Please go ahead, thanks for the update.

Ak86:
I want to post another story alongside this one and I would like to hear from ur guys, so I can start the other one because that one is a series of 6 books together. I want to also thanks those who are reading and commenting and inviting more people to the story and also those who are reading without a comment bless ur all. Shalom

Please post it meanwhile thanks for updating

I'm so loving this story, well done OP

Pls update....

CHAPTER 14
RICHARD


SHE WAS SPEECHLESS. HER LIPS moved, yet no words came out. Then she did the strangest thing.


She laughed. Huge, loud peals of laughter. She clapped her hand over her mouth, but it didn’t do anything to stem the flow of chortles. Tears ran down her cheeks, and still she laughed.


It was a sound I’d never heard from her, and while I had to admit, her laughter was highly infectious—I wasn’t amused at why she was laughing.


I leaned back, crossing my arms. “I don’t find this a laughing matter, Miss Elliott.”


I thought hearing me refer to her formally would snap her out of her hysteria because that was what it had to be. The only effect it seemed to have on her, though, was she laughed harder.


I slammed my hand on the granite. “Katharine!”


She slumped against the counter, wiping her eyes. She glanced over at me, and it started all over. More gales of laughter.


I shoved off the chair and strode toward her, not certain what I would do when I got there. Shake her? Slap her? I grabbed her arms, and without another thought, crashed my mouth to hers, effectively silencing her lunacy. That strange warmth crept down my spine as I yanked her tight to my body and kissed her. I used every bit of frustration she made me feel to punish her into silence.


Except it didn’t feel like punishment. It felt like pleasure.


Hot, pulsating pleasure.


With a groan, I jerked back, my chest heaving. “Are you finished?” I growled. She gazed up at me, finally silent, then nodded.


“At the risk of starting you off again, Katharine, will you marry me?”


“No.”


I shook her slightly. “You said you would if we had to.”


With a sigh, she surprised me again. She cupped my cheeks, her fingers stroking my skin. “Has anyone ever told you how impetuous you are, my darling?”


“Spontaneity has served me well.”


“I’d call it hot-headed, but you call it whatever lets you sleep at night.”


“Why are you saying no?”


“Richard, think about it. Think it through. If your instinct is right, and Graham is suspicious and you marry me right now, it will make him more so, not less.”


I stared into her blue eyes, her words sinking into my brain. I stepped back, her hands dropping from my face as I realized she was right.


“Well, Bleep.”


“I’m right, you know I am.”


I hated to admit it, but she definitely had a point.


“Yes, you are.”


“I’m sorry, what did you say?” she teased.


“Don’t push your luck.”


She grinned, and it occurred to me, she was no longer frightened of me. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not.


“We are going to readdress this issue, Katharine.”


She pushed off the counter, skirting around me. “Then we’ll talk about it later.” She lifted the magazines, tucking them under her arm. “I have some things to read. I’m going to get some ideas for my room.” She started to walk away, and I held out my hand to stop her leaving. “While you’re at it, call the building super. Something is wrong with my bedroom door.”


She hesitated, eyes wide. “Oh?”


I reached over for an apple from the fruit bowl, rubbing it absently on my shirt. “I never shut it tight, but it’s wide open when I get up in the morning. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. Get it fixed.”


“Oh, I, ah . . .”


I frowned. She was all red—not just her usual pink-cheeked flush either. Her chest and neck were red and the color on her face was almost purple.


“What?”


“Your door isn’t broken,” she burst out, speaking fast.


“How do you know?”


“Because I open it.”


It was my turn to be shocked. “Why would you do that?”


“It’s, ah, quiet here.”


“I don’t understand.”


She edged closer, her fingers playing with the edge of the magazines. “I couldn’t sleep the first night. Where I lived it was always noisy, from sirens, people, cars or something. In here, it was so silent that it was almost frightening. I was going past your door and I heard you—ah, you were snoring.”


I narrowed my eyes. “I have a deviated septum. I don’t snore—it’s a wheeze.”


“If I push open your door, and leave mine ajar, I can hear you, ah, wheeze, and I know I’m not alone. It’s, well, it’s comforting.”


I had no idea how to respond to her bashful confession. I was comforting?


“Well, then, never mind.”


“I won’t do it again.” I waved my hand. “Whatever. I don’t mind.”


She turned and left, and I stared after her retreating figure. She hadn’t told me not to kiss her, although she hadn’t addressed the fact I had either. Instead, she confessed to being nervous and unknowingly I had helped her sleep. She also had pointed out the flaw in my idea of marrying her right away. We had each done the other a favor. We were even.


Still, later that night, after shutting off my light, I opened my door, saving her a trip. God knew how grumpy she’d be if she didn’t have any sleep.

I went through the paperwork carefully the next day. The offer was good. The package was generous. The one thing nagging me was the five-month probationary period. Three months was the norm, and I couldn’t shake the idea there was more to it in this case. I got up, pacing the floor, and ended up staring out the window at the city below me. I liked it here. I liked the fact it was a busy city, yet easy to leave behind for more open spaces. I liked being able to grab a flight with no trouble, and I liked being close to the water. Why, I had no idea, but I did.


A knock interrupted my thoughts, and I turned my head. Katharine was at the door, a cup of coffee in her hands.


“I thought you’d like this.”


I accepted the mug, taking a sip. “Thank you.”


“Did you go through your offer?”


I sat down, indicating she should also. “Yes.”


“You don’t look happy.” “No, it’s fine. It’s a generous base, lots of perks, and bonuses based on productivity, the usual benefits—it’s all there.”


“But?”


“The probation period is bothering me.”


“Because it’s longer than usual?”


“I think . . . I’m not sure he is convinced,” I admitted. “He even said so.”


She sighed. “What do you want to do?”


I gave her a pointed look. “Set a date.”


“You’re certain he’s watching you? Do you think he would hire you if he thought you were playing a game? He doesn’t seem that sort of man.”


“I agree, but my gut is telling me I need—we need—to move forward.” I inhaled deeply. “Name your terms, Katharine. My future is entirely in your hands right now.”


She studied me for a moment. I waited to see what she would say. What huge dollar amount and demands she would lay on the table. I could afford it, but I was still curious.


She retraced a design on the top of my desk, not saying a word. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Just tell me.”


