“Jared…” He watched her swallow convulsively; saw the regret that filled her eyes, and the tears.
“No!” he growled.
Straightening abruptly he jerked her into the shower, ignoring her gasp, pushing aside the knowledge that no matter how hard he wanted, how much he loved, that it was time for her to go.
“I’ll always be here.” His arms wrapped around her, pulled her against his chest as he maneuvered his body to protect her from the full force of the water. “Always Kimber. I’ll be right here, baby, anytime you need me. Anyway you want me. I’ll be here.”
Her arms tightened around his shoulders, holding fiercely to him as he felt the heat of her tears against his chest. God surely hadn’t meant for a man to have to endure this sorrow? He prayed for mercy, because he couldn’t cry with her.
* * * * *
Leaving the farm was the hardest thing Kimberly had ever done in her life. She didn’t think she would have the strength to do it. Not after the past night. Not after the realizations she had come to herself.
But she did it. She threw her suitcase into the SUV where Matthews sat waiting on her. The others had left hours before, eager to get back to the offices, file their reports and head into more adventurous assignments. Kimberly hadn’t been able to tear herself away as easily.
Jared stood behind her silently. He had watched her pack, his expression worn, his gaze turbulent. But he hadn’t made any demands, hadn’t asked for any promises, he was simply letting her go. Reluctantly, she could tell, but he was letting her go.
She turned back to him as she closed the rear door, staring up at him, realizing that the pain in her chest was more than just regret. It was a hollow, gaping wound she feared would never ease.
“Remember to let Mother know when you’re back in town,” he told her softly. “She worries, even if she never says anything.”
Kimberly nodded, smiling though her heart was breaking. “First thing,” she agreed.
“And don’t drive too fast,” he growled. “Matthews told me you scared the hell out of him on the way up here. The man has a family to feed you know. Stop risking his life.”
She would have laughed if it hadn’t hurt so damned bad.
“And remember, you always have a place to stay here,” he finished. “Anytime, Kimber. All the time.”
She wanted to weep at the softness of his voice.
“Jared…” There was so much she wanted to say.
“No.” He shook his head regretfully, reaching out to touch her cheek with a caress so light, so tender she felt it rock her soul. “Just remember that, baby. You know where I’m at if you need me. Always.”
She had to look away from him or she would never hold back her tears. How was she walking away from him? She could feel everything inside her screaming out in rage that she would do so.
“Go,” he said then. “You’ll be late getting back if you don’t leave soon.”
Her lips trembled as she turned back to him. She blinked fiercely to hold back her tears, fighting her head and her heart as she stared up at him.
She loved him. She could feel the emotion exploding within her, violently protesting the decision to leave, to stand firm to the vow she had made so long ago.
“I want…” He cut her words off, laying his fingers against her lips as he flinched slightly.
“Don’t, Kimber,” he whispered. “Don’t make letting you go impossible for me to do. Or for you to do. There’s always tomorrow. We aren’t saying goodbye, remember?”
She licked her lips, feeling her soul shatter. God help her. He loved her. She could see it in his eyes, in that crooked, pain-filled smile that was hers alone. It was hers alone because he loved her.
She was barely aware of the whimper that left her throat but there was no mistaking the strength, the need in his body as he jerked her against him, holding her tight to his chest, sheltering her with his big body as one hand held her head to him.
“Listen to me,” he growled fiercely. “You don’t have to say anything, Kimber. You don’t have to do anything. Come back when you need to. Know I’ll be here. That’s all. Damn you, this isn’t forever. I won’t let it be.”
He pulled her head back, his fingers tangling in her hair, destroying the perfection of the intricate braid she had painstakingly worked the strands into. But she didn’t care. He was holding her, his lips were on hers, his tongue taking possession of her mouth, wiping away the destructive agony piercing her soul. It wasn’t goodbye. Not yet.
One hand gripped her hip, rocking her against his erection as his mouth ate at hers, his groan vibrating against her lips as the hunger that raged between them began to gnaw at her resolve.
“Damn, you’re going to send me up in flames right here in my driveway, woman. Is that any example for me to set for my work hands?” He dragged his lips from hers, a weary, entirely false spurt of laughter leaving his lips as he stared down at her. “I’m too old for this, baby. Now get out of here, so I can get some work done.”
He stepped back from her, ripping her heart from her chest when he did so.
“Go on,” his voice softened as he nodded at the jeep. “I’ll see you soon.”
She backed away. She couldn’t turn away from him.
“Soon?” She heard the desperate plea in her own voice.
“Very soon, baby,” he promised. “Anytime you need me.”
“What about when you need me?” she wondered aloud.
His expression flinched. A subtle expression of pain that had her stilling the cry in her throat.
“I’ll always need you, Kimber,” he said softly, roughly. “Always.”
* * * * *
She had turned away from him. Walked away. With every step she felt the regret grow, felt the knowledge weighing on her soul. She was making the same choice five generations of women before her had made. She was choosing the past over the future.
The further she drove away from him, the more that knowledge was driven home. In the space of a year, he had steadily weakened her resolve, shown her laughter, patience, and a hunger she hadn’t known could exist. He had filled her dreams, waking and asleep, and he had reshaped her views of herself.
