Carae's Touch (Long Line of Love, #4) Read online

  "To be what?"

  How long would her interest last once she knew how he'd treated Rissa? He removed his hand from hers. "I still don't want to talk about it."

  "Did you love her?"

  "Did I love her?" He shook his head. "Love isn't a strong enough word to...I more than loved her. I worshipped and adored her. She was everything to me. Everything."

  She sighed. "Where does that leave you, Brandon?"

  "Where I should be; in a bottomless pit filled with despair and loneliness."

  "Oh, sweetie, why would you think that's all you deserve?"

  "What is a man supposed to do when he's lost the only woman he ever loved?"

  She took his hand in hers again and held it against her breasts. "Fall in love again, which is what she surely would have wanted for you if she loved you half as much as you loved her."

  "It might sound strange to you, but I'm not sure I can ever fall in love again."

  She stared at him. "You loved her that much?"

  "I can't describe how much she meant to me. I..." Noticing the dismayed look in her eyes, he knew he ran the risk of scaring her away with what she must consider his obsession with Rissa. "This is really not a conversation I should be having with you. I'm sorry."

  Looking dazed, she released his hand. She then surprised him by lying down on the blanket and reaching out to him.

  The urge to slip between her legs and ravish her warred with one to shield her from the darkness he fought to hide from his family. He shook his head. "Trust me when I tell you cuddling with me isn't a good idea."

  "Trust me when I tell you I'm only offering you comfort, Brandon. That's something you clearly need. Let me hold and comfort you as only a woman can."

  He struggled with his needs and desires briefly before surrendering to the one that longed for the comfort of a woman's touch and arms. Not just any woman's but hers. Swallowing slowly, he lay on the blankets beside her.

  "There's not much comfort in that," she said, reaching for his hand. "Come closer."

  When he felt her fingers tightening around his and tugging on his hand, he abruptly turned into her embrace. Closing his eyes, he lay with his upper body against hers. At first, he held his body tense, afraid that if he didn't his desire for physical intimacy with her would overwhelm his finer instincts.

  Yet within seconds of lying against her, the tension in him began to dissolve. Relaxing his body, he pressed closer. Although he definitely felt desire, it was accompanied by a surge of comfort.

  She tightened her arms around him, kissed his hair, and started to sing Let Me Be There in a soft, husky voice.

  Let me change whatever's wrong and make it right.

  The lyrics, along with her warmth and scent combined to release the remaining tension in him. At the moment, he believed that she was capable of making everything wrong in his life right. For one of the few times since Rissa's murder, he drifted into a contented sleep free of nightmares.

  * * *

  As Brandon slept in her embrace, Carae took several deep breaths. It didn't require any special mystic or spiritual knowledge to know that he'd been straight with her. He really did have some major emotional baggage. Far more than any sane woman would want to deal with. Despite her attraction to him, she had never considered herself insane.

  When she attempted to slip from under him, he pressed closer, pinning her to the blankets. She sighed and closed her eyes, resigned to lying under him until he either awoke or turned in his sleep sufficiently for her to ease away.

  She tried to relax enough to fall asleep, but regret and fear that if she were foolish enough to proceed in her effort to entice him into a relationship, she'd soon find herself drowning in the unmistakable darkness she felt in him kept her awake.

  He must have been tired because he slept for over three hours before he finally stirred in her arms. By then, she felt nearly weighed down with an almost oppressive sense of dread. When she pushed at his shoulders, he sighed and rolled off her onto his side.

  Finally. She inhaled deeply and sat up, pressing back against the tree trunk behind them.

  He turned onto his back and sat up with his shoulder close to but not quite touching hers. "Are you all right?"

  She felt a sense of emptiness and regret that left her bereft of anything meaningful to say. "Yes."

  He turned his head to look at her. "You're very quiet."

  "I don't know what to say," she said staring straight ahead.

  He reached out to take her chin in his hand and turn her face to his. "About what?"

  "About anything."

  He stared at her.

  Feeling as if he were gazing into her soul and seeing her in a way no other man had, she blinked and looked away from him. "It's getting late. They must wonder where we are."

  "You want to go back to the party?"

  "Yes."

  "So it's like that, Carae, is it?"

  Hearing the discernment in his voice, she sighed. He knew. Of course he knew. "You wanted me to realize that a relationship between us might be a mistake. Didn't you?"

  He sighed again. "I suppose so."

  "Then there's no need to sound so down. Is there?"

  "I suppose not."

  But he clearly seemed disappointed. He rose. "I'll take you back."

  "Thanks."

  "If that's what you want."

  Unable to maintain his gaze, she nodded.

  "Are you sure you want to go back, Carae?"

  She wasn't, but she nodded again.

  "Okay."

  Minutes later, they were back at the Darkwater house. "Aren't you coming in?" She asked when he ushered her inside the open front door but remained outside.

  He placed the picnic basket and the case just inside the door and shook his head. "I think we'd both feel more comfortable if I don't."

  She moistened her lips. Part of her wanted him to stay, another part urged her to leave well enough alone. "They're your friends. I should be the one to go."

  "No. You stay and enjoy yourself." He hesitated before brushing the back of his hand against her cheek. "I'm sorry."

