Damon, Lee (12 page)

She shifted her gaze down to where her hands were tightly gripping each other in her lap, and waited with trepidation for him to break the fraught silence. Perhaps she had angered him by implying that he had been unkind or thoughtless. It had all been so long ago that it would be stupid to pick a fight now over an adolescent disappointment. No, dammit, more than just a disappointment.

She flicked a quick look at him. He was concentrating on the road, but a muscle was twitching in his cheek, and his mouth was still tight. She shifted around and stared unseeingly out the window. After her vivid recollections of the night before, the details of the ending to that last summer were fresh in her mind. Thinking about it now, with the hindsight of experience, she knew she couldn't have been wrong—he had been as emotionally involved and as aroused as she had been. He had taken them to the edge, and she had been willing... no, more than willing... eager, flamingly eager, to fall over that edge with him.

Resting her elbow on the top of the door, she pressed her fist against her mouth and closed her eyes, feeling again his weight on her, the soft brushing of fur against her bare breasts, her heated response to his coaxing tongue and, most of all, the hot, aching need that had thrust her hips against his hardness. She had been so lost in her first experience of passion and in her feelings for O'Mara that she'd been unaware of practical details. She never remembered who'd pushed his shirt off or why her legs were suddenly bare and no longer constrained by her skirt. It was his voice, almost unrecognizable, groaning hoarsely in her ear, "Kitt, my Kitt, we can't," that had brought her to a hazy realization that they were almost naked in each other's arms.

She must have made a sound, and O'Mara's questioning "Kitt?" brought her abruptly back to the present. Cautiously, she turned her head to meet his gaze, not sure how much her face was revealing. Quite a lot, apparently. She bit her lip and looked away from the amused understanding in his eyes.
Damn him, I don't even have private thoughts anymore.
She forced herself to look back at him, only to find that he was again concentrating on the road, but now, his expression was no longer angry or bitter. And since he already knew where her mind had been, and they had more or less already started the discussion....

"What happened?" It came out as a husky whisper.

He glanced at her quickly and then turned back to face front. She was puzzled at what seemed to be an expression almost of self-disgust.

"Oh, the nobility of man," he finally said sardonically. "I was trying, Lord help us, to be fair to you. At least, that's how I started out. You were so damn young in so many ways, and I'd been fighting my own battles for what seemed like forever—I was determined to 'make it.' I'm not sure if I even knew exactly what that meant to me then. Getting to the point where I didn't have to worry about next month's rent and feeling that I was doing something productive, I guess. But one thing I was sure of, I couldn't afford a wife, and there was no other way I could have taken you to Washington with me. Besides, I didn't think it was fair to you to tie you down with that kind of commitment, then."

She gasped, and his attention was momentarily diverted from the road as he scanned her startled expression. "Oh, yes," he said softly, looking back at the road. "I thought about it. Quite seriously. But... it wasn't that I didn't want you with me, Kitt... I did... but you were just beginning college, and you hadn't had a chance to date anyone but Ez's friends or me. I wanted you to have your college years and a chance to meet other men and make sure that what you felt for me was strong enough and important enough to last a lifetime."

"How were you going to find out if you never saw me or kept in touch?"

"That's the biggest mistake I ever made," he said bleakly. "Do you remember when I wrote you that I wanted to come up to Massachusetts that first Christmas to see you, but I couldn't get time off? I planned to take a few days when you were home for spring break. But then, just after the first of the year, I was approached by... a government agency, and offered a different kind of job. They were interested in my abilities and educational background, they said, but most of all they were interested in the fact that I had no family ties or close friends who would become concerned if I disappeared for periods of time."

"O'Mara, were you a—"

"Don't ask," he cut her off. "I still can't talk about it in any specific detail. Let's just leave it that it was a very high-risk occupation, and the money was fantastic. It was also supposed to be for a limited time—no more than four years of active work out of the country. After that, I could stay on in a position near Washington, or they would help me get into something else. At the time, it seemed too good to turn down."

"You're mad. From what you said the other evening, it was dangerous," Kitt wailed.