“If I agree to marry you,” she began, “you want at least a year?”


“Yes. Maybe eighteen months.” When her eyes widened, I hastened to add. “Two years, tops.”


“Two years,” she mouthed silently.


“It may not take that long. I’m just throwing it out there.”


“With a minimum of one year?”


“Yes.”


She tossed her hair, a stubborn look crossing her face. “There are things I want.”


I rolled my eyes. “I’m not surprised. You have me right where you want me, Katharine. You know you hold the upper hand right now. Lay it on the table.” “I want to make a few changes here.”


“Changes?”


“To the living area, my room. Add some color, some softness. Make it homier.”


I nodded in agreement. “Fine. Do whatever you want to the place—no fucking pink. I hate pink. What else?”


“A table in the empty space in the kitchen would be nice.”


“Buy one.”


“Can I buy a waffle iron? I always wanted a waffle iron.”


I blinked. She wanted a fucking waffle iron? That was what she wanted?


“Never mind all the little shit. What do you really want to agree to this? A bonus? A house for after we split?”


She frowned. “I told you I wasn’t looking for more money. Your, ah, terms, are fine.”


“You want something. You’re nervous and fidgety. Just say it.” “I want the same thing I wanted before. No cheating.”


I huffed out a large puff of air. I knew what she wanted—my celibacy.


Resting my chin on my fingers, I studied her. She was a contradiction. Every woman I knew would have hit me up for a large sum of money. A house. Jewelry. Easy things for me to give. She wanted something of no monetary value, but a huge sacrifice on my part. I wondered how she felt about me turning the tables.


“I would ask the same of you.”


She raised her chin. “That isn’t an issue.”


“You won’t miss not having sex for two years?”


Color saturated her cheeks; however, she didn’t look away. “You can’t miss what you’ve never had, Richard.”


Shock rendered me speechless. I hadn’t expected her frank confession.


“Ah,” was all I managed to croak out.


“Can you handle that?” she demanded, an edge to her voice. “I can’t abide cheating.”


I stood, then sat down on the edge of my desk in front of her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a nice house instead? Maybe a generous lump payment big enough you never have to worry about working for an ass like me again?”


“No.”


I sighed. “Is there nothing else I can give you as an alternative?”


“No.”


I gave in. I really had no choice. “On two conditions.”


“What?”


“You marry me this weekend after I sign with Graham. I’ll tell him we were so caught up in celebrating, we got married. He’ll buy that.”


“And the second?”


I smirked at her. “We’ll be married, Katharine. Legal. I want to know if you’d be willing to discuss, ah, expanding our boundaries at some point further into our relationship.”


Her eyes grew large. “You said you didn’t want to sleep with me.”


“Two years is a long time for a man like me.”


“You have hands.”


I burst out laughing at her candid remark. “Something for which I’m already grateful. I’m not saying it’s a given. I am asking if it could be discussed”—I winked at her—“should the need arise.”


“You don’t find me attractive. You don’t even like me! Why would you want to sleep with me?”


“I already told you I think I may have misjudged you. I do like you. You make me laugh. As for the attractive part, again, I was wrong. You’re quite pretty when you’re not dressed in rags and sporting an old woman hairstyle.”


She rolled her eyes. “Thanks. Keep up with the sweet words; I may not be able to control myself around you.”


I grinned. “It wouldn’t be all that awful, you know. I’m a good-looking man, I know my way around the bedroom, and I can make sure you enjoy yourself.”


“Wow. Hard to believe I’m the only one you ever convinced to marry you. You make it sound so great, so romantic.”


I chuckled. I did like the way she argued with me at times. “Do you agree to my terms?”


She pursed her lips. “If you agree to mine.”


“Then, Miss Elliott, I guess we’re getting married on Saturday.” “Saturday?”


“We’ll have the license tomorrow; I’ll sign on Friday—the timing is perfect. We’ll go to city hall, say the words, snap a couple pictures, and the deed is done.”


“My dream wedding,” she murmured sarcastically.


I shrugged. “Wear a nice dress. I bought you lots of them.”


“Well, then, with an offer like that, how can I refuse?”


I held out my hand. “A pleasure doing business with you.”


Tentatively, she grasped my outstretched palm. She gasped when I yanked her close, wrapping my arm around her, pressing my lips to her ear. “I guarantee your pleasure, Katharine. Remember that.”


Releasing her, I sat back down at my desk, laughing as she stormed out.


At least the next two years wouldn’t be completely dull.


Given what she had shared . . . they could prove to be interesting.

CHAPTER 15
RICHARD


IT WAS A NIGHT TO celebrate. I had done it. I was a certified employee of The Gavin Group. I met with Graham, signed the offer, and much to his delight, I told him I wanted to stay and get started right away. My office was set up, I officially met my assistant, Amy, and Graham had already placed some folders on my desk. I dove into them with vigor, making preliminary notes, jotting down ideas and thoughts as they came to me.


When he told me there was a small gathering after the office closed, I had texted Katharine to inform her I wouldn’t be home, so I was surprised when I saw her walk in carrying, of all things, a tray of cookies. Looking over at the lavish buffet spread out, I wanted to roll my eyes. She brought homemade cookies to an event like this? And why was she here? I hadn’t asked her to come.


The answer became obvious rather quick. Jenna clapped her hands and hurried over to Katharine.


“You came! And you brought the cookies as I asked! You’re the best!” Jenna then proceeded to hug her, making a huge fuss over the fact my fiancée was present.


Schooling my features, I crossed the room, ever aware their eyes were on me. I wound my arm around Katharine’s waist, drawing her close. I nuzzled her hair as I murmured to her.


“You never told me, sweetheart. If I’d known you were coming, I would have been downstairs waiting for you.” I tightened my arm. “You never even answered my text.” She looked at me, and I could see the apprehension in her eyes. “Jenna insisted I surprise you.”


“I was afraid if you knew she was bringing your favorite cookies, you’d kidnap her and them,” Jenna teased.


I smirked at her impish tone. “I’d share the cookies before I shared her.”


Jenna giggled, and I knew I’d said the right thing. She grabbed Katharine’s arm. “Break it up, you two. Mom wants to see Katy again, and I want to pick her brain about your wedding plans.” She dragged her off. I made a big show of pouting, then went and got another scotch. I did take a couple cookies, though.


