Truths and Roses

by Inglath Cooper

  Will shook the doctor’s hand. “I would never have come if it weren’t for Hannah. You’re right, though. And I guess now that I’ve been handed the ball, it’s up to me to run with it.”

  A few minutes later Hannah and Will left the building. They’d remained silent in the elevator. But no sooner had they cleared the building’s revolving doors than Will grabbed her by the waist and proceeded to swing her in a circle, shouting, “I’m dyslexic! I’m dyslexic!”

  She threw back her head and laughed. “People will think we’re crazy!”

  “Not crazy. Just happy. Can you imagine somebody being happy to learn he’s dyslexic? But I am so relieved, Hannah. I can’t tell you how much. All that stuff he said, it was like he looked inside me and told me exactly what I’ve been feeling all these years.”

  His expression became serious. “It’s like having a door opened and being able to look inside and see what I thought should have been there all along. I can’t tell you how it feels to know that I’m not stupid. I always felt like I had what it took to do as well as anyone else. But then every time I tried to take a test….”

  He reached down and pulled her up against him, hugging her fiercely. “I owe it all to you. If you hadn’t called this doctor, I might never have known.”

  “That’s not important,” she said gently. “What matters is that you can start taking the necessary steps to correct it.”

  “And I have hope. I can’t tell you how that makes me feel.”

  Her heart was full. “You’ll do it. I know you will.”

  “We can’t go home tonight. There’s too much to celebrate.” He stepped back and, keeping her hand in his, started toward the Cherokee.

  “Will, wait!” she protested, pulling him to a stop. “We didn’t bring any clothes—”

  “I’d hoped we might end up staying,” he admitted. “I brought a few things just in case. We’ll buy you whatever you need.”

  Common sense told her to object. But she hesitated, the desire to stay with him overruling all doubt.

  He took advantage of that hesitation. “Come on, Hannah. We’re going to do this town right.”

  Chapter Fifty-six

  ‘Right’ began with valet parking at the Willard Hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue. Hannah protested as he led her through the front doors to the lobby. “We can’t stay here. It’s too expen—”

  She broke off as he marched toward the registration desk and asked for the best suite available. The clerk recognized him immediately and set out to make sure that whatever Mr. Kincaid wanted, Mr. Kincaid would get.

  “Ah, yes, sir, we have a wonderful suite available for you. Two adjoining rooms with en suite bathrooms and a nice parlor in between.”

  “Will-”

  But Will nodded and took the key from the clerk. “Sounds perfect.”

  “Glad to have you with us, Mr. Kincaid. Take care of that knee, huh?” he added as Will and Hannah headed toward the elevators.

  “Will, this is way too much!” She was still searching for a good reason why they shouldn’t be here when he stuck the key in the lock and opened the door. But as soon as she saw the room, arguing was the last thing on her mind. “Oh, Will. Look at this!” She stood back in awe and let herself take in the opulent surroundings. A sitting room served as the focal point of the suite, complete with a wet bar and two comfortable-looking couches. Straight ahead, a window allowed for a magnificent view of the city. And to either side of the room lay a bedroom, one for each of them.

  “No more protesting, all right, Hannah? Let me spend a little of the money I otherwise have very little use for. I’m taking you out tonight.” He picked up the phone and asked the concierge to recommend somewhere exceptional for dinner. He then asked where they might go shopping. He listened for a moment, then hung up the phone and, grabbing Hannah’s hand, headed for the door.

  Before she could catch her breath, they were back on the elevator, heading through the lobby and out the doors to hop into one of the taxis lined up outside the hotel.

  “Union Station,” Will told the driver.

  “Sure thing.” The driver tipped his hat and started out into the traffic.

  “Hey, aren’t you….” The driver peered at them through the rearview mirror, rubbed his chin and said, “You’re Will Kincaid. Hey, you guys beat the devil out of my hometown team this year.”

  Will’s face crinkled in a smile. “Yeah, we did, didn’t we?”

  The driver laughed and slapped his hand on the front seat. “Mario won’t believe this. My son’s a big fan of yours. Wants to play football someday. Got time for an autograph?”

  “Got a pen?” Will asked.

  “Sure thing.” The driver handed him the pen and a piece of paper, simultaneously honking his horn and whipping around a slower-moving car.

  Will signed his name and handed the paper back to him. Soon they came to a stop in front of Union Station. He opened the back door and slid out after Hannah, leaning back in to say, “Tell Mario to get an education first. The rest will come.”

  A monstrosity of a building, Union Station had been renovated to serve not only as a train station but a shopping mall, as well. Swinging through the front door, Will set off for the escalators with Hannah in tow.

  The first store he pulled her into was one she would never have gone into alone. Most of the shop consisted of wall space rather than clothes. It followed, according to Hannah’s speculation, that the prices of everything would be astronomical. She didn’t have to look at the tags to know she was right.

  “Why don’t we look somewhere else, Will?”

  “This looks just right.” Seeing her reluctance, he said, “Let me do this for you, Hannah. I want to. Look what you did for me today. Please. Just let me do this.”

  Still, she hesitated, but he took her hand and led her inside where he immediately pulled a dress off the rack, holding it up to judge for size. “Six. Sound about right?”

