The Secret Wife (16 page)

Tiffany ran up to Elissa and grabbed both her hands. The preteen spoke intently. When she finished her message, she ran off, toward one of the classroom buildings, obviously eager for her next lesson. Elissa shook her head in bewilderment.

Before he could stop himself, he approached her. “What was that all about?” he asked, trying not to notice that her green T-shirt not only exactly matched and brought out the color of her eyes, but also molded to the shape of her breasts. The sight of the full curves made him remember what it had been like to touch her there, gently tracing pale skin and sweetly puckered nipples.

Elissa laughed. “I’m not sure. Tiffany just announced she loves physics and for sure wants to study it in college. She said something about a signal traveling in the opposite direction from the movement.”

“What?”

“That was my reaction. She described it as a signal light. The message that the light has turned green travels in one direction to the drivers, then they move forward, which is the opposite direction.” She held out her hands, palms up. “I was never very good at science. Obviously this camp is doing a great job.”

“For the kids. I’m beginning to feel as if they’re talking in a foreign language.”

“Me, too.” She smiled at him.

Without wanting to, he smiled back.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she said, pointing to a gravel path that led between the cabins. “I went that way earlier this morning and it leads to a stream. There’s even water in it. That surprised me. I mean, it’s summer in Southern California.”

“There’s been some rain,” he said, wondering if the conversation could be more inane.

He fell into step beside her. Even as his brain screamed out that spending time with her was a mistake, his soul took pleasure in her company.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you in jeans before,” he said as they ducked under a couple of low branches and entered a cool, leafy world. There were unfamiliar grasses, boulders with moss and up ahead, the distinct sound of water rushing west to the ocean.

Elissa brushed her hair over her shoulder. “You haven’t,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever owned more than one pair at a time in my life. Mine generally go out of style before they wear out. You know, pleats when they shouldn’t have any, or cuffs or something. So I went to a store that specializes in jeans and bought the most basic pair they had. As much as I prefer dresses, I thought they would be silly up here at the camp.”

“You look great.”

“Oh.” At his compliment, she glanced up at him. Pleasure darkened her eyes to the color of the moss. Her mouth curved up. “Thank you.”

Their steps slowed. It used to be like this, he remembered. Quiet times together, moments of connection so pure, they nearly transcended reality. He wanted to forget the anger and the pain. He wanted to forget her leaving five years ago and the fact that she would leave in the future. He wanted to believe in her again, to believe in them. He also wanted half a million dollars for building repairs and new programs for the orphanage. He had an equal chance of getting both.

Elissa blushed faintly and turned away. As she did so, her foot caught on the edge of a rock in the path and she lost her balance. He caught her before she could fall, his right arm going around her midsection, his left hand encircling her left upper arm.

His forearm pressed against the undersides of her breasts. He could feel the curves, her heat and her rapid heartbeat. His mouth went dry.

Elissa leaned against him for a second, then straightened and moved away. He released her reluctantly. “I can’t believe I did that,” she said. “Thanks for saving me.” She glanced at her hands. “I would have scraped them for sure and I hate it when that happens.”

“No problem. Watch where you’re going.”

“Yes, sir.” She laughed. “You give orders well. It must be all these years with the children. Or maybe you’re a natural leader.”

He led the way down the path, walking a bit in front of her so she wouldn’t be able to see the physical manifestation of his desire. In less than a second he was hard and ready. Blood throbbed, leaving him aroused and uncomfortable.

He hadn’t made love since Elissa. Hadn’t wanted to be with anyone else. He’d assumed that part of him was dead, and he’d barely thought to mourn its passing. Now he realized his desires had just been dormant, waiting for the only woman he’d ever loved. On a good day he let himself believe she’d once loved him back. On a bad day he figured he’d been nothing but a childish crush that had refused to die in time to avoid causing him pain. Regardless, he’d never been able to forget there was a side of their relationship, a side of marriage, she’d always hated.

“It’s easy with the kids,” he said. “I remember what it was like to be one of them.”

“I’m sure that helps.”

She was right behind him, but he didn’t dare turn around. Not yet.

