Shared Secrets

by Pam Mantovani

  Rather than second-guess her decision, she kissed him until desire flared and once again demanded satisfaction. Then they slept for a short time, arms wrapped around one another and legs entwined, only to have need and the first sign of urgency waking them.

  Taylor’s hand mirrored on his back the way Lucas’s traveled along hers. She tilted back her head to kiss the stubble growing dark on his chin. “I need to go.”

  Eyes still closed, his hand stopped its lazy caress in order to hold her in place. “Stay.”

  Regret whispered out as a sigh. “I can’t, Lucas. Please understand,” she softly pleaded when he opened his eyes. “If it was only about what I want, I wouldn’t even think of leaving.” Her hand moved over his hip to trail along the outer contour of his thigh. “But there’s Stephanie. She’s not ready to accept that I’ve been with you tonight.”

  Lucas rolled away, leaving the bed, pacing to the door and back. Taylor caught a glimpse of the red marks her fingers had imprinted on his thigh. For the first time tonight she felt conscious of her nakedness. Tugging the sheet free of where it had become twisted and tangled in the posts of the footboard, she pulled it up to her chest and tucked it under her arms.

  Lucas stopped beside the bed and stared at her. “Do you honestly think that after a night like this we can be around one another without Stephanie and Micah guessing what’s gone on between us?”

  Wordlessly, she shook her head. No, because every time she was around him she wanted more and more. And not just the kind of wanting that was based on a strong physical attraction. She wanted his trust and friendship as well. Only, she sadly admitted, they would never have the closeness they’d once taken for granted unless she was honest with him. And to do so meant taking the chance that she could lose him entirely.

  As if sensing her inner turmoil, Lucas sighed, sat down beside her, and reached for her hand. “Do you know how often I pictured you here, in this bed?” His fingers curled around hers. “As I worked on it, as I slept in it, I recalled all the talks and arguments we’d had about it.”

  “Lucas.” Her voice broke as the first tear slipped free. “Please don’t ask me to choose.”

  He studied her for a long moment before he tugged the sheet away as he lowered her to the bed. “You’ll go back to your room,” he murmured, his hand cupping the warmth of her breast. “Just not yet.”

  Chapter 9

  Angling her head to the side, Taylor sighed as hot water streamed down her neck and over her shoulders. She felt stiff in all the places where a woman would want a man to touch her. Her lips curved as she eased back so the water could cascade over her breasts. Tender muscles were a small price to pay for the loving she and Lucas shared last night.

  She was stalling. A part of her didn’t want to go downstairs and face Stephanie and Micah this morning. The night with Lucas had changed her. The control she’d worked so hard to maintain, the discipline that had helped her hold the memories and longings deep inside, wouldn’t be as dependable now. The good memories, coupled with fresh new images of the night before, were too vivid. And the longings, deeper now from having a gratifying taste of the love she’d once held only to walk away from, could well direct her actions.

  Did Lucas have any clue of how hard, how painfully hard it had been to walk out of his room last night? This morning, she automatically corrected. In many ways it had been harder than all those years ago. She had wanted nothing more than to lie there in his arms and pretend that there were no secrets she had to safeguard from him.

  She turned around, closed her eyes, and leaned back to let the water run over her hair and down her back. Just as she had faced a decision last night about going to Lucas, she now faced a decision about being honest with him.

  To confess one truth, that she had fallen in love with him again, meant she would have to tell him everything if she hoped to have the kind of relationship they deserved. As she said last night, if it involved just the two of them, then she could find the courage to explain. But, of course, if their relationship only affected them, no explanations would be necessary. Instead, there was Stephanie to consider. And Micah’s feelings as well.

  How could she unravel all the lies and half-truths without snapping the final thread binding them all together? So many tangled lives, she thought with a soft shiver.

  “Getting cold?”

