Secret Garden (30 page)

“Please,” she whispered to him. Her fingers shaky, she unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers.

Without a word, he stripped off the rest of his clothes. She leaned back on one elbow, drinking in his body. In the flickering candlelight, he looked so beautiful. Long, muscular legs. Everything just...perfect. She’d studied figure drawing as a correspondence course, but she’d never...she’d never...

Tentatively, she touched him. Stroked the length of him, ending with her palm on the smooth head, damp with a bead of male fluid. She rubbed her palm over it, and he sucked in his breath.

A look of ecstasy took over his face. She reached below him and gently cupped his testicles.

“Ah, Rhiannon,” he breathed. “How did I live without you?”

“Not as well,” she said cheerfully.

He laughed and then caught her mouth in his, rolling her over onto her back, drawing up her knees on either side of her, exposing her in a way that was vulnerable.

He drew back, upright on his knees. Reaching for his discarded trousers, the metal zipper making a clinking noise, he fumbled in the pockets.

“A condom,” he said solemnly. “Will you help me?”

Her heart feeling full, she nodded, her head back on the pillows. He guided her hands over his. “Place them on mine,” he said. She kept the connection with him, through his eyes, through his hands, through the warmth of his body touching hers.

Gently, the condom was unrolled. Sheathed.

“Rhiannon,” he whispered in a shaking voice, “I...don’t want to hurt...”

“You won’t.” But oh, she wanted him. She didn’t feel in the least afraid. If she could walk over the estate line with her heart as full and as happy as she felt right now, then they both would be in a fine place, indeed.

Settling in, she raised her hips and guided him in. Slowly, so slowly. She kept her eyes on Colin’s, the connection between them a taut, emotional line.

His body, joining hers, filled her. A feeling of fullness, of completion. A tiny bit of pain at first, but it eased as her body stretched and adapted to his.

“Oh, Rhiannon.” He kissed her deeply, his arms trembling. He kept still, waiting for her to feel ready. And then the pleasure returned. She moved slowly, then with more urgency, meeting his thrusts. There was more pleasure this time, and she kept going. She took charge, a completion of what they’d started in the car earlier. And once she’d surrendered to it, letting Colin’s body bring her to bliss, suffusing over her, it was a thing of beauty.

She sighed. Utterly content, she nestled her cheek against the warmth of his chest.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

R
HIANNON NEVER DID
go back to sleeping alone again. For the remainder of their two weeks together, they shared rooms, though she did prefer staying in the little, odd guest room that no one but she and Colin had ever slept inside.

The romance of a new place that they’d set up together was what drew her. Bit by bit she fixed it up as if they really were a couple. A silly fantasy—given that she had yet to leave the estate with him. But she pretended that she had. She moved in a small chest of drawers, filled it with some clothes. Turned the bed so that the morning rays woke them through the east-facing window. Colin took the side closest to the door; Rhiannon, to the left of him.

She never tired of falling asleep in his arms. Of discovering the pleasures of becoming physically closer to him. Making love before the dawn when they were both still sleepy. In the shower, while they washed each other and laughed under the spray of her waterfall showerhead.

She felt as if she were in heaven, so content. Inside her heart, she was preparing to leave. She’d completed all eight of the small portraits. And on their last Friday together, she lined them up in her studio and gazed at them.

Colin, her aging cat. Molly, her mother’s dog. Both her parents, painted from a digital photograph she kept on her computer. Jamie and Jessie, painted from a studio session, and Paul’s portrait completed the same way.

The eighth portrait was of Malcolm, even though technically he didn’t live at the castle anymore. Still, he’d been part of her day-to-day life for so long, she felt as if she was finally saying goodbye to him as well.

“Don’t make it into too big a deal,” Colin warned her. “Don’t build
leaving
into so much that it scares you.”

“I’m not thinking about the
act
of leaving,” she said. Meaning, the actual property line she needed to cross. “I’m thinking about the
place
I’m leaving—my reclusive refuge.” Saying goodbye to the person she’d been for so long—most of her life. “It’s going to be a challenge for me to stay calm when I’m away from my garden.”

