** These novellas were previously published by Harlequin Enterprises from 2002-2005 on their website as prequels to The Serenity House Series. Be sure to get a copy of the boxed set or individually, PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT, A PLACE TO BELONG, AGAINST THE ODDS.
Jillian Kimball exited her rented car amidst the eerie glow of the streetlamps. She stood before her home on North Boulevard in the sleepy town of Hyde Point, New York, and willed her hands not to shake. The house looked the same as it had 10 months ago when she walked out of the place. But she wasn't the same. She was so different, sometimes she didn't recognize the old Jillian: Yale graduate, hotshot lawyer, unfaithful wife.
Shaken by being here, and by what she was about to do, she summoned the words of wisdom that had brought her back to town, words given to her by her husband's grandfather, whom she loved dearly.
When you grow old, you'll regret the things you didn't do, not what you did do.
Drawing the key from her purse, she hefted up the travel bag she carried and began the precarious trek back to salvage some of her old life—the old life she'd so cavalierly given up. And only had a few days to recover.
She made her way down the sidewalk and onto the porch. Big pillars flanked the entryway. She remembered designing them with her husband, Riley.
I want the pillars tall and massive, she'd told him.
It's overstated, he'd retorted.
Although building their first house together had been fun, there, too, was the struggle for control. The feelings had been painful, the need to dominate that both she and her almost-ex shared. Even though the tiffs had usually ended in bed, where everything had been glorious.
Keeping that image in her brain, she faced the front door of the two-story contemporary. No lights shone downstairs, but peeking in the foyer window, she noted a faint yellow glow from their bedroom. Was Riley home? Was he alone?
She angled her chin. It didn't matter. She couldn't have called. If she'd warned him she was coming, he wouldn't see her. And she believed her success in this mission depended on catching him off guard and keeping him there for the next three days.
Coincidentally, the finalizing of their divorce came at the same time of their law firm's annual outreach work. Every year, businesses in Hyde Point sent their employees for a stint of do-gooding. This spring's project was giving the city's home for girls a face-lift. Serenity House was a facility that had taken in troubled teenage girls for the past 15 years. Hyde Associates represented them, and when Nathan Hyde had taken a leave from his firm to run for Congress, Jill had asked to fill in as Serenity House's attorney. She loved working with the proprietor, Nora Nolan. Consequently, Jill had seen this opportunity as the perfect time to come home. Of course, she also hoped to convince Riley not to divorce her.
Going through the three upcoming days, and facing the person she'd been, as well as what she'd done to the only man she ever loved, scared the hell out of Jill. But there was only one way to find out if he'd take her back. And that was to ask him.
That and be around so he'd remember the good things.
Quietly, she let herself into the house. The air smelled like spaghetti sauce—his favorite.
If you cook for me tonight, I'll make extra-special love to you.
It's your turn to cook for me.
She shook her head. She'd give her eyeteeth to be able to make meals for Riley again.
Setting her bag down on the tile floor, she stiffened her spine and climbed the winding oak staircase. At the top, she drew in a breath and headed to the master suite. The door was ajar and she could hear the TV on low. Even that had come between them.
I hate when you watch television in our bedroom, she’d told him.
I like it. Use your earplugs.
Jill stepped inside. The brass bed was messy, the covers askew. She heard water running in the bathroom. She was standing just inside the doorway when Riley came out.
Naked.
He froze when he saw her, his arms arrested in the act of drying his wheat-colored hair with a towel.
His chiseled features went from startled to puzzled, to completely and utterly contemptuous. He drew in a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and lowered the towel, knotting it around his waist. His blue eyes burned cold fire. "Huh! If it isn't my long lost wife." He glanced at the Rolex he always wore. "For a few more days, that is."
"Hello, Riley."
His voice like death, he asked, "What do you want, Jillian?" Not Jill, what he usually called her. And certainly not Jilly, which he whispered in bed.
Her heart raced in her chest and her palms got clammy. But she threw back her hair and faced him squarely. "I want another chance, Riley. I want to give our marriage another try."
oOo
Riley Sullivan was dumbstruck by the sight of his wife standing in their bedroom. For a minute, he was transported back to when they were together, when they shared the events of their days, their hopes and dreams, their bodies in this very room. He'd been poleaxed when it all ended.
But soon, the pain started again, like a little bud of agony blossoming whenever he remembered what she'd done to him.
He started to laugh. Even to his own ears it was an ugly sound. "Well, now, sweetheart, that's the best joke I've heard in 10 months."
Her face shadowed. Those big brown eyes were…wounded. She'd changed physically—gained weight, which looked good on her, and let her hair grow. It seemed lighter.
Is it natural? he'd asked one night when they'd sat in front of the fireplace in his apartment and he rubbed strands of her blond hair between his fingers. They were just getting close, and had been dating for a month.
Leaning over and grazing his ear with her mouth, she'd said, There's only one way to find out.
Because she'd meant to tease him, because she'd tried to get the upper hand in their relationship from day one—and had succeeded—he'd flipped her to her back and slid her jeans down before she had time to think.
It was natural. As natural and right as the love-making that followed.
"This isn't a joke, Rye."
He swallowed hard at the nickname.
She added, "I want to get back together."
She seemed sincere, but then she always had, even when she was cutting his soul to ribbons. To steel himself against her, he crossed to the dresser and pulled out pj bottoms. His back to her, he dropped the towel and slid into them. Then he turned around. Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned against the built-in wall unit. "On the outside chance you might mean that, let me make myself perfectly clear. There isn't a reason on this earth, a possible explanation or excuse that could make me consider that proposal. So why don't you just skulk away in the night like you did 10 months ago and let me get some sleep."
He crossed to the bed and dropped down on the new covers. He'd torn the others apart, literally, when she told him she'd slept with another man…
I'm sorry, Rye. Please forgive me.
He'd sprung at her, grabbed her roughly. Where? When?
She'd trembled violently. When you were away on the Caruso case. At the Boxwood Inn.
He'd shaken her hard. I can't believe it.
Rye, please.
He'd practically flung her across the room. Get out. Now…
"Riley, did you hear me?"
"No. I was thinking about the last time you were in this room."
Her light complexion reddened. But she raised that chin. "I said I'm not leaving. I'm staying here for the weekend."
"What?"
"I still partly own this house, for a few more days at least."
His heart pounded now. All right, he'd play this out. "Why, Jillian? Why are you here? Why are you doing this?"
"Because I made a mistake. And I want to rectify it." She drew in a breath. "And because I love you."
oOo
"What the hell is she doing here?" Jase McKay asked on Saturday morning when Jill walked into the meeting room where tasks for the weekend work at Serenity House would be assigned.
"She came back to town last night," Riley told his best friend since college.
"She's still got two months on her leave of absence from the firm. What does she want?"
Riley drew a cup of coffee, which he needed like a junkie craving a fix. For obvious reasons, he hadn't slept well. "She says she wants me."
"What?"
"My sentiments exactly." Riley dropped down into a chair.
"Did you tell her to go to hell?"
