A Texas Chance (22 page)

Then he kissed her, breasts, belly…his tongue to her core.

She gasped. “Cade, please…”

“Not yet,” he said, though he couldn’t hold out much longer. He was crazed for her, half mad with need to be inside her, to make them one. He stripped away the last of his clothes, holding on with the barest of control. His pulse hammering, he held on long enough to send her shooting high again. Watched with swiftly unraveling control as the tremors rocked her, as her arms flew wide in surrender.

Then Cade gave them both what they wanted in one powerful thrust.

She came again, grabbing for him, dragging his face to hers. Still he let the exquisite longing spool out until his craving shredded his control.

They let the explosion shatter them, locked in a kiss that said all they did not dare.

And as they fell to earth, Cade knew with a deep and aching grief that he would never find this miracle again.

No matter how much of the world he traveled.

S
OMEHOW
HE
MANAGED
TO
lift them both off the massage table and got them to the chaise she had been reupholstering back when he still aggravated her.

So few weeks ago, and yet a universe away. Sophie smiled into his throat. If she didn’t, she would break down.

“Sophie…” His arms gripped her so hard she could barely breathe.

Tell me
.
Say you love me, Cade
.
I feel it
.
Say you’ll stay
.

He reversed their positions but kept her close, wrapping her tightly against him. “I don’t know what to do,” he said.

She forced her suddenly clenched fingers to relax and stroked the side of his face. “You have to be true to yourself, to who you are. You’re special, Cade, so special. You give the world a gift with your talent.”

“But leaving… I’ve never had trouble doing that before.”

She smiled, determined not to falter. “I’m glad you do. It means you won’t forget me. You’re welcome back, anytime. You take time off, right?”

“I didn’t. But I will.”

She could see that it made him feel better to talk about the future as though this wasn’t the end. That he had regrets about leaving meant a lot to her, but she was not going to rob him of the gift he’d so newly regained and he thought he needed so much. To love him the way he deserved meant letting him go, not holding him back.

She could already feel the agony of it, but she would handle it. Once he was gone, she’d remember how to be alone again. Get her feet back underneath her. “I’ll be happy to see you.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t like thinking of you alone. You won’t shut everyone out again, will you, Queenie?”

She’d grown to love that name. “You know I’ll be fine.”

“Will you suffer a little, at least?”

From somewhere she found a smile. “I could probably manage that.”

“Sophie.” His eyes turned serious again. “Promise you’ll let me know if you need anything.
Anything
. Or if you have any trouble.”

God. Could he make this any harder? If he’d just walk away whistling, then she could hate him and get over him quickly.

But he was a good man, and that wasn’t how he operated. So even though she wouldn’t, she nodded. “I will.” Then she asked her own favor. “And will you let me know that you’re okay, now and again? Tell me how the mountain looks from the forbidden side?”

He wanted to believe that was enough for her, she could see it. Wanted not to hurt her. “I’ll email you the first photos. You’ll see it before anyone else.”

“I’d like that.” It would tear out her heart. She couldn’t stand this. She scraped up a smile she didn’t feel. “So…” She walked her fingers up his chest and circled his earlobe, loving the feel of his body’s response. “Are we done talking yet?”

For a moment he looked at her with such sadness she nearly broke down and said
let’s not do this
,
don’t pretend I don’t love you and you don’t love me....

But then he kissed her, and she gratefully seized the respite. Nothing had changed. He was a wanderer, and she’d planted roots here and made a place to stay. And she was a survivor.

“Let’s not waste this night,” she murmured.

He answered with his body instead of words that would change nothing.

And if Sophie clung to him now and again when she couldn’t help herself…he clung to her, too.

Until she slept, then awoke.

To discover that he’d already left her.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

T
WO
WEEKS
AND
FOUR
ENDLESS
days later, Cade stood on a spot where few Westerners had ever been permitted, taking in a sight many would give anything to witness. The journey to Heaven Lake had been interminable—two weeks wasted tied up in bureaucratic wrangling.

He could have attended Sophie’s opening, after all.

But at last he’d made it. Baekdu, the sacred White Mountain, the jewel of North Korea. He’d waited years to explore this beautiful and sacred place.

He should have been ecstatic, but instead he was untouched. Frozen. He framed shot after shot, waiting, hoping for that spark…to no avail.

His gift wasn’t gone, no. On the ascent, he’d taken some photos he could be proud of. He’d captured more still of the faces of people whose paths he’d crossed—though the shots had angered some and there had been threats of confiscating his cameras, so he’d had to stop taking those.

He’d like to blame his physical condition for the malaise that gripped him as he stood on the summit, but he wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself. The fault lay not in his body but his heart. He thought of Sophie every day, whether he wanted to or not. He’d deliberately not called her to find out how the opening went, figuring a clean break was best. All that brave noise they’d made of future visits, of staying in touch?

