And not a moment too soon.’
He’d done all he could do these past few days to keep his hands off Lucia stones. It was all well and good to say he wasn’t going to kiss her again, to tell her he was keeping his hands off unless she invited him to do otherwise, of course, to tell himself that he was doing the sane, sensible thing he will, even honorable by keeping their relationship on a completely professional level.
It was something else again to get to sleep at night.
He didn’t want to be sleeping at night. He wanted to be in bed with Lucia doing what God intended men and women to do and enjoying every minute of it.
Instead, he was tossing and turning in his wide empty bed, alone, with visions of the ship tanks and her chasing each other through his brain.
It had been like that every night since she’d been here. It was no wonder his damned head ached so badly.
His head wasn’t the only thing either.
And watching her nibble on a strand of her hair, watching her tip her head, and lick her lips when she was tasting dinner, watching her sashay down the hall wearing that stupid robe that simply accentuated all her curves, didn't make things any better.
He needed relief. He needed out.
So this morning he’d called the doctor and asked for his earliest appointment. The sooner he was free of the cast, the sooner he would be free of a lot of things that nailed him.
Tomorrow, he promised himself.
Less than twenty-four hours and he would be in Scotland, sorting out Brian, taking on Anderson face to face, getting his life back.
Mostly he would be free of his father and Lucia.
*************
Julietta was thrilled at Lucia's suggestion that she take Alex to visit her aunts. ‘‘If you wouldn’t mind,’’ she added hesitantly. ‘‘I know you’re supposed to be with Damon."
"Damon has a doctor’s appointment,’’ Lucia said. ‘‘And he arranged for Thomas to take him."
He’d informed her of that this morning.
"But I…" But she hadn’t finished her sentence. If he didn’t want her accompanying him, he didn’t want her. And that was that. She wasn’t going to beg.
Something in her expression must have said that because Damon grimaced slightly.
‘‘It’s better this way,’’ he’d said.
"So we'll say goodbye now,’’ Lucia replied after a moment.
“Yes.”
Their eyes met. He reached out a hand and took one of hers. It was a touch she’d longed for, but until his fingers wrapped hers, she hadn’t realized just how much. She tried to fight the feeling, but it was useless.
‘‘Bye,’’ she said softly. She flicked a glance up at him, but couldn’t hold it.
"Bye.’’ But he didn’t let her hand go. He squeezed it lightly, his fingers tightening over hers, linking them for just a moment.
Then,
"Lucia?" She blinked and managed to meet his gaze.
He tipped his head, and a corner of his mouth lifted. "How about just one… for the road?’’
She should have said no. Of course, she should have said no.
She didn’t. She couldn’t. One for the road. One to remember him by. One kiss by the real Damon.
She ran her tongue lightly over her lips and gave a quick almost jerky nod of her head. Then she lifted her face, offering her mouth. Bracing herself.
"It won’t hurt,” he whispered as he loosened her hand and brought his' up to cup the back of her neck and hold her.
Then he touched his lips to hers. His kiss was warm and gentle. Tender. It wasn’t at all like the first kiss he’d given her. It was everything like the second.
It taught her as nothing else could exactly which Damon had been kissing her that day. It made her feel alive, eager, and hungry. It spoke of longing and desire and passion.
And she answered with all the longing, desire, and passion of her own. She answered with her heart. And she heard a harsh aching sound come from somewhere deep inside him.
Then he stepped back, breathing heavily, raggedly, and just looked at her.
Lucia looked back.
Then he said roughly, ‘‘Go on.’’ And she went. But she went knowing he was wrong. He had said it wouldn’t hurt.
Taking Alex to visit her aunts was the best thing she could have done. He was all eyes and ears. Bouncing. Talkative. Eager.
She had once thought there was nothing as distracting as a four-year-old when it came to keeping you from thinking about anything else but him.
That was the case with Alex. And a good thing, too.
If she hadn’t had Alex to deal with, she’d have thought too much about Damon. As it was, she had no time.
"Look! A sailboat!’’ He pointed one out on the horizon. ‘‘Do your aunts own a sailboat?’’
"A small one.’’
Alex looked at her with shining eyes. "Can we go sailing? Please, Lucy! Please?’’
At the sight of his eager face, she understood all too well how some parents got sucked into promising more than they could deliver. ‘‘We’ll see.”
Aunt Em and Aunt Freya wouldn’t be up for going sailing. But maybe she could make time after she’d paid the bills and finished talking to the bank manager.
She’d always loved to sail. Uncle Arthur used to call it 'her passion.'