That was how the evening unfolded. It felt as though I wasn’t even there. I drifted from group to group, chatted with Graham, Adrian, and Adam, all of whom teased me about trying to talk about work, insisting this was a social occasion. Graham grinned as he clapped me on the shoulder and told me he was thrilled I was so anxious, but Monday would be soon enough. I listened to their plans for the weekend, the way they talked about their wives, and their lives, wondering how anyone could be so attached to another person. It seemed to be the same for every one of them. They all watched their respective spouses with adoration-filled gazes. It made me a little nauseous, but I followed their example, watching Katharine as she walked around the room, talking to people, usually with Jenna or Laura by her side. She seemed to be the star of the show. Everyone wanted to talk to my fiancée. Her cookies were a huge hit, disappearing long before any of the other desserts.


When had she become more important than I was? She was the sidekick. I was the star. I was always the one who commanded the room. How had it changed? I frowned as I thought about it. It had been the same last week. When she was beside me, people spoke to me, engaged me in conversation. When we were separated, they were polite, but distant—there was no small talk or personal observations. Instead, it revolved around business. It was what I knew best. Katharine brought a warmth and ease to the interactions. Somehow, she made me more likable; her softness was doing exactly what I wanted it to do.


It was what I needed, yet somehow, it still angered me. It made me feel as if I needed her.


I didn’t need anyone.


Graham chuckled. “Okay, Richard, quit glowering at the accounting department. They’re only being friendly to your lovely Katy. No need to be shooting daggers in their direction.”


I dropped my gaze. I wasn’t shooting daggers at them. I found myself irritated by Katharine, even though she was doing what I asked. Yet, it also drew the attention away from me, and my ego didn’t like it.


I forced a chuckle. “She draws them like a moth to a flame.”


“She’s delightful. You’re a lucky man, and we’ve kept you apart long enough. Go get your fiancée and have something to eat.”


With a smile I hoped was real, I made my way toward Katharine. She saw me coming, and to her credit, she looked happy to see me. When I held out my hand, she took it and let me tuck her close. I’d had enough to drink; I lowered my mouth to hers, nuzzling her lips, and murmuring against them. “Sweetheart, you’ve been too far away for too long.”


She giggled a little, cupping my face easily. It was obvious, she’d had a few glasses of wine herself, and she felt loose and relaxed in my arms. “I was wondering when you’d make your way over.” “Don’t worry, my lovely, I was watching you.” I buried my face into her neck. I had to admit, she always smelled enticing. It was light and feminine, not overpowering.


And it was true—for some reason, even when I didn’t want it to happen, my gaze drifted to where she was in the room.


Jenna laughed. “The two of you can’t keep your hands off each other.”


I lifted my head. “Can you blame me? I had to hide it so long. It feels good to be able to show my affection.”


Her face creased into a frown. “That must have been difficult.”


Nodding, I pulled Katharine tighter. “You have no idea.”


“Well, I hate to do this to you, but there are other people who want to meet your lady.”


I couldn’t resist. “They don’t want to meet me?” Jenna shook her head. “They know who you are, Richard. And you’re welcome to come along, but Katharine is the star tonight.”


She tugged on Katharine’s hand, and dutifully, but silently, I followed. My mood had gone from irritated to downright pissed off. Jenna had summed it up perfectly.


I signaled for another scotch, ignoring Katharine’s warning look. If she were to be the star, then I’d be at her side.


The adoring fiancé—who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.


She’d hate it.

“Richard!” Katharine warned, moving my hands from her ass again. “People are looking!”


I grinned against the soft skin of her neck. She really did smell good. “Let them look.”


She turned, glaring at me. She leaned up on her toes, and I bent my head down to hear what she had to say. To anyone looking at us we were trading secrets, lovers whispering sweet words to each other. The truth was far different.


“You aren’t paying me enough to let you grope me in public all night,” she hissed into my ear.


I smirked as I yanked her tighter to my side, my arm like a piece of iron around her waist. “I pay you to act like a loving fiancée—so play your part. If I want to grope you, I will.”


“You already got the job. Why are you trying so hard?”


I forced her closer. “I want to keep it—act as if you can’t wait to get me home and Bleep my brains out, and we can leave soon.”


Her head fell back, her eyes startled. Up close, I was amazed to see the rim of gold around her irises, small flecks of sunshine in the blue sea. Her hair was loose again tonight, and I buried my hand in the thick tresses. “You have great hair,” I murmured.


“Wh–what?”


I dropped my face lower. I could sense the stares all around us. “I’m going to kiss you now.”


I didn’t give her a chance to speak. I crashed my mouth to hers, holding her head tight in my hand, kissing her hard. Because I was angry and she was the cause, I deepened the kiss, slipping my tongue inside and stroking hers.


What I didn’t expect, was the burst of intense heat that flared between us—or how her hands slipped up my arms and around my neck, holding me just as tight. Nothing prepared me for the flash of desire, or the desperate wish that we were alone, not surrounded by a group of people watching me kiss my fiancée. Hastily, I drew back, my gaze finding Adrian’s and Jenna’s amused expressions. I shrugged, kissed the end of Katharine’s nose, and stepped back, releasing her from my iron grip. She stumbled and gasped a little, and my arm shot out, holding her upright. I steadied her, looking down with what I hoped was a concerned expression.


“Sweetheart?”


She glanced up, her mouth pink and moist from my tongue, cheeks infused with color and her eyes dazed. At my amused face, she shook off my hold, smoothing back her hair.


“I think we need to go home.”


I winked at her. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”


She glared, and I wanted to laugh. Whether she knew it or not, she had just made certain everyone thought the same thing. My plan had worked.


“Oh, no, you aren’t leaving for another hour.” Jenna shook her head. “It’s not even nine. Mom and I still haven’t finished talking to Katy about the wedding. She won’t commit to anything! I swear she’s hiding something!”


“Fine,” I acquiesced. “You have an hour, then she’s mine. All mine. Understood?”


She muttered something about selfish, impatient bastards, and dragged Katharine off. I watched them go, feeling a little off-kilter myself.


Adrian caught my eye and winked. I returned his with one of my own and went back to the bar.


Scotch was the answer.

