A Love for All Time (8 page)

Judy stayed until Monday morning and they drove into Newport where she took a bus to Corvallis. After shopping at the supermarket, Casey drove back to the cabin and parked the car in the carport. By the time she unloaded her groceries and put them away she was exhausted. She was thankful that she could lie down on the bed and take a nap if she wanted to and there would be no one to bother her.

Tuesday and Wednesday slipped by. Casey lounged in the sun in front of the cabin, went for short walks on the beach, and read three paperback novels. She made occasional trips to the stand for a newspaper or a bag of fruit and carefully avoided going beyond the “Hello, how are you?” stage with the owners and the other occupants of the resort. She had seen the cashier looking at her hands when she paid for her purchases and had almost expected her to murmur, “Oh, you poor thing,” or something equally as pitying. She wasn’t strong enough to face that yet, so she beat a hasty retreat to her cabin.

Wednesday had been her worst day. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the thought out of her mind that this was the day Dan returned from Japan. After he left she had convinced herself his leaving had been a good way for him to break off the visits to the hospital. He had already signed the necessary papers to take care of the doctor and hospital costs. She had to admit it was considerate of him to pay without a hassle between her insurance
company and his. He had told her that it was a cut and dried case, and his company would pay.

Sometime during the day, she decided that Dan was a consummate actor, if there ever was one. He had seemed so sincere, so gentle. She could have easily fallen in love with him if she had been exposed to his charm much longer. Ha! She snorted in self-disgust for even thinking about him. He could be another Eddie Farrow, for all she knew, with a wife and six kids waiting at home.

By the end of the week Casey was walking into town and back without exhausting her strength. She found a health food store and bought a mixture of nut meats, raisins, and whole grains to munch on. No one paid much attention to the slim girl in the soft, faded jeans and baggy sweat shirt, with the scarf tied over her hair and a floppy hat tilted over her eyes. The weather was still warm during the day. It was past the first of September and school had started, so the tourists came now only on the weekends.

With calm precision Casey carefully made plans for what she was going to do with her life. In a few weeks she would go to Salem or Corvallis and scan the want ads for work. She didn’t particularly care what it was, just something to support her while she waited for the series of operations that would take the scar from her face and replace the missing portion of her earlobe.

When not working, she decided, she would use her spare time to sew clothes to sell in a shop she
planned to open in one of the small coastal resort towns. Handmade garments sold for premium prices and she was an excellent seamstress. She had made her own clothes, even her jeans with her own label, for years. She liked clothes and knew she had a knack for adding special touches that made them unique. Casey spent hours each day going through fashion magazines, making notes and sketches. Now that she had a goal, the world looked brighter, and she was positive in time she wouldn’t even remember dark gray eyes, a square jaw, and a nose that leaned slightly to one side.

The weekend tourists left and the town and beach were quiet once again. Casey was walking several miles a day by the middle of the week. Her self-esteem rose as the exercise and good food strengthened her body. She would survive this traumatic experience just as she and her mother had survived when Eddie left them and as she had survived her mother’s death when she was a confused teenager.

On Friday she drove into town to stock up on groceries for the weekend. She bought a new novel by her favorite author and several magazines. As she watched the stores opening for the weekenders she felt increasingly confident that she could make a custom-made clothing shop pay off.

In the evening after showering and preparing for bed, she slid her long slim body between the sheets and opened her new novel.

She was so engrossed in the story that the sound
of a sharp rap on the door startled her badly. She sat up in bed as the rap came again.

“Yes. Who is it?” she called and reached for the robe on the end of the bed.

“Phone call.” The voice was low and muffled and she wasn’t sure she’d heard those words.

Casey belted her robe and glanced in the mirror to pull her bangs down over her forehead and to make sure her ear was covered.

“Did you say phone call?”

“Yes’m.”

Something terrible must have happened for Judy to be calling at this time of night, she thought wildly and hurried to unbolt the door. She flung it open and the back of her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes became enormous, and a cold shiver crept down her spine.

