“I’m sorry,” I mutter, brushing them away. “Sometimes I get emotional.”
Finn turns my way, his beautiful face shining light onto mine. He cups my tear-streaked face in his hands. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says softly.
Though I try blinking them back, the tears keep coming. So close to me, I can feel his warm breath heat my soaked cheeks. His eyes burn into mine, the sparks between us palpable. Almost visible. My heart flutters like a hummingbird as a rush of desire pulses between my legs. I want him so badly I can taste him. Then, without warning on my next blink, he leans into me, and still cradling my face in his palms, he reads my mind, sinking his lips onto mine. He gnaws and sucks them, slowly, tenderly, and I submit, having wanted this kiss for so long. It’s everything I remember. Sensual. Possessive. Generous. All-consuming. My body grows slack, melting into him, as if a lightning bolt has hit me. Fireworks explode behind my sealed lids as he deepens the kiss, pulling on my hungry lips with his teeth. Biting down on them. My lips part and he plunges his warm, velvety tongue into my mouth, the wine-laced taste of him making me drunk with both need and desire. Our tongues dance as if they’ve known each other forever (oh my God, they have!), mine chasing his as it sweeps through my mouth. Moans gather in the base of my throat like musical notes, mixing with the percussion of my thudding heart.
I can’t get enough of him.
Then, suddenly, as if someone has pulled a plug, the music stops. His tongue disappears.
CHAPTER 34
I pull away as fast as my lips captured hers. Fuck. What the hell did I just do? I’m almost two months engaged with a wedding around the corner and I just kissed my daughter’s teacher. And what’s worse, I more than liked it. Everything about the kiss felt so delicious, so familiar. Like our mouths have known each other forever. She melted right into me, willingly, and I could tell from her sexy sounds and breathing she felt everything I did. I wanted more of her in the worst way, so badly an erection strained against my jeans as my tongue tangled with hers. I’m still hard as a rock. Make that steel.
Catching my breath, I drop my hands from her face and stare at her. She looks shell-shocked. Her porcelain skin flushed, her kissable lips still parted, her misty eyes frozen wide. Her breathing, harsh like mine, her perfect breasts quivering with each labored breath. Her eyes stay fixed on me, finally blinking. As if she’s trying to make sense of what just happened.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe out, not knowing what else to say. Shit. What came over me? But to be blatantly honest, I want my lips back on hers, her body in my arms so badly I can scream. Between my legs, my cock is throbbing. Aching for more of her.
Silently registering my two lame words, she continues to breathe hard. The rest of her is paralyzed. I’ve probably given her some kind of anxiety attack. Her glistening lips start to tremble, but words don’t form. A panic button goes off inside me.
“Are you okay?” My heart races as I anxiously await her response.
Finally, after a few seconds, she nods. And one word is whispered. “Yes.”
“Scarlet, please forgive me.”
Sliding my legs off the coffee table, I hastily fold my arms over my lap to cover up my erection.
“I didn’t mean to assault—”
She cuts me off, her face softening. “You didn’t. You kissed me. And I let you.”
At her tenderly spoken words, relief washes over me. Her words reconfirm what I felt. She wanted my lips on hers. She could have fought me off, but she didn’t. She let me deepen the kiss with my tongue, hold her face in my hands.
Despite my relief, I falter again for an excuse. “Honestly, I don’t know what got into me. It was totally impulsive.”
“Yes, it was impulsive.”
“I got carried away.”
“Me too.”
Her eyes drop to the coffee table, landing on our empty bottle of Merlot and depleted glasses. Then, they wander to my crotch. Her brows lift ever so slightly, suggesting she knows what I’m hiding. I cringe with embarrassment before she snaps her head up.
“It must have been the wine.”
“Yeah, for sure the wine.”
She quirks a half-smile. “It was really good.”
“I can open another bottle if you want more.” Almost instantly, I regret my offer. And my double entendre. I’m asking for trouble. I’m already drunk enough with lust for this woman. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m engaged. She works for me. With my kid! She’s totally off limits.
