Always (23 page)

      "Yes."
A long overdue apology
. She drew a deep breath and followed him inside. The furniture was spare and tasteful. A few antiques, plus a giant denim-covered recliner occupied the main room. Max was curled up on a rug before the cold hearth. All in all, the place was very Gordon. She loved it.

      
Love...?

      "Oh, God," she murmured, and he turned to stare at her from the kitchen doorway. "Oh, God." She felt cold all over and her head spun. Was it the hangover or her close call with the mud slide? No, it was the truth doing this to her.

      She lifted her gaze and met Gordon's, then she simply sat down in the middle of the floor with a rather undignified plop. He hurried over to her and stooped beside her.
 

      "You okay?" He reached for her wrist and checked her pulse. "You're playing the 'Minute Waltz.'
 
Let's get you to the kitchen and some warm coffee. I need to call Sue and tell her we're stranded, and the county about the road or we'll never get out of here."

      Taylor nodded numbly as he helped her up and guided her to the kitchen. She felt lousy, shaky and weak. The warmth of his strong arm around her waist made her feel better and worse all at once.

      She knew the cause of her malady, and it wasn't from too much wine, or a near-death experience on the mountain road. No, it was something much more dangerous. Uncontrollable.

      She was still in love with Gordon Lane.

      Gordon held his breath until he had Taylor settled in a chair at his kitchen table. Even that brief physical contact with her made him too warm, too eager, too horny for his own good.

      Why had she driven up here? She could've been killed by that mud slide. Thank God she was here and safe. He couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her.

      Reminded of that, he went to the phone and called the county to report the road blockage. Last time, it had taken them a week to clear the mess. In good weather, he could hike down the mountain without a road.
 

      But now he had Taylor to worry about. Taylor to look at. Taylor to talk to. Taylor to want...

      After being assured the road would be cleared as soon as possible–whatever that meant–he called the clinic. A very groggy-sounding Sue answered. "Hey, Sue, I'm stranded again."

      She sighed. "When are you going to move off that mountain so this won't happen anymore?"
 

      "Never."

      "Well, in the winter it's snow, and now it's...what?"

      "Mud slide." Gordon glanced at Taylor, who sat staring out the window that spanned the entire back of his cabin. He lowered his voice and said, "It almost got Taylor on her way up here."

      "Taylor?" Sue's tone brightened considerably. "She's there? With you? Stranded?"

      "Well, yeah, I guess you could say that." He cleared his throat, deciding Sue was far too pleased with this turn of events. "Anyway, I called the county, and they're supposed to get the road cleared as–"

      "Soon as possible."

      Gordon chuckled. "Right."

      "I'll cancel your appointments and call Dr. Swensen in Buena Vista to take call for Taylor, and Mt. Harvard Animal Hospital to cover for you."

      "Thanks."

      "Don't mention it."

      Definitely too pleased. Thunder rumbled overhead and rain fell in sheets. He sighed. "If it ever stops raining, we'll hike down to town and I'll stay with Mom until the road's clear."

      "No hurry," Sue said. "Everything here will keep until the slide is cleaned up."

      "Hmm, I'll keep you posted."

      "You do that, and make sure you don't try to come down the mountain until after the full moon."

      "What?" Frowning, he shot a sidelong glance at Taylor, who was still staring out the window at the deluge. "What's so important about the moon?"

      "Trust me on this, Gordon," Sue said emphatically. "It's very important that you and Taylor not leave there until after the full moon."

      He chuckled and shook his head. "You're nuts, Sue. When is the full moon?" Taylor turned to look at him with a quizzical expression and he shrugged.

      "It's...either tonight or tomorrow night. Your calendar here doesn't say." He heard papers shuffling. "Just don't try to come down the mountain until Friday. Promise?"

      "I'm sure it'll take the county longer than that to get the road clear anyway," he said. "Besides, the way it's raining, they won't even be able to start clearing today."

      "Good."

      "Absolutely nuts."

      "We aim to please. Take care of Taylor. 'Bye."

      Gordon hung up the phone and scratched his chin, wondering what sort of insanity had its grip on Sue now. PMS was last week. He felt Taylor's gaze on him and gave her a sheepish grin.       "Sue's nuts," he said.

      "A nice nut, though." Her smile and her eyes looked wistful.

      
Something's different
. "Coffee's done. How do you take yours?" He opened the cabinet door and took down two white mugs, trying not to think about why and how Taylor was different.

      "A little milk, if you have it. No sugar." Taylor rose and came to stand beside him.

      He felt her warmth at his side, and something terrifying unfolded in his chest. Not only was he alone here with the only woman he'd ever really loved, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was somehow right. Taylor looked good standing in his kitchen.

      
Get over it, Lane
. Angry at himself, he whirled around and opened the refrigerator, then grabbed the milk carton. He turned around and found her watching him–staring, really. Her eyes were large and moist, her expression lost.

      "What is it, Taylor?" he asked, suddenly worried that something was terribly wrong. "Why'd you drive up here this morning?"

      She cleared her throat and took the milk carton from him, pouring a little into her cup. When she turned to face him again, she said, "I came to apologize."

      He shook his head, trying to remember what she should be apologizing for. "I don't–"

      "This may take a while." She sighed and a sad smile curved her lips. "Shall we sit here or in the living room?"

