Children of Destiny Books 1-3 (Texas: Children of Destiny Book 9) Page 13

  She slid to the other side of the bed, silently rolling over and turning her back to him. He heard her as she began to sob quietly in the darkness, and all the ecstasy he’d known only a minute before drained from his heart.

  His loving her had changed nothing.

  Amy awoke to the startling image of Nick’s golden head bathed in glorious sunlight, but she did not at first comprehend that there was anything abnormal about waking in his arms. The room was warm, the cotton sheets soft against her body, and she felt enveloped in a cocoon of sated sensuality.

  Her raven hair flowed over his arms like glistening skeins of spilled silk. His body heat had been like a magnet in the night, drawing her close, and at some point she had snuggled against his shoulder.

  Slowly it came to her that although it was delicious lying with him, it was something she should never have done. Amy swallowed hard and averted her eyes from Nick.

  She was naked, her arms and legs tangled intimately in his. One of his thighs was sprawled across her stomach, locking her tightly beneath him. His fingers were curved possessively over her breast. Her freshly awakened body felt throbbingly aware of him.

  As she remembered what she had done, remorse washed over her. At the same time she felt every flutter and subtle nuance of sensation at his slightest movement.

  Why? Why had she let it happen?

  How could she have stopped it?

  Hadn’t she known that from the moment he’d returned, such a night as the one they’d shared was inevitable?

  Trying not to awaken him, she made an attempt to shift out of his embrace, but that was not possible. He had only been pretending to sleep. He caught her playfully by the wrist and pulled her back.

  “Good morning,” his sleepy voice rasped lovingly.

  His thigh was rock hard against her hip bone. His fingers were tongues of flame upon her slender wrist as he drew her nearer.

  As Nick’s indolent gaze swept the length of her womanly form, the warm tremor of desire made his eyes light hotly.

  Her eyes met his, and she saw at once that it would never be possible to convince him that what had happened had been no more than an irresistible moment of madness, that it must never, never happen again. His eyes staked his claim to a fresh and torrid passion.

  His mouth lowered to hers, and he kissed her with such bewildering tenderness, that all her thoughts of protest died. Hands that might have fought to push him away, trembled and then slid around his neck and clasped him passionately. A low moan escaped her lips.

  He kissed her lips, her throat, her breasts, his mouth moving ever lower, stirring her, awakening in her the old aching need.

  How could it seem like forever since she’d been loved when it had only been a few short hours?

  With his mouth he worshiped her, and soon nothing mattered but his lips and the flame of desire flaring in the center of her being.

  His head nestled into her belly. Gently he forced her thighs apart. She felt the roughness of his cheeks as they slid rhythmically against her velvet skin. He drove her wild with his tongue and lips.

  Her body writhed shamelessly. Her fingers curled into the thickness of his hair and pulled him even closer until she felt the building of an elemental and primitive explosion from deep within her being.

  “Nick.” His name was a raw agonized sound.

  Dear Lord! How she loved him! She was frantic for him. Her cry rent the air as quivering rapture flooded every living cell of her body.

  Afterward they lay quietly for a long time. She was ashamed of how completely she had surrendered herself to him, of how deeply she adored him.

  Vaguely she wondered how she would ever find the strength to fight the battle that lay before her.

  It was Nick who got out of bed first. “I’d forgotten how hot-blooded you are,” he said on a low, self-satisfied chuckle. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

  “I had forgotten, too,” she admitted, unable to deny his power.

  It was something she had struggled to forget.

  “Next time,” he whispered, “it will be your turn to make love to me.”

  His eyes were brilliant, and the answering excitement his words aroused filled her with desire and dread. There couldn’t be a next time. There mustn’t be...

  But even as she thought of how she must deny him, she turned her lips to his and let him claim them in a passionate kiss.

  She loved him, no matter what he’d done. But if she had been misled all those years ago, if it was she who had wronged him, would his love for her be as strong?

  When Nick and Amy came into the kitchen, they were astonished to find Sam and Triple already there, having waited for them before eating breakfast. A mood of celebration hung in the air. Sam usually didn’t cook, but he was up and about, whistling and smiling by the stove, his cane forgotten against the wall.