"Don't get upset
now."
He chuckled. "Oh, I know it wasn't at all sensible, but then, neither was I in those days. It seemed like a heaven-sent opportunity. By the time I was through with the basic commitment, you'd be graduating and we'd have enough money to start a life together without having to budget too tightly." He hit the steering wheel with his fist and groaned, "Talk about blind, one-track minds! Don't think I haven't kicked myself purple more than once over the years."

"You never considered that you might meet someone else?" she asked wistfully, thinking of all they might have had, if only....

"No!" The explosive exclamation scattered her thoughts and brought her attention back to what he was saying. "And, since this seems to be a moment of truth, I'll tell you that Laura wasn't really 'someone else.' She was fun, a good-time girl, someone to laugh and relax with while I was recovering from some... injuries. It wasn't serious for either of us— just a casual couple of weeks in the sun. When I left, I had no plans to see her again."

Kitt leaned back in her seat, gazing out the window and becoming aware, for the first time, of the road they were traveling.

"This is Route One," she said, puzzled. "Where are we going?"

"Ogunquit Beach. It's a beautiful beach for walking. Have you been there yet?"

"No, not yet," she said absently. She turned to look at him, her expression becoming more alert and a bit quizzical. "If it wasn't serious, how come you ended up married to her?"

He glanced over at her with a rueful tilt to his mouth. "You might call it an accident." His eyes returned to the road as he continued, "I was back in Washington a few months later on another leave, and a friend invited me to a party. Laura was there, and we sort of picked up where we'd left off. I was only going to be around for a few weeks, and she didn't care for long-term relationships."

He glanced at Kitt again and smiled slightly at the disbelieving look on her face. "I told you, she was a good-time gal. Fun and games and no involvements. She wanted bright lights, parties, lots of laughs... and someone to pick up the checks."

"So how did she—and you—end up married and expecting a baby? If she was that much of a play girl, I should have thought she'd know how to take care of herself."

"One would think so. But evidently she had a bit too much to drink one weekend and forgot to take her pills. She didn't realize it until way too late. At least, I considered it too late. She came raging to me to pay for an abortion, and I refused. It took me some time to convince her that I had a right to an opinion, and even longer to talk her into marrying me. She only agreed because I promised that she'd be free to go after the baby was born."

Kitt stared at him blankly and then started to laugh. "O'Mara," she gasped, "only you would make that kind of a deal. It's usually the man who wants out and only marries to give a baby a name—and a lot of them don't even do that. Whatever did you plan on doing with a baby and no mother?"

"Just what I did—find a motherly woman as housekeeper and nurse." He took a deep breath and let it out in a gusty sigh. "I know it sounds crazy, but you have to understand-that was my baby, and I had no other family. Maybe it had something to do with being orphaned so young, or maybe it's just that we all need at least one person who belongs to us and to whom we belong. You should know what I mean—no matter what happens, you've got Ez and vice versa."

"You're right, and I do understand how you felt. Furthermore, since meeting Gus, I have to say that it was all worth it. He's super."

"You two seem to have a mutual admiration society going. He spent half of yesterday making plans for the summer, and at least eighty-two percent of them included you and Hero." He tossed a quick grin at her as he slowed in the center of Ogunquit Village to make the left turn to the beach parking lot.

"Love me, love my dog," she said, laughing.

"I adore your dog. He's a total eccentric." His lips twitched in an effort to restrain a grin, and he quickly flipped his elbow up to block the punch she aimed at his arm. "Control yourself for a few minutes. If you've got that much energy, I'll let you chase me down the beach. It'll help work up your appetite for breakfast."

He swung the car into the parking lot and stopped at the edge facing the sea. The predawn light was pearling the sky above a dead-calm ocean. Seagulls wheeled and dipped, their raucous cries breaking the expectant hush of the new day.