Forbidden.
Fortunately, she declines my offer. The smile on her face fades and is replaced by a sober expression. Her voice grows quiet and serious, and under it, I can detect uncertainty and a hint of regret.
“Finn, I’m going to call it a night.”
I remain silent as she rises from the sofa. I study her face; she looks to be verging on tears again. Unsteady, she sucks in a breath like she needs to fortify herself.
“Finn, let’s forget this ever happened.”
And with that she stumbles away, leaving me bereft and confused.
Slouching against the couch, I throw back my head and blow out a hot breath. It does nothing to clear the fog in my head or the tension between my legs. The throb in my cock, the ache in my balls.
Let’s forget this ever happened.
Easier said than done. I can’t stop thinking about her.
As the flaming logs in the fireplace crackle, I relive that kiss, that incredible kiss, and seek the relief I crave.
CHAPTER 35
Quiet stills me; darkness blinds me. I don’t know what time it is. All I know, I haven’t been able to fall asleep.
Closing my eyes with the hope that sleep will claim me, I keep reliving that kiss. That earth-shattering kiss. The kiss of all kisses. I wanted him so badly. Like an animal in heat. I don’t think he noticed, but I had to sit on my hands as his mouth ravaged mine so I wouldn’t tear off his clothing, rake my hands all over his body, and then clamp my fingers around his cock—oh, that magnificent cock—and bury it inside me.
A mad rollercoaster of emotions whirls through me.
Confusion.
Sadness.
Guilt.
Regret.
Desire.
Lust.
Loss.
Love.
How much longer can I keep up this masquerade? This charade?
But I have no choice. If I reveal my identity, their lives may be endangered.
And now, he’s engaged to another.
Plus, he thinks I’m married.
Maybe I should leave him. Them.
But how can I go on without them? Let my husband share his bed with that dragon lady? Leave my precious daughter in her wicked claws?
The ache in my heart competes with the ache in my core.
Tomorrow, I have another day off. Sunday. First thing in the morning, I’m going to call the one person who can help me. The one person who can help me see the light. When the road ahead is uncertain. And so dark.
CHAPTER 36
“Thank you, Sister Marie, for meeting with me on such short notice.”
“Of course, my dear. Anything for you.”
Clad in her black and white nun’s bib, we’re sitting side by side on the bench where we always sat. The rehab center’s park-like grounds are still under the spell of summer. Beneath the mid-afternoon sun, the leaves of the trees glimmer like emeralds, the surrounding flowers and shrubs like other precious gems.
Patients, dressed in bathrobes, stroll by. Many escorted by nurses, others on their own. Some are in wheelchairs. Memories of my time here swirl around in my head. Three and a half years of recovery. With bumps in the road and mountains to climb. Sometimes, it was so painful, so exhausting I wanted to give up. But Sister Marie, God bless her, never let me. She made me persevere, always telling me there was a light at the end of the tunnel. That some people get new hearts; others new limbs. A few like me, new lives.
“We miss you,” she says, cutting in
to my mental ramblings.
“I miss you too. How’s Sally doing?”
Sally is an inpatient who was abused by her husband. He almost beat her to death.
“She’s progressing beautifully. She’s strong enough to testify at his trial.”
I smile. “That’s great.”
“What about you?”
I answer with silence. I let the choir of chirping birds around us fill the air.
“Something’s wrong.” She knows me so well.
I nod.
She tenderly cups a warm hand on one of mine. “Tell me, my dear.”
I collect my thoughts like someone frantically gathering their treasured possessions at the onset of a fire.
“Finn . . . ”
“What about Finn?” She knows all about my husband.
“He’s my employer. I’m working for him. I homeschool his daughter.”
“You mean your daughter.” If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. “How wonderful!”
“No, Sister, it’s not wonderful. Sometimes it’s closer to torture.” A pregnant pause. “He’s engaged to another.”