“What now?” she asked aloud, unwilling to hold back the pain, unable to bear the separation in silence.
“Only you can answer that one, Kimberly.” Matthews reminded her that she wasn’t alone, and that the rest of the world wasn’t blind. “He’s a good man. I hope you know that.”
She glanced over at him, seeing the compassion and sympathy in his eyes.
“He’s the best,” she said slowly, her gaze returning to the road as her fingers clenched on the steering wheel.
“My daddy always said anything worth having was worth waiting on,” he finally said philosophically. “Guess you’ll have to find that one out for yourself though, huh?”
Jared was worth waiting on, but for what reason? She shook her head as she watched the road, counting the miles as they separated her from the farm and the man awaiting her there. He was worth waiting on. But was she?
Chapter Seventeen
Briar Cliff. A week later, Kimberly turned into the long driveway that led to the stately Pennsylvania estate. Huge oaks lined the paved road, casting a dappled pattern of sunlight and shade over the dark path. She had once found it comforting, the sheltering limbs as they spread over the road, embracing each arrival. Now, she found it oppressive, restraining.
Pulling into the long circular driveway, Kimberly drew in a deep breath as she attempted to control the emotions overwhelming her. She hadn’t returned to the home she had been raised in, since her mother’s death. The conditions of the Trust would have allowed her to live there; her father would have preferred it because he could not continue residence there without her. Which had been one of the main reasons she had refused to stay.
It hurt, remembering the past. For years she had tried to block the memories, to keep from reliving the pain and fear she had known as a child. To keep from remembering her mother, so frail and fragile, huddled in a corner, her arms wrapped around her body as tears streamed down her face.
She shook her head. She wasn’t here to remember, yet somehow she knew that was inescapable.
Opening the door to her beat-up sedan, she stepped outside and stared around the grounds with a sense of déjà vu. She could hear her childish laughter, her mother’s voice calling out to her, filled with amusement and…love?
Kimmie, you know your father won’t like you climbing that tree. Was it laughter? Her chest tightened with the remembrance of the smug undertones of her mother’s voice. It had been like a dare. And Kimberly had accepted it as such.
My sweet Kimmie, don’t worry, baby, we won’t let mean ole daddy ruin our fun will we, baby…
That hadn’t been love in her voice, it had been satisfaction.
She shook her head fiercely. Was this why she had never returned? Why each time she had planned to come back to Briar Cliff something inside her had made her change her mind, there had always been something more important to do.
She pushed her hand into her jeans pocket and pulled out the single key she carried there. It would open the doors to Briar Cliff, and the memories she had fought to hold back for longer than she had realized herself.
The wide, oak, double door opened smoothly. There wasn’t a squeak or a hesitation as they swung on their well-oiled hinges.
Kimmie, this is all yours. Yours and your daughter’s and your daughter’s daughter’s. Don’t let him ever take it, Kimmie. Not ever…
She had been six, standing in the foyer after yet another of her father’s furious exits. Her mother had been in tears, her shoulders heaving with her sobs, her green eyes shadowed with misery.
She stood in the same marble foyer, staring around her, seeing the past rather than the gleaming oak and teak wood trim, or the centuries old antique hall tables and cushioned chairs, or the priceless crystal decorations.
Over two centuries of dedication to the stately home had made Briar Cliff a resource unto itself. It was quite simply, as a whole, priceless. The trust set up six generations before had ensured that there would be no sales, no chance of mortgages, or of loss. It had grown only more valuable over the generations.
But the antiques and delicate wood carved borders were only glanced over. Kimberly had never seen Briar Cliff as a heritage, it had been her home. But now she saw it, felt it as something more. It wasn’t a home. It wasn’t a heritage. It had been a curse.
She moved slowly through the house, room by room, the voices of a past she hadn’t wanted to remember washing over her.
God damn you, you stupid whore. All I asked you to do was play hostess, not the slut…
You fucking bitch, he’s gone… Do you hear me? He left. Took the money your father gave him and ran. Are you so fucking lame you can’t even remember he didn’t want you…
Kimberly wanted to cover her ears, but there was no blocking the memories.
Her mother’s tears, her screams for mercy, and her father’s voice, rough-edged and filled with fury as he stood over her mother’s cowering body.
Whose do you want her to be?
Kimberly shuddered. How could she have forgotten that? She had been seven, hiding outside the drawing room, trembling in fear, terrified her father would actually hurt her mother.
She remembered her mother’s voice, slurred drunkenly, smug and amused.
Her mother hadn’t been crying. Kimberly stood outside the drawing room now, staring into the shadowed room, and seeing the ghosts of what had been.
Damn you, you lying bitch, I wouldn’t believe you either way,he had screamed. She’s your daughter. Yours. And likely just as depraved and perverted as you ever were…
What had her mother done?
She moved slowly through the house, room by room. The drawing room, the family room, the dining room. In each area she relived the fights, the screaming matches, her mother’s tears, her mother’s smug vindictive words laced with her bitter sobs.