“All I can say,” Colin said, “is that when I’m at a tournament, and I need to stay calm, I keep my thoughts focused on the hole I’m playing. If I thought back to the last hole I’d played, or the hole yet to come, then I’d lose my concentration and not be able to play at all.”

“Given that analogy, I suppose I’m stuck at the seventeenth hole, unable to move on to the eighteenth.”

“That was in the past,” Colin said quickly. “This time, we have a plan.”

* * *

T
HEY DID INDEED
have a plan. One that involved whisking Rhiannon to the cabin in the desert without coming into contact with hardly anyone except Colin. They’d thoroughly discussed the logistics. From private car to plane to car again, with just the two of them inside.

Colin walked from the outbuilding where he and Rhiannon had been living for most of the past two weeks, over to the rental car he was loading with his and Rhiannon’s luggage.

His foot had healed and felt much better now. It still wasn’t in top form—and neither was his swing—but he’d arranged a sweet little rental cottage for them in the Sedona Desert of Arizona for the next four weeks while he trained and prepared for his tournament.

Beyond that, who knew? He didn’t think of anything beyond that.

For now, it was enough they were leaving the castle together.

Rhiannon wanted a big ceremony and he’d been unable to talk her out of it. Her thinking was that if everyone was there to see her “succeed,” then she would be less apt to lose control and “fail.”

Her words, not his. Rhiannon was more conscientious, more black-and-white in her thinking and less carefree than he was, and probably always would be. It was her personality, and he appreciated her for who she was. He didn’t argue.

She’d arranged to have the people in her castle life present today: Jamie and Jessie; Paul the butler. Paul even carried her pets outside to see her off. Rhiannon said goodbye to everyone, but she sobbed hardest of all at leaving her aging cat.

It was just impossible to bring him. Even if he survived the trauma of the long flight, there were quarantine laws for animals.

Rhiannon’s uncle had arranged for Colin and Rhiannon to fly privately on the Sage family’s company jet. John Sage still didn’t like Colin, but it was clear that Sage would always adore his niece. And when Rhiannon had told her uncle that Colin came as part of her “package,” what was Sage to do?

Colin watched Rhiannon as she gently set Colin the cat on the ground, then wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and straightened.

“We’ll call him on internet videophone every night,” Colin reassured her.

Rhiannon sniffed. “I know.”

Molly the dog was next, and Rhiannon gave her a big hug, too.

“Let’s go,” she said, turning to Colin, “before I change my mind.”

They walked over to the rental car, where Jessie and Jamie waited. Jessie was dabbing at her eye with a white handkerchief.

“Come on now,” Colin said. “We’re visiting again in September, after my first two tournaments are over. We’re not leaving forever.”

“It’s not the same,” Jessie cried. She and Rhiannon hugged each other tight.

That was another change in Rhiannon. Colin had never seen her touch anyone much at all when he first arrived at the castle. Now she did it at the drop of a hat.

“It’s all those female hormones,” Jamie muttered. Stoically, he held out his hand to Colin. “Goodbye, lad. You’ll be coming home for Christmas this year, aye?”

“Yeah,” Colin said. “Hogmanay, too.”

“Of course.” Jamie drew himself up in outrage, as if any other option was heresy. He gave Colin a sideways glance. “And what about Daisie Lee?”

Colin sighed. “She’s welcome to come with us if she’d like.” He planned to make the offer to her—he and his other grandmother were the only two people Daisie Lee had left in her life. “If my mom doesn’t want to come, I’ll be sorry to spend the holidays without her this year. But that’s the way it will have to be.”

It was clear he was engaged in a new balancing act. That was the choice he’d made. The life he wanted to commit to.

“Are you ready, Rhiannon?” he called to her.

“In a moment.” She trotted over to Jamie, still wiping her eyes.

“Now, Jamie,” she began, “you’ll be helping Paul with anything that needs doing at the castle? At least until my father returns end of August, I mean.”

“Aye,” Jamie agreed.

“And you’ll remind Jessie to take her medication. You’ll drive her to her doctor’s visits as scheduled?”

With anyone else but Rhiannon, Jamie would have taken offense at the implication that he couldn’t see to taking care of his own wife. But Jamie would always have a soft spot in his heart for Rhiannon. “Aye, lass. She’ll be fine. Don’t worry about her.”

