Unbreak My Heart (8 page)

He pushed her face against his chest, and Allie felt tears fill her eyes once again, felt the trembling she couldn't control start deep inside. He held on tight, as her shoulders shook and her tears fell unheeded and she struggled to breathe.

"Why don't you let me try to make up for that mistake? Why don't you let me help you now?"

She supposed she'd have to, because she didn't think she could have let him go if her very life depended on it, despite the fact that she simply didn't do this. She didn't cry all over virtual strangers or even what passed for close friends. She didn't let anyone see how the past still ripped her apart inside and sometimes came spewing out of her in a slew of desperate sobs and angry tears.

She'd been desperately lonely for so long, and all of that seemed to catch up with her tonight. Surprisingly, she found that it helped a great deal to not be so alone. If the price she had to pay for this kind of comfort was letting someone inside her life, maybe it would be worth it. With him here, she was no longer afraid. The darkness was like a cloak, curled around them, pushing out the rest of the world. Even the house lost its menacing presence, and for the moment, she thought she'd done the right thing in coming here.

He held on to her long after her tears stopped falling, even when she was thoroughly spent from crying and utterly drained. She lay there curled up against him, feeling every breath he took, feeling so in tune with him.

Something happened then. The comfort he'd so generously offered became something else entirely. His hand tangled in the hair at the back of her neck, and he bent his head down to hers. His soft lips settled against the side of her cheek, where he found what was left of a single tear and kissed it away.

One minute, the kiss was gentle and soothing, and the next it deepened into something more. Something hot and deep and slow that set her pulses to pounding. Something dangerous and enticing and real. It felt so real, despite the fact that it was over almost before it began.

"I'm sorry," he said, tucking her head against his chest. "Megan—"

His voice was raw. Low and strained and barely above a whisper, but the name was unmistakably clear.
Megan?

Allie scrambled to her feet, all the pleasure she'd found in that kiss simply disappearing, overpowered by the feeling that she'd made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

"What did you say?"

"I know who you are, Allie. I was going to say that once, before your sister left, she asked me to watch out for you, and I doubt this was what she had in mind."

"I doubt it was." She wasn't sure she believed him, either. Not about what he was saying now. Maybe not what he'd told her last night. That he and her sister were never more than friends.

"Allie, I never kissed your sister like that."

"Why not?"

"Because I never wanted to."

He got to his feet and came to the edge of the porch where she stood. With him towering over her this way, Allie felt anew the differences between the two of them. He was so much bigger, so much stronger, so much more powerful than she was. But she wasn't afraid of him. Not exactly. She was afraid of the connection between them, the strength of her reaction to him. That so easily, he could hurt her.

He pulled her close and placed one quick, breath-robbing kiss on her lips again.

"God, Allie." He sounded as frustrated and confused as she felt. "This is the last thing either one of us needs right now."

She just stood there staring at him. No one had ever kissed her quite like that. Like he wanted to devour her whole in the next instant. Like he was fighting the impulse even now. Still... he'd called her Megan.

She cleared her throat, tried to find a no-nonsense tone. "I need to know about you and Megan."

"She lived next door. I'd known her my whole life, Allie. We were friends."

"You know something," she insisted. "Something about the reason she ran away."

Allie watched carefully. It happened so fast, she almost missed it. But for a second, the warm, charming man was gone. In his place was Stephen Whittaker, real estate tycoon, all steely determination and rock-hard resolve. She wondered how many other sides of him there were, sides that she hadn't yet seen. She wondered which, if any of them, were real.

"I wish I knew," he said, and just like that, Mr. Kind and Considerate was back.

"No," she insisted. "You
know
something."

"I don't think anyone but Megan knew for sure why she ran away, and as far as I know, she didn't tell anybody."

"You must have heard things...." She tried. "Anything..."

"I heard every rumor in the world about Megan. I couldn't remember half of them, if I tried, and what would be the point anyway? It was nothing but gossip."

"I have to find out," Allie insisted. "I have to know. This was my family, the only one I ever had. It literally fell apart, and I don't even know why. I can't live with all the questions any longer, Stephen."

"Can you live with the answers?" he asked. "You don't know what you're going to find, and I'm sorry, Allie, but it's not going to change a thing. Nothing's going to bring your family back."

"I'll know," she said. "Finally, I'll know."

"And if the truth hurts?"

"I've been hurting for years and too much of a coward to insist on knowing what happened."

"Maybe you were just protecting yourself. Maybe you were being smart and trying not to be hurt anymore."

"No. That's not it," she said. "Are you really going to try to talk me out of this?"

"No, I'm going to try to help you."

"I changed your mind? Just like that?"

He swore softly and shook his head, but he started talking to her again, too.

"Megan never told me she was going to rim away," he said, a touch of steel in his voice. "She never told me why. I don't know what else I can say to you, Allie, except that if you want, I'll ask some questions, see what I can find out."

"I can do it." She was right here, after all. This was the reason she came.

"I know people," he pointed out. "They'll talk to me."

"I'll get them to talk to me."

"All right." He gave in. "Whatever you want."

They stood, too close for comfort, their words a bit too terse, the force of emotion behind them seeming to echo in the sudden silence. She found that it was difficult to be this close to him now. She wanted so much, and yet she was scared. She'd always been so scared. And confused. He confused her terribly.