  She opened her eyes, but Lucas never gave her a chance to answer. Stepping forward, he joined her under the spray of water, his mouth closing over hers, his body—his warm, hard body—pressing her against the tiled wall.

  His mouth took and took as it emptied Taylor’s mind of questions and decisions. All she could think of was Lucas. His hands, those sensitive yet demanding hands, cupped her breasts, stroked along her belly, dipped into the juncture of her thighs. She arched her back against the wall, offering him everything as her own hands, every bit as demanding, raked over his back and down his hips.

  She shuddered, but this time Lucas didn’t ask if she was cold. He knew she wasn’t. She was hot, burning in his hands, against his skin. As she had been last night. He’d lain in bed after she left, and the fire within him had smoldered as he remembered her beside him. As he hungered to have her there again.

  * * *

  There was no patience in him this morning. Now that he knew what they could have together, he didn’t want to wait any longer, didn’t want to go without her. He sent her flying, supporting her as she soared, and as she drifted back down. Only for him to send her soaring again.

  With each stroke of his hand, with each taste, sensual power built within her. Lucas sensed it, encouraged it, as he let her hands and mouth roam and take from him as well. They might have been lovers for decades for the way they knew where to touch, how to touch. They didn’t speak, but the glances they exchanged said everything they didn’t—or wouldn’t—voice. There were no boundaries, no restrictions, or attempts to evade. No other woman had given him as much as she. He’d never wanted to give as much to another woman.

  Dragging her back up his length, he braced her against the wall and hooked her legs around him. With one sure thrust, he entered her.

  His heart roared in his ears as he poured his soul into her.

  Weak, almost powerless, he held her close, needing her support as much as he wanted to give his. The water, growing tepid now, still flowed over them, bringing a much needed cooling to their heated skin. With his mouth buried against her throat, he tasted the slowing of her pulse.

  “Lucas.”

  She sounded dazed, hesitant. Another man might have believed her to be replete, satisfied beyond thought. He knew better, knew her better than anyone ever had or ever could. He didn’t need years of being with her to know no one could love her as he did. But because of those years apart, he knew there were secrets she wouldn’t share with him. When he swayed a little, he drew back and eased her legs down.

  “We shouldn’t…” She swallowed. “Stephanie—”

  “And Micah are gone for the day,” Lucas finished.

  Her body snapped rigid, alarm shining in her eyes where moments ago only passion could be seen. It felt like a splintered break to everything they’d just shared. Lucas swore under his breath. He reached over and switched off the taps. The sudden silence seemed colder than the water had turned just seconds before.

  “There was a note on the kitchen table,” he explained. “They went for a ride through the woods, so Stephanie could try her hand at some nature shots.” Lucas slid open the glass door and yanked a towel from the bar.

  “Then they’re planning to go into town and see if she can get permission to shoot photos of the kids at the day care center. They’ll be home in time to make dinner.” He rubbed the towel over his hair, in effect closing off his expression from her view.

  “I see. I guess that’s all right.”

  “Damn it, Taylor.” Lucas tossed the towel onto the floor, and turned to glare at her. “I don’t understand. I know you believe Micah is innocen
t of this bogus rape charge so that can’t be the reason why you’re so opposed to him spending time with Stephanie. Why can’t you consider that they might be good for one another?”

  “Lucas,” Taylor began, curving her arms around her waist. “Stephanie’s vulnerable right now. It’s not a question of whether or not I think Micah is capable of taking advantage of her.” She slicked a wet strand of hair off her forehead when Lucas tossed his chin higher.

  “She’s been through so much since Stephen’s death. Added to that she’s facing decisions about her future. I know how hard it is for a woman to make rational choices, choices that will affect her entire life, when all she can think about is being with a man she cares for.”

  “And if that man cares for her every bit as much as she cares for him?”

  Taylor tapped down the hope that his question had more to do with their own future than Stephanie’s and Micah’s. Her answer, she knew, easily applied to both.

  “Sometimes that makes the choices easier, sometimes it makes them harder.”