Thinking about her stance last night—This is still my house until Monday, and I'm staying in it—he got mad all over again. What right did she have to prance into his bedroom and disrupt his life? Losing her last year had almost killed him and he was just getting his equilibrium back.
"I tried booting her out. She does own half the house."
"Son of a bitch."
"Look, I—"
"There you are, boy." Riley turned to find his grandfather behind him. One of the few things that brought a smile to his face during the past difficult year was this man who had raised him. Big and burly, Mick Sullivan was almost eighty and retired, but he showed up every year to partake in the firm's charitable work, doing whatever he could to give back to society.
"Hi, Grandpa." Hell, he hadn't thought about Mick's reaction to seeing Jill. At one time, the old guy thought she walked on water.
So did you, buster.
They were both wrong.
"Mick, I've got to tell you something." Riley stood and slid his arm around his grandpa's shoulder. "Come sit down."
But Mick had glanced to the back of the room before Riley could warn him. "Oh, good God."
For a split second, Riley froze. Looking fragile in painter's pants and a T-shirt, with her hair tied up in a youthful ponytail, Jill stopped dead in her tracks. Then, she flew across the room and, stunning Riley, launched herself at his grandfather.
Mick caught her, and scooped her up in a big hug. "So, you came back."
Jill nodded. Riley was further shocked when she pulled away and there were tears in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. This from a woman who’d had no time, or use, for crying. "It's so good to see you."
"Shouldn't have left in the first place, girl." His grandfather tried to sound stern, but Riley could hear the joy in his voice.
Damn her. She'd hurt a lot more people than just him when she hit the sheets with Rafe Santilli. To avoid the sight of her gone all soft and feminine, Riley walked out of the room, out of the house, and onto the porch. Fresh air made him feel better. Dropping down onto the wooden swing, which needed sanding and re-staining, he sipped his coffee and tried to harden his heart.
"Want to talk?" Jase had followed him.
Riley shrugged.
His friend leaned against the railing. "You okay?"
"I'm numb. Pissed." And something else. The smell of her had lingered in the bedroom after she left last night, and the sound of her moving around down the hall had called to him. And then he'd dreamed about her. How her skin felt. How she whispered, "Rye" when he was inside her. He'd slept fitfully, and awakened hard and hungry.
For Jill Kimball, a woman who'd been his wife for five years but refused to share his name, always kept a part of herself invulnerable and never let herself go with him.
Jase was talking. "The divorce is final Monday. I'll make sure she signs the papers." Also a lawyer, Jase represented him.
"Yeah." The thought of that final act of severance made Riley's heart constrict, as if he were about to lose a limb.
"You gotta hold out till then."
"Yeah," he repeated.
"Anything I can do?"
"Be my friend, like you have the last year." When Jill had broken his heart, shamed him in front of the entire firm, and changed him irrevocably.
Best to remember all that.
oOo
The May sun beat down mercilessly on the peaked and gabled roof of Serenity House. Her face damp, her hair limp and sweat running down her back, Jill lifted the hammer and pounded one of the shingles into place. Her shoulders ached and her fingers were numb. From not too far away, Riley mirrored her actions, but kept darting glances at her. He looked tired today. She'd heard him prowling around last night, had wanted to go to him and soothe him, like she used to.
Let me put you to sleep, Rye.
Hmm. Sounds good.
I love you.
I love you, too.
"Ouch." Damn, she'd missed the nail and hit her finger while she was daydreaming.
"What's wrong?" Riley yelled over.
"Nothing. I hit my hand."
His face reddened with pique. "Damn it, you shouldn't be up here."
"Why?" She angled her chin. "Don't tell me you've gone chauvinist in the last ten months?"
“I’ve changed a lot, Jillian." His tone, and the finality in it, chilled her.
She focused back on the shingle she held, ignoring the throbbing in her hand, and the jagged pain in her heart.
"Why the hell are you up here? You used to be afraid of heights."
Hard work, the kind you sweat at, clears the head, and heals the soul. She'd taken Mick's words to heart when she was away, and had done a lot of volunteer work. Among other things, it had brought her to where she was today.
She hissed in a breath as the hammer found the same finger again.
Swearing vilely, Riley crossed to her. Precariously—they were twenty feet up and on a slope a mountain goat would have trouble navigating—he knelt down beside her. "Let me see."
Her immediate reaction was to resist, to say she could take care of herself. But that was the old Jill, the old relationship. She stuck out her arms. He whipped off his gloves, then one of hers.
His hands were beautiful, long, tapered, sprinkled with dark blond hair. She remembered what magic they worked on her body. "Shit, Jill, your hands are all swollen."
"I'm fine."
He stared down. "What happened to the fancy manicures?"
“They stopped. Like a lot of things for me." She drew in a breath. "I told you, I've changed. It's why I came back."
Looking up, his blue eyes were tumultuous. This was hurting him, and she regretted that. But she had to try to rectify the horrible mistake she'd made. "Where'd you go?"
"To Paris."
His face shadowed. They'd spent their honeymoon there.
"I stayed at the Hotel du Frontenac for a while."
He gripped her fingers.
"It wasn't the same without you."
Despite his anger, he whispered, "That was the best time of my life."
"Mine, too. It's why I went back. I wanted to find what we had there."
Like it was a live wire, he dropped her hand. "You weren't going to find it there." The pain on his face, the rawness of his voice, killed her. He stood and anchored his feet on the slope. His jeans were threadbare, gloving his thighs. His hips were narrow. His shoulders broad.
And up here, on the roof of Serenity House, she sucked in her breath, she wanted him back so much.
"You lost what we had in Rafe Santilli's bed. And you're never going to find it again. Why don't you just go away and stop whatever it is that you're trying to do with all this."
Gingerly, he made his way to where he'd been working.
Jill watched him, seized by fear. What if she couldn't convince him to take her back? What would she do?
Damn it, she wasn't giving up.
You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take, Mick had written her.
He was right. She might lose Riley, but she wasn't giving up. She still had two days to convince him.
oOo
Riley sat on a stool in Rascal's, a Hyde Point bar that catered to the older crowd. He scanned the rich mahogany wood, the dim lighting, and a scattering of tables around the dance floor. Anything to keep from watching the door to see if Jill would come to the firm's traditional Friday night after-work gathering. All of the outreach volunteers were joined by regular staff and some of their spouses.
"Where is she?" Jase's voice came from behind him.
Turning, Riley shook his head. "God, am I that obvious? It's bad enough she cast me as the cuckolded husband ten months ago. Now I'm cryin' in my beer in front of our whole firm?"
"Nah. I just know you, buddy." Jase sipped his Molson. "Besides, everybody at Hyde Associates adores you, and thinks she's a bitch."
The comment caused Riley to wince. In one of the few times he could get her to talk about their relationship, Jill had made a comment about how Riley was so well-liked, so personable, she often felt as though she was struggling to catch up on the popularity ladder. When he'd made partner, and she hadn't, everything started to fall apart.
"So, is she coming tonight?" Jase asked.
