A Thrill to Remember (16 page)

Sex. She wanted him for sex. He was either a wallet or a sex object.

You’re one to talk, Greenleaf. You started this whole mess with the intention of living out your teenage fantasy. No sense blaming her for something that’s your fault. She told you from the beginning she wasn’t looking for anything serious. You’re the one who messed things up.

His conscience scolded him, but his heart was aching so much he didn’t want to hear anything rational.

“So it’s sex you want?” His voice grated rudely in his own ears.

She nodded. Her eyes widened, looking rather frightened, but also very excited.

“Then sex is what you’ll get.”

He shouldn’t have taken her. He was too mad and he knew it but, dammit, he couldn’t help himself. This was the last time he would be intimate with her.

Caleb parted her thighs with his hands, positioned his body over hers, and then in one forceful, barbaric thrust buried himself deep within her warm wetness, in a pathetic attempt to assuage his despair.

“Oh yes!” she exclaimed, wrapping her slender arms around his neck, arching her hips upward and pulling him deeper inside her. “Yes.”

Sensation, hot and solid, spread outward from the core of his belly. He might not be able to love her forever, but he could love her tonight. And she loved him back, in her way, using her hands and her mouth. Caressing him, biting him, tugging impatiently on his hair whenever he slowed.

Nothing mattered now. Not the past. Not the future. There was only this moment.

He shifted, going from long, slow thrusts to short, quick ones.

“Yes,” she whimpered, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. “I like that. More. Deeper. Harder. I want you to fill me up. More…give me more.”

She hugged him with her love muscles, tightening around him with each thrust and parry. His heart slammed into his chest, into his ears, into his head, swamping his body with a heat so intense he felt as if he were on fire.

He stopped moving and stared down at her.

“What’s the matter?”

“Look at me.”

She raised her lashes to peer up at him, and he almost stopped breathing at the expression of sweet longing in her eyes. With his gaze fastened on her like a heat-seeking missile locked on a target, he began to move again.

She surrounded him, engulfed him, absorbed him so completely that he couldn’t say where he ended and she began. He’d never experienced anything like it. Not with anyone.

It wasn’t her sexiness—although she certainly was sexy! It wasn’t simply a testosterone dump. It wasn’t the masks or the games or the mystery of the moment. And it wasn’t even the notion that he would never have her again after tonight.

Rather it was the yearning in her eyes. The solid connection between them. The sensation that they were the only two people on the face of the earth.

It was too much to take. Particularly since she’d just made it clear she didn’t want him for anything more than sex or money. He’d spent his entire life being loved and respected only for what he could provide, never for simply being himself.

The old pain, along with this new one, knotted his chest. It was all too much emotion, too much hurt, to contemplate. He refused to think anymore.

He broke his visual bond with her then. Closing his eyes, shutting himself off, pulling away like he did when feelings got too intense.

Caleb thrust harder, faster. Meggie growled her pleasure, sounding all the world like a she-cat. She ran her nails down his back, scratching him lightly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung tight. She lifted her head off the pillow and nibbled on his bottom lip.

“Almost,” she cried. “Don’t stop.”

He was about to make her come and he’d never felt so proud, so manly. Pushing into her one last time, Caleb felt her convulse around him, just as his masculine essence shot from his body in a splurge of release.

In his blind, heady rush of energy, he cried out her name, forgetting that Don Juan was not suppose to know it. Forgetting, in fact, to use his Spanish accent. He forgot everything except that for the first and last time he and Meggie had shared the ultimate act of intimacy. He had made love to her with all his heart, mind and soul.

And the awful thing was, it hurt more excruciatingly than anything he could ever have imagined.

I DID IT . I took a walk on the wild side. I lived a little. I made my own adventure. I had a no-strings-attached affair and proved I’m not a dud in bed.

She’d gotten what she wanted.

Why then did her victory feel so hollow? Why was she aching for something more? And why couldn’t she stop wishing that the man in the bed beside her was not this dashing, unobtainable masked stranger, but rather her dear friend and confidant, Caleb Greenleaf?

Kind, sensitive, intelligent, caring Caleb.

She had thought she had wanted mindless, feel-good sex. She had thought that proving Jesse wrong was a worthy objective. Instead, she’d discovered that revenge was never sweet, and while Don Juan had indeed satisfied her most forbidden fantasies, her real craving wasn’t for adventuresome sex at all, but for true and lasting intimacy. Something she would never find through meaningless encounters with strangers.

She’d been looking for love in the wrong place, when Caleb had been right under her nose all along.

Could she be in love with Caleb?

No. That was crazy. She’d known him most of her life. If she’d been in love with him wouldn’t she have realized it long before now?

Okay, then why did she keep thinking about him? Why, in the middle of having sex with Don Juan, had she kept pretending he was Caleb? Not to mention that weird dream she’d had. And why did she continue to wonder what Caleb would say if he could see her now?