  She nodded reluctantly.

  “Here’s another,” he said, sounding like a little boy on his first expedition through a candy store. “This would look great on you.”

  She frowned. “It’s red. I don’t usually wear red.”

  His look dared her to try it. “You were the one who said there’s a first time for everything. You’d look great in red.”

  By the time the sales clerk led Hannah to a dressing room, she had at least eight dresses draped over her arm. The clerk hung them up and sent Hannah a look of envy as she said, “Let me know if you need anything.”

  Hannah tried the red one first, and stealing a glance in the mirror, had to admit she looked like a different person in it. A little puffed at the top, the sleeves hit just above her elbow. The neckline scooped low in front, just covering the tops of her breasts. The waistline curved in and then rounded out to fall in a straight line from hip to knee.

  “Come on out, Hannah,” Will called. “I want to see.”

  She peeped around the corner and, seeing no one else in sight, stepped out. The sales clerk had provided her with a pair of black heels, and Hannah teetered a little as she walked across the rug.

  He stared at her for a moment before saying, “Wow.”

  “Will, this isn’t really me,” she protested. “I don’t think-”

  “Whoever it is, I’m taking her to dinner tonight. You look incredible.”

  When she saw the admiration shining in his eyes, she wanted to look like the kind of woman Will Kincaid would take to dinner.

  “Go try on the rest,” he ordered in an oddly tender voice.

  Hannah obeyed and Will’s reaction to each was similarly flattering. But he liked the red dress best of all, and before she could protest further, he instructed the clerk to ring it up along with the shoes, three sets of lingerie, a pair of cuffed black pants and a tailored white blouse, just in case she needed them.

  “That was much too extravagant,” she chastised him as they headed out of the store and down the escalator.

  �
��It’ll be worth every penny to see you in that dress.” He took her hand and descended the escalator steps at a brisk pace. “Let’s get going. We’ve got a full night ahead of us.

  Will had made the dinner reservation for nine o’clock. Hannah took a shower and fussed with her hair, pulling it back, then letting it down again. There were hairpins strewn across the dresser while she stood in front of the mirror, glaring at herself in frustration.

  On this, of all nights, she wanted to look beautiful. For this one special evening, a single slice of time out of sync with what constituted their normal lives, she would have what she’d only dreamed about. Will would be leaving Lake Perdue soon. Today’s outcome with Dr. Edwards had made that a certainty. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms about herself. It would not last forever. But she wanted this night. How very much she wanted this night.

  In the end, when Hannah slipped into the red dress, her hair fell to her shoulders, shiny and full. The dress fitted perfectly, and the sheer black stockings were smooth against her calves. She stepped before the mirror and blinked, not recognizing herself.

  Red. Imagine that. On a woman who’d existed in navy and forest green for the last ten years.

  Would he think her beautiful? The answer mattered far too much for her own good.

  She stared at herself and marveled at how far she had come in the months since Will Kincaid had returned to Lake Perdue. So much had changed. A year ago, she never would have imagined herself wearing such a dress.

  Will had made her care. Made her want to impress him. He’d awakened anew all those feelings she had thought long since gone.

  But they were back. With an intensity that frightened her. Anticipation tumbled through her. It had been a magical day.

  What would the evening bring? What did she hope for it?

  On that question, she turned away from the anxious face in the mirror, as if in her own eyes she might find the answer.

  A few minutes later she stepped into the sitting room, her hands clasping and unclasping as she took in the sight of Will standing before the window.

  Her eyes lingered on the back of his head, the tousled dark blond hair, the strong athlete’s shoulders. His legs were long and firm beneath charcoal-gray suit pants. He was, without a doubt, the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

  He swung around, caught sight of her, opened his mouth to speak and then went silent. His voice cracked when he finally said, “I knew you’d look like that.”

  The words were soft, sincere. Heat flooded Hannah’s veins as she raised her eyes to his. “I feel conspicuous somehow.”

  He moved forward and tilted her chin up with one finger. “You should. You’re conspicuously lovely.”

  To Hannah’s surprise, he leaned forward and brushed her lips with his, a feather-soft caress, unexpected, yet no less devastating in its effect. Her eyes closed. Her breath made a funny little noise in her throat. She savored the crisp, clean tang of his aftershave.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes, feeling like a butterfly slipping loose of its caterpillar shell. The smile on his face made her weak with an emotion that was altogether unsettling.

  The tone of the evening was set. On this April night, Hannah Jacobs felt special in a way she had never felt before, and she marveled at being the center of this wonderful man’s attention. His gifts touched her, the red dress, the beautiful hotel room. But what pleased her most of all was the intent behind them and the pleasure he took in giving them.

  A black limo sat waiting outside the hotel for them. In Lake Perdue, climbing into such a car to go to dinner would have felt ridiculous. But in this city, it felt appropriate. And she felt a thrill as Will helped her into it, like Cinderella climbing into the magic coach. He slid in beside her and gave the driver instructions before raising the glass partition between them.

  Hannah glanced at her surroundings, a little awed by the opulence. “You shouldn’t have done all this.”