  "For what?"

  He sighed and shook his head. "I'm not sure. I just wish things had been different...that you really wanted to make the things wrong in my life right."

  She stared up at him, taking slow deep breaths. "I meant what I said, but..."

  "It's all right. I admit I'm disappointed, but I do understand." He kissed her fingers and left.

  Watching him drive away, she attempted to convince herself that the regret she felt would be fleeting. How could it be anything else when she'd known him less than twenty-four hours?

  She made her way into a powder room and stood staring at her wide-eyed reflection. Twenty-four hours earlier, you didn't know he existed. Give yourself a couple of weeks of partying and he'll be a distant memory. Now do what you were doing before he arrived—enjoying yourself.

  She went back out to the pool. Enjoying herself took more effort than she'd expected and she quickly decided she'd had enough fun for one day. Two hours later, she was back home, standing on her balcony and trying not to think of Brandon Grayhawk or the disappointment she'd heard in his voice when he realized that she would no longer pursue him.

  He'd gotten his way so she had no need to feel bad because he might have changed his mind about wanting a relationship with her.

  * * *

  "What are you doing back here so early?" Bancroft asked when Brandon returned home.

  He stared at his twin. "You knew."

  "That Carae would be there? Yes, what I don't know is what you're doing back so early."

  "How do you know we aren't meeting later?"

  "If you were, you wouldn't be looking so devastated."

  That was basically how he felt.

  "What happened?"

  He loosened his hair from the band securing it and shook it out around his shoulders. "I happened. She got a taste of what I have to offer and couldn'
t get away from me fast enough."

  "What exactly happened?"

  He told him.

  "Shit! And you think you repelled her?"

  "Oh, I know I did. Before our nap, she was warm, welcoming, and eager to pursue me. Afterwards, she was withdrawn and could barely look at me. I won't have to worry about fighting her off after all."

  "How do you feel about that?"

  He swung around to stare at him. "How do you think I feel?"

  Bancroft crossed the room to place his hand on his shoulder. "I know how you feel and I couldn't be happier."

  "I'm glad one of us is happy."

  "After all, she really was too fresh, sweet, and young for you."

  Carae's about face had left him feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. Worse, he couldn't shake off a feeling of betrayal and deep regret. Now Bancroft wanted to pile on? "Fuck you, Croft." He slapped Bancroft's hand off his shoulder and stalked out of the room and into his bedroom.

  He wrote out a check for Laura and slipped it into an envelope. Then, after stripping, he took a cool shower before slipping on a pair of pajama bottoms and falling onto his bed. He stared at Rissa's picture until he drifted into a series of nightmares that were par for the course.

  When he woke in the early morning hours, he found Bancroft seated in a chair in his moonlit bedroom, watching him.

  He sat up. "Don't look so worried, Croft. I'm all right."

  Bancroft shook his head. "No. You're not, but if I have anything to say about it, you will be."

  He knew the look in his twin's eyes and the determination he heard in his voice. He shook his head. "Leave her alone, Croft. We both know kicking my ass to the curb was in her best interests."

  "What do you think I plan to do, Hawk? Drag her back to your feet kicking and screaming?"

  "I know the lengths to which you'll go when you think I'm in trouble."

  "You are in trouble. For all your fears of hurting her, I can see that you're also in danger of ending up hurt."

  "I can fool the others somewhat, but not you. You know that I'm still in a dark place that I can't dig my way out of."

  Bancroft took a deep breath. "You can with her help."

  "No. You know what I did to Rissa."

  "I know you loved Rissa with every fiber of your being. I know you would have gladly died to protect her. As would I because I knew what she meant to you and what losing her did to you and by extension to me. I know you as you know me and I know Carae can be good for you."

  "At what risk to her?"

  "It's not your fault Rissa is dead. You didn't kill her. You didn't do anything that countless men haven't done before and since you. You had a damned disagreement with her. People have been having them forever and probably always will. That does not make what happened to her in any way your fault. It's the fault and responsibility of the bastard that murdered her. Not yours!"

  "I hurt and disappointed her. I knew what she wanted and needed from me. Instead of giving it to her, I made her feel as if—" He'd driven her into the arms of another man.

  "You also loved her more than any other man could have! And she loved you just as fiercely. You had no way of knowing what would happen to her. You have to accept that and move on."

  He slammed his fist down on the nightstand. "Don't you think I've tried?"

  "You haven't tried hard or long enough. Try again Hoss. This time with Carae. Please; for both our sakes."

  "There isn't much I wouldn't do for you, Croft, but hurting Carae isn't included. I know this is hard on you, but I'd only make her miserable and drag her down into the darkness with me."

  "Or she'd drag you out into the light with her and back into the life filled with the prospects for love and happiness you deserve...but only if she wants to."

  "She's made her choice. Leave her alone."

  "I won't put any undue pressure on her."

  "Croft—"

  "I promise, Hoss."

  "I'll expect you to keep that promise."

  "Will you?"

  Even as he nodded, he struggled with a desire to see her that he knew would plague him and make his life uncomfortable for some time before he was finally able to banish thoughts of her. Of course he would then sink back into the dark pit of regret he'd inhabited since Rissa's murder. But that was preferable to hurting Carae for the sake of his own selfish longing.