      "It's getting chilly," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'll light a fire." He poured coffee into both their cups, then led the way back to the living room. "I guess this is sort of a forced vacation."

      "Hmm. Yes, it is." She sat on the braided rug before the hearth, the coffee mug clutched in both hands. She raised it to her lips and took a long, slow drink. "You make good coffee, Gordon."

      She looked even better in this room than she had in his kitchen. Paralyzed, he stood staring at her for several seconds, then remembered the fire. He set his cup on an end table, then laid the fire and made sure the damper was open. A few moments later, he had a cheery blaze going.

      "That feels nice," she said, bathed in the orange glow of the flames.
 

      He should've taken his cup and sat in his recliner, but some invisible force prompted him to join her on the rug instead. "This rain seems to be settling in for the duration." He reached for his coffee and took a long drink, trying to ignore the voices in the back of his mind that were overjoyed to have Taylor Bowen here.

      Alone.

      She was so close. He could touch her if he wanted–and, oh, he really wanted–but he wouldn't. He'd vowed to put that–her–behind him.
 

      "You didn't keep the red Jeep."

      Startled from his reverie, he met her gaze again. The room was bathed in shadows, though it was late morning. Heavy clouds and fog shrouded the cabin, forming a cocoon of privacy so absolute it stole his breath and ignited his blood.

      "I...I didn't like the red one." He took another drink of coffee. "Blue suits me better."

      "Yes, it does." She fell silent again.

      He watched her staring at the flames, her expression solemn but intense. "And you kept Henrietta."

      "Yeah, I couldn't part with her." He cleared his throat and continued to watch her, burning to reach out and touch her cheek where the firelight made her glow like a ripe peach.
Damn
. The thought of peaches reminded him of other things, and his blood flow followed his gaze south. Her breasts filled out her knit top nicely. Really nicely.

      "Gordon, I came here to apologize."

      "You said that already." His words sounded terse, though he was only angry at himself and his inability to control his thoughts around this woman. "I'm sorry, that didn't come out right."

      Taylor took a sip of coffee. "It's all right. We've both waited a long time for this."

      His heart pressed against his throat and his gut clenched. "For what?"

      She leaned forward and placed her cup on an end table, her breasts straining against her shirt, making him ache to fill his hands with her, to taste her, to bury himself inside her again.
Get over it, Lane.

      Clenching his teeth, he put his empty cup on the table and draped his arms over his knees. He was so hard, this position pinched badly, but he figured the pain was what he deserved and might help bring his libido back under control.

      "Why are you here, Taylor?" He turned to look at her. "Really?"

      "To apologize." She turned to face him, tucking her legs beneath her.
 

      "For what?"

      She reached for his hand. His first impulse was to jerk it away, but she was so soft and warm and close. So Taylor. He couldn't bring himself to break the contact. "For what?" he repeated softly.

      She closed her eyes for a moment, then reopened them to imprison him. Their green depths held him captive.
 

      "For not trusting you."

      He furrowed his brow, trying to follow her. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're–"
 
He closed his eyes, then reopened them to search her face for an answer. "Sue."

      Taylor nodded slowly, her lower lip trembling. "She came over last night and we talked."

      He drew a shaky breath and held it, finally releasing it very slowly. "So now you know."

      "Yes, and I know how wrong I was for not trusting you." Her voice quavered ominously. "I...should've–"

      "Doesn't matter now, Taylor." He pulled his hand free of hers and stared at the flames. "Ancient history."

      "It matters to me."

      He tilted his head and looked at her. She looked vulnerable and desirable, which did nothing to abate his burgeoning lust. "Why does it matter now?"

      And why couldn't he use his anger to control his desire? There really was no justice in the world. Why did he want a woman who'd wronged him like this?

      "It matters to me, because I..."

      "Because why?" He met and held her gaze, reading her torment in her eyes. "Guilt?"

      She nodded slowly. "That's part of it," she admitted. "I messed up so many things by not trusting you. If only I'd come and talked to you..."

      He jerked his gaze away. The sense of betrayal he'd felt all those years ago returned with a vengeance and he clenched his fists. After several deep breaths, he met her gaze again.

      "I've never cared about anyone the way I cared for you, Taylor." He gripped his knees, struggling to keep his cool. She wanted the truth out in the open now, and he was determined to give it to her. All of it.

      "I..." Her face crumpled and tears streamed down her cheeks.

      "God, don't cry." He couldn't stand a crying woman. "Just...don't."

      She mopped at her tears with her sleeve, then sniffled. "I'm sorry." She reached for his hand again, but he maintained his grip on his knees.
 

      "I'm listening. Let's get this over with."

      She left her hand covering his. He desperately wanted to grab her and haul her into his lap. He wanted to hold her to him so she could never leave again.

      But she
would
leave. In three years.

      "I was so hurt when Sue came to me and told me she was pregnant with your child," she continued. "If any other girl had told me such a tale, I never would've believed it.
Never.
"

      He nodded, knowing that was true. "You just left. You..." He leveled his gaze on hers. "You didn't even say good-bye. You threw it all away without a backward glance."

      "No, I never forgot." She shifted her weight until she knelt before him. "I never forgot."

      His throat burned and his head pounded. He'd shed his tears for Taylor long, long ago, and he wasn't about to do it now. "All right, so you've apologized."
 

      She reached out and touched his cheek, caressing him with her fingertips. "I carried your face in my mind when I left," she whispered.