"I don't know. She took Mick home."
"Mick? As in your grandfather?"
"Yep. The old guy always loved her. Treated her like the prodigal daughter when he saw her today."
Actually, he'd always treated her like a daughter. Again, Riley was hit by a memory that made him stop and think. Jill's words about Mick: It must be so nice to have unconditional love like that. Has he been that way since your parents died?
Yep. I take it for granted, I guess.
She'd been quiet. So he'd asked, You never got that from your mom and dad, did you?
Are you kidding? Unless I had straight A’s in every subject, was captain of the soccer team, and made all honor rolls and activities, they were distanced. Until I'd measured up again.
Riley remembered thinking at the time that maybe that was why she was so competitive, so reluctant to share herself. At first those traits had challenged him, then her remote behavior began to eat at him and he wanted more from her.
"Don't look now, but Mary Magdalene just walked in." Jase added, "With her bitchy sister."
"Molly? Bitchy? I never thought that."
"Yeah, well, we went a few rounds about the divorce when I called her trying to find Jill."
Riley was about to comment when his wife came into his line of vision. Once again, he was stunned by what the sight of her did to him. Tonight she wore a pretty peach dress that hugged her curves and highlighted her complexion. You look so freakin' sexy in that color, he'd once told her. She'd gone out and bought the naughtiest underwear and nightgowns, all in varying shades of peach.
Damn her. She wore that dress on purpose tonight.
The women made their way down the bar. Riley wondered if Jill noticed the murmurs when she was spotted. She was treated like a pariah today by everybody working at Serenity House. No one but Mick would even eat lunch with her. They blamed her for almost destroying Riley.
Interesting, nobody had blamed Rafe. Once he'd reconciled with his wife—apparently he'd confessed, too—it was business as usual for the man Jill cheated with.
As she came toward them, Riley could see she looked tired. But her hair shone and the sun had lured out her freckles today. Again, he noticed she'd gained weight, all in the right places, which were showcased by the dress.
"Hi, guys." Her casual tone didn't fool him. He heard the underlying tremulousness.
"Jillian." He nodded to her sister, who'd always liked him, until he and Jill split. Then she'd lit into him…
You know, you bear some responsibility here, too.
Me? I didn't cheat.
No, but you never really knew her. She's fragile.
As a shark.
That's what I mean. You don't know the real Jill.
Well, lady, if I never knew her, it's because she didn't let me.
You’d think in five years of marriage you could have figured out a way to breach her defenses…
He said, "Hello, Molly."
Molly's dark eyes burned angrily. "Riley." They spit fire when she turned them on his friend. "Jase."
His buddy’s spit right back. "Molly."
Riley set down his beer. "I'm going to go play pool." He looked at Jase. "Come on. I'll bet I can beat you by ten."
At those words, his eyes locked with Jill's. He remembered a good time in their marriage. They'd just bought the pool table for their house.
Come on, babe, let's play strip billiards. Every time I sink a ball, you have to take a piece of your clothes off.
Rye, we're married. You don't have to think up excuses to get me naked.
Yeah? Well, sweetheart, if I win, you gotta stay that way all weekend and be at my beck and call.
By Monday, he could hardly walk. It had been a hell of a weekend.
He tore his gaze away from her and stalked to the pool table, vowing not to remember the good times like this, not to feel bad for her. Even when he heard "She's a bitch" and "She's got nerve" from just about all the Hyde Associates he passed, his heart remained hardened.
oOo
Jill could take the cold stares. She could even take the snide comments she'd gotten all day. But she wasn't ready for seeing Rafe Santilli's wife as she came out of the stall in the restroom. Marietta stood there, as if she was waiting for her. "Hello, Jillian," the pretty mother of three said calmly.
Nodding, Jill said, "Hello, Marietta."
"I'm surprised to see you." Over the woman's head, Jill noticed a woman come out of another stall and go to the waiting area. It was the firm's receptionist—and the biggest gossip at Hyde Associates.
Jill wanted to apologize, but she didn't want to hurt Marietta in the process. "I hope my showing up here doesn't make you too uncomfortable."
Marietta watched her. "It doesn't. Rafe and I are doing fine."
"I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that" She raised her chin. "I'm sorry for the grief I caused you."
The woman cocked her head. "Fine. Apology accepted. Especially since we worked things out. Our marriage is stronger now."
"I'm glad." Jill bit her lip. Another woman joined the receptionist in the waiting area, and they stood there, eavesdropping and not apologizing for it. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yes."
"How did Rafe convince you to forgive him?"
“Is that why you came back to Hyde Point? To ask for Riley's forgiveness?"
“I came back to Hyde Point because I want to stop the divorce."
"I see." Marietta thought for a moment. “To answer your question, Rafe told me you were together only one time, you'd both had too much to drink, and were in bad places professionally and personally." Like her, Rafe had been passed over for the partnership. And he and Marietta had been fighting, too.
Marietta smirked. "He also told me the sex wasn't even very good, and afterward, you both were sorry. That's when you decided to confess to your respective spouses and beg our forgiveness."
"And you forgave him."
“I didn't right away. It took a while. But we have three kids, and…" The woman's eyes clouded. "I love him."
Jill felt her throat close up “I’m so sorry."
"So you say." Marietta threw back her shoulders. "I no longer bear you ill will, Jill, but I really can't wish you the best in life." She turned around and caught sight of the women behind her, who promptly scurried out the door. "Oh, dear." She looked back at Jill. "I'm afraid this wasn't very private, but then the whole affair leaked out, so…"
"It's okay." Word of her apology would get back to Riley. Maybe it would take away some of the sting of how she embarrassed him.
After Marietta left, Jill sat down on the lounger to calm the shaking of her hands. When she garnered her courage, she left the restroom. It was an hour later, as she sat with Molly and tried not to watch Riley dance with other women, that he approached her. "Come outside with me. I want to talk to you." He didn't sound happy.
He stalked ahead of her out the door to the parking lot, to his car. She'd surprised him with the sporty Miata as a thirty-fifth-birthday present.
When they reached it, he rounded on her and grabbed her roughly by the forearms. His fingers bit into her. "What are you up to with all this shit?"
"All what shit?"
"Damn it, Jill. You had to know it would get back to me. Groveling to Marietta."
"All right, I did know. I wanted to make up for embarrassing you in front of our colleagues."
He shook her, his face lit with anger. "You can never make up for what you did to us."
"Please, let me try."
"No. Not even if you did confess your sins in front of the firm's receptionist, who's broadcasting the news from here to eternity."
Jill closed her eyes. How could she change his mind?
oOo
Suddenly he pulled her to him. "And what did she mean, the sex was lousy? Didn't you enjoy having his hands on you?"
That brought moisture to her eyes. "No, I didn't. The only man who ever made me shiver was you." She moved in closer. Aligned her body with his. Felt his respond. "I crave your touch now, Rye. Only yours."
"Damn you." His mouth came down on hers.
