Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey (14 page)

Suddenly, Peter sat up and cursed under his
breath.

“I can’t do this.”

“What?”

“I can’t date you,” he said, standing
up.

“Why not? What’s wrong with me?” Lara said,
tears quickly forming in her eyes as she replaced her clothing.

“Nothing. Not a damn thing. You’re perfect.
It’s me. I want to make love to you; I can’t date you platonically.
I thought I could, but I can’t. I want you too much. I can’t
control myself.”

“I like…you…touching me,” she admitted,
color suffusing her cheeks.

“A deal’s a deal. Home.”

Lara helped him pack up. She turned her face
away from him, blinking rapidly so he wouldn’t see her tears and
walked quietly to the car. When they got home, Peter took Lara to
her door. He kissed her goodbye passionately and retreated to his
house. He sat down at the piano and played for two hours.

When Sam returned with Pat, Peter was
packing up his music.

“I thought you were on a picnic,” Sam
asked.

“Patience is a virtue I don’t have, Dad.”
Peter said, walking into the bedroom and shutting the door.

* * * *

Back in New York City, a young photographer
unbandaged his hand. The cracked finger had finally healed, along
with the bruises on the knuckles he got from beating up his
girlfriend. He read about her amnesia, grateful for the time it
gave him to find her and finish her off before she went to the
police. He scoured the newspapers and the Internet, looking for her
but she had vanished. He had to find her, take her out before she
remembered and brought his ideal life to a halt. He wasn’t ready to
go to prison.

* * * *

After Peter called a halt to dating, Lara
begged him to let her keep dancing while he played. He relented,
unsure of how far his restraint would hold. She planned to dance in
the talent show at Kensington State, a simple number she
choreographed herself and she needed practice.

“Can you play Tchaikovky’s First Piano
Concerto for me?” Lara asked, stretching to limber up her legs.

After an hour and a half of dance, Lara was
hot and sweaty.

“I’m going to take a bath,” she said,
grabbing her spare leotard and feeling her way to the bathroom.

Peter remained at the piano practicing the
music. When he heard the bath water stop running, he went to the
kitchen to get a glass of water.

Lara dried off, wrapped the towel around her
and stopped. Something grabbed her attention, it was the silence.
No piano. Where was Peter? She stuck her head out of the bathroom
door and called his name. No answer. She became panicky.

“Peter. Peter? Peter!” she called, anxiety
growing with each repetition of his name.

Still there was no answer. Lara listened.
The only sound breaking the silence was the pounding of her heart.
Fear of being alone escalated. Her breath came quickly, she choked
on her saliva. Scared to remain where she was, she moved too
quickly, forgetting about the bathroom door sill, tripped and
fell.

She crawled slowly on all fours, inching her
hand along the wall of the hallway but she lost her bearings and
became confused. Frozen with fear, Lara lay down on the floor in
the corner and started crying softly. Crying escalated to screaming
when she made out a dark shadowy figure coming down the hall toward
her.

“Stop! Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me! It’s
gone. The baby is gone. Please don’t hurt me anymore!” Lara
shielded her face with her arms and curled into a ball.

“It’s me. It’s me. It’s Peter,” he said
taking her into his arms.

“Peter?”

“It’s me. You’re okay.”

“I couldn’t hear you play. I couldn’t hear
you. I didn’t know where you were. You were gone and I didn’t know
where. Then I saw a shadow of a man coming toward me and I
thought…I thought—” she stopped the rush of words pouring out of
her mouth. Seized by panic, she tried to catch her breath.

“You’re safe. I’m here.”

“I was alone and couldn’t find the door and
then I tripped and I didn’t know which wall…I…all turned
around…and…and I couldn’t find you,” she rambled on.

She was still shaking when he picked her up
and carried her to the bedroom. He put her down gently on the bed.
She was sobbing.

“Don’t leave me!”

“I’m here. I’ll talk to you as I go,” he
said quietly, “I’m walking to the closet. There it is, the
bathrobe. Now I’m walking back. I’m almost at the bed.”

The sobbing passed and Lara lay curled up,
completely still on the bed. Peter returned with his bathrobe and
covered her. She grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed.