Dan stood on widespread legs, those long, muscular legs encased in faded jeans, his hands jammed in the pockets of a worn denim jacket. His dark eyes held hers and from his expression she thought he might grab her and shake her. But when he spoke, his voice was even, almost impersonal.

“I just moved in next door and I’d like to borrow a cup of sugar.”

Five

“D
an,” Casey whispered
, staring wide-eyed up into his face.

“Casey, my darling. “There was a curiously soothing quality in his words, as if he were calming her, quieting her the way he had done on the night she woke with her eyes bandaged.

Casey shook her head. “What are you doing here?”

He came into the room, closed the door, and leaned against it. “I’ve come to get my Guinevere,” he said simply.

“You’ve got to be out of your mind.”

“You’re repeating yourself, sweetheart. You’ve told me that before.”

“Dan, listen to me,” she pleaded, gazing up at him with anxious determination. “I’ve got enough worries in my life right now, trying to get my strength back, finding a job, starting a new life, without interference from you.” She was highly conscious of his physical strength and the patience in his eyes as they swept over her. “I have my life planned, Dan, and you’re not part of it.”

He pushed himself away from the door. It hardly seemed that he had moved, but there he was looming over her. He appeared to be larger, more rugged, almost primitive.

“What makes you so sure of that?” he asked with a hint of a smile.

“I have my own life to live and it would never in a hundred years be compatible with yours.” He laughed and she wanted to hit him. “Stop laughing,” she snapped. Her eyes searched his face in puzzlement. “Why? Why are you pursuing this relationship? You hardly know me!”

“Hardly know you?” He looked thoughtful for a moment while his fingers came up and fingered a strand of her hair. “It’s true that I haven’t known you for a long time. But it’s been long enough for me to know that you’re intelligent, witty, have a capricious personality, and that I would never be bored with you in a million years.” His dark eyes lit up with mischievous delight. “I found myself attuned
to you right from the start. Does that sound as if I hardly know you?”

Casey’s features took on a look of carved stone, her clear tawny-gold eyes grew cold and unseeing. “If you’re looking for a new partner for an interlude of sexual fun and games, forget it. It’s not my style.”

His long fingers curved around her chin, forcing her to face him. “Believe me, Casey. An ‘interlude’ with you never crossed my mind.” His hands moved lightly over her shoulders. “I don’t know where to touch you.” He groaned. “And God knows, I want to!” He watched her face closely to see if she winced when his hands moved down her back.

Casey watched his mouth moving toward hers and instinctively splayed her fingers against his chest. Then his mouth deliberately took slow, sensual possession of hers and her lips parted invitingly beneath his, as if she had no control over them. She inhaled the heady fragrance of his aftershave and her tongue tasted the fresh flavor of his mouth. His breathing was ragged and she could feel the pounding of his heart even though he was holding her lightly against him. His hands moved down her back and over her hips, caressing, while his mouth pressed against her with a hungry urgency. Her rapidly disintegrating common sense told her she was treading on dangerous ground and had better act while she could.

“Dan … please,” she managed thickly. Then as
his hand moved from the nape of her neck to push the hair back from her face, she uttered a sharp, “Don’t do that!” She jerked herself away from him and turned her back. Nervous hands smoothed the hair around her face.

He was behind her, close, his hands on her upper arms. “Casey,” he said in a voice that rasped with emotion. “Surely you know I didn’t follow you here for a one night stand.” He pressed his cheek against her smooth one. She could hear the scrape of his whiskers on her cheek and the pounding of his heart against her back. His mouth traced a pattern along her jaw line. “I want you to be well and strong when I make love to you. I don’t think I’ll always be gentle, my Guinevere.”

“Please stop calling me that.” A distant part of Casey’s mind was aware that she was succumbing to an uncontrollable desire to lean back against him, to let his strength support her. “You know there was no Camelot, no Guinevere,” she said desperately, striving to put some reality into the situation.

“Who says there wasn’t a Camelot? There was a Sir Lancelot and there was a Guinevere, just like there’s a Santa Claus and a tooth fairy if we believe it.” His hands turned her to face him. “Don’t be frightened by this,” he murmured. “It’s new to me, too. Until a few short weeks ago, I never expected to become involved with anyone, to spend all my waking moments thinking about someone. I had to come here to be with you for awhile and find out what it is about you that fascinates me so. It’s as
simple as that.” His hands slid to either side of her waist. “Does it hurt you when I hold you here?”