It was a punishing kiss. He was rough and angry. But then the tenor changed to desire. His arms banded around her, and his hands closed over her bottom. He grasped her tightly, and consumed her. His tongue was everywhere, staking claim to her mouth. He moaned, sunk deeper into her, ground his body into hers.
Jill was lost, finally being in his arms again. She gripped his shoulders, whimpered when he took her mouth voraciously.
Then, as suddenly as the kiss began, it was over. He yanked himself back and thrust her away from him. "I'm not going to do this."
She just watched him. He raked a hand through his hair. The stars twinkled down on him, and the moon highlighted the dark gold strands and outlined every tense muscle in his body.
"Is this what you planned? To seduce me into taking you back?"
She faced him squarely. "I'll do anything to get you back."
"It'd take a lot more than a few hot kisses and a couple of cheap feels to do that, sweetheart." When she continued to stare at him, he said silkily, "Surprised that you can't bring me to my knees like you used to?"
"I don't want to bring you to your knees. I want to love you."
His eyes widened and his hands fisted at his sides. "Go to hell, Jillian." Yanking the keys out of his pocket, he flung open the car door, and slid inside. Then he tore out of the parking lot.
Jill raised her fingers to her mouth. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. She savored the feel and taste of her husband as she watched the taillights of his car disappear into the night.
Mick's words in one of his last letters came to her. The hardest thing in the world is to watch what hurting the ones we love has done to them. It takes real courage, to face that.
For the first time since she made her decision to return to Hyde Point, Jill wondered if she had the courage to see this through.
oOo
"Riley didn't come home last night." Jill sipped a cup of coffee and stared at the paintbrush in Mick's hand. On this bright and beautiful Sunday morning, she'd volunteered to help Riley's grandfather do the trim on the back portion of the house.
"He didn't?"
She shook her head. "He spent the night at Jase's. I heard them joking about how it was just like old times when they were roommates."
"Can't let him avoid you if you want to break down his defenses."
"I know. I didn't plan on him not staying with me." She raised sad eyes to Mick. "What if I can't change his mind, Mick?"
The old man stood, put down his brush, and held out his arms. "Come here, girl."
She went into his embrace, wishing just once her father would have given her this kind of comfort, this kind of support. Maybe she would have turned out a better person.
Smoothing down her hair, Mick crooned to her. "You've got to give it your best shot. That's all you can do."
"I know," she mumbled into his shirt.
"What's going on back here?" Riley’s voice. His tone was gruff.
"Nothing." Mick held her neck when she tried to draw back. "Jill here was just feeling a little light-headed."
She managed to pull away and face Riley. If she was overwrought, he looked ravaged. He stared hard at her, then glanced at the ladder. "Then stay off that damned thing," he said and stalked away.
Mick mumbled, "Mmm. Looks like he's not so immune. Maybe I can feed the fire."
"Don't, Mick. He'll just get mad at you."
"I love that boy. I'll be damned if I stand by and let him make the worst mistake of his life." He cleared his throat. "Now, let's get to work."
Jill was on the top rung of the high ladder painting the high trim in the midafternoon sun when she did indeed feel light-headed. Time to stop. Mick had gone for something to drink and she was alone. She didn't want to break her neck. Placing the brush in the can, she gripped the rails of the ladder. For a minute, she rested her head on one of them.
"Get the hell down from there. Mick's right. You're a stubborn broad."
Drawing in a breath, she descended the ladder. When she got near the bottom, she felt strong hands grip her waist. And then she was lifted from the rungs and set on the ground. Riley held on to her while she still faced away. "What are you trying to prove?"
"What do you mean?"
His hands flexed on her waist. They felt good there. "Mick said you weren't feeling well. You shouldn't be up on that ladder."
"I'm—" She was about to say she was fine, but his hands were still at her waist and so she decided to take advantage of his closeness. She leaned back. "I, um, I'm just tired. And not used to this heat."
She could feel his muscles against her back. He was almost a foot taller than she, and his chest was big and safe. She'd given up so much. "Jill?"
"I'm fine. I—" She pivoted and his arms seemed to automatically encircle her. She stared up at him. "I miss you so much, Riley. Especially when you're close like this."
His blue eyes gave the sky competition. They were crystal clear today, but sad. "It's no use, Jill. Like I was telling Jase last night, even if I wanted to give our marriage another shot, I could never trust you. What kind of relationship would that be?"
"Maybe—"
"Rmmm. Rmmm."
Startled, Riley looked up. Jill saw a little boy about five with two sticks in the shape of a cross come around the side of the house. Jase's son, Riley's godchild.
"Hey, Tommy, where's your dad?" Riley asked. "You know he said to stay close."
"Went to pee."
Riley chuckled. He let go of Jill and crossed to the boy. Bending to one knee, Riley whispered something in his ear.
The boy said, "Oops, sorry ma'am."
Jill tried to smile, but the sight of her husband with the child robbed her of breath. They should have had a baby. Like Rafe and Marietta, maybe they wouldn't have given up so easily.
Then Riley stood and looked at her, as if he'd read her mind. Tommy took off and he followed the boy without saying more.
I could never trust you.
Slowly, she crossed to a table to get some water. She poured a glass and sat down. She was thinking about how she would lose everything if she couldn't convince Riley she'd changed, when little Tommy zoomed back around the house. This time he carried two makeshift planes and was pretending to fly them. Leaning against the picnic table, she watched him. He was about ten feet away, farther back in Serenity House's yard, where they'd piled the leftover shingles from the roof.
Tommy ran in circles, then veered off.
Right toward one of the stacks.
“Tommy, don't—" Her warning to stay away from the building materials hadn't even left her mouth when he ran toward the stacks at the same time they wobbled from a gust of wind.
Tommy looked up…and Jill bolted to him. She heard a male shout just as she reached the boy and scooped him up and out of the way.
Hard heavy shingles tumbled down behind her as she managed to dart clear of them. But momentum carried her too fast, right into bags of cement that were stacked off to the side for the new walkway. Turning her body, her right shoulder hit them, sending pain splintering down her arm. She and Tommy tumbled to the ground to the sound of a voice yelling, "Jill…"
oOo
Nora Nolan, the supervisor of Serenity House, stood in its kitchen with Dr. Paige Kendrick, a former resident of the home, as the doctor checked out Jill. Riley sat on a chair across from her, his heart still in his mouth.
“I'm fine, Paige, really." Jill winced, though, as Paige probed her shoulder.
"Gotta lift this shirt up, Jill."
From where he sat, Riley could see Paige tug at Jill's T-shirt. She wore a pretty peach bra. Beneath the right strap a bruise fanned out to either side, discoloring quickly. "You got a hell of a black-and-blue mark." Gently, Paige probed the area. "But that and your leg look like the worst of it." She pulled down the shirt. "You're going to be sore. Really sore. You took quite a tumble, from what Riley said. Use ibuprofen for the pain."
Jill glanced at him. He'd never forget the sight of her, racing to Tommy, scooping the little boy out of harm's way and heading for the pile of cement bags. They didn't have much give and she pivoted quickly to take the brunt of the contact.