“But it’s more than that,” Elissa continued. “Some people are born with the gift of communication. Look at Millie. She was never in the orphanage and she’s terrific with the children, too.”

“She raised four of her own.”

“She mentioned that. I must say, I really admire what she does here. She could easily spend her days going out to lunch with friends, or shopping, yet she puts in hours at the orphanage and doesn’t expect anything in return.”

“Millie’s a special lady and we’re damned lucky to have her.” Cole had long ago realized the place would fall apart without his assistant. “She’s touched a lot of lives. Last year she and Jeff celebrated their thirtieth wedding anniversary. The party was huge. Everyone who knows them wanted to help them celebrate.”

His condition had subsided, so when the path widened, he slowed to let Elissa walk next to him. They meandered down to the edge of the stream. Water rushed over rocks and the claylike earth below. Leafy branches hung low and green bushes grew right to the edge of the water.

“I knew she’d been married for a long time,” Elissa said, “but I didn’t know it was thirty years. That’s amazing. I remember when I worked on the series there was this woman who played the housekeeper. Her name was Mrs. Beecham. She used to tell us that love was like a tornado. Fast and powerful. That’s what we were to look for in our lives. When Kayla and Patrick were trying to figure out what they felt for each other, Kayla kept worrying that it wasn’t a tornado. There’d been no sudden storm of passion. Just a quiet love that grew out of years of knowing and caring about each other.”

“If half of what Millie says about her and Jeff is true, and I suspect it is, they have both,” Cole said. Sadness replaced his feeling of well-being. He and Elissa had experienced love as a tornado. It had destroyed everything in its path, leaving both of them lost and battered.

“I wish my parents had had either,” Elissa said. “I never knew why they were together. They always fought. The divorce was almost a relief.”

Almost, but not quite. Elissa stared at the stream and folded her arms over her chest. Cole stood next to her.

“Sometimes I imagine my parents would have been like Millie and Jeff,” he admitted. “If they’d lived. It’s just a kid’s fantasy, but I figure there’s no point in letting it go. They’re gone and I might as well picture them happy.”

Elissa glanced at him. “That’s sound logic, Cole. They must have loved each other very much.”

He shrugged. “I’ll never know. I assume they did. My father walked away from a fortune to marry my mother.”

“Sometimes I think people only appreciate things they’ve had to work to get. If it comes too easy, it’s also too easy to let go.”

Was she talking about them? About their marriage? Any sacrifice had come on her part, not his. She’d given up her family, the place where she’d grown up, her education. What had he surrendered in the name of love?

“You’re right,” he said.

“Really?” She spun toward him, obviously surprised. A strand of her hair caught in a tree branch. She tugged at it, trying to free herself.

“Let me,” he said, moving closer. He unwound the curl.

She smiled her thanks.

Around them, several birds sang to each other. Water continued to dance noisily over the rocks. The breeze rustled in the trees. A symphony of sound. They blocked out the real world…and the past. They allowed him to forget.

So instead of releasing the curl, he let it coil around his finger. Smooth, cool silk, just as he remembered.

In the shadows her eyes dilated. Her mouth trembled. She waited, as if the decision were his to make. An illusion of power.

The wanting, as strong as ever, swept through him. But this time was different. Dangerous. Because he couldn’t keep on hating her. The anger didn’t return on demand and when it did, some of the edge was gone.

Without wanting to, he’d started liking her. Was friendship far behind? He’d never been her friend, wasn’t sure he was up to the task. Friendship required a permanence he wasn’t sure he could accept. Feelings that transcended time. Friends forgave things lovers never could.

“And when you leave me this time?” he asked.

“What if I don’t?”

His mouth curved up in a humorless smile as he released the curl and moved away. Friendship was a possibility. Trust was not.

Chapter Ten

“L
eft foot—green!” Alice, one of the camp counselors, called out.

Elissa laughed. “It’s physically impossible,” she said as she tried to slide her left foot across the sheet of plastic on the carpeted floor.