  Ah, Carae. If only she were older and just a little jaded, he'd pursue her to satisfy his base desires within her arms. The fact that she had fled from him the moment she got even a hint of the depths of his despair convinced him that he had to protect her from himself.

  "Do you feel like a ride?" Bancroft asked.

  He shook his head. "No. Go out and enjoy what's left of the weekend. I'm not fine, but I'm all right for now, Croft."

  "You're sure?"

  "I promise," he said. "Go delight some lucky woman...or two."

  "If you need me..."

  He nodded. "I know."

  When he was alone, he took a seltzer water out onto the balcony while he listened to one of his favorite country songs called Some Memories Just Won't Die, thought of Rissa, and felt like crying. Only nothing had changed and he couldn't cry for her.

  Then he listened to When I Touch You and thought of Carae. When he touched her, he experienced the first sense of peace and contentment he'd known since Rissa's murder. The only time he didn't think of Rissa and feel as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders was when he was with Carae. And now that she'd rightly turned away from him he envisioned himself once again alone in a romantic dungeon of despair.

  * * *

  Two weeks after she'd last seen Brandon, Carae returned from her Sunday morning run to find Bancroft sitting in an SUV in front of her apartment building.

  "Bancroft."

  He smiled. "Hi."

  She'd talked to Lelia the night before so she knew she was all right. That left..."Is he all right?"

  He shrugged. "Relatively speaking? Yes. Can I buy you breakfast?"

  "Sure, but I'm going to need about forty minutes to get ready."

  "Shall I wait down here?"

  "Of course not. Come upstairs and meet Jim."

  "And he is?"

  "We share the apartment."

  "Is that all you share?"

  She nodded. "Yes."

  "I'm very glad to hear it," he said and slipped his arm around her shoulders.

  Although she'd thought of little else, during the elevator ride, she resisted the urge to ask about Brandon in more detail. Inside the apartment, she was annoyed to find Jim sitting in the living room eating breakfast while surfing the web and wearing nothing more than a pair of revealing briefs.

  "Yours is on the stove," he said, keeping his gaze on his laptop screen.

  "We have company, Jim," she said.

  He looked up, saw Bancroft standing behind her, and rose with a frown on his face. "So, you couldn't stay away after all."

  Carae compressed her lips. Why had she told him about Brandon? "This is Bancroft Grayhawk, Jim. Bancroft, this is Jim Jordan."

  "Bancroft? Oh, the twin," he said.

  Bancroft shook the hand he'd extended. "Yes, the twin," he said. "And you're the roommate."

  "A little more than just a roommate."

  "I think you're flattering yourself a little too much." Bancroft turned to look at Carae. "Shall I make myself comfortable while you get ready?"

  Unnerved by the unexpected tension between the two men, she hesitated.

  Bancroft leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I promise I'll play nice."

  She looked at Jim, only to find him staring at Bancroft with a cool look in his eyes. "If you want to dress, Jim—"

  "Not right now, thanks," he said and resumed his seat. "I'm sure my being comfortable at home doesn't bother your guest."

  "Not in the least," Bancroft said and sat opposite him with a slight smile on his face.

  "I'll be quick," she said, not cert
ain how long she dared leave them alone together or even why they seemed to have taken an instant dislike to each other.

  "Don't rush on our account," Jim said.

  She left them alone and hurried to her bedroom. When she turned to close the door, she was surprised but a little relieved to find Jim following her inside.

  He stepped in and closed the door. "What's he doing here?"

  "I don't know," she said.

  "Probably trying to run interference for his love sick brother."

  "There's no need to be so unkind about someone who's lost the love of his life, Jim and I doubt he's here on Brandon's behalf."

  Jim frowned. "What? You think he's here for himself?"

  She shook her head. "No. He's not interested in me himself."

  "Then what does he want?"

  "I'll find out when we have breakfast."

  "You're going out with him? You think that's a good idea?"

  "How else am I going to find out what he wants?"

  "You could try asking him."

  "I will. For all I know he might want to ask me something to do with Lelia. Now will you please go back into the living room—after you put on some clothes."

  "I'm not putting myself out for him."

  "Jim! Please. I don't want him to think..."

  He narrowed his gaze. "You don't want him to think what?"

  That she'd lied to Brandon about the nature of their current relationship. "At least put on a pair of shorts. For me. Please?"

  "Fine. For you." He left.

  She undressed and took a quick shower. Returning to the living room twenty minutes later, she was relieved to find Jim fully dressed and he in Bancroft watching each other in silence.

  "How long are you going to be?" Jim asked.

  Although she didn't expect to be more than an hour or so, the question annoyed her. "I have no idea," she said and left with Bancroft.

  They walked to one of her favorite cafes just two blocks away to have breakfast.

  "How have you been?" he asked after they'd both received their food.

  "Okay. And that delectable brother of yours?"

  He looked relieved. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Before I ask you to help him, let me tell you something about what we believe about love."

  She shook her head. "I already know he loved her very much and that he feels as if he'll never love again."