I couldn’t drive. I was smart enough to know that. Katharine had taken a cab, so Graham insisted on sending us home in his car, and I didn’t argue. I wasn’t drunk, but I was well on my way.


I’d had far too much scotch. It helped soothe the burn I felt every time I heard Katharine laugh. Saw her smile. Watched as she made—yet another—instant friend.


I didn’t understand why I cared, or why it bothered me. She was charming people. If they liked her, they would give me a chance because no one would believe someone that good and kind could be in love with the bastard my reputation upheld.


Except it did.


All the way home in the car, she was quiet, yet watchful. She made sure I got out of the car without trouble, and wrapped her arm around my waist. When we got inside, she helped me off with my jacket, looking concerned.


“You barely touched anything at the party, Richard. Let me make you a bite to eat.”


“No, I’m fine. I ate a couple of your cookies.”


“That’s not a meal—or even a snack. I’ll make you a sandwich and some coffee. You’ll feel better.”


I waved my hand. “Stop acting as though you care how I feel, or what I need.” I walked over to the bar and grabbed the scotch. “I said I’m fine. I’ll have another drink.”


“That’s not a good idea.”


“Why?”


“Because you’ve had enough. You need to eat something.” She took the bottle from my hand and started to walk toward the kitchen.


Without thinking, I grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “You don’t make decisions for me. If I want to drink, I’ll drink.”


She gasped and released the bottle I was reaching for, shaking her head. “Why are you drinking this much, Richard? You should be pleased! You fooled the Gavins, you got the job, and you screwed over David! Why are you acting like someone pissed on your cornflakes?”


It exploded. Everything I’d been feeling all evening. The annoyance at how easily they accepted her into their family. The frustration that I was the one on the outside. The strange way I reacted when she was close—as if I almost liked it.


I shouldn’t like it. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like her.


“Tell me, Katharine, what do you get out of this? Do you have some twisted sense of martyrdom?”


She stared at me, her eyes wide, the blue orbs glistening in the dim light.


“Do you have some sick sense of thinking you’re better than me? You put up with my shit for a year, and without barely blinking, you agreed to this masquerade.” I stepped closer, my rage boiling to the surface. “You think your sacrifice is going to make me a better man or some sort of shit?” I spat. “You think I’m somehow going to magically fall in love with you and life will be a bed of fucking roses?” I grabbed her arm, shaking her with more force than I knew I should. “Is that what you think?”


Her head shook furiously.


“Then, why did you agree? Why are you doing this for me?”


She remained silent, her teeth chewing away at her cheek so hard I thought she’d draw blood. With a curse, I pushed her away. “Get out of my goddamn sight.”


I blindly grabbed the bottle of scotch, pouring a generous shot into my glass. I threw back the liquor, the burn of it warming my throat and chest. I refilled it and stepped toward the window, gazing out into the dark of Victoria, the lights of the city shining bright in the inky blackness.


Behind me, Katharine hadn’t moved. I was about to tell her to leave again, when she spoke.


“Penny Johnson isn’t my real aunt. I simply call her that so I don’t have to explain our relationship all the time. When I was twelve, my parents were killed in a car crash. I had no other family, so I ended up in the foster system.”


That news surprised me, although I remained quiet. I knew her parents had died, but she had never mentioned foster care.


“Twelve-year-old girls aren’t exactly on the most desired list to be adopted or even fostered, and I went through a few places. The last one wasn’t, ah, very nice.”


Something in her voice made me turn around. She was standing where I left her, her head down, hair covering her face so I couldn’t see anything.


“I ran away. I was on the streets for a while and one day I met Penny Johnson. She was an older woman, very kind, and she took me home, cleaned me up, and for some reason, decided I was going to stay with her. She petitioned the province to become my foster parent. She was everything to me—mother, father, friend, teacher. She didn’t have much, but what she had, we made the best of it. I got a paper route, we’d collect bottles and cans—things to help make money stretch a little more. She had a way of making every job we did like a game, so it didn’t seem as hard. She loved to paint and we’d spend hours in the little room she had set up—she’d paint and I’d read. It was a peaceful life, and for the first time since my parents died, I felt safe—and loved.”


Her fingers ran over the back of the sofa in front of her. Up and down in a restless motion, finally stilling. “I even got to go to university. I had almost perfect grades in high school, and I got a scholarship.”


“You never finished.” I remembered that fact from her pages of notes.


Her voice was quiet and sad when she spoke. “Penny became ill. I lived with her while I went to school and she began acting odd. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Then she fell and broke her hip, and went downhill quickly. She needed constant care. The home where she was placed was awful—she was neglected and unhappy. I fought to have her moved and the next place was just as bad.”


“None of this explains anything.”


She looked up, her eyes narrowing at me. “Stop being so impatient, Richard. I am trying to explain it to you.”


I held up my hands. “Sorry, just want to make sure there was a point here.”


“The point is, I realized she neededmore care. A decent place. I knew I had to leave school, get a job, and provide that for her. A friend of mine told me about a temporary position with Anderson as a PA—the money was good, and if I was careful and found another job right away, I could move Penny into a nicer place. So, I took the job, and it became permanent. One day, Mr. Anderson called me in and offered me the job as your PA—with a pay increase, since you were notoriously hard to work for—being ‘The Dick’ and all.”


“Money talks.”


She shook her head. “Not usually for me. Except the pay increase meant I could move Penny into a private room. The money meant when I went to see her, she was surrounded by her canvases and pictures that were somehow still familiar to her. She was well cared-for and safe. I gave her the same gift she gave to me all those years ago. It didn’t matter how shit my day was—often because of you—since at the end, I got to see the woman who took such good care of me, get the same in return.”


I blinked at her, stunned.


“I didn’t spend money on clothes or fancy shoes because I didn’t have it. As good as it was, all my salary went to pay for Penny’s room. I lived in a tiny, awful place because it’s what I could afford. I shopped at discount stores and second-hand places because that was what I had to do. I made sure I was neat and presentable every day for you. I took all the horrid things you said and did, and ignored them, so I could keep my job, because by doing so, I made sure Penny was safe.


“I agreed to be your fiancée because the money you’re paying me guarantees, until she dies, she will never be afraid or cold or not properly cared-for. I don’t care what you say or do, because your opinion means nothing. This is simply a job to me. As much as I hate it, I have to let you be the ass you are, because sadly, I need you as much as you need me right now.”