She'd willingly risked her own safety for Tommy.
Nora frowned. "You should go home, dear. The day's work is almost over. I'd be glad to drive you. I think you're too woozy to be behind the wheel."
"I'm headed back into town," Paige said. "I could take you."
Riley stood. "I'll do it. She's staying at my place anyway."
Nora and Paige exchanged quick looks. Hyde Point was small and it was common knowledge that Jill had cheated on him and he'd kicked her out. But today, with the images of her in physical danger imprinted on his mind, he didn't much care what anybody else thought. Not that Nora or Paige would gossip.
Jill stood and winced again. She glanced at Riley. "I'd appreciate the ride."
Paige snapped her bag shut. "Good to see you again, Jill, though not under these circumstances." She smiled. "Are you back from your leave of absence?" Jill had done some legal work for Paige's medical practice.
"I don't know." She shook hands with Paige. "Thanks for checking me out."
"I'm glad I decided to stop on my way back from the med school and see what was happening here."
When Nora and Paige left, Jill and Riley stood alone in the kitchen. He watched her. "Thanks for what you did for Tommy."
"Anybody would have done what I did."
"You risked your own safety. Jase is grateful. He almost broke down when he found out what happened."
"Maybe he won't hate me so much now."
"I’m sure he’s very grateful."
"Maybe you won't either."
"I don't hate you, Jill."
"No? Then prove it."
His uh-oh detector went off. "How?"
“Take me home."
"I said I would."
"Have a beer with me."
"Okay."
"And give me one last chance to change your mind. About us."
He had a vision of her naked and under him. It was not at all unpleasant. "How?"
"Let me tell you why I think I did what I did and explain what I've learned from the experience, how I've changed. If you still want the divorce after that, I'll sign the papers."
"Jill, I—"
"Is that too much to ask, Riley? Another hour of your time? We were together five years."
"All right. But I warn you, I don't think talking about what happened will do any good."
Her shoulders sagged; she wavered and gripped the end of the table. He was beside her in seconds, sliding an arm around her waist. "Come on, let's go home."
oOo
Jill leaned her head back against the Jacuzzi and let the steaming water ease the aches that had manifested everywhere. The huge bruises on her shoulder and leg had caused Riley to gasp when she came downstairs from changing. This hot tub was just what the doctor ordered, though it had had many uses in the past. They'd made love out here several times.
The sliding doors hissed open. Riley hooked two bottles by their necks with one hand and closed the door with the other.
In the six o'clock sunlight, he looked absolutely gorgeous. The hair on his chest was a few shades darker than the sandy strands on his head, and he was more muscular than he was months ago. "Here you go." His tone had lost its edge since she'd rescued his godson from harm.
"Thanks." She took the beer and sipped. The cool liquid went down smoothly.
He climbed in the tub, making the water swish around her neck. Sighing, he closed his eyes. "I can't fathom what it would have been like for Jase if something happened to Tommy. Since Mary died, the kid has been his world." Jase's wife had been killed in an accident right after Tommy was born.
He opened his eyes and smiled sadly. "We should have had a baby."
“I was thinking about that earlier."
“You wanted to wait."
"I wish we hadn't. I wish we had that to bind us together."
He stared hard at her. "I never understood…I couldn't believe you'd cheat on me. I know we had problems in our relationship—we were both so hardheaded and inflexible about things— but that didn't warrant turning to another man."
"Of course it didn't. The cheating was totally my fault."
His tone was soft, resigned, when he said, "Why'd you do it, Jill?"
It was time to bite the bullet. "I was always afraid of you, Riley."
"Afraid? Why?"
"You were so well liked, so sure of who and what you were."
"So were you."
"No, I wasn't. I wanted you and everybody else to think I was, but I wasn't. I'm not using this as an excuse, but my parents' approval and love were always so hinged on what I did, how good I was at things, that I never felt worthy of love unless I earned it."
"Did you feel you had to earn it with me?"
"Yes, of course."
"I never knew that."
"It's why I felt so competitive with you, that you couldn't best me in anything or somehow, I wouldn't have your approval."
"Jill, that's crazy thinking."
"It wasn't conscious. I didn't admit it at the time."
"When did you realize all this?"
She took a swig of beer for fortification. "Mick helped me see it."
"My grandfather?"
"Yes. Mick and I corresponded while I was gone."
"No, that's impossible. He would have told me.
"I asked him not to."
She could see anger color his face. "He shouldn't have kept that from me."
"He really helped me to see how I was behaving with you, and why. He'd been around for our whole relationship and I'd talked to him about my dad. So he knew my background."
Riley let out a breath. "You should have talked to me. You should have let me in."
"I wasn't good at letting people in."
"I was your husband, damn it."
"I know. I'm sorry."
He sighed heavily. "It doesn't matter anymore. What you did can't be taken back. Goddamn it Jill, you slept with another man because I got a promotion and you didn't. Do you know how that makes me feel?"
Her teeth came out over her bottom lip. A gesture of vulnerability. "As I said, I was afraid if I didn't measure up, if I wasn't perfect, you'd stop loving me, too. Or withhold your love, like they did."
"You sold me short. The only thing that could have made me stop loving you was your turning to another guy."
Mick had written something to her in a letter.
It's amazing how we manage to bring about exactly what we fear in life by trying so hard to prevent it. It's like when you’re driving a car and you tell yourself not to steer across the white line; but if you concentrate too hard on the white line, the next thing you know you cross it.
"I've learned from my mistakes, Rye. I'd be a different kind of wife now."
"You mean you wouldn't cheat again if we got back together?"
"Of course I mean that. But I also mean that I wouldn't keep myself closed off. I'd share more with you. And I hope I wouldn’t feel or react on my insecurities."
He gulped his beer, then looked her in the eye.
"I'm sorry, Jill. It sounds like you're sincere, and that you may have changed, but I can't take the risk."
Tears clogged her throat. "Won't you even consider giving us another try?"
"No. It's too much to ask. You don't understand how devastated I was when you went to Rafe. I thought I'd never stop hurting. Now that I have, I can't give you another shot at me. I wouldn't survive if you cheated again, or if this change in you wasn't permanent."
He stood and climbed out of the tub. "Don't stay in here too long, after your injury today." And he walked into the house.
With him went the one last hope Jill had. She waited until she heard the door close before she let the tears come.
oOo
"I hope she's gone."
Liar. Liar. Liar.
"Shut up," Riley told the inner voice that contradicted him as he pulled into his driveway at two a.m. He'd gone out before Jill came inside from the hot tub; he'd scribbled her a note telling her he wanted her to leave tonight and spare them both a wrenching goodbye scene. She could call Molly, retrieve her car, and be gone from his life.
He entered through the kitchen. Slowly, he made his way upstairs, feeling so overwhelmingly sad he could barely contain it. See, you were right to send her away, he told himself. She'd been in town 48 hours and had managed to make him feel excruciating pain again.
