.
Jay signed the book for his father and handed it to him. “Thanks, Dad. For everything.”
Lucas cleared his throat. “I’m proud of you.”
Amelia studied her husband’s expression. The reconciliation between father and son was too new to take for granted. But Jay smiled. Nodded.
She sighed, looking at the incredible turnout for the book signing. Jay had sworn no one would show up, but she’d known better. The reviews had been astounding, and he’d had an excerpt in the New Yorker.
None of that mattered nearly as much as the fact that Jay had done it. He’d struggled and fought and cursed and quit a hundred times, but in the end, he’d finished the book.
She’d never been so proud of anyone.
He touched her hand, and she turned to smile at him. “What?”
He shook his head without saying a word. But she knew exactly what he meant. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He sighed.
It was perfect.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8239-5
SENSUAL SECRETS
Copyright © 2002 by Jolie Kramer.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Visit us at www.eHarlequin.com