She turned to leave but stopped. “Do I hope I can make you a better man and somehow fantasize you’ll fall in love with me? Not once has the thought even crossed my mind, Richard. You need a soul to love—and even an ‘emaciated scarecrow’ such as myself can see you don’t have one.” She drew in a deep breath. “And when this farce is over, I’ll walk away and start again somewhere else. When I no longer have to be subjected to your cruel jibes and uncaring ways, my life will be a much better place.”


With that, she hurried up the stairs, and I was left at a loss for words.

Food is ready come and take a bite

Thanks for d food. Richard hate himself for having a feeling of love towards Katy. Rickaty

Wow! Katy ' s story is so touching but I love the way she put Mr Dick in his place where he rightly belongs

Thanks for the update

Keep it coming

CHAPTER 16
RICHARD


I WOKE UP, CONFUSED. AFTER a moment, I realized I was on the sofa. I sat up, grimacing, holding my aching head. I deserved it, but it still sucked. Cautiously, I raised my eyes, surprised to see a bottle of water and Tylenol on the table in front of me. Reaching for it, I swallowed two pills and drained the bottle. As I stood up, the blanket draped across my torso fell to the floor. I bent to pick it up, when realization dawned in my sluggish brain.


After Katharine had stormed away, I had tossed back more scotch, her words on a constant loop in my head. At some point, I must have passed out, and she had obviously come and covered me up, leaving the drugs and water, knowing I’d be suffering when I awoke.


Despite being even a bigger prick to her than usual, she still looked after me. My legs were shaking as I sat down, recalling the words she had flung at me last night—why she had agreed to help me. Why she scrimped and saved—to look after a woman who took her in and gave her a safe place and a home. I had looked down my nose and belittled her for it, never bothering to ask her for the details. Never really seeing her for the good person she was inside.


A wave of nausea hit me, and I tore upstairs, emptying my stomach of the copious amounts of scotch still lingering. After, I had a shower, and more Tylenol. I kept hearing her words, and the pain behind them. My behavior of the past year played on repeat in my head. My cruel jibes, my harsh words, and my ignorant manner. Despite how I treated her, she had put the needs of someone else first and kept her head up. She did her job, and I had to admit she did it well, with pride, and zero positive input from me.


I studied my face in the mirror, my hand too shaky to lift a razor to the scruff on my chin. For the first time in my life, I felt the heat of shame burn through me, and I dropped my gaze.


I had two choices.


Ignore what happened last night and hope Katharine would continue with our arrangement. I knew if I didn’t bring it up, she wouldn’t either. She would assume I didn’t remember what had occurred.


Or, act like a mature adult and find her, apologize, and try to move forward. In order to do that, I needed to make a concerted effort, and at the very least, understand her. I had no doubt, the wedding was now off the table, but we could still continue as an engaged couple.


I pushed off the counter, ignoring the thumping of my head.


It was time to find out more about my fiancée.

“Richard, I didn’t expect to see you today. Or at least not this early.”


I looked up from my computer screen. “Oh, Graham.” I tugged on my cowlick and ran my hand over my neck nervously. “I had a few things I wanted to get, and, ah, pick up my car.”


He came into my office, sitting down in front of my desk. I folded my hands on the dark wood, trying to stop my fingers from twitching.


“I need to apologize for last night. I drank too much. Trust me, that wasn’t normal behavior for me.”


He laughed, waving his hand. “We’ve all been there, Richard. After everything you’ve gone through and starting with us, then of course, your big day today, I think you deserved to cut loose.”


“I hope I didn’t do anything inappropriate.”


He shook his head. “No, you were fine. I think you drove poor Katy around the bend a little. It was amusing to watch.”


I thought of my conversation with her and grimaced. “She wasn’t happy with me.” Then I frowned as his words sank in. “I’m sorry, Graham, what did you mean by ‘my big day’ when you said that?”


He smirked. “You rather let it out of the bag you were getting married this afternoon, Richard.”


“I–I said that?”


“You did. Katy kept trying to shush you, but you seemed determined to let out the secret.” “No wonder she was ready to kill me. I don’t even remember.”


“I think she’ll forgive you.” He winked. “I’m not certain my wife and Jenna will, however. They wanted to help Katy with the wedding.”


“I’m sorry?” I offered.


“It’s fine. They’re happy with the dinner you agreed to afterward.”


I swallowed. Holy shit. How could I remember the entire conversation with Katharine and not recall a single word of this verbal diarrhea I had with the Gavins? What the hell else had I said?


“Dinner?”


“Katy explained how private you both wanted your actual ceremony. You were so eloquent when you added your thoughts on why you wanted it to be the two of you, it made Laura tear up.”


I blinked at him. I did that? “After they agreed not to crash your day, you agreed to allow us to host a dinner for you tonight.” He ran his hands over his thighs. “Are you sure you don’t want to take the next week off for a honeymoon?”


“Ah, no. We have other plans. Katharine wants to get to work on making my place, ah, our place, a little homier. I’ll take her away once we’re more settled.”


He nodded, stood, and held out his hand. “Congratulations, Richard. I hope today is everything you want it to be.”


I took his hand, shaking it firmly. “Thank you.”


“I think today is the start of a new, great life for you.” He flashed me a smile. “I’m thrilled to be a part of the new direction.”


He walked out, leaving me staring after him.


After last night, I wasn’t sure Katharine would even speak to me today, never mind marry me. She was out when I left, and she hadn’t answered her phone when I tried to call earlier.


I turned back to my computer. I had narrowed down my search, and I was sure I had found the home where Penny Johnson now resided. It was close to my place, private, and from the information I found on the website, expensive. I picked up the phone and dialed the number.


“Golden Oaks.”


“Good morning,” I replied. “I want to bring my fiancée’s aunt some flowers when I visit this morning, and I want to make sure she isn’t allergic to anything. I forgot to check with Katharine before she left.”


“The resident’s name?”


“Penny Johnson.”


“I’m sorry—did you say your fiancée, Katy?”


“Yes.”


“I wasn’t aware Katy was engaged.” I cleared my throat. “It’s a fairly recent development.”


“Well, I’ll have to congratulate her. Penny isn’t allergic to any flowers, but if you really want to get in her good graces, be sure to bring Joey a treat.”