“Please, stay…” she said, her hand shaking
slightly.

Peter got on the bed with her and took her
into his arms, stroking her hair. She calmed down and cuddled into
his shoulder.

“When you were in the tub, I went to the
kitchen to get a drink. I couldn’t hear you because I had to run
the water in the sink a while to get it cold.”

“I’m sorry I got so hysterical…I thought you
were him…coming down the hall.”

“You saw me?” She felt him brush some stray
hair out of her face.

“A shadow.” The warmth of his body sunk into
hers calming her.

“An improvement?”

“I guess.”

“What did you say about a baby?” His hand
stopped stroking.

Lara turned away from him.

“Aren’t we good friends? Can’t you tell a
good friend anything?”

She squirmed under the bathrobe.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said
resuming his caress of her hair.

“You’ll be my friend anyway, right?” She
turned back to face him.

“You know I will.”

“You won’t judge me?”

“Never.” Again he stilled his hand while he
listened. She turned back to face him and settled her head on his
shoulder as he put his arms around her and pulled her in close. She
felt safe.

“I must have been pregnant when I was
attacked because I had a miscarriage afterward. The police think
the man who attacked me did it to make me miscarry. So he must have
been someone I cared a lot about. I don’t remember being pregnant.
But then I don’t remember much, including him. Maybe when I get my
memory back, I’ll know who did this to me,” she said, tears filling
her empty eyes.

“That’s disgusting.” He tightened his grip,
pulled her closer and kissed her hair. “Give me a few minutes alone
with the bastard, I’ll teach him a lesson he’ll never forget,”
Peter said, his hand fisted.

Lara relaxed in his arms, relieved to have
the secret out. She closed her eyes.

* * * *

“I’d like to get my hands on him for just
one minute…” Peter said with venom in his voice, but Lara was
falling asleep. Her breathing became steady and Peter drifted off
as well.

Fifteen minutes later Sam came home. Peter
cracked an eye open when he heard his bedroom door creak. He spied
Sam smile then close the door before he fell back to sleep.

About an hour later, Lara rolled over away
from Peter, who opened his eyes and reached for her, pulling her
back next to him. She cuddled up to him again, putting her head on
his shoulder and snaking her arm around his waist. Peter bent down
and put his mouth on hers in a slow, sweet kiss.

When she responded to the touch of his lips,
he leaned over and gave her a more urgent, more sensual kiss, his
tongue possessing her mouth. He slipped his hand under the bathrobe
and touched her breast.

“I want to make love to you…” he
whispered.

“I want you,” she breathed in his ear,
holding his hand to her breast, surrendering to her longing for
him. He ripped his T-shirt off over his head. Lara ran her hands
through his soft chest hair. She spread her fingers out over his
chest, studying his muscles with her fingertips. She smiled.

* * * *

Lara felt Peter slowly open the robe,
exposing her body to his eyes. She felt his stare as if a gentle
wave of heat rolled across her body.

“Are you staring at me?”

“You are even more beautiful than I
imagined.”

Lara felt warmth in her cheeks and raised
her lips to be captured by his again. He kissed her passionately as
she lifted her tongue to meet his. He slid his hand down to her
breast, while he buried his lips against her neck. She drank in his
masculine scent and the hint of lime from the soap on his skin. She
moaned and moved her hands down to his hips.

“Hey, you’re dressed and I’m naked.
Unfair.”

Peter stripped off his pants and came back
to Lara.

“Take it all off,” she teased.

Peter dropped his boxers. Lara moved her
hands over his hips and his back, seeing his body with her
fingertips, feeling the strength of his muscles and the smoothness
of his skin. Peter slid his hands over her breasts and around to
her back, down to her firm bottom, pulling her closer to him, until
she felt his arousal. Every touch of his fingers on her skin was
like a small electric charge, jolting her body, making her ache for
him. Love and passion mixed in her veins to create a potent
aphrodisiac.

He followed his hands with his mouth,
traveling slowly down her neck to her breasts, where he created an
agony of pleasure inside her with his lips and tongue. She moaned
and writhed under his expert touch. Her breathing quickened.

“Your breasts are perfect,” he murmured as
he caressed her.