  Lucas closed the distance between them, drawing her chilled body against his. “Taylor,” he whispered as his hands rubbed over her back and his lips pressed against her temple. “Be with me today.”

  “Micah’s case…” She groaned when his teeth nipped at her earlobe.

  “I want to be with you. To have you close by, to talk to, to look at, to laugh with.” His eyes were as exciting as his passion when he drew back to look at her. “To touch.” His hands trailed over her ribs, up to catch a taut nipple between his fingertips. “To kiss.” His mouth lowered to brush hers.

  “Let’s take today for us. Later this evening, when the kids come back, we’ll have to screen what we do and say. That’s going to be hard enough for me. Don’t make me give up today with you also.”

  How could she tell him no when he asked for nothing less than what she wanted? If she couldn’t give him the truth, if she was too afraid to speak the words that would either repair or enlarge the gulf between them, at least she could give him this day. And take it for herself.

  Her arms wound around his neck as her mouth hovered at the base of his throat. “That’s the easiest choice I’ve ever had to make.”

  If she could have planned a perfect day, it would have followed the pattern they slipped into. After a brief but torrid morning in his bed, they went downstairs and made a breakfast of bacon and blueberry pancakes.

  “Now, admit it,” Lucas prodded, balancing his chair on the back legs, a coffee cup in one hand. “Isn’t this better than locking yourself up in that study all day?”

  “On the advice of counsel,” Taylor retorted as she sipped her tea, “I refuse to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”

  He leaned forward, his eyes dancing with mischief. “But I like the way you incriminate yourself.”

  Giving into impulse, she skimmed her mouth over his. “I admit I’m rather fond of it myself.”

  “It feels good, Taylor. Having you here like this, seeing you like this.”

  “It does feel good,” she agreed. Because it did, and it made her want more, she eased away and began to stack plates. “Still, I do feel a little guilty about not working the case. There’s not much time left before the trial is scheduled to start.”

  “What else are you planning to do before the trial?”

  “I have a few more people to interview.” Shutting the door of the dishwasher, she turned to the sink for the few dishes that needed to be hand washed. “I would really love to talk with Rebecca again, preferably without her father present, but I don’t expect that to happen.” She shrugged and rinsed a ceramic bowl under the faucet. “How well do you know her?”

  “I’ve seen her around town a few times, always with her father, never by herself or with any of the other kids from school.”

  Taylor rinsed a wooden spoon and spatula. “Not with Tommy Newman or Brant Hayes?”

  Lucas leaned back against the counter and dried the bowl. “Not that I can remember. Why?”

  “I don’t know.” Taylor used a paper towel to clean out the cast iron skillet. “It’s just that when I interviewed Rebecca, she never mentioned Micah by name unless I specifically questioned her.” She reached for her tea cup and finished the last swallow. “At first I thought it was just normal nerves. Especially considering how her father glared at her while she related the more intimate details of what happened. But the more I’ve thought about it, I can’t help but wonder if Rebecca’s having second thoughts about naming Micah.”

  “What do you mean second thoughts?”

  Taylor recalled the difference in Rebecca’s voice during her deposition as she relayed how Micah had come into her bedroom. She paused, wondering if it was wise to raise Lucas’s hopes. Only, she valued his opinion, and it felt good to have someone she trusted to bounce ideas around with. She and Stephen had done that, but there had always been an underlying legal tone to their discussions. Or, upon occasion, she’d felt like a student seeking advice from a mentor. This time, with Lucas, everything was more personal.

  “What if,” she ventured, “someone else raped Rebecca, but before Micah could calm her down and find out the name, her father came home. Rather than admit she’d broken one of his rules, she named Micah as her rapist.”

  “And,” Lucas picked up her train of thought, “now she realizes what might happen to a friend.”

  “It’s all speculation, of course. I don’t like thinking Rebecca would use Micah’s friendship in that way, but I also can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.” She rinsed her tea cup and pulled the sink plug.