“Joey?”


“Her parrot.”


“Oh, and what does one bring a parrot, if I may ask?”


“Joey’s favorite treat is a mango, but he loves any fresh fruit, or popcorn.”


I felt as though I was in The Twilight Zone. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected to wake up on a Saturday morning with plans to get married to Miss Elliott, after stopping to buy fruit and popcorn for a bird who belonged to a woman I had never met.


“Mangoes and popcorn. Got it.”


“The caregivers like chocolate, Mr., ah . . ?”


“VanRyan. Richard VanRyan. Has Katharine been in today?”


“Not yet. She’ll be along soon, I imagine.”


“Okay. Thank you, ah, Miss . . . ?”


“Tami. My name is Tami. Penny is one of my favorite residents.”


“Good to know. See you soon.”


I hung up. I had some shopping to do.


Along with lots of groveling.

I stopped in the doorway of Penny Johnson’s room, taking in her appearance. She was a small woman, plump, with pure white hair and raisins set into her chubby cheeks for eyes. Those eyes lifted at my knock, regarding me with suspicion. “Can I help you?”


I stepped in, holding out a large bouquet. “Hello, Penny. I’m Richard VanRyan, a friend of Katharine’s.”


“Are you now?” She reached for the flowers. From the corner, a colorful parrot flapped his wings, squawking loudly. “My name is Penelope. I haven’t given you permission to use Penny yet.”


“My apologies, Penelope.”


I winced a little at the noise from the bird, and held out my other purchase. “I brought Joey a treat.”


“What did you bring?”


I dug into the shopping bag. “I brought him a mango. Should I put it in his cage?”


She pursed her lips, looking up at me. “Not the brightest button in the box, are you?”


“Pardon?”


“He can’t eat a whole mango, young man. It needs to be cut.”


I looked at the mango, then at the bird. “Oh.” From the bag, I lifted out a package of microwave popcorn I had grabbed from the cupboard. Katharine ate a lot of popcorn. “I suppose I should have cooked this, too.”


She began to laugh. Loud peals of amusement echoed off the walls. “Katy must like you for your looks because it can’t be for your brains.”


I couldn’t help but grin at her sharp tongue. She reminded me of someone—the woman I once called Nana. In the brief time I had known Nana, she was the one person who cared about me. She was blunt, direct, and had no problem expressing her opinion.


Reaching to her left, she pressed a button on the wall to bring a caregiver to her room. “Tami will put these in water, and cut the mango for poor Joey. If I ask her nicely, she’ll bring us some coffee.”


I fumbled in the bag, and held out some chocolates. At least I got that part right. “Maybe these would help.”


She arched an eyebrow at me. “There may be hope for you yet. Now, sit down, and tell me how you know my Katy—and why you call her Katharine.” She smiled when I produced a second box of chocolates. “If those are for me, then you have my permission to call me Penny.”





Penny Johnson was bright, smart, and as I learned, filled with stories of Katharine as a teenager. However, I discovered, her short-term memories were shaky at best.


More than once, I saw a veil come over her eyes, and she would stumble over her words if I asked something about the present. I would steer her back to a more cohesive time by questioning her about meeting Katharine. She beamed and gave me a longer version of the story than I had heard last night. She described the thin, scared girl she had found rooting in a dumpster for food. She talked about the pain and need she saw in Katharine’s blue eyes, and how she knew she was meant to find her that fateful day. I could feel the love she had for the younger Katharine, and I found I liked hearing about her life.


Penny wavered in her thoughts after that, asking for something to drink. By the time I found Tami, she showed me the kitchen area, and I went back to the room, Penny was dozing in her chair. Her bird was still in the corner, flapping around, and the music she had playing when I arrived was a gentle noise in the room.


Looking around, it was easy to understand why Katharine wanted her here and why she worked so hard to achieve that long-term. Penny’s room was light and airy, with large windows, and filled with easels, boxes of charcoals, pencils, and watercolors. There were books and photographs on the shelves, and many pieces of her work hanging on the walls.


An unaccustomed wave of guilt drifted through me as I remembered the small canvas Katharine had been carrying that first Saturday. I had been my usual caustic self, telling her she couldn’t hang it up in the condo. The wave of guilt and shame became a tsunami, engulfing my brain, its prickly tentacles piercing at my skin. I shifted in my chair, unused to the strange emotions.


“Richard?” Katharine’s shocked voice startled me. “What are you doing here?”


I stood up, more guilt flooding my head. She looked exhausted, and I knew it was because of me. “I came to meet Penny.”


“Why?”


“I felt it was important.”


“I’m surprised to see you up and about.” I cleared my throat, feeling more uncomfortable. “About that—”


She held up her hand. “Not here.”


I approached her in slow steps. “Will you give me the chance to talk to you? I owe you an apology.” I sighed. “Many, I think.”


“I’m not looking for your pity.”


“And you’re not getting it. All I’m asking is the chance for a civilized conversation.”


“Can you be civilized?”


“I want to try. Please, Katharine.”


She pursed her lips. “Does this have anything to do with what is supposed to happen this afternoon?”


“I don’t expect you to still marry me today.”


“You don’t?”


“After my behavior last night, absolutely not.” I sucked in a deep breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “I would appreciate it if you would, but I don’t expect it.”


“You sort of announced it last night. I tried to stop you.” She waved her hand. “You seemed determined.”


“I know. I drank far too much, and my mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. I’ll deal with it.” I ran a hand over my aching temple. “At this point, I’m lucky you’re speaking with me.”


She worried the inside of her cheek, the way she always did when she was nervous. Before she could speak again, Penny stirred and looked up.


“Hello, my Katy.”


Katharine moved past me, dropping a kiss on Penny’s cheek. “How are you today?”


Penny reached up and tweaked her nose. “I’m fine.” She jerked her chin in my direction. “Why haven’t I heard about this one until today?” Katharine smiled and shook her head. “I think I did say something.”


“Not overly smart, but he’s easy on the eyes—and he has good taste in chocolates and flowers.”


I chuckled at the shocked look on Katharine’s face. I was grateful Penny was still with us and lucid. Tami told me she drifted in and out, often confused and lost when she woke up from a nap. I didn’t want to think I had been the one to see her lucid today and rob Katharine of her chance. I wasn’t sure I could take any more guilt.