Tiffany beat her to the plate-sized spot of color closest to her. Elissa already had her right foot and right hand pressing against other colored spots. Cole, through circumstances she hadn’t quite understood, was also a player on her mat, along with Greg.

“Try this,” Cole said. “I’ll move back one spot and you can slide under me to the corner one.”

She glanced at him, then at the distance. “I don’t think my legs are that long.”

“Try it,” Tiffany said happily. “Cole can put his arm around your waist and hold you up if you start to fall. He always does that with me.”

Elissa did as her husband and the preteen suggested. Amid squeals and giggles, she found the green spot and balanced precariously.

Outside, rain from the unexpected storm pounded against the windows. According to the weather report, sunshine would greet them in the morning, but for tonight, everyone was playing inside the lodge.

Elissa was thrilled with the change in plans. She had a feeling that the original schedule for a cookout and campfire sing-along would have kept her apart from Cole. Since their walk that afternoon, he’d been avoiding her, going so far as to wait for her to seat herself at dinner, and then choosing a table on the opposite side of the room.

Had she upset him that much? If she had, was it a good thing or a bad thing?

Not that it mattered, she thought happily as Alice called, “Right hand—red!”

Elissa bent over and slid her right hand to a red spot.

“Great,” Cole muttered, and stretched over her. “Can you move a little?” he asked.

“Sure.” She leaned to her left, bringing her hip in contact with his stomach. A shiver rippled through her, nearly upsetting her balance.

Greg dived under Elissa and claimed a red disk for himself. On the mat next to them, Millie gave a shriek of laughter and collapsed to the floor, bringing the other three players with her. Jeff, her husband, pulled her close and kissed her soundly.

“You never were much good at this sort of thing, were you?”

Millie patted his face affectionately. “I’m unbeatable at board games, so I don’t mind.”

“I don’t, either.”

Elissa was so caught up in their display of love that she twisted a little too far. Her bare right foot slipped.

“No, you don’t,” Cole muttered, holding her around the waist. “If you go down, we all go down.”

“Greg, look out,” Elissa called as she started to wobble.

The boy rolled off the mat. As he did so, he bumped into Tiffany, who fell heavily against Cole, who released Elissa. They tumbled into a heap of arms and legs.

Somehow Elissa found herself lying against Cole’s chest, her thighs nestled against his. Unfamiliar heat poured through her, making her want to squirm closer. The need was so powerful, only the crowd around them kept her from doing so. What on earth was wrong with her? She’d never felt anything like that when they were married.

She had read enough to realize that the hot, tingling in her breasts and between her thighs was a sign of sexual arousal. She wanted him—badly. She wanted Cole. She did! She who thought she would never feel anything but frightened by the thought of sex was actually entertaining sexual thoughts.

“You all right?” Cole asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Let me get up first,” he said, moving her off him, then rising to his feet. He held out a hand to assist her.

As their fingers brushed, sparks arced between them. She might not be able to see them, but she could sure feel them. Lightning strikes of fire on her bare skin. Was this what he’d felt all those times he’d touched her?

He pulled her to her feet, but didn’t release her hand right away. “You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked. “Did you hit your head?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Nothing happened.” At least, not in the way he imagined. She pressed her free hand to her chest and felt the rapid beating of her heart. Her knees were weak, her thighs trembled. She’d never experienced anything like this before. She was twenty-five years old and she felt as if she’d just figured out the secret to the world.

People stood around in small groups talking until the last team was left hunched over their slippery mat. The winners were congratulated, then Alice announced it was time for bed. There would be lots more science to be studied in the morning.

Elissa leaned against the sofa and watched Millie and her husband exchange a private smile. They murmured good-night to a few children and made their way to the long hallway that led to their section of the dorm.

Would the older couple make love tonight? There had been something in their exchange of glances that had made her think so. Elissa felt a sharp pang of envy. That’s what she wanted for herself. A solid relationship built on trust and love. Time to establish patterns and rituals, silent communication and memories. She and Cole hadn’t had that. Not the time or the trust. She wasn’t sure they’d even had love. They’d had a flash so bright it had burned away everything in its path. The intensity had frightened her.