“I want you,” she whispered, squirming under
his caress.

“I want you too…you’ve no idea…”

He kissed her again, ravaging her mouth
while his hand got lost in the soft tangle of her shiny hair. She
arched her back, pressing her breasts onto his chest. His hand
skimmed over the velvety soft skin of her belly and down further to
her slick core, gently exploring, lighting a fire within her. She
gasped, her body aching with desire as he stroked her, his fingers
escalating the intensity of her need. Heat sped through her veins,
as she slid her hand up his thigh to close around his manhood.
Peter groaned.

“I can’t…too much…” he muttered, removing
her hand, resting it on his stomach.

Lara grinned, pleased she excited him.

He kissed her deeply as if demanding her
surrender. She pressed her hips up against him in a silent
plea.

“Just a sec.” Peter scooted off the bed.

Lara felt him return to bed and heard a
slight ripping sound. When she touched him again, her hand wrapped
around latex. Peter eased between her legs and entered her slowly,
gently. Lara wasn’t afraid, she trusted him. He groaned and
increased his pace.

Her hips moved with him, her fingers dug
into his strong shoulders as low moans escaped her throat. He
pumped harder and faster, sweat beaded on his chest, forming a thin
film between them. She cried out his name when passion dominated
her senses and he took her over the top, melting her into ecstasy.
He followed her, with a powerful release.

Afterward, they lay back, breathing heavily.
Peter pulled Lara into his arms while she floated in the bliss of
longing satisfied. His long fingers combed her dark hair, feeling
the softness of it as it fell across her shoulders and breasts. He
pulled the robe over her and kissed the top of her head. She
reached up and stroked his rough face as they lay quietly in each
other’s arms.

He took Lara to a new intensity of pleasure
with a tenderness she hadn’t known from other men in her life. A
sense of being loved washed over her, a new feeling, as she lay
with her head on his shoulder and her arm around his waist. Tears
of joy came to her eyes. One spilled over onto his chest causing
Peter to pull her chin up gently to see her face.

“You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

“Tears of happiness,” she confessed,
embarrassed.

Peter propped himself up against the
headboard, his fingers touched her hair, then her neck and came to
rest on her shoulders as he looked into her blank eyes.

“I love you,” slipped out of his mouth.
Words he hadn’t uttered to any woman in eight years glided off his
tongue to Lara.

She put her arms around his neck.

“Oh, my darling, I love you too,” she
whispered, kissing him sweetly.

* * * *

Thirst drove the lovers from the coziness of
their bed. Holding hands, they padded into the kitchen seeking cold
drinks, Lara wore Peter’s robe and he, only boxers. Sam joined them
and Peter poured a cold drink for him too.

“Lara saw a shadow today,” Peter said,
handing a glass of iced tea to Lara.

“You did?” Sam asked.

“Dr. Weiss said seeing shapes would be the
first step back to full sight.” Lara took the glass from Peter and
gripped it with both hands.

“Did she say how long it would take to get
full sight back?” Peter ran his hand over her hair.

“Nobody knows. But it shows I am healing
inside.” She leaned against Peter’s shoulder.

“What do you want to see first when you get
your sight back?” Sam asked, putting onions, chopped meat and
tomato sauce on the counter for a spaghetti dinner.

“Peter’s face,” she said, “I take that back.
Peter’s eyes.”

Lara helped by setting the table and tearing
lettuce for a salad. Peter fixed the rest of the salad and Sam made
the spaghetti. After dinner Lara mentioned
Pride and
Prejudice
which she had been listening to on tape.

“I’m in love with Mr. Darcy,” Lara cooed,
clasping her hands together.

“What’s so great about him? A stuffed shirt,
if you ask me,” Peter sniffed.

“What do you mean, Pete? He’s one of the
great male characters in literature,” Sam said, twirling some pasta
on his fork.

“I think he’s sexy.”

“You do? You think Mr. Darcy’s sexy? I’ll
show you sexy.” Forgetting his father was there, he grabbed Lara
around the middle, tickling her. She screamed and struggled,
breathless with laughter. Peter plopped her in his lap and gave her
a hard kiss on the mouth.