  On the counter was a generous platter of fried ham and eggs, English muffins, and glasses of fresh orange juice. A radiant Triple was rushing around the kitchen, carrying plates and silverware, and setting the table, showing an unusual amount of exuberance for a task he normally found tedious. Only Lorrie was absent.

  The minute Nick and Amy stepped inside, an embarrassed hush fell, then Sam boisterously greeted them. “Great morning!”

  “Couldn’t be better,” Nick replied on a bold vibrant note, smiling broadly as he encircled a glowing Amy with his arms and drew her close. Triple watched with shining eyes as his father tenderly kissed his blushing mother on the forehead. Nick’s lovingly reverent expression was such that no one but a blind person could have mistaken the change in their relationship since the night before. If Nick had pounded his chest and shouted they’d had world-class sex from the rooftops, he could not have gotten his message across more clearly.

  As Triple danced across the kitchen to get the paper napkins and set them out, the boy began to sing to himself in that raucous off-key way that so reminded Amy of Nick. Suddenly Triple gave a cry of joy and threw himself into his parents’ arms. “Are we a real family now? Is Dad going to stay for good?”

  Amy could only clutch her child tightly with shaking fingers. She heard Nick’s voice, deep and gentle, filled with love.

  “Yes, I’ll be staying—for good.”

  “Is he, Mom? I mean—really?”

  She felt Nick’s arms around her. She looked down at Triple. She wanted it to be true so much that she could not deny it.

  “Really, son,” Nick said softly.

  “Breakfast’s ready!” Sam said.

  “Sit down everyone,” Nick murmured. He sat at the head of the table and began shoveling eggs and ham and a muffin onto everybody’s plates.

  Amy couldn’t look at him. Her eyes were swimming with tears of happiness. A fragile hope was beginning to take root in her heart.

  Nick began to make plans. “Of course, this means I’ll have to make some changes, but I’ve already spoken to Sebastian about moving the headquarters of South Sails to L.A., and he has no objections.”

  “You were that sure?” Amy whispered, looking at Nick wonderingly from across the table.

  He merely smiled at her boldly, in that confident way of his. “After breakfast, I’m going to call my father and Mercedes. I want them to come immediately. And maybe I’ll even invite Jeb,” he said smiling ruefully.

  Jeb was Nick’s older half brother, and there had always been a friendly rivalry between them, instead of the closeness that had existed between Nick and Jack.

  “Oh boy! Grandfather and Mercedes and Uncle Jeb are coming!”

  Triple knew his father’s relatives because every July Nick had dutifully flown his son to Texas to their ranch for a week.

  “Why don’t we go to the ranch and see them, Dad! Mercedes wrote me at Christmas that she’d bought a pony named Nugget. He’s small enough for me to ride. She said he’s as sweet and gentle as a puppy and comes up to you to be petted. She said Nugget can talk and Nugget wants me to come because there’s nobody there
little enough to ride him. He gets lonely for a kid to play with.”

  “Soon,” Nick said, grinning. “First you have to get well and catch up on your schoolwork.”

  Amy said, “Nick, don’t you think, maybe…you’re rushing things? Maybe we should get used to one another...”

  “I’m not rushing things. We’ve been married five years, and you’ve never met my family. We have the rest of our lives to get used to one another.”

  “You’ll like them, Mom!”

  Nick, Sam, and Triple kept talking enthusiastically of all the things they would do as a family. Amy toyed with her food, twisting her fork in her egg as she listened to them. She felt weighed down by her secrets and doubts. Nevertheless, she wanted to believe what they all believed—that she and Nick could really become a normal married couple with in-laws and family breakfasts like this one, that the past and a long-ago lie would not tear up all their lives again.

  She had been alone too long. She wanted to be happy, but before that was possible, she had to see Lorrie.