He would be so disappointed that she’d been unable to resist Don Juan’s seductive allure. Shame had her swinging her legs over the side of the bed and searching for her clothing in the darkened room.

Don Juan sat up. She refused to look at him.

“So you are going?”

“Yes.”

“I will never see you again.” It was a statement, not a question. He got up and came toward her.

“No.” She shook her head, reached around to zip the back of the flamboyant flamenco dress.

“You have taken from me what you needed.”

“Yes.” That sounded so cruel, so cold. “You’ve given me a lot, Don Juan. You’ve given me back my femininity and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

“You are welcome.” Gently, he touched her cheek. “I will always remember you fondly.”

She slipped her feet into her shoes and then turned to go. She hesitated at the door, her hand on the knob. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Adios, belladonna,” he whispered in the Spanish accent that no longer sent chills of desire pushing down her spine. “Adios.”

MEGGIE PACED THE LENGTH of Wendy’s kitchen floor, arms crossed over her chest, a thousand conflicting thoughts tumbling through her brain. She’d arrived at her friend’s apartment not long after leaving Don Juan’s bed, still dressed in her elaborate dancing costume. She’d desperately needed someone to talk to, but now that she was here, she didn’t know how to begin.

“Whoa, girlfriend,” Wendy said. “You’re gonna wear out the linoleum way ahead of its time.”

Pace, pace, pace. Hit the wall. Pivot. Pace, pace, pace. Repeat.

She liked the short rhythm of measuring off Wendy’s small kitchen in her high-heeled shoes. It kept her focused on something other than her tumultuous feelings.

“Can you at least give me a hint at what’s got you so agitated?”

Meggie opened her mouth and started to speak, but then sighed and just shook her head, not knowing how or where to start.

“What? Talk to me. How can I help if you don’t tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s all wrong,” Meggie finally said.

“What’s all wrong?”

“What I’m feeling.”

“You’re gonna have to clue me in.” Wendy’s brow dipped in an expression of concern. “What are you feeling?”

“I think I’ve fallen in love with him.”

Wendy gasped. “Oh, Meggie, I knew you were going to lose your heart. You’re just not the kind of girl who can love ’em and leave ’em.”

Irritated, Meggie waved a hand. “That’s where you’re wrong. I used Don Juan to bolster my damaged ego and I thanked him and walked away.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”

“But I thought you said you thought you were falling in love with him.”

She shook her head. “Not Don Juan.”

“Then who?”

“Caleb.”

“What?” Wendy looked as shocked as Meggie felt.

“I know. It’s illogical, irrational, but there it is. I’m in love with him.”

“Wow.”

“The awful thing is, he doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

“How do you know?”

“I kissed him,” Meggie admitted. “And he backed off. Quick. Told me he’d met someone else.”

“Ouch.”

Meggie bit her bottom lip to keep from crying. “I feel like such an idiot.”

“Are you sure Caleb doesn’t have feelings for you? If he just met this woman, surely it’s not that serious. What if you told him how you felt?”

“I can’t do that,” Meggie wailed.

“Why not?”

Why not indeed?

Because she was afraid to put her heart on the line. Afraid of getting hurt again. How did she know that what she was feeling for Caleb was real and not some weird case of transference? But all the signs of real love were there, weren’t they? Her heart skipped a beat whenever she heard his name. She’d melted when they’d kissed. She had erotic dreams about him.

He took a risk for you, Meggie. Remember that night atop the Space Needle when he dared to brave those heights? Take a chance on him. He might surprise you.

“You owe it to you both to at least go and talk to him,” Wendy said. “Ask yourself this—what have you got to lose if you don’t?”

Meggie eyed her friend, swallowed hard and whispered, “Everything.”

“I’M SORRY, MA’AM. Mr. Greenleaf has checked out.”

“Checked out?” Numbly, Meggie stared at the desk clerk. “What do you mean, checked out?”

“Mr. Greenleaf paid his bill and vacated the premises about…” the man consulted his watch “…an hour ago.”

“No. There must be some mistake. He has one more lecture to give. He’s not supposed to leave town until the middle of the week.”

Even to her own ears her voice sounded high and desperate. The desk clerk probably thought she was a certified nutcase.

The clerk shrugged. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Maybe he moved to another hotel. Did he leave a number where he could be reached?” She curled her fingers around the counter and stood on tiptoes to peer over the desk, as if the paperwork stretched out in neat piles might reveal some clue about Caleb’s unexpected departure.

“No. He left no forwarding number.”

“Oh.” Meggie let out a sigh and settled the soles of her shoes back down on the ground. She felt as if she’d just taken a swift kick to the solar plexus. Where had Caleb gone?

