by Sara Daniel
“I’m sorry,” Luciana offered, sorry he’d gotten hurt, not upset he hadn’t married someone who hadn’t deserved him. Had he ever mentioned her name to his fiancée or told her about their baby? Or was she his dark, ugly secret he didn’t want anyone to find out about?
Chapter Four
“So, you still live here with your parents and brother? I expected you would have….” Blake hesitated, not wanting to insult Luciana. She’d acquired strength of spirit over the intervening years but also an aura of sadness. She used to smile and laugh. The few times her lips curved, the joy didn’t reach her shadowed brown eyes.
“Grown up? Moved out? Gotten a life of my own?” she supplied. “I had my own apartment when I was in my early twenties. I took some college classes and had a job in Des Moines. Mama worried about me living on my own but not married. Then Papa had a bad farming accident.” Her eyes clouded, and she paused.
“How bad?” Wanting to offer comfort and support even though he was years too late, he reached for her hand.
Her fingers trembled beneath his. “The tractor rolled and pinned him under it. The doctors kept him in a coma for four months hoping he’d make a recovery, but he was gone.”
“God, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Why would you? It’s not something that makes the national news.” She flashed a watery smile. “Anyway, with Alejandro in the Marines, Mama asked me to come home to help her with the farm.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
She pulled free from his touch. “Whoever said life was fair?”
He couldn’t argue. If life were fair, they never would have split up.
“I don’t know if you remember,” Luciana continued, “but Mama’s lived with diabetes for a long time. Over the past couple of years, she’s dealt with quite a few complications, including surgeries on both her eyes. Yesterday, her doctor admitted her to the hospital so he could monitor her kidneys.”
“I’m sorry.” The words rang hollow and inadequate in his ears, and he wished he could offer something more substantial. “Sounds like a rough time.”
She laughed without a shred of humor. “Rough is a good word.”
“So, you’re here while she’s in the hospital?” As much as he wanted to spend the evening alone with her, he wouldn’t keep her from visiting her mom.
“Somebody has to milk the cows morning and night. I’ll see her the day after tomorrow and can be at her side within an hour in an emergency. Trust me, this is becoming routine for us. We got lucky this time with Alejandro home on leave to stay with her and fill me in on medical updates.”
Blake glanced around the outdated kitchen, beginning to understand Luciana’s life. Instead of a kid still living with her parents, as he’d first assumed, she’d taken over both sets of responsibilities and balanced an oppressive weight on her slim shoulders. “How often does your brother come home?”
“When he can. Sometimes it’s better if he stays away.” Her mouth tightened. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m content to be the good daughter and take care of my mother and carry on my father’s legacy. It may not be a spectacular life like yours, but I can hold my head up with honor.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. I want to rescue you,” he admitted, longing for the adoration that used to shine from her eyes.
Instead, she glared at him. “So I can feel indebted to you for the rest of my life? No thanks. The only time I waited for you to rescue me, you never came.” She stabbed at her last bite of food, as if the omelet had personally wronged her.
“Your parents forbade me to come.” And he’d decided she hadn’t wanted him around either.
“But I needed you. I lost our baby, not theirs.”
His throat swelled. They should have had a baby together. They should have been a family. Less than a week after they’d learned of the pregnancy, she’d miscarried. He hadn’t had time to think of the person they’d created as a child before it was gone, too small to have left any physical reminder. He abandoned his silverware and reached across the table for her. “Luciana, I am so—”
She held up her hand. “You’ve had plenty of time to track me down if you wanted to apologize or talk about it. Don’t force words you don’t mean because I cornered you. My fault for bringing it up.” She rose to her feet. “Do you want an apple empanada from the freezer? They’re not quite as crisp as when they’re fresh from the oven, but close.”
“No.” He wanted to steer the conversation back to the baby and the fact that he’d never seen her after the miscarriage. Her parents had kept her locked in the house, refusing him entrance. With graduation behind them, he couldn’t even run into her at school. Without the responsibility of impending fatherhood, he’d cut his losses and left town, deciding she would be better off without him. After all, she had her parents to take care of her.
She reached for his empty plate, but he covered her fingers on the dish. “I’ll take it to the sink. You don’t have to wait on me.”
Once again, she pulled away from his touch. “You cooked, so I’ll clean up.”
He stood and faced her. “How about we do the dishes together? I’ll wash and you can dry and put them away.”
Her lips curved, and her shoulders relaxed. “You were always good at compromises.”
“Not good enough if I couldn’t come up with one to make your parents happy and keep us together.” He slid his palms up her arms, cupping her shoulders, regret coursing through him again.
“Oh, Blake.” She leaned into his chest. “We all share the responsibility for what happened.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, absorbing her warmth and sweetness and, for the moment, her trust. With his lips pressed to the top of her head, he inhaled her strawberry-scented shampoo.
