Escape from Cabriz

by Linda Lael Miller

  She hoped.

  Kristin worked straight through Thanksgiving, making no telephone calls and marking the occasion only with a turkey sandwich from the coffee shop down the street. Although she didn’t allow herself to think about him consciously, Zachary hovered at the edges of her life like a phantom.

  The week before Christmas, Kristin was finally ready to show her work to someone. She’d drafted an extensive outline of her prospective book, and had written the first chapter.

  She called John Claridge, a family friend in the publishing business, and he eagerly agreed to look at her proposal. Of course, that left her with a holiday to face and nothing to keep her occupied until it had passed. Since she was in New York, Christmas was everywhere; the only way to avoid it would be to hide out in her hotel room. And Kristin couldn’t do that, not without the book to absorb her attention.

  She finally telephoned her mother.

  Alice wept with relief. “Kristin! Are you all right? In the name of heaven, where are you?”

  “New York,” Kristin answered, and gave her mother the name of the hotel. “Listen, I was just thinking, well, maybe I could come home for Christmas?”

  “Of course you can,” Alice was quick to sniffle. “What time will your plane be in?”

  “I’ll take a train tomorrow, Mother,” Kristin answered a moment after the idea came to her. “I want some time to think about a few things.”

  “You’ve had phone calls,” Alice told her in the same tone of voice she’d used years before, when Kristin had been full of Christmas curiosity and there were presents hidden all over the house.

  Kristin’s heart leaped out of its normal beat and hammered at the base of her throat. “From whom?”

  Alice hesitated. “Zachary Harmon, for one. He left several numbers. Would you like them?”

  “No,” Kristin said impulsively. “Who else called?”

  As if you cared, her mother’s tone of voice replied. “Just some of your college friends, dear. I’ll tell you all about it when you get home.”

  Zachary’s name buzzed in Kristin’s heart like a pesky bee hovering around a picnic while she packed her clothes and arranged for her computer to be shipped back to Virginia. She had no idea where she’d be going after that.

  All during the train ride the following day she thought about the man who had rescued her from Cabriz. The fact that his parents had been alcoholics explained Zachary’s difficulty with trust and his fear of commitment. It must have been hell, growing up knowing the two people who had given him life were responsible for taking that same gift from others.

  “Oh, Zachary,” she whispered, staring out the window at the wintry countryside. “If I had it all to do over again, I’d change so many things.”

  When the train pulled into the station at Williamsburg, Alice Meyers was there to meet Kristin, looking splendid in a full-length mink coat and matching hat. She embraced her daughter and took her arm, leading her straightaway to the waiting car. The baggage would be sent out later.

  “I haven’t done any shopping,” Kristin mused, seeing that lights and decorations were everywhere. It was a giant commercial conspiracy, and yet she loved Christmas.

  Alice squeezed her arm. “We still have tomorrow,” she said. “Tell me, what have you been doing?”

  “Working on a book,” Kristin confessed. “I gave the outline and the first chapter to John Claridge to read. Now there’s nothing to do but wait.”

  Alice had a mysterious look on her face. “I think there’s much more to do than that, dear,” she answered sweetly. Then she opened the car door and got behind the wheel.

  “What are you trying to tell me?” Kristin asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  Her mother simply shrugged. “Nothing at all.”

  Kristin fastened her seat belt as Alice started the car. “You said Zachary called,” she ventured. “What did he say?”

  The engine roared, and the large car rolled into traffic. Alice shrugged one mink-swathed shoulder. “He asked for your number. Of course, I couldn’t give it to him since I didn’t know what it was myself.”

  Kristin sighed. “It’s just as well,” she said, putting down the springing hope she’d felt at the news.

  Alice said nothing more about Zachary. She simply drove through the familiar streets of Williamsburg and came to a stop in front of the Meyers’s house. There was a funny-looking compact car blocking the driveway, and the lights were burning in Kenyan’s study.