  Lucas cupped a hand around her chin and tilted her face for his kiss. “If you need me to do anything, just ask.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  With a smile, he released her chin and bent down to place a pan on a shelf under the counter.

  Taylor stood there, her hands still damp and slightly wrinkled from the dish water, looking at him as he wrestled the pan into place. His jeans hugged every lean inch of his backside.

  Maybe it wasn’t fair to Micah and his case, but damn it she did want a free day with Lucas. She couldn’t say when the idea occurred to her. One moment she’d been replaying erotic thoughts of their loving the night before, only to be replaced by a sudden desire for the relaxed fun and laughter of friendship. Keeping an eye on him, she grinned and reached across the sink for the nozzle.

  “What the—” Lucas spun around, only to have the same spray of water that had soaked his backside now wetting the front of his shirt.

  Taylor giggled as her fingers released the grip on the sprayer nozzle. “Sorry,” she apologized through the laughter threatening to burst free. “Must have been a muscle spasm.”

  “Accidents happen.”

  “Yes, they do,” she agreed solemnly. Shutting off the faucet and replacing the sprayer hose, she leaned one hand on the counter, her fingers toying with the frayed edges of the towel Lucas had discarded. “I knew you would understand.”

  She recognized his intent to grab her half a second before he moved. Knowing she would need every advantage she flipped the towel at his face, turned and ran out the back door.

  Laughing the whole way she ignored the steps and jumped off the low deck, sprinting across the back yard as if she’d run a hundred races. She started to dodge around a huge oak tree only to see Lucas moving to head her off. Recalling his moves on the basketball court, she spun on her toes and started back in the direction she’d just come.

  In the best imitation of a stand-off, they circled and eventually faced one another across the bed of his truck.

  “Give it up, doll,” he drawled, earning a snort of laughter from her. “Make it easy on yourself.”

  “Easy is so boring,” she shot back while eyeing the distance to the back door of the house.

  “You haven’t got a chance.”

  Catching her bottom lip between her teeth she let her shoulders slump. “I think you’re right.�
� With a sigh she lifted a hand and brushed at her bangs.

  “You know I am.” Smug in what he perceived as victory, Lucas started around the end of the truck.

  “Of course, you could just as easily be wrong.” Taylor laughed and took off toward the workshop.

  He caught her by a belt loop. Snagging, by pure luck, his finger through the small half-circle of material, he reeled her into his arms.

  “You’re going to get it now,” he seductively threatened after turning her to face him.

  “God, I hope so,” she answered, her arms circling his neck.

  His hands held her prisoner as they slid down to cup her bottom and press her against the full length of him. Taylor arched her hips and bounced just enough so she could hook her legs around him. His eyes were as vivid a blue as the sky above them, highlighted by the spirit and laughter of their chase.

  “I’m going to make you pay,” he promised. “You’ll be sweating by time I’m done with you.” His tongue traced the curve of her top lip. “Your muscles are going to ache and scream from exhaustion.” His teeth caught her bottom lip, taking small nibbles that had her breath clogging in her throat. “You’ll be moaning and begging me to stop.”

  “Not a chance,” she replied huskily. Taylor had no doubt she would be begging by time he was done, but not for him to stop.

  When he began walking, she closed her eyelids and enjoyed the sensation of her body bumping against his. Then, abruptly, he dropped her and left her to stand on her own. Disoriented, reaching for him, she opened her eyes.

  “What are we doing here?”

  Lucas crossed the workshop and flung open the wide back doors. “I told you I was going to make you pay.” He walked back to her, and all amusement vanished from his gaze. “Taylor, I need something more from you than just making love. I’m not saying,” he hurried, “that I don’t want you, but we need times like this.” He tossed his chin to indicate the workshop. “We need to get back to the point where we feel comfortable enough to share everything with one another. Do you understand?”