Tipping her face up, she studied him with sober eyes. At last he understood why his engagement to Caroline hadn’t worked, why no one he’d dated had been “the one.” Because Luciana had already claimed the honor. His heart had always been reserved for her alone.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she whispered.
That they needed to kiss, letting it segue into making love in the kitchen then in the hall against the wall then in her bed? Yes. Absolutely.
“That we shouldn’t kiss,” she continued, “because if we do, we won’t want to stop.”
“We need work on getting in sync with each other because your reason is an excellent argument for why we should start kissing.” Dipping his head, he brushed his lips over her eyelids and down the crest of her nose.
“I missed you,” she admitted.
His chest ached. He’d missed her, too. So damn much. Until he’d held her again, he’d had no notion of the lack in his life.
Rising on her tiptoes, she touched her lips to his. He braced his hands on her waist, but she didn’t need his support. She’d acquired both physical and mental strength while they’d been apart.
He sank into the fullness of her warm, sweet mouth, hanging onto her as if she were a mirage from his dreams he needed to savor before it vanished. Instead, with each passing second, she became more real, more alive.
He pressed his tongue against the seam of her lips, and she yielded, meeting him. His head spun with desire and memories. Gripping her tighter, he backed her against the counter. Wanting to take in everything at once, he smoothed his palms over her cheeks, down her shoulders, and along her T-shirt and then up to tangle his fingers in her thick black hair.
As a teen, she would spread her hair along his skin as she pressed her ear to his chest, creating an ultimate peaceful moment. No one else had ever taken an interest in the beating of his heart. But every detail had mattered to her, and he longed for evidence something still mattered.
Coasting his palms over her rounded breasts, he reveled in her gasp. Sheer pleasure of her sweet, unguarded response coursing through him, he kissed his way down her chin and along her neck.
Lifting her head, she allowed him ac
cess to her bare skin, fueling his desire. Despite him abandoning her in her most vulnerable moments, she opened to him again. He would honor the opportunity, so it ended with good memories instead of regrets.
He didn’t belong on an Iowa farm, and she had too many responsibilities to leave. But the more he touched and kissed her, the more he couldn’t deny a part of him would always belong to Luciana.
Luciana moaned, arching against Blake as he skated his hands under her shirt and cupped her breasts through her plain white bra. He took her from innocent to full-throttle in a heartbeat until she longed to rip away their clothing and let him draw her nipple into his mouth. After he sucked until she cried out, she would open his pants, drop to her knees, and give his cock the same attention.
Instead, she clasped his chin and lifted his head until he focused on her. “We’re going too fast. We don’t know each other anymore.”
His blue eyes blazed into hers, hot and fierce. “Not touching each other in fifteen years is fast?”
“You know what I mean.”
“We need to make up for lost time and rediscover each other.”
If only recapturing their lost years together could be so simple. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her tongue with his. His hardness wedged against her pelvis, the heat from his body transporting her to a realm of heady pleasure.
But those fifteen years were gone. They couldn’t make up for them. They couldn’t wish the time away with enough kisses or pretend they hadn’t changed from the kids they’d been.
Older and wiser, she had the necessary tools to protect against accidental pregnancy, but she still didn’t have a clue how to apply the same protection to her heart.
She savored the sweetness of his kiss for another long minute then pushed him away with firm gentleness. “We have to stop.”
“Says who?” He nipped at her lip.
“Me.”
“Why?” Nibbling some more, he coaxed her to continue kissing him.
She steeled against the urge to give in. “You can’t swing into my life, have a quickie with me, and then sail out for another decade or two.”
“I have no intention of making this a quickie. We have all night.”
And then what? She’d reopen her heart to him so he could break it all over again when he left? She didn’t have anything to offer a CEO on a long-term basis. Heck, she couldn’t even give as much as she had as a teenager when she’d come to him with nothing. Her responsibilities to her mother and the farm came before she could consider sharing a part of her life with anyone else.
“We’re not going to make love. We’re going to do the dishes,” she said, summoning all the authority in her voice to drown out her desire. “Afterward, I’ll show you to Alejandro’s room where you can spend the night. If you don’t like that plan, you’re welcome to call for a taxi.”
“Works for me,” he agreed. Instead of retreating, he placed his hands on her hips and sidestepped, gliding her along the edge of the counter with him until they stood at the sink, her back to it as she faced him. He reached around her and turned on the faucet.
“You can’t do dishes with me standing in your way.” Her intention had been to put distance between them, not play sexy games.
“Watch me.”
If she ducked under his arm, she could end the sensual tease before it started, but he left her too mesmerized to move.
Leaning his upper body against hers, he reached for the dish soap, dumping a generous amount into the basin. “Now, I’m going to scrub in a circular motion.”
Exaggerating his movements, he washed the plate behind her back, rubbing his chest against her breasts and his hips against her pelvis.
“You have way too much rhythm and coordination for your own good,” she whispered, her nerves on sensory overload, her nipples pebbled and aching.