Sister Marie nods pensively. “I see.”
“I want to quit. Go some place far away from them.”
“And leave the man you love? And your beloved daughter . . . when God has sent you to them?”
I nod again. My head stays bowed down in shame. I make my confession.
“Last night he kissed me. It was a fluke thing. But he ignited a fire inside me. A fire I can’t put out.”
Tears rise to my eyes. Spilling onto my lap, they can’t extinguish my pain. Or despair.
“My dear, look up. Please listen to me.”
My eyes still watering, I do as she asks. A heart-wrenching story unfolds. A revelation I’m not prepared for. I listen sans interruptions. Sister Marie was in love once. With her high school sweetheart. They made love. She lost her virginity. He was drafted. Vietnam. She got pregnant. Her mother, a strict Catholic, forced her to keep the baby. Instead, she secretly got an abortion. Her mother found out and disowned her. He came back. Except with his new, beautiful Asian wife-to-be.
Absorbed in this sad saga, close to tears, I ask, “What happened?”
“I gave in. I didn’t fight for him.”
“Why?” I ask softly, feeling her pain.
“I was too insecure. Not strong enough. I turned to God, the only man I thought who could love me. Save me. Forgive me.”
Silence, then she breaks it.
“Skye, my dear. You are a much stronger woman than I was. You valiantly fought for your life and won. Now, fight for your man. Make him fall in love with you again.”
I fidget with the locket around my neck.
“How do I do that? I can’t compete with his fiancée. He’s beholden to her. She’s given him everything. Single-handedly made his career.”
“But you gave him a child. And your heart.”
I suck in a lungful of air. “She’s a powerhouse. Manipulative and possessive.”
“Just be yourself.”
“But I’m such a different person.”
“People don’t change that much. Especially on the inside.” She pauses. “He’ll come back.”
She glances into the horizon. “Fate is God’s way of dealing cards. You’ve been dealt your hand. Now, my dear, play it to your advantage.”
Gripping her sturdy hand, I watch as the fiery August sun dips into the mellow turquoise sky.
I came here with my heart filled with despair.
I’m leaving with hope.
I hug Sister Marie, ready to begin a new leg of my journey.
CHAPTER 37
Determined and optimistic, I head back home. The drive along the 101 from Santa Barbara to the edge of Malibu takes less than an hour. The sky darkening as I pull into the driveway, I muse how I already think of Finn’s compound as my home. Where I belong. With my husband and child. Us. Parking my Jeep, I make a decision to have dinner with both of them. Something I’ve never done before.
To my surprise, the last person I want to see greets me in the kitchen.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the babysitter!”
It’s Kayla, dressed in another one of her white designer ensembles. I meet her glaring green eyes, her look as hard and cold as raw emeralds. My gaze stays on her as she saunters to the Sub-Zero refrigerator. She swings the door open and pulls out a chilled bottle of Prosecco.
“It’s a shame Phineas doesn’t have any peaches so I could make a Bellini,” she mutters as she expertly uncorks it and pours some of the sparkling wine into a flute. Without offering me any, she returns to the island where I’m sitting and takes a seat opposite me. Her monstrous bag is on the counter.
She sips her drink. “I was just about to leave.”
Don’t let me stop you.
“And if I didn’t have to pick up my car, thanks to Phineas who deserted me yesterday, I wouldn’t be here at all.” She scoffs. “I can’t believe he had the gall to make me Uber!”
Poor little Miss Entitled.
Imbibing more of her sparkling beverage, she gives me the once over. “Maybe it’s good you’re here too. We can have a little girl talk.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.” My voice is icy.
“Think again.” She fires the words at me. “It’s one thing babysitting the little imp—”
“Excuse me. I’m the child’s teacher!”
“Whatever. But it’s another thing babysitting her father.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Puh-lease. Don’t tell me Miss Know-It-All doesn’t have a clue.”