  Nick called his family in Texas. Later he spoked to Sebastian to arrange the South Sails move. It was with some difficulty that Amy convinced Triple he had to go back to his bed and rest. He agreed when she allowed him to take two jars filled with spiders and his chrysalis to bed. Only after Nick had gone and Triple was settled, did Amy dare to call Lorrie.

  Lorrie’s voice was immediately defensive and so faint Amy could hardly hear it. “He told you something, didn’t he? That’s why you called.”

  Amy’s hands felt clammy. Had Lorrie really lied? Amy almost blurted the question before she realized she had to proceed cautiously. “We’ve got to talk.”

  “I don’t want to see…him,” Lorrie continued in the same fearful defensive tone.

  Amy had to steel herself. “He’ll be out all day.”

  “I don’t want—”

  “If I have to, I’ll come over there.” Amy had never spoken to her sister so firmly.

  “A-Amy—”

  “It’s time we faced the truth. I have to know...everything. I want you to come to the house and talk to me.”

  Lorrie only made a strangled, guttural sound.

  *

  Their phone call had been over for an hour before Lorrie came. Amy had paced the floor impatiently, wondering as the hour grew later, if Lorrie’s faint courage had failed her. Then Amy heard her sister outside.

  Amy threw open the door. The day was full of brilliant sunshine. Lorrie stood on tiptoe as if poised for flight. She was standing in the shadows, her face white with panic.

  “Oh, Lorrie.” Amy hugged her gently. “There’s no reason for you to be afraid—not of me.”

  At her kindness, Lorrie seemed to shrink even more deeply into the shadows.

  A telling glance passed between the two sisters before Lorrie allowed herself to be led wordlessly inside. Amy’s face was flushed and radiant. Lorrie looked pale and haunted.

  Amy fought to ignore the twist of guilt brought by the knowledge that she was the cause of her sister’s anguish.

  “You look different,” Lorrie said in a trembling voice, taking in Amy’s brilliant eyes and her glowing expression. “It’s him. He’s the reason you look so happy.”

  Amy could not deny it. She whispered breathlessly, “Yes.”

  When Amy closed the door to the den so that they could be alone, she didn’t notice that the door didn’t quite latch and fell short of the jamb by an inch or so.

  “I-it’s the way you were before,” Lorrie stammered hesitantly, not quite daring to look at Amy, “that summer...when you were planning to go away with him.”

  “I love him.”

  Lorrie’s eyes were immense. “But...” She was trembling as though on the verge of hysteria.

  Amy saw the agony in her sister’s eyes, and it was all she could do to quell the powerful maternal feelings that swelled in her heart. She had always taken care of Lorrie and had never willfully caused her pain. “I don’t care what he did. He wants to put the past behind us.”

  “You really love him...more...”

  “More than anything. I can’t deny it any longer, even though I know it brings you pain. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Lorrie. Or Triple. It’s just that Nick’s first. Even after... what happened. I have to know about that night... when you were together. Yesterday he tried to talk to me about it, but I wouldn’t let him. He seemed so honest, so forthright, and because of our lie to him, I couldn’t talk to him.”

  Lorrie began to shiver. She looked like a worried child who knew she’d done wrong and was afraid of being punished.

  “I wanted to talk to you first—alone,” Amy said. “I want a real marriage with him. That’s why we—all of us—have to face the whole truth about that night. You want me to be happy, don’t you?”

  Lorrie’s fearful eyes had grown even larger, and she looked more deeply troubled and uncertain than ever. “I— I want you to be happy,” Lorrie began slowly, “and I’ve known you weren’t—for a long time. It’s all my fault, too. But I’ve never known what to do about it. I’m not brave like you. I’ve always been so weak.”

  Amy took Lorrie’s cold hands in hers and kissed them. “I don’t blame you.”

  Lorrie’s face was taut and drawn as she regarded Amy closely. “But what about Triple?” Lorrie whispered. “What about him?”

  “I said we have to tell Nick the whole truth.”

  “You can’t mean—”

  There was a gulf of silence. Amy’s face grew as ashen and doubt-filled as Lorrie’s.

  “We have to tell him that you’re really Triple’s natural mother, Lorrie.”