“It’s for your good, too.” He leaned in and kissed the side of her neck.
A breath away from melting in his arms, she turned her back on him and stared into the sudsy basin. By concentrating on the dishes, she could prove disinterest in his seduction even as her body betrayed her.
His sharp intake of breath along her neck destroyed her plan. His erection pressed against her ass through their clothing, driving heat to pool between her thighs.
He lifted his hands from the soapy water, gliding them over her chest and dampening her T-shirt.
“Blake,” she begged, both for more and for him to be the sensible party.
“Don’t worry. I can get these wet clothes off you.”
In spite of her intention to resist, she smiled. “Do women fall for that line?”
“You tell me. I’m using it for the first time.” He peeled her shirt up, planting a line of kisses along her back above her bra strap.
Oh, yeah, she fell for everything he cast her way—dove for it.
Shifting her hair to the side, he kissed her neck. Her eyes stung from the reverence in his caress.
She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, then turned to face him again. “I want to see you while you kiss me.”
“Luci.” He whispered his old nickname for her with a groan. Gathering water droplets from the faucet, he tipped his palm against her chest. The stream trickled into her cleavage, and his eyes dilated.
She’d never experienced anything so sexy. Despite her earlier intentions, she became desperate for more of his sensual teasing.
“Do it again.” She unhooked her bra then peeled it off and tossed it aside. Her breasts ached for his touch. “Please.”
Gaze serious, he dribbled another cool stream of water down her cleavage. Then he caught the flow in his palm as it reached her navel and slid a damp trail over her nipple.
She arched into his touch. The heat of his skin and cool wetness traveled straight to her core, igniting her.
With his index finger, he placed a single droplet of water on her other nipple then bent his head and touched the tip of his tongue to it. After a lingering moment of anticipation, he circled his tongue around the bud then drew it into his mouth.
She gripped the edge of the counter behind her, reveling in the sensual contact. If she touched him in return, she’d rip his expensive clothes trying to get her hands on his skin. But oh, how she’d missed not just the caresses and heady desire coursing through her but the adoration and physical interaction with a man she loved.
Tears filled her eyes, and she couldn’t stop them from overflowing.
He lifted his head and stroked his thumb over her damp cheekbone. “Luci, baby, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head but couldn’t speak.
“You said no. I’m sorry. I got carried away.” Expression stricken, he stepped back, reaching for her clothes strewn across the table.
“No, it’s not you.” She wrapped her arms around him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. She welcomed everything he’d given her. But she also wanted so many things he would never give her, things she could never accept if he did offer.
Her mother needed her. The farm needed her. Blake didn’t. She would never have a happily ever after with him.
Chapter Five
Blake finished the dishes with grim efficiency while Luciana put her shirt on and hurried out of the room. Outside, the wind blew strongly enough to make the old farm buildings groan and creak, leaving him grateful not to be on the corporate jet enduring turbulence at thirty thousand feet.
“I put fresh sheets on Alejandro’s bed and set out clean towels in the bathroom for you,” she announced, returning to the kitchen, her T-shirt still damp with his handprints.
She’d explained she didn’t want to sleep with him and didn’t want to kiss. But just like when they were kids, when he pressed, she denied him nothing.
He would not take advantage of her. He’d honor her wishes and would not let her regret his detour into her life. “Thank you. I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble.”
“No trouble.” She squeezed he
r knuckles against her fist. “I’m the one sending mixed signals by saying one thing then doing another. I didn’t expect you, and I haven’t done a good job of pulling myself together.”
He frowned. He hadn’t meant to traumatize her. “What do you mean?”
“I never really got over you,” she admitted, the simple words shattering his heart. “With mourning our baby, it took me a while to realize you were gone and even longer to understand you were never coming back. By the time I’d managed some space from my parents to contact you, your parents had sold their store and left town. I didn’t have any way to reach you—no phone number, no address.”
“I abandoned you when you needed me most, and you think I’ll do it again.” Worse, he would. He couldn’t ask his assistant to cover his deadlines and work obligations indefinitely.
She shook her head, sadness and determination in her gaze. “No. You won’t do it again because I won’t let myself need you that much ever.”
Unable to refute her, he picked up a sponge and began wiping the counter. A massive crack split the air outside. He looked out the window as a large dead tree fell alongside the barn.
“What was that?” Luciana joined him at the window, her torso pressing against his side as she strained to see.
“A big tree. You’re lucky it didn’t fall on a building.” With his hands on her waist, he scooted her closer so she had the right angle to view the fallen debris. “The wind gusts tonight are incredible.”
Her body turned rigid. “No.”
He released her. “Sorry, I—”
“No!” Instead of shouting at him, she stared in horror out the window. Without glancing in his direction, she dashed out of the house.
Assured she hadn’t run from his touch, he followed to help her fix whatever mayhem the tree had caused. Maybe she had to mend another fence.