With hard won self-control, he refrained from checking the room where she'd slept. Instead, he strode directly to their bedroom and stepped inside. The space was dark. He flipped the switch by the door so the bedside light turned on.
And there she was. Curled up on top of the covers, like Goldilocks. Suddenly his body went taut with desire for her. He wanted to wake her, shake her for what she'd done, then kiss her and drive himself into her until he stopped hurting.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
For a long time, he just stood there. His presence, the light, the palpable mixture of anger and desire that emanated from him must have awakened her. Sleepily, those gorgeous brown eyes opened. "Rye?"
He jammed his hands in his pockets. He noticed she was dressed in jeans, a shirt, and a light sweater. She wore shoes. "What are you doing here?"
She sat up and winced. "Oh, God." She pushed her hair back. "I…I was leaving. Like you asked me to. I got dressed, and my shoulder hurt. So I came in here to find some ibuprofen. I was so tired. I laid down for a minute."
"It's two a.m."
"Really?"
He stepped back. "Jill, you've got to get out of here."
Her eyes widened; hurt darkened them to the color of mink. "I said I was going."
Caught off guard by the force of his feelings, he crossed to the other side of the room to the windows. Staring out at the wooded backyard, he held himself ramrod straight. "Please, Jilly, just leave. Now."
Silence. "What's wrong, Rye?”
"I don't trust myself to be near you. This has all been too much."
More silence. A rustle. He sensed her approach. Felt her hand on his shoulder, then her arms slide around his waist. Her head rested on his back. The embrace felt so right he wanted to weep.
"You don't have to be strong now." And then she whispered achingly, "Make love to me."
Every cell in his body electrified, as if they were burning him from the inside out. "I can't. I meant what I said about not getting back together."
"All right. I'll accept that. Make love to me anyway."
"Jill, please, don't do this."
"Make love to me one more time. Then I'll leave. No more explaining, no more begging. I promise I'll leave afterward."
He couldn't do this.
He couldn't not.
Slowly he pivoted around. Her face was shining with so many things: love, desire, surrender. He watched her for as long as he could. And then he raised his hands to the buttons on her blouse.
It had been so long since Riley had touched her like this, she startled when his fingers skimmed down her shirt, opening the flaps, disposing the garment, gently kissing the bruise on her shoulder. He made quick work of her jeans. Gripping his shoulders, she was overcome with such a sense of loss, she had to battle back the tears.
But she would not cry. If this was all she'd ever have of him again, she would not ruin it with tears.
He knelt down and removed her shoes. His mouth skimmed the skin he bared at her stomach, and lower. "I couldn't forget how you smell," he said, his teeth nipping the tender skin. "Or how you taste." His face nuzzled her curls. "Jilly, I've missed this."
She buried her hands in his hair. "I've missed it, too." The pressure of his mouth increased. "Rye. Oh."
He clasped her bottom. "I always thought you were made just for me."
"I was." She drew his head back so he stared up at her from the floor. "I love you, Rye. I never stopped."
He stood but said nothing.
Her hands went to his shirt. Her fingers fumbled at the buttons. Parting the cotton, she brushed her lips over his bare chest. He sucked in a breath as she tongued a nipple. "Mmm. The same cologne."
He chuckled. She'd bought him the expensive designer product and every time he wore it, she wanted to jump his bones. Some things had been so good. She followed the scent down his body. On her knees, like he'd been, she buried her face in his stomach. He moaned. Then she went lower. "Oh, baby, no. I'll go off." Forcefully he drew her up.
He kissed her like he loved her, a sweet, soul searching kiss that curled her toes. She felt herself being lifted, and held close to his heart. She belonged there. How could she ever have thought differently?
When she remembered this was only for tonight, and the aching loneliness would return tomorrow, she stiffened. Gently placing her on the bed, he watched her as if reading her mind. "Shh. Just think about now."
She did. She focused on his weight pressing her into the mattress, though he did that, too, gently, ever mindful of her bruises. “I love how you feel on top of me."
Gently, he brushed back her hair. "I was always afraid I’d crush you."
“This always made me feel so…feminine."
"Oh, you are." He moved lower, began caressing her breasts, first with his hands, then his mouth. She was squirming by the time he sat up. Still between her thighs, he stretched out, and spreading his legs, drew her up so she sat half on the mattress and half on him. "You loved this position."
"I remember." She braced her hands behind her.
“I was surprised," he said, skimming his knuckles over her intimately. Her world dimmed. "You're so exposed, so vulnerable to me."
She felt her whole body flush with heat. "This is how I really wanted to be with you. This was the only time I could let go with you." She captured his gaze. "Come inside me."
"Ah, Jilly." He entered her.
At the feel of him totally possessing her, she had to swallow back the tears. "Rye."
He was touching her everywhere now, inside and out. She tried to savor the contact, savor the intimacy, but with the clever ministrations of his hands and body, all thought fled. Sensation took over and then her world exploded so all that existed was her connection with this man.
Riley watched her face as she reached her climax. Making love, seeing her come apart, had been one of the most special times in their marriage, had given him a bond with her that they couldn't seem to achieve any other way. And here, on their bed, in the position they loved best, he felt himself drown in the sight and sounds of Jill, completely and utterly his.
He could enjoy her only briefly, though, then his whole body tensed. As he felt the spasms in her, as she clenched him from the inside, his heart started to pound. His head filled with her, his body was consumed by her, and soon—too soon—he erupted inside her. Darkness, sensation, pure pleasure engulfed him as he gave himself over to her.
They dozed, locked in a lovers' embrace. Riley held on to her, waking intermittently to see the red numbers on the clock ticking away their time together. As if she sensed it, too, she stirred. He eased up to a sitting position and lay back against the headboard. Knowing what was coming, she raised herself up and let him bend his knees and then cradle her head in his lap. Once again, she was totally exposed to him in another position they favored.
Slowly he began the familiar ritual. He combed her hair back with his fingers. "Close your eyes."
She did.
He massaged the shoulder that wasn't bruised. "Relax."
She picked up one of his hands, and kissed his knuckles, almost reverently, then put his palm to her breast. He kneaded there, explored her, leaned over to kiss her.
Methodically, lovingly, he kept up the sensual exploration until she was writhing.
Then he took her swiftly.
They dozed again, and the next thing he knew, he was on his stomach and she was straddling him. His hands pillowed under his head, he let the feel of her strong fingers, the intimate contact of her lower body, soothe him. She rubbed his neck, kissed the indentation between his shoulder blades, tongued his spine. She kneaded his buttocks and he groaned. From before, she knew every part of him, knew what she could elicit from him, and proceeded to call it from him. Slowly, she tended to him like a harem slave, wanting to please her master. She leaned forward on him and sensuously aligned her body over the length of his, sliding from side to side, tightening her thighs against his, and grazing his back with her breasts.
They made love one last time.
In the morning, when he awoke, she was gone.
oOo
Riley knew she'd left him, after the sensual feast of last night, when he turned over and found their bed empty. He sighed and grabbed the pillow where her head had lain. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled the scent of her. Damn. He'd never, ever forget what it had been like making love to his wife again.
