Stormy Passion (36 page)

Brenna curled her feet up in the chair.
“Sleepy Hollow does have a way of making you feel peaceful.” She
took a sip of cocoa before adding, “You can't work all the time.
It's not healthy.”

His eyebrow raised at her advice. “You're a
fine one to talk.”

For over an hour, they chatted and watched
the snow while indulging in cookies and hot chocolate. And, for a
little while, all the hurt and pain was forgotten. They shoved the
outside world away as two friends talked and shared of themselves
as they could with no other.

A log fell in the fireplace sending sparks
shooting up the chimney. The noise jarred Brenna back to reality.
She really hated to end this wonderful evening since it was the
first time in a long while she’d felt like herself. But it was
getting late.

“
I'd better put some wood
on the fire and call it a night.” Brenna stood and held her hand
out for Taylor's cup. “The festival starts tomorrow, and I promised
Lisa a fun-filled day. And, I dare not break that
promise.”

“
I'm glad to see Lisa is
walking. What happened?”

“
It's a long story,” Brenna
hedged. “I was lucky enough to find a doctor who specialized in hip
replacements. The rest is simply a miracle.”

Taylor came to his feet and handed her the
mug. “I'll help you with the fire.”

When she returned from the kitchen, Taylor
had stirred up the coals and the crackling fire echoed around the
quiet room.

“
You have a knack for
that,” Brenna said from behind him as she watched Taylor shove the
last log into the flames. She couldn't help noticing his fine
physique.

“
Thanks. That should last
through the night.” He stood up and brushed off his hands,
chuckling softly as he replaced he fire screen. “It's been a long
time since I've built a fire. I'm glad to see I haven't lost my
touch. I don't know when I've had such a good time doing
nothing.”

“
Perhaps the mountain life
suits you.” Brenna didn't realize she had been standing so close to
Taylor until he turned and they stood face to face.

“
Perhaps it does,” Taylor
murmured in a husky voice.

Brenna didn't move. Couldn't move. She knew
she should run, but the passion in Taylor's eyes held her. He
didn't try to hide any of his feelings, yet she was unsure what she
saw in his eyes.

“
Brenna,” he whispered as
he reached out and pulled her into his embrace.

She didn't resist; instead she closed her
eyes and tipped her face instinctively toward him. This was the
same dream she'd had a hundred times before. She remembered his
woodsy scent and the warmth of his body. All the things she had
longed for, for so long. She naturally fitted against him in that
old familiar way, and she relaxed--because a dream couldn't hurt
her. Taylor would never hurt her.

He placed a knuckle under her chin and tilted
her face up. His touch was soft and gentle as he slid his fingers
through her hair to cradle her head. She'd forgotten how Taylor
could make her tremble with delight. A well-remembered chill ran up
her spine, but still she held back. The years, if anything, had
taught her caution.

However, he didn't kiss her like she thought
he would. She opened her eyes and found him staring at her in an
odd sort of way, and she felt like a complete fool for being such a
willing participant.

Desire surged through Taylor and just when
the thought of kissing her became overwhelming, he felt her muscles
stiffen beneath his fingers. Before he lost what little pride he
had, he took a step back away from Brenna. Distance. That's what he
needed--distance.

Why couldn't he feel this way with Carol? Why
did his heart have to belong to someone he couldn't trust? Someone
who had destroyed him once. Was Brenna a witch who had cast a spell
over him? Was he to live in eternal damnation for once loving
her?

He ran a hand through his hair. Damn it. He
loved someone else. It was lust that drove him to this insanity.
Lust and wounded pride!

His gaze rested once more on her. “Why,
Brenna?”

“
Why?” she
repeated.

“
Why did you leave
me?”

The anguish in his voice made her shiver. He
had asked the one question Brenna had dreaded ever since she'd
first laid eyes on Taylor in the dining room. The question she
could never honestly answer. Suddenly she was transported back
three years to the cold conference room of Vivian Rothschild's
attorneys. Brenna could shut her eyes and picture the woman dressed
in her soft pink suit. The woman Brenna had hoped one day would
accept her as a daughter. However, that day never came.