Colin glanced back at his nana. Rhiannon had finally gotten Jamie to confess that Jessie was being treated for a heart condition, and that this diagnosis had been the initial trigger that drove her to make up the story about his father in order to get Colin to Scotland in the first place.

Colin shook his head. It seemed so long ago—weeks ago. He’d forgiven all, and in doing so, his life was already better. Everything he wanted was in front of him.

“Ready, Rhiannon?” he asked. He had her on his side. And now they were leaving so he could fight his way back into the golf world. He was itching to get started again. He missed it—the tournament play, the competition—with a fierceness that surprised him.

Rhiannon gave him a goofy smile. He shut the trunk of the car. Between the trunk and the backseat, eight small portraits had somehow fit inside, along with four big suitcases of clothing, his golf clubs and all of Rhiannon’s art supplies so she could paint in the desert.

Rhiannon gave him a long embrace. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of her scent, sifted her long dark hair in his hands.

He would miss this place, the Shangri-la where he’d spent most of the happiest times of his life. Part of him regretted tearing her from the roots, but Rhiannon wasn’t meant to be a recluse. Getting her into the wide world with him really was the best thing for her.

He took her aside so they could speak in private. He meant to give her one last pep talk. All good coaches gave inspirational speeches, and she deserved no less.

Clasping her hand, he faced the top of the long driveway with her.

“We’ll walk together up the hill,” she said. “Won’t we?”

That was the plan. He gazed into her eyes, nodding, and gently squeezed her hand. “Do you remember what we talked about, how you’ll be taking your secret garden with you?”

She nodded, too, so he continued in a low voice, as soothing as he could make it. “The whole world can be your secret garden, Rhiannon. Always remember that, and you’ll keep the good feeling with you.”

The tip of her tongue darted out, licked nervously at her lips. “What if I can’t?” she said. “Will you still accept me as I am?”

No. Don’t go there, Rhiannon. Failure isn’t an option.

But he maintained his smile for her. “I appreciate you for who you are. This mistaken view of yourself as a recluse isn’t who you are.”

A line grew in her forehead. “Mistaken view? How can you say that?”

Oh, he’d screwed up. But Colin kept up his smile and squeezed her hand again. “Look at me. I’ve watched a strong woman navigate the thorniest of problems, with friends and strangers alike.”

“The panic is real,” she whispered.

Yes. He knew that. Though it wasn’t the same thing, standing in front of an audience of millions where a putt was do-or-die could be panic-inducing, too.

But he didn’t say any of that—wouldn’t try to make that comparison. Instead, he would speak to her from his heart. Put it all out there, feeling as vulnerable and scared as when he’d been that little kid whose dad had left him, on this very same driveway while she’d been there, too.

“Do you love me, Rhiannon? Am I enough for you?” he asked, a catch in his voice.

Her lips quivered. “Oh, Colin.” She gazed into his eyes for a long time. “You’re more than enough,” she said quietly. “You’re everything I’ve dreamed of. You’re the reason I’m inspired to leave my estate—so I can be with you.”

There was a lump in his throat, the kind you didn’t just swallow away quickly. Running his hand through his hair, he nodded to Rhiannon, blinking. His vision was blurry for some strange reason.

“I’m ready,” she said gently to him. “Let’s walk up the hill together.”

She squeezed his hand and started the trek with him.

It was a long walk directly into the setting sun. Like following the rainbow to see what was on the other side, except that rainbows were an illusion and there was never another side. Just bright shiny colors that dazzled and then disappeared into the ether without warning.

But his rainbow hadn’t disappeared yet. Maybe this time it wouldn’t disappear. Maybe perfect happiness really was possible.

That was what it felt like to Colin. The property line was there, shimmering in the heat ahead of them. They were aiming for it together.

Rhiannon stepped over the border onto the roadway...

Time seemed suspended. A car drove past them.
Whoosh.

Rhiannon recoiled.

“Look at me,” Colin said. “Look into my eyes. Stay with me... We’ll be fine, as long as we’re together.”

Another car drove past them, faster this time. Another
whoosh. What in the hell?
Colin thought.