His wife, who in a few hours, would no longer be legally his. As soon as he signed the papers today, the divorce would be final. The knowledge cut like a surgeon's knife.
He ordered himself to get out of bed, but he didn't move. Instead he lay back and, clutching the pillow, pictured Jill as she'd been last night…
Her body had slid over him, more female and more womanly than he remembered. I can't get enough of you, he'd told her…She'd worked her way down his body, relishing every plane and angle, inhaling him, as if she was trying to absorb him. Just before she took him in her mouth, she whispered, I want you so much. I've never, ever wanted you this much.
He'd felt the same. Later, bracing his arms on either side of her, he'd brushed the hair off her face. You complete me, you make me whole. I haven't felt this way since you left.
She'd hushed him with fingers on his mouth. Shh, don't talk about that. Just now exists…
The feel and taste of her had erased all thought, eclipsed all anger and resentment at what she'd done to him. Now, he was startled to realize he'd never once, during their hours of sex, thought of her letting another man touch her.
But, in the brittle light of day, reality intruded. She had let Rafe Santilli do those things to her. Because the images of her with someone else were ugly and obscene, he bolted out of bed and headed to the shower. Their relationship was over. Nothing could change what she'd done.
He'd go to work and start forgetting her again. Aches and pains from his exertion last night kept her memory with him as the hot spray pounded him, as he dressed, and when he trundled downstairs. The coffee was brewed; he couldn't help smiling as he remembered how she couldn't function without it. He crossed to the pot.
A cup was out, as was the sugar he craved. His heart twisted in his chest at that little consideration, today and in the past. She'd always teased him about his sugar addiction, but fixed his coffee as he liked it every morning and brought it to him with a kiss. Now, the memory carried pain.
Which escalated to acute agony when he saw what was next to the pot on the counter. He picked up the papers, needing to see them. Needing a dose of reality.
It slapped him in the face. She'd signed the legal divorce decree. He gripped the document and stared at the signature. His throat clogged as he read Jillian Kimball Sullivan.
As far as he knew, that was the first time she'd ever used his name. Making him remember their fights over it.
That doesn’t make sense. A lot of people, particularly women who had a career previous to their marriage, keep their name after the wedding.
That's not why you're doing it. This is another distancing measure.
Riley, can't you let anything go without a fight?
Not this.
The irony of her using his name on the divorce papers weakened him further. It still haunted him as he entered his office at Hyde Associates a half hour later. The offending documents were in his briefcase. He was at work only a few minutes when Jase came in.
"Hi, buddy. How are you?"
There was something about his friend's tone. "I'll survive." He noticed the single sheet of paper Jase carried.
Jase caught his stare. "She came to the office just a bit ago, Riley. She called me and asked me to meet her here."
“Why?"
Jase held up his hand. “To give me this."
Swallowing hard, Riley leaned back in his chair. "What is it?"
He took the typed paper, scanned it, and felt like his world had crashed and burned. "She resigned." He looked up at Jase. "She had a few more months on her leave. Why'd she resign?"
"She said she'd given up." Jase dropped to a chair. "I tell you, buddy, I've never seen Jill like that. She was always so strong, so sure of herself."
He didn't want to know, but he had to ask. "Like what?"
"She was jittery, as if she was going to fall apart any minute. And her eyes…they were stricken. She was hurting bad, buddy."
Riley tried not to react. Tried to block out the images of his wife suffering.
Jase studied him when he said no more. "Are you sure this is the right decision? You look as bad as she did. Like you've lost your best friend."
"Maybe I did."
“Then don't divorce her yet. Think about it a while longer."
Angry and confused, Riley pounded his fist on his desk. "You're just feeling generous toward her because she saved your son from getting hurt."
Jase shook his head. Suddenly he seemed old, and weary, too. "No, I'm remembering when my wife died. I knew then that I'd give anything to keep her with me even for one more day. I had no control over that. But you do with this situation. Fate took Mary away from me. You can alter this thing with Jill."
Riley just stared at him. Jase stood. "Well, think about it anyway. Oh, and Mick called. He asked if you could come over."
“To his house?"
"Yeah, as soon as you got in."
"Do you think Jill's there?"
"I don't know, Riley. But the look on your face tells me I'm right about reconsidering the divorce." With that, his friend left him alone.
He wouldn't reconsider divorcing her, or at least he tried not to. He got out some work, made some phone calls—not to Mick—and refused to think about Jill. Stricken. Jittery. Damn it! About ten, he got up and went to the break room for more coffee.
Where he bumped into Rafe Santilli. The guy was pouring some of his own brew, and stepped away from the pot when he finished. He and Riley had been forced to be civil to each other because they were colleagues, but the sight of Jill's lover caused a sick feeling in his stomach. Usually Santilli made himself scarce. Not today. Instead, he leaned against the wall, and scanned the area. No one was around.
"I heard," Santilli said, his voice gravelly.
No use pretending. "About her resignation?"
"Yeah." Riley would give the man credit; he didn't look away. "I feel bad about all this," Rafe said awkwardly, in that way men had when talking about personal things.
"It's water under the bridge."
"No, not since she came back last week. Marietta said Jill told her she wanted another chance with you."
"It's too late for that."
"I'm sorry, man." He ran a hand through his thick hair. "I don't know what I would have done if Mar hadn't forgiven me."
Riley swallowed hard. "You're one of the lucky ones, I guess."
"Yeah, I guess." He started to walk away, but turned at the doorway to the break room. "She cried, you know."
"Who? Your wife?"
"No, yours. Afterward. She was horrified at what she'd done. So was I, but she was almost destroyed. She told me how much she loved you, asked why we'd done something like this. Something neither of us really seemed to want."
Riley's heart clutched in his chest. "Why did you?"
"Because we were confused. And stupid. And human, I guess." He hesitated. "I know those reasons can't account for what we did. Marietta already told me that. Still, in the end, she forgave me. All I can do is spend the rest of my life trying to atone for my actions with Jill." He stared hard at Riley. "I wish you'd give her the same chance."
Rafe left the break room, and after a bit, Riley followed him out. When he got back to his office, he was surprised to see that his grandfather was there, by the window, staring out.
Pivoting, Mick faced him. "Why the hell didn't you come over like I asked?" he said angrily.
Shaken by his conversation with Rafe, Riley crossed to his desk. "I'm raw. I don't want to talk about Jill." But it was a lie. He did.
"Well, that's too bad. I've got something to say and you're going to listen." He glanced at his watch. “I just hope it's not too late."
“Too late?"
"She's leaving town this morning. She was headed for her sister's and then the airport."
"Where's she going?”
"Back to Paris."
Paris, where they'd spent their honeymoon. And promised to stay together in sickness and in health, in good times and bad.
"Her plane leaves in a couple of hours." Mick's expression was pitying.
Riley swallowed his disappointment. "What do you want to say to me?"