“No,” Casey whispered. “I only have two really sore spots left.”

“Your breast and your ear?” She nodded, her eyes still caught by his. “I’ll be careful of them.” His voice deepened and his dark eyes never left her gold ones until he lowered his head and his mouth claimed hers with a gentle stamp of ownership. Casey stood quietly with her eyes closed. He traced her upper lip with the tip of his tongue before he raised his head to look at her. He took her hands and brought them up to his neck. “Kiss me once, m’lady,” he said huskily, then, “Your hands are cold, get back into bed.”

Casey kissed him gently on the lips, then pulled away to look at him. She wanted to say something that made her action sensible. But the truth was she had done it purely in reaction to his request. You’re making a mistake, her mind screamed. You’re getting in deeper and deeper. Use some common sense and tell him to leave. All you have to do is stay firm, she told herself.

He moved quickly and swung her up in his arms.

“Dan …!”

Without a word he carried her to the bed and laid her down. His big hand grasped her bare foot. “Your feet are like ice. Why didn’t you say something?” He rubbed first one foot and then the
other between his large palms until she could feel the warmth begin to return.

She lay as if in a trance until he reached up to untie the belt of her dressing gown. “No! No … don’t!” She grabbed at his hands and he straightened and looked down at her.

“I’d never hurt you. You must believe that.” There was a world of feeling in the murmured words and against her will she felt them pull at her heart.

“I … don’t want it off.”

“Okay,” he said patiently. “But get under the covers.” He picked up the novel and placed it on the table, then pulled the covers up over her. Her eyes widened in alarm when he began to remove his jacket. “I’m starving. I hope you’ve got some food in the refrigerator.” He threw his jacket on the end of the bed and went into the kitchenette. His large body seemed to fill it. “I didn’t have time to stop if I was going to find this place before dark,” he went on with great calm. He brought out the cheese, bread, and some eggs and placed them on the counter. “I’ll have a cheese omelet. Want one?” He bent to bring a pan from beneath the counter and didn’t see the negative shake of her head. “Just what I need. Nothing cooks an omelet like an iron skillet. What? No toaster? Oh, well, I like my bread buttered and put under the broiler just as well. A little more trouble, though. But remember that.”

Casey watched him, smiled a little at the careful way he broke the eggs. Then like a thunderbolt it
struck her how relaxed she was and how natural it seemed to have him here. She wondered what it was about this man that made her so leery of him, even though he inspired so much confidence. He was no stranger to the stove. She could tell by the way he poured a small amount of oil in the skillet, grasped the handle with a towel and tilted it so the hot oil could slide over the surface.

Later, whistling under his breath, he turned the skillet over a plate and dumped a high, fluffy omelet onto it. He grinned proudly.

“Usually when I try to show off my culinary skills everything goes wrong. This must be my lucky day.” He cut out a wedge, lifted it to a plate, and then walked over to the bed. “Try this, m’lady,” he said with a courtly bow and smiled mischievously. It was impossible for Casey not to respond.

“Aye, m’lord,” she said and lowered her lashes demurely. “If only thy skill with the sword equaled thy skill with the skillet.” She raised laughing eyes to his.

He placed the plate on the table beside her. “I am also skilled at slapping bottoms of mouthy maidens, m’lady.” He straightened and winked at her. “Should the occasion arise, it would be a most pleasurable task.”

Casey’s laughter broke free of its own accord. The whole idea of them behaving like this without any of the usual undertones of aggression and conflict struck her as ridiculous. It must be the atmosphere in this place, she mused. She didn’t know
why, but she felt comfortable and relaxed. In fact she had never felt more safe or more comfortable in her life. It was as if she had been carrying a hollow spot inside of her and suddenly it was filled. She didn’t understand it and didn’t want to analyze it, just enjoy it. She shoved the thought aside. Like Scarlett, she would think about it tomorrow.