Lead Me On (27 page)

Scott sat at the desk, staring at his computer screen. He didn't know why he bothered trying to write when he couldn't think of anything but Allison. He glanced out the window and saw the sun was starting to set. Was she still with her sister?

His mind drifted back to that morning and what Adrian had said, that Allison felt things more deeply than most people, and when she gave her heart she gave it completely. The thought actually gave him hope. If he could make her care for him before she learned the truth, maybe they'd have a chance at building something that would last.

The trick would be winning her heart in the first place. Why would someone so wonderful want to take a chance on him when he knew nothing about healthy relationships?

God, he sounded pathetic, and more insecure than he'd have ever imagined. Which made him doubt his ability to win her even more. His moodiness was only a minor strike against him compared to this new and frightening self-doubt. Women might say they liked "sensitive, vulnerable men," but from personal observation, he'd found quite the opposite to be true. Women flocked to men who treated them with indifference, while men who worried too much about pleasing women were considered wimps.

The problem was, he did want to please Allison. He wanted her to care for him. And for the first time in his life, he wanted to be worthy of someone's caring.

A soft knock on the door jarred him out of his thoughts. "Yes, come in," he called, already standing.

Allison stepped inside, her face aglow with happiness. "Am I interrupting your writing?"

"Not at all. I was hoping you'd come up. Well? How'd your visit with Rory go?"

"Wonderful." Her smile grew brighter, but as he drew near, he saw her eyes were swollen.

"You've been crying."

"Buckets!" She gave a shaky laugh and waved a hand in front of her face. Her other hand remained behind her back, hiding something. "Hard to believe I had any tears left after blubbering all over you last night, but it felt good to finally tell her. So, I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me? For what?"

"For listening, for being here, for being you. You've helped me in so many ways since you got here, sometimes I don't even feel like the same person I was three weeks ago. So, I brought you something." She moved her hand from behind her back and held out a canvas bag.

"What's this?" He took the bag from her.

"The bookstore delivered the books you asked them to find. Plus, I added something you might like."

Reaching into the bag, he lifted out one of several leather-bound books. Opening it he found the yellowed pages filled with handwriting.

"Marguerite's diaries," Allison said. "Or rather, the English translations my great-grandmother did. I've decided to let you read them, as long as you promise they won't leave the inn."

"Absolutely." Something warm moved through him as he looked up at Alli. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. After yesterday and this morning, I feel as if you're almost part of the family now. Adrian even asked if you might want to use the weight room downstairs."

"You're kidding." The gesture of acceptance startled

him.

She stepped closer and laid a hand on his cheek. "You've become a very special friend to me, and it feels so good to finally trust someone again. To let myself care for someone."

He closed his eyes as dread washed through him.

"Don't worry," she said quickly. "I'm not expecting anything in return. I won't pressure you—"

"Alli, stop." Regret tightened his chest as he kissed the palm of her hand. Words backed up in his throat, and he had to swallow hard. He couldn't possibly tell her yet. She had to care for him first. Yet the longer he held his silence, the bigger the deceit. "Can we sit down?"

"Certainly."

He set the bag of books on the desk, then took a seat on the sofa. She sat beside him in the soft evening light and lengthening shadows. The innocence and trust in her eyes made his stomach churn.

"Allison, I know we said our relationship would be temporary, but what would you think about continuing to, you know ... see each other?"

The openness vanished from her face like a wall slamming down between them. "You mean, you go back to New Orleans, and we arrange a few days together here and there? Like what you had with Kelly?"

No, he didn't want that at all. He wanted her in his life completely. But that seemed too much to ask so soon.
Take it slow
, he warned himself as he let out a breath. "Something like that."

She rose abruptly, as if ready to flee, but stopped a few steps away, her back to him. "No. I'm sorry, but ... no."

The rejection hit him like a fist to the heart. Because she was rejecting him. This had nothing to do with her hatred of his family. She simply didn't want him. He sat back, trying to catch his breath. "I see. I just thought, we've been enjoying each other's company. At least I've been enjoying yours, so I thought—"
I thought I had a chance, for once in my life, to have something good, something golden and rare.
He stood as well, went to the desk and blindly straightened some papers. "Never mind."

"I can't keep seeing you, because ..." Her voice broke. "I'm not sure I can keep following the rules. You'd want something friendly, convenient, but I don't think I could keep seeing you without getting ... emotional. And that wouldn't be convenient at all. Would it?"

To his utter shock, his vision blurred. He turned carefully and found her facing him, fear and hope warring in her eyes. "Actually, it would be. Convenient. See, there's something I think I should tell you." His legs started to shake, so he leaned back against the desk to brace himself. "You see, I'm ... I'm in love with you."

Color drained from her face and she swayed.

"Allison!" He lunged forward, pulling her against his chest, and he felt her body trembling.

"This wasn't supposed to happen." She looked up at him. "You promised we could control it. That no one would get hurt"

"I lied. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, it just happened ..." Smoothing her hair, he willed her to understand. "I've always been able to control my emotions, hold back. Until I met you."