I picked up my coat. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.”


I bent down, lifting Penny’s hand and kissing the back of it, her veins like blue spider webs blooming under the thin, powdery skin. “Penny, it was an honor.”


“If you bring more chocolates, you can come back.”


“I’ll be sure to do that.” I rested her hand back onto her lap. “Katharine, may I speak to you for a moment?”


We stepped into the hall.


“Did you drive?” I asked, thinking I would wait for her if she had walked.


“Yes.”


I glanced down at her hand. “Where is your ring?”


“I don’t wear it when I come here. It would confuse Penny. It’s safe in my purse.”


That made sense. I was relieved she didn’t tell me it was because the entire deal was off.


“Okay. Good. I’ll see you later at the condo?”


She hesitated, remaining silent.


“What?”


“If I . . . if I agreed to marry you today, would you give me something? Think of it as a wedding gift.” “What do you want?”


“I want to know your story. Your childhood.”


“I don’t talk about my past.” The conviction in my voice said it wasn’t up for discussion.


She drew herself to her full height, holding her shoulders rigid. “Then go marry yourself, VanRyan. I’ll see you at the condo later.”


I caught her arm before she could leave. “Katharine,” I began wearily.


Our eyes met. I saw her determination.


“All right. Marry me today, and I’ll tell you.”


“You promise me?”


“Yes.”


“I want you to wear a ring.”


“Fine,” I huffed. “Nothing fancy.”


“You can go pick it out yourself.”“Anything else you want as a gift?” My voice laced with snark.


“No, your story and a ring.”


“I’ll go get one now.”


“Then I’ll marry you today.”


I was momentarily stunned. I had expected screaming, accusations, and arguments. Maybe even tears and her telling me to go Bleep myself, for real this time. Her agreement surprised me.


“Thank you. Three o’clock?”


“I’ll meet you at home.” She turned and went back into Penny’s room, leaving me staring after her, dumbfounded.


When had Miss Elliott become such a force to be reckoned with?


I had no idea, but for the first time, I felt grateful she was on my side.

CHAPTER 17
RICHARD


I WAITED IN THE KITCHEN, pacing and fidgeting with my tie. Damn thing wouldn’t lay flat no matter what I did, as if I had forgotten how to tie a proper Windsor knot. It wasn’t as though I was nervous. I had nothing to be nervous about—Katharine and I were simply going to say a few words, sign a piece of paper, and be done with the formality of marriage. It was another layer in my plans. Simple. It meant nothing.


I yanked at the silk again. Why wouldn’t this fucking tie lay flat?


“Keep pulling it like that and there won’t be any material left, Richard. What did that tie ever do to you?”


I glanced up, startled. Katharine stood inthe doorway, looking equally as nervous, however, much prettier. “Whoa!”


She was wearing a simple off-white dress that hugged her narrow waist and exploded in a froth of material at her knees. The top was lacy and showed off her slender neck and arms. Her hair was pinned back, hanging to one side in a cascade of curls. The champagne hue of her dress accented her coloring. I looked down, grinning at her shoes—small with a tiny heel, they were perfect. I had gotten used to the way she fit under my arm, and now, I didn’t want her any taller.


I approached her, lifting her hand, kissing it. “You look lovely.”


She lowered her eyes, then straightened her shoulders. “Thank you.”


“No. Thank you.”


“For?”


“Where would you like me to start? For agreeing to this arrangement in the first place. For sticking to your word, even though you had every right to tell me to go to hell.” Reaching over, I twisted a long curl around my finger, rubbing the soft strands of her hair, releasing it, letting it curl back into place. “For being a better person than I am,” I added with complete honesty.


Her eyes were bright. “That’s the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”


“I know. I haven’t tried very hard not to be such an asshole, have I?” I met her gaze, refusing to look away. “I’ll try harder.”


She worked away at the inside of her cheek furiously.


“Hey. Enough.” I chuckled, drawing my finger down her cheek. “No blood on our wedding day.”


The corners of her lips curled into a smile. I bent over and picked up the small gift I had gotten for her, holding out the bouquet of flowers.


“For you.” “Richard!”


“I thought you would like them,” I said, feeling self-conscious.


She buried her nose in the small bouquet. “I love them.” She frowned. “What about you?”


“I’m not carrying a bouquet.” I smirked, wanting to lighten the serious tone we had taken.


She shook her head with a grin, and went over to the drawer, rummaging around. She picked through her bouquet and snipped one of the roses, then carefully pinned it to my lapel. Her small fingers twisted, and smoothed my tie into place. She patted the material, looking pleased. “There. Now you’re ready.”


“Are you ready?” I asked, almost fearful of her answer.


“Yes.”


I crooked my arm. “Let’s get married.” It was a simple ceremony. Solely the two of us, with witnesses neither of us knew. Words were spoken, short vows exchanged, and we were pronounced husband and wife. I slipped a slim band on with her diamond, and as she requested, I allowed her to put an unassuming platinum band onto my finger. I stared down at my hand, flexing my fingers, and tightening my fist, the cold metal touch alien on my skin. Katharine watched me, and I grinned at her. “Marked as taken now, so I guess it’s official.”


The Justice of the Peace chuckled. “It is once you kiss your bride.”


I lowered my head, our gazes locking. I brushed my mouth over hers, wrapping my hand around her neck, drawing her tight to me and kissing her deeply. It was my right, after all—she was my wife. When I drew back, she opened her eyes, and I was startled at the honest gentleness of her gaze. Her smile was a genuine one and I returned it fully, dropping another swift kiss on her full lips.


“We’re married, Richard.”


I wasn’t sure why those words pleased me, yet they did.


“We are. Now, we have to go have dinner with the Gavin family. What are the chances they’re keeping it low-key?”


“Slim to none—but you were the one who agreed to it.”


“I know. Don’t remind me. Let’s sign the papers and go face the music.”


“Okay.”

We pulled up in front of the house. I shifted into park and glanced around with a sigh of relief. “No extra cars.”


“Thank goodness.”


I looked over at Miss Elliott.


Katharine.


Mrs. VanRyan.


My wife.


Holy shit. I was married.


“Richard? What is it? You’ve gone pale.”


I shook my head. “Thank you. I mean it, Katharine. I really do.”