Once upon a time, she’d thought that sailing was all she had a passion for. Before Damon.
Everything she did that day seemed to come back to Damon.
She was almost grateful for the bills to pay, the nagging credit manager to placate, and the books to go over. Except that the rows of figures reminded her of Damon.
And the little boy following her aunts' around and chattering reminded her of Damon. And the sight of the sea reminded her of Damon.
There was no end to her thoughts of Damon.
It was almost a relief to finish the bills and have Alex come into the dining room with a plate of the cookies he and Lucia's aunts had made, begging her, “Can we go sailing now?”
"Yes,” Lucia said. "Let’s go.’’ She could use the exercise. Perhaps it would exorcize the man in her mind. At least she and Damon had never gone sailing.
Damon has a sailboat,’’ Alex told her as he skipped alongside her down to the dock.
"He’s a good sailor. My daddy says so. They used to go sailing when Damon was little.”
That was interesting. He’d never mentioned sailing with his father at all. "Do you sail with your daddy?’’
Alex shook his head. ‘‘Nope. He only goes with Damon, but maybe if I knew something, he’d take me,” he added, brightening just a bit.
So Lucia taught him how to cast off, how to put up the sail. She took him out on the water and, catching a crosswind, pointed the boat toward the house, then put Alex’s hand on the tiller.
“‘Here,’’ she said, ‘‘aim for Aunt Freya on the dock.”
"M-me? aim? Me? sail.’’ His eyes went round and wide as he looked at Lucia. He held the tiller in a death grip.
"You. Easy there,’’ Lucia said. "Yes, like that.’’ She kept her hand near his as they moved quickly toward where Aunt Freya stood, watching.
Alex, his arm almost rigid with his determination to do it right, reminded her of Damon when he was hunched over his figures, trying to get them perfect.
Don’t, she admonished herself. Don’t think about him.
She tried not to. When they got close to the dock, she said, ‘‘Alright. My turn." And she tacked and brought the boat around so they were headed toward the point. “Your turn again.”
Eagerly, Alex took hold once more, and, catching his tongue between his lips, he pointed the boat in the direction she indicated.
This time he relaxed a little, eased up on his grip, and actually breathed a couple of times. The first time she thought he hadn’t!
"Good job,’’ she said. “Wonderful. I think you’re a born sailor, Alex.’’
"Do you?’’ he asked eagerly, and the grin he gave her was Damon when all his figures were perfect.
They didn’t stay out long. Short and sweet, Lucia believed, was the best way to teach anybody anything.
"Leave ‘em wanting more,’’ Aunt Bett had always said. It was clear that Alex still wanted more when she tacked once more and said, ‘‘Enough for now. Back to Aunt Freya”
‘‘Awwww,” Alex moaned. Then, ‘‘I can come again, can’t I?’’ he pleaded.
"Hope so,’’ Lucia said. Though exactly where she would be standing concerning the Walters family after Damon left today remained to be seen.
Maybe, she thought. Mr. Walter would keep her on to help with Alex while Julietta took care of their new baby. Certainly, Julietta’s desire to take care of her own children was admirable, but where was the harm in having a little help?
And if she stayed on to help care for Alex, perhaps she would see Damon.
Ah, Lucia! don’t even think about it.
‘‘Did you see us?’’ Alex asked, almost leaping out of the boat when they reached the dock where Aunt Freya and Aunt Bett waited. “Didya see me sailing?’’
"Indeed, we did. You did very well.’’ Aunt Em hugged him.
“My, yes. You’re a natural sailor, I would say,’’ Aunt Bett concurred.
Alex beamed. ‘‘That’s what Lucia said.’’
‘‘Well, I guess she's right. Now come along and let’s see what kind of sailor you are in the kitchen. You can help me peel potatoes for supper.”
Alex looked at her wide-eyed. "Me?’’
“Of course, dear.’’ Aunt Bett held out a hand to him. "All good sailors peel potatoes.”
Alex went off with them, an aunt on either hand and left Lucia to finish with the boat. She lowered the sail and took it off, then began to fold it, trying not to dream about staying on with Alex, about maybe seeing Damon again.
It would be far better, she knew, if she never saw him again!
"Lucia!"
She jerked and spun around, startled.
‘‘Damon’’ Here?
Indeed he was.
As if her foolish longing had conjured him up, he was limping down the steps toward her. He no longer had a cast on. He no longer used crutches.
But he probably should have, because he was moving so fast and so precariously that he looked as if he might fall over.
Lucia hurried toward him. ‘‘I thought you’d left!’’
A big shocker for her.