But there was something in his eyes, his beautiful, dark eyes, that drew her to him, despite everything else. Something that had her swaying on her feet, her body moving almost imperceptibly closer to his and then drawing back again.

So this was it, she thought. For the first time in her life, she began to understand the true power of attraction between a man and a woman. She'd never been so torn, never wanted a man so badly even though she suspected, in the end, he would hurt her.

Stephen reached for her, his hand lingering on her cheek, so softly, so gently, making her think again of his kiss. The first, soft, sweet one, the long, slow, hungry one, the last, hard, fast one.

"You are so like her," he whispered.

There, she thought, pain arching through her. She knew it. He was thinking of Megan. "How?" she said. "How am I like her?"

"You're scared. You're hurting. You're all alone, and it's hard to see you here, feeling the way she felt, and not think of her. And not wish that..."

"What? What do you wish?"

"That everything had turned out differently for her. Allie, if I asked you to go back to Connecticut? To drop this..."

"I can t."

"All right." Obviously unhappy with that, he let his hands fall to his side and stepped away. "I'm not sure where that kiss came from. I should apologize for that, too. I don't make a habit of taking advantage of women that way."

"I'm not Megan," she said, because she hadn't felt taken advantage of in the least, just hurt thinking he was kissing her and remembering her sister. She'd tried for years to take her sister's place with her mother and failed miserably. She certainly wasn't going to do that for a man.

"I know who you are." He took her chin in hand, tilted her face up to his, watching her intently with dark, glittering eyes. "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense for me to find it nearly impossible to stand here beside you and not touch you. When we haven't seen each other for fifteen years and you've been back all of a day. What can I say, Allie? I want to touch you. To kiss you."

"Oh." She sighed, wishing she could just accept that, wishing she could forget that he'd called her Megan, that he might be looking at her and seeing her sister. Most of all, she wished she hadn't felt so much when he touched her.

"Try not to dislike me so much, Allie." His mouth was so close to hers that she felt his breath brush past her cheeks, her lips, before he gave in and kissed her once again, softly, so softly. "Try to trust me. Just a little."

More confused than ever, she promised nothing.

"Are you sure you're all right here?" he asked. "Don't be afraid of me. If anything happens... If you need me, for anything, I'll help you, Allie."

And then he was gone.

She lay on the sofa that night trying not to think about the kisses and remember instead that once more, he really hadn't told her anything about Megan. He'd given her a hint that their feelings might have been stronger than friendship, and Allie thought at one point Megan ended up crying in his arms. But that was it. He seemed to have a gift for seeming so open, like he was telling her his deepest, darkest secrets, which made her want to trust him even more, when he really hadn't told her anything at all.

She would think of Megan, she decided. If she was ever tempted to fall into Stephen Whittaker's arms again, she'd remember how much it hurt to believe he was holding her, kissing her, while thinking of her sister.

It wasn't until later, alone in the darkness, that she remembered what he'd said there at the end.
If anything happens...

Why would he say that?

What did he think was going to happen to her here?

Chapter 4

Stephen was up before dawn, standing on the back porch of his parents' home, sipping his first cup of coffee and staring at the Bennett house. He didn't think he'd ever fumbled a situation quite as badly as the one last night with Allie.

He wasn't supposed to like her. She wasn't supposed to be so damned vulnerable, so absolutely alone, and he hadn't expected to feel so rotten about lying to her. But he did. He never planned to kiss her or to have his hands all over her, either, and he'd certainly done those things, as well.

She just kept surprising him, and he didn't like it. A simple conversation with her was like ripping a vein open, pouring out his heart, something he just didn't do with any woman.

That first night, all he'd intended was to keep her from feeling so alone, but she'd been so surprised by the idea that anyone else might feel the same way. What could he do? He'd told her he did and in the time since then figured out it was likely true. He'd just have to deal with it, after he dealt with her.

A nagging little voice inside told him she'd feel even more alone, more isolated, once she knew the truth about him. And she'd have nowhere to turn.

Everyone she had in the world was gone. He felt like even more of a louse than before.

The phone rang. Stephen picked it up knowing who it was—his father calling from a boat somewhere in the Mediterranean. They wasted no time on preliminaries.

"She's there?" his father demanded.

"Yes."

"You saw her."

"Of course. I told you I would."

"Did you find out what she wants?"

"I'm not sure she knows herself at this point."

His father laughed. "That should make it easier for you to help her come to the right decision."

"And what would that be?" Stephen asked. "The right decision?"

"She doesn't have any business being here."

"She owns a home here now."

"Not for long. Not if we have anything to say about it. And I hope she doesn't intend to do anything but dispose of the house. The mess with her sister is ancient history."

Stephen said nothing. He was finding that the past wasn't so very far away anymore, especially not once he saw Allie.

"You said you'd take care of this for me, Stephen," his father said.

"I will."

He'd offered, actually. He'd deliberately insinuated himself into the midst of this situation, thinking he could handle things just fine. He always handled things.

"The best thing for that little girl would be to go back to where she came from," his father said.

Stephen had told Allie that; his conscience was clear on that point. Nothing would bring Megan Bennett back to life. Once Allie figured that out, he intended to make it easy for her to go.

"Did you make her an offer?" his father asked.

"Not yet. I thought I'd let her come to the decision to sell the house first, then make the offer."