Perhaps he’s staying with his new girlfriend. The thought hit her like a sledgehammer.

“Wait.” The clerk pulled a yellow Post-it off the edge of a nearby computer screen. “Are you Meggie Scofield?”

She pressed a hand to her throat. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“It seems Mr. Greenleaf left a package for you.”

“A package? For me?” she parroted.

“Just a minute. I’ll get it from the back room.”

“Okay.”

The clerk disappeared through a door behind the desk. Meggie glanced down at her hands and was surprised to find them trembling.

Calm down. Don’t jump to conclusions.

A couple of minutes later the desk clerk returned with a brown paper bag. “Here you are, Ms. Scofield.”

Meggie took the sack and went to sit down in a plush upholstered chair in the lobby. She set the sack on the floor, opened it up and removed a pair of shiny, knee-length leather boots.

What the heck?

Her pulse skipped erratically. What was this?

Next she extracted a pair of black leather drawstring pants, a black cape and a white, puffy-sleeved pirate’s shirt. By the time she reached the bottom of the bag and the black leather mask, Meggie literally could not breathe.

She stared at the evidence in her hand, at first choosing not to comprehend what it meant. Then she sucked in a shuddering breath.

Oh no! Oh no! It couldn’t be!

Don Juan and Caleb, one and the same? Just like in her dream?

Disbelief knifed her belly.

Caleb simply could not be Don Juan. No way. There had to be another explanation. Honest, trustworthy Caleb would never have deceived her this way.

The main question was, why?

Why had this kind, understated man gone to great lengths to hide his real self? Why the charade? Was it because he simply wanted an erotic adventure of his own before finding a wife and settling down for good? Meggie cringed to realize she had been far more than eager to oblige.

Or was there a more deep-seated reason?

Denial is not just a river in Egypt, honey.

Meggie rubbed her fingers over the leather mask and clamped her lips closed over a deep, mournful moan. Her life was filled with lies, lies and more lies. The lies Caleb had told her. The lies she’d told herself.

She had wanted so desperately to believe in a fantasy, to relish the way he made her feel as a sexual being, that she had been too selfish to see beyond the mask to the real man beneath. In an attempt to assuage her emotional pain and bolster her self-confidence, she’d accepted Don Juan at face value. She’d gone seeking shallow pleasures, telling herself it was all in the name of living a little.

She hadn’t wanted to look beyond surface appearance. Why else had she insisted they make love in the dark after the Halloween party? Why else had she refused to remove his mask last night, even after he’d begged her to?

That’s when she realized the startling truth. Somewhere deep down inside her, in the part that had ached to live out her wildest fantasies, she’d secretly known all along that Don Juan was Caleb. She had wanted the pleasure without accepting the responsibility of a real relationship, so she had willingly indulged in his pretense.

And now they were both in pain. Suffering for their perilous masquerade.

She had no one to blame for this mess but herself.

CALEB SNOWSHOED through the forest. He’d gotten reports of poachers in the area, and he was checking out the sightings, but his heart wasn’t in his work. He missed Meggie something fierce. Missed her and hated himself for his weakness.

It had been almost two weeks since he’d left Seattle and returned home to Bear Creek. Two weeks, and he hadn’t heard a word from her. He told himself he was glad, that it was for the best. But he was lying.

For the hundred millionth time, he imagined her sitting in the lobby of the Claremont Hotel, looking through the paper bag, realizing for the first time that he was her masked lover.

His gut twisted at the thought of her pain.

She probably despised him. Probably felt pretty darn betrayed.

Well, no more than he. Caleb had thought Meggie was different. That if any woman could accept him for the man he was and not for the money he’d made, Meggie would have been the one. When she’d told him she needed security, she’d as good as turned his soul inside out and stomped on it with both feet.

Yeah? Well, buddy boy, how can you expect her to accept you for your authentic self when you deceived her? Lies don’t breed trust.

How many countless times had he had this argument with himself since returning home? A thousand? Ten thousand?

He should let the whole thing go, stop poking and prodding the snafu with his mind. It was better this way. They’d had great sex. Both of them had gotten their needs met. Problem was, he’d romanticized the situation, made out their loving to be more than it was.

So why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about her—and wishing things could be different?

Caleb snorted, disgusted with himself. He’d manufactured this house of cards. He shouldn’t have been surprised when it came tumbling down. Solid relationships were built on honesty and trust. They had neither. Because without honesty, how could you trust someone?

He tramped through the forest, not really noticing where he was going. The wind gusted with the waning daylight. He snuggled deeper into his parka and raised his head to see where he was. He should be getting back to the ranger station before nightfall.

That’s when he saw where his subconscious had been leading him.

To the clearing in the woods. To the skaters’ cabin where he and Meggie had first become intimate. He stared at the cabin, remembering, and a fresh tear rendered his heart in two.