She stared mutely back at him.

"I know you didn't ask for this, that it frightens you. It frightens me, too. But I want to be with you, Alli, more than I've ever wanted anything. Can't we at least give this a chance?"

Tears rose in her eyes. "What if it doesn't work?"

He cupped her face. "Surely we can find a way to make this work, and make it last if you think you can ever love me a little in return."

Her eyes closed as a sob jerked through her body. "I'm not sure I can. I know I promised Rory I'd quit worrying about the future and live in the present, but I'm not sure I can handle something this huge."

"You don't have to be afraid. We can take it slow. You don't have to give me anything you're not ready for. Just don't push me away." He kissed her cheeks, the corner of her mouth, desperation tearing him apart "Please don't push me away."

Her arms went around his neck, and she buried her face against his neck. "I couldn't push you away if I wanted. Oh Scott, I'm afraid to love you, but I'm more afraid to lose you. I don't know what to do."

"You do what you just said, stop thinking about the future and live in the here and now. Is that so terribly hard?"

"Yes." She lifted her head to look at him. "After all these years of holding back, it's very hard to let go. To trust fate not to kick me down again. But I'll try. I'm tired of being a coward, so I'll try."

Closing his eyes against a rush of relief and joy, he lowered his mouth to hers and felt as if he were leaping off a cliff. "No more holding back, for either of us," he said between kisses. "Whatever the future brings, we grab this now."

"Yes." She kissed him back as her tears became joyful. "No more holding back." Her heart took flight as he tightened his embrace, lifting her off her feet.

"I love you, Allison." He turned in slow circles of celebration as he kissed her neck, her cheek. They tumbled onto the bed, kissing and touching. He gazed down at her, and she could see the love in his eyes. Awed, she touched his face, let her fingertips trace the line of his nose, his beard, his lips. Had she really thought him cynical and arrogant? With his heart opened to her, he seemed so vulnerable. Love swelled within her, but the words wouldn't come, so she drew his head down to kiss his lips and show him what she felt

No more holding back.
The words made her quiver deep inside as he undressed her. When at last they lay together, skin to skin, with no barriers between them, he looked deep into her eyes. "I love you," he whispered as he moved over her.

She blinked back tears, because the words remained locked in her heart. She could feel them yearning to get out, but she couldn't say them, so she smiled at him in welcome as he settled between her thighs.

"Don't be afraid." He framed her face with his hands as he pressed inside, filling her with his body, and his love. "We'll go as slow as you want. And I'll never intentionally hurt you."

"I know." She smiled as he began to move, slowly, purposefully. Each thrust made her body and her heart ache for release. Clinging to him, she closed her eyes and lost herself to the pleasure of a joining that was somehow different from all the others. She felt connected to his soul, could feel his openness and his vulnerability. The last surprised her, because she'd never suspected he had doubts or fears. Yet it thrilled her too, that he let her see it, feel it.

He took her mouth again in a long kiss as he thrust deep, losing himself and taking her with him. When the pleasure came, she felt her heart crack open. The liberation staggered her, left her as breathless as her physical climax. She stared into space as he held her tight, and kept staring even when he shifted to lie beside her.

As passionate as he'd been in the past, he was equally gentle now. He held her in his arms, kissing her forehead and caressing her with his hands on her back and arms. Never in her life had she felt so cherished. Torn between laughter and tears, she burrowed her face against his chest and squeezed her eyes shut.

How gloriously different making love was from having sex. Now that she knew, she never wanted to go back. Sex was thrilling, but making love was ... the moon and the stars and the brightness of the sun all rolled into one.

Whatever the future held, she had this moment. She had Scott here and now. And her heart lay open and filled with joy.

~ ~ ~

The following morning, Scott woke alone, which didn't surprise him. Allison could hardly sleep with him openly with the inn full of guests. Still, it hurt a bit that she hadn't woken him before going downstairs when they'd been so close throughout the night.

The evening had been filled with lazy touches and quiet murmurs. They'd stayed up for hours, talking and making love. She'd told him about Lauren, and he'd talked about his book. She'd asked him about his life, his childhood, his family. He'd answered evasively and encouraged her to talk about her own life instead.

If he wasn't already totally and hopelessly in love with her, last night would have done it. Her openness had fully revealed the qualities that had attracted him from the first: sweetness, honesty, intelligence, and humor. And she was a hairsbreadth away from saying the words he longed to hear.

Smiling like a loon, he rose to take a shower. There was a practical side to falling in love, he realized, humming to himself. Not the emotions, which were completely impractical, but the logistics. Since they couldn't be together at the inn, he needed to find another place to stay. He briefly considered the beach house his mother had won in the divorce settlement, but dismissed the idea just as quickly. Even though he fully intended to tell Allison who he was, he doubted she'd be comfortable there—especially since his derelict cousins liked to use the place to throw weekend parties on occasion.