The old man reached down and picked up his briefcase. From inside he withdrew something. "First look at these."
oOo
In his office, standing by his desk, Riley stared at the stack of letters Mick held in his old and weathered hands. There had to be at least fifty of them there, tied up with string. "What are they?" Riley asked.
His grandfather straightened his shoulders and placed the pile on Riley's desk. "Jill's letters to me the last year."
Mick and I corresponded while I was gone.
Riley was astounded by the volume.
Mick said, "Sit down and read those, boy. Maybe it will knock some sense into your head. I'll go get coffee." Mick left him alone. With Jill’s letters.
Riley dropped down at his desk. Gingerly he untied the stack and picked up the first piece of correspondence. It was dated October. A month after she left. He opened the envelope.
The words were handwritten, not typed, and so it was more personal. Her lovely feminine scrawl made his heart clench. So did what she'd written. I hurt so much, Mick. What have I done? How could I have cheated on the only man I ever loved?
Another, a week later…I can't stop the pain. Is he feeling this bad? Help him, please. I can't stand the thought of him suffering like this.
Slowly, he perused some of the others. Why is it that you don’t realize what you had until you lose it?…I keep thinking about all the good times and wondering why we let the problems get so out of hand.
Riley had wondered that, too. Some things had been so right between them. He read another…I can't bear the thought of going out with anybody else…Is he dating?…Does he ever talk about me?
Riley had tried dating, tried to get close to other women physically. But it didn't work for him. Or for her, apparently. Another letter…This morning, I saw a little boy by the Seine. He looked so much like Riley I cried all day thinking about never having his baby.
They should have had a child. It would have forced them to stay together, forced them to have been more flexible and understanding with each other. They should have been able to accept their differences.
He read several more, then found the last ones…I'm beginning to feel better, stronger, but I'll never get over him…I've been giving your suggestion a lot of thought…Do you really believe I should come home before the divorce is final? Is that what's best for him, Mick?
Riley looked up, his eyes stinging, his throat tight. Mick had come in and was standing on the other side of the room drinking from a mug. "This was going on the whole time she was gone?”
"Yes."
He tried to sound stern, but even to his own ears, his voice was raw. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You weren't ready to know."
"You suggested she come back to Hyde Point."
"Yep."
"You knew it would hurt me."
"I knew you were making a mistake. I raised you from the time you were six, boy. I have a right to try to keep you from ruining your life." He glanced at the clock. "So, if you're going to rectify this whole situation, you'd better get to the airport. She'll be gone soon."
Riley swallowed hard. Could he do this? Could he risk his heart again with the very woman who had trampled on it?
oOo
Jill sat inside the airport at a table with her sister. "Don't do this, honey." Molly's voice pierced the daze Jill had been in since she'd left Riley this morning. She preferred the fuzzy lack of awareness to the pain that settled upon her as soon as her head cleared.
"I have to leave. It's the least I can do for him." She sat back in the blue vinyl chair, her eyes gritty, her shoulders aching. She tried to relax, but every time she let her mind go, she thought of last night and Riley's tender lovemaking, his need, his passion. She could hardly catch her breath with the sense of loss.
"Just stay for a few weeks. Give him a chance to reconsider."
"No, that wouldn't be fair."
Damn it, she would leave here. Just as she promised him she would. Because she had changed. She wasn't the selfish young woman of ten months ago who didn't put Riley's needs above her own. He wanted her gone and she'd go. She'd do this if it killed her. Which it very well might.
Molly grasped her hand. Her eyes were worried. "I don't think you should give up."
"He's given up, Mol. After all I've done to him, I don't blame him." She gripped her sister's hand. "Now, I've got to get to the gate, and you can't come that far without a ticket." They stood and Jill felt her knees wobble; she reached out and hugged Molly hard. "Come see me soon?"
Molly's voice was threaded with tears. "I will. Take care, sis."
Jill couldn't answer. Instead, she headed through the terminal, endured the search and baggage check of the security monitors and made her way to the plane. It was all so final she could barely contain her feelings.
She reached the gate just as the PA came on. "Flight 786 to New York and on to Paris is now boarding. First class passengers…"
Jill tried to listen to the directions, tried to blank her mind of Riley. Maybe once she got out of Hyde Point, she'd start forgetting him. What his face looked like before he kissed her. How his baby blues darkened when she touched him intimately. The way he turned to her in the night. Arrgh…she had to stop this.
She made her way to the counter and had just gotten to the entrance. As she was about to hand the flight attendant her boarding pass, she heard, "Jilly!"
Her whole body froze.
"Miss, are you all right?" the attendant asked.
Jill pivoted.
And couldn't believe her eyes. Riley stood about twenty feet away. But that couldn't be. He couldn't get to the gates. She blinked. He was there. Coming closer. His big masculine strides quickly ate up the distance between them.
"Miss, you'll have to board or step aside." The attendant's voice was concerned.
Jill obediently stepped aside. Riley stopped a few yards from her. He looked beautiful, dressed in a lightweight navy suit, white shirt and tie. His hair was windblown, his cheeks ruddy. From running? And those eyes…they were shining with something she didn't dare name, didn't dare hope was in them. She said simply, "Rye?"
He held up his hand. "I had to buy a ticket to get in here."
She gulped. "Why…why are you here?"
"Because I couldn't…I need…" He shook his head, let the ticket fall to the floor and dragged something out of his breast pocket.
“What's that?" she asked.
Slowly, his big hands, that had loved her so tenderly just hours ago, ripped the papers in half. In quarters. Soon the sheaf was in shreds. Like confetti, he tossed them into the air, astounding her with the mess he made. “They’re our divorce papers."
Emotion erupted from inside her. Her eyes moistened and she began to tremble again.
He held out his arms. "Come here, Jilly."
He didn't have to ask twice. Dropping her carry-on and purse, she bolted to him. He grabbed her and lifted her up. Her arms headlocked him. Her legs clamped around his waist. He held her like a drowning man finally finding purchase. Kissing her hair, her jaw, the fold of her neck, he pulled her so close she almost couldn't breathe.
Like that, they stumbled to the chairs on the side of the terminal. He sat down, still holding her, and nestled her on his lap. She was crying now, and she felt the tremors go through him, too. For a long time, they just held on to each other, her face nuzzled in his chest, his buried in her hair.
Then he whispered in her ear, "Don't go. Don't leave me. I want to try again."
She cried so hard at that she soaked his suit. She clutched at his lapels, probably ruining them.
He soothed his hand down her hair. "We'll do better, okay? We'll talk, we'll share our fears." His voice was throaty. "We won't be stubborn or stupid about things that don't matter."
Unable to speak, she just nodded.
"We'll go back to Paris, and start over." His mouth found her ear, his breath as sweet as his words. "Maybe we'll make that baby there."
Finally, Jill could look up at him. There was so much love shining in his eyes, on his face. But she had to ask. "Can you?" She choked on the words. He pulled her close to his heart again. "Can you forgive me? What I did?"
Leaning back so he could see her face, he whispered the second-best words in the world. "Yes, I can." Then he said the first best. "I love you, Jilly. I always have and I always will."