Fortified after my afternoon with Sister Marie, I narrow my eyes at her. “Enlighten me.”
She sneers. “I see the way you look at him. Watch his every move. Like a pathetic puppy. You’re practically drooling.”
Her python eyes take on a venomous glint. “You’d better keep your hands off him if you know what’s good for you.”
My eyes don’t stray from her. “Is that a threat?”
“No, it’s a statement.” She flashes the big diamond on her ring finger at me. “He belongs to me.”
No! He belongs to me! I so want to spit out the words and tell her he kissed me, but bite my tongue. My blood is bubbling, my temperature rising faster than the bubbles of her beverage. My next words tumble out of my mouth.
“I know about your past.”
She purses her lips, her expression piqued with curiosity. “Enlighten me.”
“A BA from Yale? An MFA from Sotheby’s? I. Don’t. Think. So.”
Not reacting, she takes another sip of her drink. I’m not deterred.
“A little cocaine habit, perhaps?”
Turning beet red (Ha! That got her!), she slams her flute on the granite. “So you’ve been spying on me?”
“No. Researching. I like to know whom I’m dealing with.”
“Well, the past is the past. And thanks to all of Daddy’s connections, my little screw-ups don’t matter anymore.”
“Does Finn know about them?”
“You mean Phineas? I suppose he does, but his past isn’t so perfect either. And besides, everyone in the art world snorts a little. It’s not a secret, Miss Goody-Goody.”
She holds me in her contemptuous gaze. “You better be careful. I have a lot of power. One wrong move and I can bring Phineas down. And trust me, he’ll never recover.”
Her words unhinge me. I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. The last thing I want to do is destroy Finn’s career, something he’s worked so hard for. While I weigh my options, she continues.
“It’s funny how life works. Some people like me fall up. Others like Phineas’s ex fall down . . . literally. No pun intended.”
She laughs at her cleverness. “You’re the kind of spineless person who’s doomed to fall down.”
Inside, I’m burning up with rage; I feel my cheeks heating. I’m not Finn’s ex-wife. I
am his wife. And the last thing I am is spineless!
“Finn doesn’t have an ex-wife!”
With a fling of her head, she lets out a haughty huff. “Semantics. Whatever way you look at it, she’s gone.”
Wrong! She’s alive and well and you’re looking right at her!
As fury mounts inside me, she reaches inside her bag and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Marlboro Lights. Opening the box, she slips one out, and to my horror, she lights it up and takes a drag. Tilting her head back, she blows out a puff of smoke. The ring floats in the air.
“Please put the cigarette out.” I try to temper my anger. How dare she smoke around an asthmatic child?
She shoots me a what-the-fuck look. “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me what to do?”
This time, I don’t hold back. “Put out the fucking cigarette, Kayla. The smoke is really bad for Maddie’s asthma.”
“Asthma shmasma.”
She takes another puff and this time deliberately blows out the smoke in my face.
I choke. Not so much on the smoke but on the bile that is rising in my throat. I can’t let this witch marry my husband. And become the mother of my precious daughter. I can’t! My mother used to tell me: “What goes up, must come down.” Whatever it takes, I’m taking Kayla down. Starting now. The tough, ballsy, fearless Skylar Collins is back with a vengeance. I hold her fiercely in my gaze.
“Kayla, get the fuck out of here.”
“How dare you talk to me like that, you bitch!”
“Kayla, what the fuck are you doing?”
The gruff, angry voice is accompanied by thudding footsteps. With a jerk of my neck, I look over my shoulder.
Finn! Marching toward us, his face dark with rage.
“Oh, hi, darling!” In the blink of an eye, the tone of Kayla’s voice has gone from malevolent to saccharine. But it falls on deaf ears.
His paint-stained hands clenched by his side and his lips pinched tight, Finn steamrolls straight up to Kayla and snatches the cigarette out of her hand.
“Jesus, Phineas, what are you doing?”
Remember Me Page 16