  Kristin glanced in her mother’s direction, but Alice was studiously avoiding her gaze. The two women entered the house by way of a door with an enormous holly wreath hung upon it.

  “We’re here!” Alice cried gleefully, shrugging out of her coat and shaking off the snowflakes. That done, she hung the garment and hat neatly in the closet, and not once did she glance in her daughter’s direction.

  The study doors opened, and Kristin froze where she was. Standing there in the chasm, looking as uncomfortable as she felt, stood Zachary Harmon. He loosened his tie and swallowed visibly as he ran his eyes over her.

  “Hello, Kristin,” he finally said, and his voice was hoarse.

  Kristin’s muscles became mobile again, and she unbuttoned her coat and hung it in the closet with her mother’s. “What are you doing here?”

  He rested his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s one hell of a greeting,” he grumbled as Alice crept past him into the study and closed the doors. “I came to get you—that’s what I’m doing here.”

  A tangle of sensations gushed up inside Kristin like a geyser. “You thought I’d just let you take me by the hair and drag me back to your cave, huh?”

  Zachary loomed above her now, and his hazel eyes snapped with annoyance. “Why don’t you just keep quiet and listen for once?” he barked. “I’m here because I love you, damn it. Because my life isn’t worth a pile of wet seaweed without you. And the least you could do is listen while I tell you I’m sorry I didn’t trust you before!”

  Kristin stared at him, wide-eyed. “Dad admitted he lied?”

  “He didn’t have to. I knew.” Zachary came to her, bundled her into her coat and put on his own. “Come on. We’re going somewhere where we can talk.” With that, he shuffled her out of the house, down the driveway and into the ugly little car.

  “I hope you rented this,” Kristin said. She was in such a state of shock that inanities were all she could manage.

  Zachary tossed her a wan grin. “That’s your first wish, princess. You have two more coming.” He pulled into the sluggish, early-evening traffic typical of the neighborhood.

  Barely able to believe he was really there, Kristin reached out and touched his upper arm. It felt sturdy and solid beneath her fingers and the cloth of his coat. “I love you, Zachary,” she said.

  He laughed, and there was something merry in the sound, a release of old ideas and fears. “Hey,” he protested, “that’s my wish.”

  “Well, I’m granting it,” Kristin replied softly, letting her head rest against his shoulder. “I don’t know if we can make a go of it now any more than we did then, but there’s no question that I’m in love with you. Hopelessly.”

  Zachary’s lips touched the top of her head. “We’ll start with that, then, and work out the rest as we go along. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  Kristin looked up into his face. “I’ve been missing you, mostly. Though I did manage to work up a proposal for a book about Cabriz.”

  He grinned. “I suppose you left out the fact that I can drive you crazy in bed,” he said.

  She laughed and jabbed him lightly in the ribs. “I did leave that out, in fact,” she replied. “But since you also drive me crazy everywhere else, there was no lack of material.”

  Zachary guided the car through the snowy streets, coming to a stop in front of a coffee shop across the street from an historic inn with a boastful sign on the lawn. “That George Washington sure got around,” he muttered as he helped Kristin fr
om the car.

  They entered the coffee shop, which was almost deserted, and took a table at the rear. Once the waitress had brought them both steaming cups of espresso and left them alone again, Zachary reached across the table and took both Kristin’s hands in his.

  “That’s terrific—that you started a book, I mean,” he said gravely.

  Kristin shrugged. “I haven’t sold it, Zachary. And there’s a big difference between starting and selling.”

  “It’ll be a hit,” he said with quiet certainty. “You’re a good writer, Kris.”

  She felt defensive. After all, Zachary had never said a positive word about her efforts, either before their breakup or after they’d gotten together in Cabriz. “How do you know?”

  “I’ve been following your career for the last year and a half, that’s how. Maybe the subject matter left something wanting but—”

  Kristin’s cheeks reddened. “Okay, so I wrote about parties,” she snapped. “The editors wouldn’t trust me with anything but fluff!”

  “Calm down,” Zachary said. “I’m not criticizing you. I really believe this book is your chance to make a name for yourself.”