Screw that. A casual relationship with Sophie? He was light-years from managing that, and it was infuriating. Every mile away from her had stamped a nasty tattoo on his heart, souring his disposition, yanking at his patience, tainting the seminal joy of his life—being free, solitary, unencumbered.

Blast her.

“There is a problem?” his guide asked.

“No.” Barely he avoided the impulse to bark and instead summoned basic manners. “Thank you for asking.”

“You are ready to depart?”

Cade stared out at the incredible vista.
Buckle down
.
Get the shot you’ve waited years to snap
.
You’re a professional.
“No.” He strode away from his guide, blanking his mind to anything but what he could see through the viewfinder.

A sick feeling roiled in his gut. If he couldn’t capture
this,
nothing mattered. If he had lost the fire, he was done, he would never make it all the way back from the accident and—

There
. Oh, God, there it was, the rush, the knowing. He began to snap off frame after frame, adjusting, crouching, scanning… The buzz up his spine was visceral, a greeting, a welcome home from a long-lost friend. “Thank you,” Cade murmured while he continued to shoot as the light shifted, and he snapped and snapped.

And then it was done. He knew in his gut he’d gotten something extraordinary, and it was all he could do not to shout, to punch a fist in the air. Jubilation soared through him, and he reached for his phone so he could—

Share it with Sophie.

Cade rocked back on his heels at the realization that where once the simple knowledge of a spectacular shot had been enough for him, now he needed to share it.

And not with just anyone. With Sophie. The woman he’d walked away from.

You have to be true to yourself, to who you are
.
You’re special, Cade
.

Gracious to the end, Sophie was. As he packed his equipment and made his way back down, his mind was a torrent of images, of questions, difficult ones.

Hours later he was still sorting through the tangle. He’d proved he was still Cade MacAllister, adventure photographer, capable of capturing remarkable images. But where that had once made up the sum total of him, now there was a cavern inside him, a dark, looming maw that adventure could not fill. His gift was no longer everything. No longer enough.

Because now there was Sophie. The woman courageous enough, generous enough, to say goodbye because that was what he’d needed. While he’d hurt her. Hurt himself.

Memories of their last night together washed over him. They’d loved, they’d soared… He’d tried to express with his hands what he couldn’t find a way to say:
I love you, Sophie
.

Her body had been a feast, and he’d treasured it. But her eyes…they’d known. They’d grieved, though her lips hadn’t said the words.

Don’t leave me
. No, she hadn’t said it, and never would. She’d sent him off with a smile, and he’d accepted it as genuine because he’d wanted it to be. Because he didn’t know how not to be solitary. He didn’t know how to share his heart.

Had been scared, crazy scared, that he’d lost the only Cade he knew how to be.

You don’t know what you can become
.
You’ll figure out what’s most important to you, and heaven knows you’re single-minded enough to make whatever it is happen,
his mom had said.

He’d proved that he was back, as good as ever.

But it was no longer enough. It was no longer everything. And she’d seen that—seen him—all along.

Had Sophie written him off already? Had she moved on, thanked her lucky stars she hadn’t yielded that composed core of her that never let anyone all the way in?

You let me come damn close, Sophie
.
I know you did
.

He’d go back, take a battering ram if he had to, break down that wall she’d built out of broken dreams and loss. She needed him as much as he needed her.

Or did she? He went ice-cold with fear. How did he know what she needed? Whether he could make her happy?

He fastened the last zipper on his duffel and rushed to leave for his flight out. She might not want to gamble on him. He had absolutely no experience with sticking around, with being anyone’s rock.

But he had teachers all around him, didn’t he? His brothers, his parents—all had formed bonds, had nurtured others. Maybe he’d stumble a lot, maybe he’d screw it all up.

But he
was
single-minded, as his mother had said—and he would kill himself trying to be the man Sophie deserved.

If it wasn’t too late. If Queenie hadn’t already slapped crossbars on the portal to her heart.

S
OPHIE
HAD
CLOSETED
herself in her small office for a few moments of peace. Studying future bookings might not be anyone else’s idea of a good time, but for a hotelier, seeing the weeks extending outward at full capacity…the thrill was nearly as great as sex.

No. She couldn’t kid herself about that. Cade had ever so vividly demonstrated differently.

Her jubilant mood faltered at the reminder of him, but ruthlessly, she quashed the memories. Thinking about Cade was a losing proposition. He hadn’t even emailed her a photo as he’d promised. He’d been gone three weeks to the day—how she hated that she knew it exactly—and not a word.

It hurt, and it shouldn’t. She’d prepared herself from the beginning, knowing happiness was only ever fleeting. She’d never truly believed he’d return. He was back in his element, doing exactly what he loved.

And so was she. They’d had fun together, and that was enough. The end. Her story still had to be written, and his would be in a different volume, miles and continents away.

Which only made her wonder again if everything was working out for him. Was the sacred mountain the thrill he’d hoped? Was he shooting bushels of photos? Was he healing all right?