  “I wanted to.” He popped the cork from a bottle of champagne, and then passed the crystal glasses for her to hold while he poured. He set the bottle down in the ice bucket and raised his glass to hers. “A toast. To our evening together. A special evening.”

  Hannah clinked her glass against his, then raised it to her mouth, giving the champagne its due, letting it caress her tongue and glide down her throat. Proper. Appropriately appreciative. But then she took another sip and the bubbles tickled her nose. Watching her, Will began to laugh, and she soon joined him.

  They drained their glasses, gazes still locked in amusement. Will pushed a button, and a panel in the roof slid back. He stood up and reached for her hand, pulling her up beside him.

  “Will! What are we doing?”

  “Seeing the city.”

  They stood there, heads and shoulders sticking out the opening, laughing and teasing as the night wind blew at their hair. The car swung right at a light and hit a pothole, jostling them into one another. They collapsed back into the seat, weak with laughter.

  When their laughter abated, they leaned back, each with a shoulder in his or her own corner, staring at one another, a face-off of sorts. It was one of those moments when words were unnecessary.

  She met his eyes, acknowledging in that moment that the attraction she felt for him was mutual. She saw it in the way he looked at her, the way the pulse at the side of his neck raced at a faster rate than his fit body would have demanded. Desire surged through her, giving her a high much greater than the champagne could.

  Will reached for her, pulling her across the seat until she sat still as a statue before him. She was aware that it would take no more than the smallest of gestures for her to sink into his arms.

  “You missed a drop,” he said, lowering his head and letting his tongue flick across her lips, “right there.”

  Hannah’s breath expelled softly, and she closed her eyes. His touch was a little like jumping into the lake on a hot summer day. The body yearned for it, yet somehow feared the submersion at the same time. Even when the outcome was so satisfying.

  “Hannah?”

  Her eyelids fluttered open. “Hmm?”

  “You know where this is headed, don’t you?”

  She looked past him, focusing for a moment on the city lights slipping past outside the limousine window. Then she met his questioning gaze with eyes that acknowledged—and acquiesced.

  “I want us to have a good time tonight,” he said in a low caressing voice. “To enjoy each other. But this isn’t casual. Don’t ever think this is casual.”

  She glanced down at her hands, shaking her head as she said, “It could never be that.”

  He trailed a finger along the line of her jaw and then let it come to rest on the fullness of her lower lip. “Just wanted to make sure we had that straight.”

  The limousine braked to a stop in front of Michael’s, the restaurant where Will had made the reservation. He helped her out of the car, then leaned back in to tell the driver that he would call him when they were finished.

  Hannah took Will’s arm as he led her into the darkened foyer where the wonderful aroma of fresh bread and simmering sauces filled the air. She blinked once as if to bank the emotions swirling with such intensity inside her. The last thing on her mind was food. She felt as though she’d been shot full of some nerve-sensitizing drug, and every pulse, every heartbeat, had become magnified.

  They took the waiter’s suggestion and ordered the special. But dinner was only a prelude. She sensed Will knew that as well as she did and suffered through it as one might an appetizer when the entree has been announced as filet mignon.

  Hannah dropped her fork three times. Will spilled first his water, then his red wine.

  By the end of the meal, her nerves were shot. And when they were surrounded at the doorway by autograph-seeking sports fans on their way out of the restaurant, Will displayed less than his usual graciousness.

  They both remained silent in the car on the way back. Will had left the divider glass down,
almost as if he didn’t trust himself to raise it.

  At the hotel, Will helped her out of the car, then removed his hand from her arm and kept a good two feet between them as they walked through the lobby. In the elevator she assaulted herself with a dozen arrow-sharp questions, all aimed inward. What am I doing here? Did I really think clothes and makeup would make me into a woman Will would desire?

  As soon as he inserted the key in the lock and swung open the door, she headed straight for her bedroom. When he said her name, she stopped.

  She closed her eyes and hesitated before turning to face him.

  “Come here, Hannah.”

  She focused on the wall behind his right shoulder. “I think I should go to bed now.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She blinked and took a step back.

  He crossed the room and took her arm, tilting her chin up with one finger. “What’s wrong, Hannah?”

  She studied his face, cherishing the high cheekbones, the somehow vulnerable hollow just below, the strong jaw now clenched. “Ah, you’ve been so quiet. I thought—”

  He didn’t let her finish the sentence. Instead, he let out a low groan and pulled her to him, burying his face in her soft hair. “Hannah, I’m sorry. I just…I was afraid if I looked at you one more time in that car, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

  Her head flew up.

  “It’s true,” he said in a low husky voice. “You’re…beautiful. I wanted this to be a special night. And I haven’t been able to think of anything other than getting you back to the hotel. I’m sorry if I ruined everything.”

  She smiled at him, astonished that she could have had that effect on him. It would be one night. No promises. No thoughts of what tomorrow or the next day would bring. His own words echoed in her mind. You’re twenty-eight years old, Hannah. You’ve got a life to live.

  “You mean that? About not being able to think of anything-”

  “Yes,” he interrupted with an indulgent grin. “I really mean it. Why don’t you let me prove it to you?”