She sat quietly, letting her gaze drift over the wide expanse of gray water broken here and there by the jutting of black ledges. Off to her right, the sea lapped against huge, tumbled rocks around the base of a headland. Amused, she briefly noted the mixture of architectural styles of the many buildings topping the low cliff. She turned to look past O'Mara at a large, three-story motel which faced the road and parking lot on one side and the wide beach on another.

Stubbornly, determined for once not to let him have it all his own way, she refused to meet his eyes, which she could positively
feel
traveling over her face. In a way, he had explained several things that had troubled her for a long time. Now, despite her understanding of his motivations and the unkind workings of fate that had kept them apart, she still felt somehow cheated. Cheated of the life they could have been sharing all these years, cheated of the joy of knowing that Gus—and perhaps other children—could have been hers, cheated of the ecstasy of learning about love and passion and caring from the man who should have been her teacher. And, inevitably, she resented what seemed like arrogance on his part in deciding the course of their lives without even discussing it with her. Perhaps, if her experience with Leon had left her with just one remotely happy memory...

"Kitt, don't, please." There was a note of pain in his low voice, and it finally drew her eyes to him, wondering at his harsh, self-accusatory expression. She could not know how clearly her thoughts had been mirrored in her face.

He reached out to press his hand against her cheek. "It
was
all my fault. I can't believe I could have been so damn stupid. Especially now that I've finally found you again and realize—"

"Don't look like that!" she interrupted urgently, reaching for his free hand and holding it tightly with both of hers. "All right. It was dumb and damn stupid and... oh, hell, yes, I'm mad. You had no right to decide such a thing for me. But that was then and this is now, and... well, one minute I think it's the same with us, but then I know that we've... I've got a major problem, and I don't think it
can
be the same."

He started to speak, and she shook her head violently, a look of despair clouding her eyes. "Oh, why, why, couldn't you have tried to contact me again before it was too late?"

"I did, Kitt. But by the time I got everything sorted out, and Gus settled and me out of my commitments, you and Ez had graduated and I couldn't find you. I tried to contact your parents, and that was the first I knew that they had died." He tightened his fingers around her hand. "I'm sorry about that. I liked them, although I knew they didn't think I was half good enough for their daughter. No family, no money, no established future."

"That wouldn't have mattered to me, you know. Besides, how do you know that they felt that way? They never said anything to me... or to Ez. He'd have told me."

"There are some things that don't have to be said." One corner of his mouth tilted. "I know it wouldn't have mattered to you, but I guess, in a way, it did influence some of my thinking. Kitt? I did try, but I didn't know how to reach anyone else in your family."

"It's okay. Well, maybe not entirely, but it's a bit late now to get all upset about it. What's done is done. Oh," she groaned, "how I hate platitudes."

His expression suddenly lightened, and he finally managed a full smile. "I have a strong feeling that you're going to make me pay for my mistakes, and I'm not at all sure it's going to be anything I'll enjoy. You, my love, when you put your mind to it, can be every bit as outrageous as Ez on his best day."

It was useless. Try as she might, she simply could not stay angry with him, and at last she started laughing. "You're right, and I'm going to give it a lot of thought. And you'll get no warning, O'Mara."

"Nasty witch," he growled, still smiling. He glanced around at the sky and exclaimed, "Damn! All this soul-searching will have to wait. We've only got a few minutes left. Let's get down the beach a ways before the sun rises."

They got out of the car, followed by Hero, who immediately charged at a large beige seagull strutting across the pavement. The gull flapped into the air with insulting ease, and Hero quickly turned to race after Kitt and O'Mara as they headed for the steps to the beach.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Kitt exclaimed as she gazed up the endless sweep of beach and dunes to her left.

"I knew you'd like it," O'Mara said with a laugh. He sobered and looked into her eyes for a timeless minute before saying softly, "It reminds me of another beach we walked one night."

Before she could think of a reply, he caught her hand and, pulling her after him, began running along the hard-packed sand in an easy, ground-eating lope. Within a few strides, she picked up the rhythm, and their long legs moved in unison as she ran easily beside him. Hero raced ahead of them, dashing in and out of the shallow wash from the small waves escaping from the unruffled sea.