  The silence between them deepened as Lorrie stared at her in mute horror.

  Neither spoke. Neither moved. It was as if a freezing fear held them both in its paralyzing grip.

  “You know we do!” Amy said.

  Lorrie pulled her hands free. “But you promised we’d never,” she shouted, “that no one would ever know that you weren’t his real mother.”

  Amy went on talking. “We have to tell him that when we found out you were pregnant with his child, you wouldn’t let me go to him. So I went to Sebastian instead and said I was in trouble. We went away together. You pretended to be me. You used my identification. You dyed your hair black. We have to tell him everything, every single detail.” Amy swallowed back the lump in her throat. “How difficult the birth was; how the doctor said you should never have another child.”

  “No...” Lorrie turned away. “We can’t. We just can’t.

  “Nick has to know. We can’t make a true, fresh start unless we deal with this honestly.”

  Lorrie was standing at the window. She turned. Her white face was drawn with horror.

  “We can’t ever do that! Don’t you see? We can’t ever!” Tears were streaming down her face.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’ll lose both Triple and Nick for sure, if you do.”

  “That’s a risk I have to take.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what?” Amy whispered, dreading the answer, wondering, doubting, half hoping.

  “There’s something you don’t know. Something I never told you. Something so awful that you’ll hate me forever when I tell you. I only did it because...” Lorrie wrung her hands. Her eyes pleaded for an understanding Amy couldn’t give her.

  A terrible knot began to form in Amy’s stomach. She felt queasy with fear. “What are you saying?”

  Lorrie’s eyes fell guiltily. “Nick didn’t sleep with me! It was Jack! Not Nick! Nick came home and found us together. He sent Jack away. Nick stayed and talked to me. He told me Jack and I were too young for that sort of relationship, that we weren’t old enough to accept the responsibilities that went along with it. He told me how worried you were about me—that I was to tell you everything. I looked up and saw you at the window. He told me he loved you, that he was going to marry you, that someday when I was o
lder I would find a man who would love me in the same way. When you ran away that night without confronting us, I began to see a way.”

  “No...” For a moment Amy stood petrified, her face as bloodless as if she were a statue cut from some pale, cold slab of marble.

  “I know it was wrong, what I did, to sleep with Jack, and then to lie,” Lorrie said quietly. “I’ve known it for years, but I didn’t know how to make it right again. Maybe I didn’t want to make it right. I’ve never had your ability to fight...for anything. I was sixteen. I was jealous and scared of Nick. All I knew was that he was going to take you away. I’d lost Mother. Daddy was never there for me. You were all I had. You were like my mother, only sweeter. You always put me first, spoiled me. I couldn’t lose you. Oh, I was wrong. I loved you so much, but I ruined your life. There’ve been times I’ve come close to telling you, but I never could. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought you’d forget him. Maybe I would have told you the truth if I hadn’t been pregnant. I’d already let you believe I’d slept with Nick so I let you assume Nick was the father too, so the lie went on and on. I was too young to be a mother. I couldn’t face bringing up a baby. You said we had to tell Nick the truth because it was his child, and I got so scared I ran away.”

  “N-no...”

  “I wanted to die that night. I walked along those slippery rocks and fell into the ocean. I wanted to die like Mother, but I didn’t. You were so scared for me, so sweet to me, and I made you promise you wouldn’t ever go to Nick. So you went to Sebastian. Then Nick found out, and forced you to marry him. Everything got so twisted and mixed up, and I just couldn’t see any way we’d ever straighten it out. But don’t you see, you can’t tell Nick the truth. Not now. He’s not Triple’s father at all. He’ll only hate us both.”

  Amy studied her sister, seeing her fragile, childlike face and yet not seeing it, realizing for the first time in a kind of dazed amazement that she had lived with Lorrie for years and had never known her true character.

  Oh, the terrible, terrible weapons of the weak.

  “Say something, Amy, p-please... Forgive...”

  Amy kept looking at her sister, whose tear-filled eyes were downcast, whose bright head dropped disconsolately with shame.