“
Answer me, damn it,”
Taylor's voice brought her back from her painful memories. “I have
a right to know.”

“
I--I just had
to.”

“
Had to, hell!” He released
her so abruptly she nearly stumbled. “You could at least have told
me you didn't love me anymore,” his voiced hissed with
anger.

Contempt was written plainly on his face. She
knew she should lie to him, but she couldn't. “I--I never stopped
loving you.”

“
Well, lady, you have a
funny way of showing it.” Taylor grabbed her by the arms and held
her close to him. “Who was he, Brenna? And where is he
now?”

“
I--I don't know what
you're talking about.” Brenna squirmed trying to loosen his painful
grip.

“
Like hell you don't!” he
flung at her. “My own mother saw you sneaking out of town with
another man.”

“
What!” Brenna knew her
eyes grew wide with shock. Of all the low down dirty tricks. His
mother had shut the coffin lid making sure Brenna would never have
another chance with Taylor.

He shook her slightly. “Tell me why, Brenna.
Make me understand,” Taylor pleaded in an anguished voice.

Brenna grew cold inside.

She now understood the hate she'd seen in his
eyes earlier. “Let go of me. You're hurting my arms.” She said very
calmly. But calm was far from what she felt as rage seethed through
her. Immediately, he released her. “Didn't you receive the letter I
sent you?”

Taylor looked at her quizzically. “What
letter?”

“
Never mind. I--It's not
important.” Tears gathered in Brenna's eyes. His mother had
probably intercepted that, too. The woman should be hung. “You
believe what your mother told you?”

“
Of course, I do. Why
should she lie?”

Brenna couldn't tell him the truth, but she
could
deny his mother's lie. She opened her mouth to tell
him what a liar his mother really was, then shut it. If she stayed
any longer she would cry, and her pride wouldn't let her do that.
Besides, all the words in the world wouldn't change what had
happened. Especially when she couldn't tell Taylor the whole
truth.

“
Good night, Taylor.”
Brenna turned and ran from the room.

But Taylor had different ideas.

Chapter Five

Taylor's footsteps echoed behind Brenna, but
she made it to the staircase and swiftly climbed the stairs. When
she reached the top she turned and, through tear-filled eyes, saw
Taylor staring at her from the bottom. She wasted little time
gaining the solitude of her room.

Falling across her bed, she sobbed for hours,
letting the misery flow from her body. She was so stupid. For years
she’d protected herself from the hurt only to open herself back up
for pain again. Why couldn’t she not care at all?

Finally, when all her energy was drained, she
fell into an exhausted sleep, void of pain.

Taylor sat in front of the fireplace, staring
at the flames, yet seeing nothing. Somehow, the fire wasn't as cozy
as it had been and the snow wasn't quite as pretty.

He crossed his feet and propped his chin on
his folded hands. He'd given Brenna every opportunity to deny the
other man. But she hadn't. His common sense told him he should stay
away from her. However, when she was near him, a raging desire took
the place of logic. He wondered if he was a man on the brink of
insanity, or maybe it was because he never had closure with
Brenna.

Shutting his eyes, he recalled their
conversation. She'd asked about a letter he'd never received. His
eyelids flew open as his anger nudged him again. “Son of a bitch!”
He gave a low grunt while he watched the flames. What had she done?
Left him a note saying, “Sorry, sap, I've left with another man.”
Then again, Brenna could be the one lying. Why would his mother
have lied to him? She'd always liked Brenna and was as upset as he
was when she left.

Why hadn't Brenna denied the accusations and
called him a liar? He shifted in his chair. Because they were true,
Taylor quickly reminded himself. Yet, when she turned to leave he
could have sworn there had been tears in her eyes. Could he somehow
be wrong about Brenna?

Taylor stood, picked up the poker and jabbed
at the fire, breaking a log in two and sending a shower of orange
sparks and embers up into the air. The smoke burned his nose and he
backed away.