  She found herself itching to show him a copy of the work she’d done so far. “What were you and Dad talking about when I came in?”

  He sighed and sat back in the booth. “You, of course. He apologized—albeit grudgingly—for lying to me, and I asked him for your hand in marriage.”

  Kristin’s cup stopped midway between the saucer and her lips. “You did what?”

  “You’re an old-fashioned girl, Kris, or you wouldn’t have been sucked into that whole fairy-tale setup over in Cabriz. So I flew out here—after your mother called and told me you were coming—and asked your father if I could marry you. Of course, if he’d said no, I still would have proposed to you.”

  “He said yes?”

  Zachary nodded, a grin lifting one corner of his mouth. “What about you, Kris? Are you going to say yes, too?”

  She hesitated, but not because there was any question in her mind. She was just wondering if this was really happening. “If I do, where will we live?”

  “I like Silver Shores,” Zachary replied. “I have a cozy little beach house there. But if that doesn’t work for you, then we’ll find something else. Now, would you mind putting me out of my misery and answering my question?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, you’ll answer my question, or yes, you’ll marry me?”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you. Gladly. But we’ve got to promise each other one thing—there’ll be no refusing to talk about things—”

  “And no running away from a problem,” Zachary interceded, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows.

  Kristin nodded. “I regret leaving you, Zachary,” she said. “With all my heart.”

  He got out his wallet and laid a bill on the table to pay the check and cover the tip. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Where are we going?” Kristin asked. He hadn’t even kissed her, and her heart was fluttering like a trapped bird. Her body seemed to be opening up to Zachary, preparing for him, and the heat that surged through her was surely glowing in her face.

  “We’re going to buy a ring,” he answered. “And a license.”

  “No storybook wedding?”

  He faced her, his fingers locking gently over her shoulders. “Is that what you want, princess? A white dress and all the trimmings? If it is, we’ll wait.”

  Kristin swallowed. “The last thing I want to do is wait, Zachary. If you don’t make love to me, I’m going to burst.”

  He caught his forefinger under her chin, lifted, and gave her a teasing kiss on the mouth. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m going to love you all night long. But first I want an engagement ring on your finger, at the very least. And some promises have to be made.”

  Kristin looked up at him. “What are we going to tell my parents if we stay out all night?”

  Zachary was helping her into her coat again. “I don’t suppose we’ll have to tell them anything. They’re intelligent people—” he paused to nibble at the side of her neck “—they’ll figure out what’s going on.”

  An hour later the two of them selected a beautiful diamond ring in a nearby jewelry store, and Zachary slipped it on her finger right there in front of the clerk. Then he pulled Kristin close and kissed her thoroughly, while the onlookers applauded.

  By the time they were back in Zachary’s car, Kristin was in a heightened state of anticipation. She looked hopefully at every decent hotel and inn they passed, but Zachary didn’t stop. He drove straight to her parents’ house.

  “I want to tell them we’re getting married,” he explained.

  “But just a little while ago, you said they’d figure it out for themselves—”

  “They would. After going through hell picturing you dead beside the highway because of some accident.”

  Kristin nodded and got out of the car, and she and Zachary linked arms as they walked toward the house. Kenyan and Alice were waiting for them in the entryway.

  “Zachary and I are getting married as soon as possible,” Kristin said.

  Alice looked disappointed. “But I’ve always dreamed of giving you a beautiful wedding—”

  “Great Scott, Alice,” Kenyan interrupted, “can’t you see they’re hardly able to wait as it is? The kind of shindig you’re thinking of takes months to prepare.”

  Kristin went to her mother, took both her hands. “We could still have a formal wedding, if it means so much to you. But there has to be a ceremony soon.”

  Kenyan’s eyes widened, and he looked at Zachary with renewed rage. “By God, Harmon—”

  “I’m not pregnant, Dad,” Kristin said. Then she glanced back at Zachary. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “Just how soon would you two like to be married?” Kenyan asked.