Did he ever think of her?

She jammed the heels of her hands into her eyes.
Stop that
.
He’s none of your business
.
It’s over and done with
.
Life goes on
.

It always had.

One of these days she’d feel strong enough to call Jenna, to resume their friendship. Right now, however, anything related to the MacAllisters hurt too much.

Her eyes fell on the names in the list of future reservations. His parents were coming in a couple of weeks. She wished with everything in her that she hadn’t agreed to host them for their anniversary…and that was wrong. They were wonderful people who’d been there for her when she’d been at her lowest. They still called to check on her periodically, and it wouldn’t be right to hold it against them that they’d raised a son who’d made her fall in love with him when there was no future with him.

All the MacAllisters seemed to find reasons to touch base now and again. Talking to everyone but the MacAllister she really wanted was killing her, but that would end now. She would call Jenna and have her over for drinks. She didn’t feel comfortable leaving the hotel yet—her staff was too new. She was proud of them, though. Hotel Serenity was getting glowing reviews for hospitality, comfort, food… She couldn’t have written them better herself.

And Kurt had been arrested after Sophie’s meeting with one of Jesse’s FBI friends. Maura’s nephew had been given immunity to testify against him, so Maura didn’t have to worry about him going to jail. Maura had also taken it upon herself to ensure the proof of Sophie’s innocence circulated through the industry, and she had her reputation back, particularly after the opening. After the roaring success of the opening bash, she’d been besieged by requests for interviews, and the coverage still continued.

Cade had given her a miracle. That was enough. He hadn’t lied to her—he was who he was. She understood better than anyone about protecting yourself. He believed he had to be free to roam at a moment’s notice, to travel, to take risks. Their careers were incompatible.

Her gaze fell on a present he’d left behind as a parting gift…a shot of her and Finn on the day his family had come to her aid. She’d been tempted to stick it in a closet because looking at it hurt too much, but in the end, she hung it in her office, a piece of Cade she could hold on to. So that she could remember what those heady days had been like.

Queenie
. Daredevil blue eyes glinting as he argued, as he teased.

One of these days she would remember without pain.

A knock sounded on her door.

“Yes?”

Trish the desk clerk answered. “Sophie, there’s a package for you.”

“All right. Bring it in.”

A brown-papered rectangle…like certain memorable others. Her heart skipped, but she remained outwardly impassive. “Thank you, Trish.” She smiled and waited for the door to close behind the young woman before she looked at the package.

Sophie’s fingers trembled as she gripped the edges.
I can’t open it
. She didn’t actually know it was from Cade, did she? She began carefully with scissors but started tearing at the paper almost instantly, then more greedily as she saw what was inside.

“Oh!” Her heart skipped again. “Oh, Cade…” There it was, his sacred mountain, the lake within the circle of the peaks a glistening gem. It took her a minute to realize there was something out of place. At the corner, so faint others might miss it, was a name traced in the earth in the foreground.

Jaime
.

She covered her mouth as her eyes burned. He’d found a way to take his friend there. To make Jaime a part of the place they’d both wanted to go.

“They wouldn’t let me leave a photo of him,” said a voice from the door she hadn’t heard open.

Sophie’s gaze whipped toward him. “Cade.”

His eyes were so serious as he remained standing in the doorway.

“He would have loved it,” she said. She nodded at the photo. “It’s stunning. You did it, didn’t you? Your gift really is back.”

His answering smile was faint. “It seems so.”

“Thank you, I—I didn’t expect…” she stammered.

He uncoiled from the door frame and shoved the door closed as he prowled toward her. “You never expect much of me, do you, Sophie?” He frowned. “Not that I ever gave you any reason to.”

She couldn’t figure out his mood. “Not true. You did so much for me, Cade. Much more than I had any right to expect, certainly more than you should have. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you…”

He grasped her upper arms. Removed the framed photo and set it aside. “You always have a ledger to balance, don’t you? You think that if you keep everything even, then you’ll be safe. That if it’s all tidy and neat, nothing can hurt you.”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t know what you mean.”

His smile was mirthless. “There she is. Hey, Queenie.” His brows snapped together. “We’re a pair, aren’t we? Neither of us willing to let go an inch for fear we might have to let someone in. I hide behind my career, and you hide behind business.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. We keep our distance because it’s less frightening. Because then we never have to open ourselves up to the messiness of real life. To the hurt. You’re afraid of what you could lose, of starting over again—and I’ve refused to start at all.”

“I’m over what I’ve lost.” She stiffened. Took a step back. “I simply realize that balance is important.”

“And I’ve never wanted balance. I haven’t let anything or anyone get between me and the life I wanted—but you know what, Queenie?” His voice went soft. “I stood there on that mountain, taking really great shots of a place I’ve waited most of my career to see…and it meant nothing.” He shook her gently. “Nothing. Because you weren’t there.”