One thing he was sure of--Brenna had wanted
to kiss him. And his reaction to her produced a surge of emotions
he hadn't felt in a long, long time. So where did that leave him?
With a damned headache, that's where.

He shifted his thoughts to Carol. That's who
he should be thinking about, not a memory from his past. Carol lay
upstairs, asleep in his bed. He sighed. Just when he thought his
life was moving forward, his doubts had surfaced stronger than
before. Carol didn't turn his blood to fire as Brenna did, leaving
him aching when she touched him. Funny, until now he'd never
realized that simple fact. He thought he’d moved on.

Taylor walked over to the window, propped his
shoulder on the wall, and rested his forehead on the cold
windowpane. The irony of it all was he was going to marry
Carol.

He'd sure made a mess of things. But too much
had happened for him and Brenna to have any kind of future ... too
much distrust ... too much love . . . too much time.

Pushing away from the wall, Taylor headed for
the stairs. His future lay with Carol. He would not back out of his
proposal.

Memories were better off in the past.

The next morning, Brenna awoke with a
pounding headache and puffy eyelids. She sat up in bed and let her
half-sleepy eyes adjust to the stabbing sunlight.

All too quickly, last night came flooding
back to her. Why had she been so foolish? She had fallen willingly
into Taylor's arms, shut her eyes and almost begged him to kiss
her. Was she looking for trouble? The only thing her foolishness
had done was to churn up all the emotions she had tried so hard to
destroy.

Why had he acted as if he still cared? For
old-time’s sake? Or because he truly felt something for her? Boy,
how she'd love to have the answer to that question. She did have an
answer she wished she didn't have. Vivian Rothschild had gone to
great lengths to get and keep her out of Taylor's life. His mother
had not only made up a false story, but had evidently gotten hold
of the letter Brenna had left for Taylor.

No wonder Taylor hated her. “But,” Brenna
muttered as she threw back the covers and slid out of bed, “he
shouldn't have believed the worst.” If Taylor had loved her as he'd
claimed, he should have known she'd never do anything so
devious.

Her anger grew as she dressed. She pulled out
a pair of bright red ski pants and coat and laid them across the
bed for later. Sliding a white angora sweater over her head, Brenna
fluffed up her hair. She snatched a pair of beige flannel slacks
and stepped into them.

She double dared Taylor to speak to her this
morning. As far as she was concerned, Mr. Rothschild could go to
hell. She planned to have a good time today if it killed her. She
left her room the same time Carol walked out her door.

“
Good morning,” Brenna
managed to get out. She felt guilty but realized that she did like
Carol.

“
I hope so,” Carol's weary
voice did not go unnoticed as they walked down the
stairs.

“
You're up early,” Brenna
commented.

“
I couldn't sleep. Taylor
suffered a good case of restlessness last night. When he wasn't
tossing and turning, he paced around the room.” Carol sighed.
“Finally, in the wee hours of morning, he said he was going for a
walk. I haven't seen him since. Sometimes I just don't understand
that man. H--he seems so unhappy, and lately I've had my own
doubts, too.”

They reached the bottom of the staircase, and
Brenna had no idea what to say. Somehow she felt responsible for
this mess. Brenna knew she should comfort Carol, but how?

“
I'm sorry,” Carol broke
the silence. “I know you don't want to hear all this. I guess I'm
just tired. A good cup of coffee would sure help.”

As much as Brenna wanted to dislike the
woman, she found she couldn't. As a matter of fact, she felt sorry
for Carol and placed a hand on her arm. “You do sound tired. I'll
find you some coffee. Why don't you go in the living room where you
can enjoy the fire, and I'll bring you a fresh cup of coffee.”

“
Thank you.”

“
Good morning,” Brenna
called to Geraldine when she entered through the well-worn kitchen
doors. “Did you enjoy your sleigh ride home?”

“
Let's just say, I'm glad
Henry Ford invented the automobile. There's a lot to be said for
heat.”

Brenna chuckled as she poured a cup of
coffee. “I'll be right back.”