  “Tonight,” Zachary answered without a moment’s hesitation.

  “I suppose that could be arranged,” Kenyan said, his expression thoughtful. He had lots of friends in high places, naturally, and a simple marriage license would not be hard to expedite. His gaze turned to Kristin. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded.

  “Very well, then,” Kenyan responded, extending a hand to Zachary. “I hope you and I can let bygones be bygones, Harmon. I love Kristin, and I want her to be happy.”

  Zachary shook his future father-in-law’s hand. “There’s something we agree on,” he said quietly.

  The ceremony was performed an hour later, in Kenyan’s study, by a very distinguished judge who had also arranged for a special license. There were flowers from the greenhouse, and Kristin wore the same lacy, romantic dress she’d worn when she’d danced with Zachary at that long-ago Christmas party.

  The slight flush on his face and the sparkle in his eyes told Kristin he remembered not only the dress but the episode on the pool table as well.

  Kenyan took pictures with his personal camera, and Alice severed fruitcake in lieu of wedding cake. When the Meyerses were satisfied that the occasion had been duly celebrated, Alice said with a sniffle, “I’ve had the guest house prepared as a honeymoon cottage. If you need anything, just use the intercom and someone will see that you get it.”

  Zachary loosened his tie again, and Kristin felt his fingers tighten around hers. “Great,” he said.

  A few minutes later he carried her, laughing, down the snowy, slippery walk to the guest house and over the threshold. Inside the one-bedroom cottage, there was a fire blazing on the fieldstone hearth, and a bottle of Kenyan’s best champagne was cooling on ice.

  Zachary gave a teasing growl, then covered Kristin’s mouth with his own, still holding her in his arms. She whimpered as a fire kindled deep within her and then grew hotter with every passing moment. Her arms tightened around Zachary’s neck, and her tongue sparred with his.

  Finally, with a gasp, he tore his lips from hers, carried Kristin into the bedroom and dropped her unceremoniously on the bed.
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br />   Kristin’s heart beat faster as she watched her husband undo his tie and toss it aside, then shrug out of his suit coat. A tremor went through her. “Is this the part where you love me all night long?”

  “This is the part,” he replied, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “I hope you’re in top shape, princess, because you’re about to get a workout.”

  Kristin kicked off her shoes, but that was all the undressing Zachary would allow her to do. He took off her stockings personally, kissing each of her knees as he bared them, then tossed aside her voluminous petticoats. After that, he lifted her to her feet long enough to divest her of the dress, and she was naked before him.

  She reached for the fastener on his slacks, but he caught hold of her hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing the palm lightly, then flicking it with his tongue.

  Kristin drew in a harsh breath, and her eyes drifted closed. “Zachary…”

  He lifted her, just as he’d had to carry her to the guest house, and raised her high enough that he could take one of her nipples into his mouth.

  Kristin cried out and arched her back, making herself more available. Zachary took her to the rug in front of the fireplace, enjoying her all the while, and laid her gently on the floor.

  She stretched as she watched him open his trousers and remove them, held out her arms when he lowered himself to her side. The light of the fire danced over their bodies like some sort of pagan blessing.

  “I love you,” Zachary whispered, his lips tasting the length of Kristin’s neck even as his hand deftly separated her legs.

  She gasped with pleasure when she felt one of his fingers burrow in to prepare her. “And I love you—oh—so much—oh, Zachary…”

  He chuckled, nuzzled her breasts, boldly captured a nipple. “Umm?” he asked, suckling at the same time.

  Kristin writhed as he clasped her moist mound in his hand and slipped deft fingers inside her. The heel of his palm moved against the sweetest secret of her womanhood. “Love me—oh, please—love me now! You have all night to tease!”

  Zachary nudged her legs apart with one knee and cradled himself between them, his fingers still working their singular magic. He bent his head and touched one of her nipples with his tongue, training it to pebble hardness. “You shock me, Mrs. Harmon. Are you asking me to consummate this marriage?”