“I know.”


“I don’t suppose I could—”


“No.”


“You don’t know what I was going to say.”


“You were trying to get me to forget about hearing the story of your childhood.”


“It’s the usual parental BS, Katharine. Why dredge it up?” “I feel it’s important.”


I dropped my head in my hands with a groan at the way she used my own words back at me.


“Please, Richard.”


“Fine.” I huffed. “Later.”


“I’ll wait.”


“All right. Let’s get this shit over with.”


She rolled her eyes with a huff of impatience. “Well, that effort lasted all of three minutes.”


I gripped the back of my neck. “This is not an easy subject for me.”


“I’m gathering that, but we’re not talking about it at the moment. Right now, your new boss and his family are having a celebration dinner for us. Get your head out of your ass, smile, and act like you fucking adore me,” she insisted, once again throwing back my words at me.


With those words, she got out of the car and bent down.


“Are you coming?”


Stunned, I could only nod.





It was probably as toned-down as the Gavins could handle. The back deck was set up with an extravagant table, with tulle and small lights wrapped around the area, flowers and candles flickering in the light breeze. In the corner, there was another small table with a wedding cake. Katharine’s eyes were huge when she looked at me. “How did they do this in a day?”


“The benefit of money and connections,” I muttered. I had to admit, I was impressed.


Our hosts beamed at us when we arrived, Laura wrapping Katharine up in a tight hug. Graham clapped me on the shoulder, congratulating me, and I suffered through the hugs and handshakes from the rest of the family. They were certainly a touchy bunch. I stepped back, grabbing Katharine’s hand like a talisman. Maybe if I touched her, they’d all stop hugging me.


Dinner was extravagant, the champagne was plentiful, but this time, I kept my head. I only sipped at the wine, and consumed water most of the evening. There might not have been any pictures at the ceremony, but Jenna and Laura made up for it with their phones, constantly snapping pictures and calling out for kisses. Luckily, Katharine had drunk enough this time, she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she tilted up her face eagerly, smiling and accepting my caresses. Copying the other couples at the table, I kept my arm around her most of the time, running my fingers over her exposed skin. On occasion, I would turn and drop a kiss to the softness of her shoulder or neck and whisper some inane comment into her ear, making her smile or laugh. We were the picture of a happy couple in love.


Jenna turned to her at one point. “Oh, Katy! I almost forgot. I teach yoga classes and a new one starts next week! Please come! You’ll love it.”


Julia nodded. “Adam looks after the kids. I go to all the classes—even the beginners—I love it so much. Jenna is an amazing teacher.”


Katharine’s eyes flared with interest. “Oh, I’d like that! I’ve always wanted to try it. When?”


“Tuesday nights—it’s an eight week course for beginners. There’s a break, then we move onto the next level.”


The light in her eyes dimmed. “I can’t—Tuesday is music night at the home. Local groups come in and entertain the residents. I take Penny to all of them; she loves going. I would hate not to be with her; she might not go without me.”

board while I was there. This week was jazz night. I loved jazz music. The fact going to yoga was something Katharine wanted, made me want to give it to her, so I spoke up. “I’ll go with her.”


“What?”


“You go to the class. You’ve been saying you wanted to try yoga. I’ll go have dinner with Penny and take her to the lounge.” I nudged her carefully. “You know I love jazz music.” I winked, teasing her. “Maybe it will help you with your balance.”


“It’s great for that!” Jenna enthused.


“It’s every Tuesday,” Katharine pointed out.


“That’s fine.” I liked all types of music, except heavy metal, and I doubted that genre would be included in the lineups. “I guess Penny and I have a date every Tuesday for a while.”

“Yes,” I murmured back. “I’d like to spend some more time with Penny.” I met her eyes. “Honestly.”


She kissed my cheek. “Thank you,” she breathed in my ear.


Turning, I caught her mouth. “You’re welcome.”


I sat back with a sigh. I was pleased I could do something for her. I saw Graham looking at me, nodding his approval. I looked down, almost flustered over his silent support.


What an odd, emotional day.


After dinner, Laura had us move the table off to one side, freeing up the space, insisting we needed to dance. Grateful we had practiced, I held out my hand, grinning at Katharine.


“Ready to dance with your husband?”


Her smile was shy, but real, as she slipped her hand into mine. “I am, my darling. Just don’t use all your energy on the dance floor.”


I winked. “Don’t worry about that, sweetheart.”


I twirled her onto the dance floor amid the laughter. She nestled into me as we moved to the music. Once again, it struck me how well she fit to me—the way her head was the perfect height to tuck under my chin. I could smell her soft scent, and enjoyed the silk of her hair on my skin. I beamed as we spun around, our steps in sync.


I had chosen the perfect fake wife.

There were more hugs, well wishes, and catcalls when we left. We were both quiet in the car. I kept glancing over at Katharine.


“Are you all right?” “Hmmm.”


“Is your head okay?”


Leaning against the headrest, she nodded. “I’m fine. It was a nice day.”


“Okay for a shotgun wedding to an asshole?”


“Ranks right up in my top ten.”


I chuckled. Her humorous side came out more every day. I liked it.


“How much older is Adam than Jenna?”


“Ten years, I think. She told me she was a bit of a surprise.”


“The baby of the family.”


“The spitfire, I think. Adam is far more sedate.”


“Like Graham,” she mused. “I like them all. They’re a wonderful group.”


“They like you.”


“I’m trying not to feel guilty,” she admitted. “They are being so kind.” “No one is going to get hurt here, Katharine. I’m going to do my best for Graham. He’ll get someone as committed as any of his family is to making sure his company thrives.”


“Still, after . . .”


“Let’s worry about that later. It’s months away—longer. Don’t dwell on it.”


She was quiet for a moment.


“Thank you for offering to spend time with Penny.”


I shrugged. I was grateful she had let it go. “As I said, I liked her. I need to know her more. As your husband, I should. It would only be natural.”


She hummed in agreement. “I think you convinced them. Even Graham,” she added. “He was watching us, and I think he liked what he saw.”


“I agree. Thank you. Another excellent job, Miss Elliott.” “That’s Mrs. VanRyan, thank you.”


An odd ripple went through my chest at her words.


“I stand corrected. Mrs. VanRyan.”


She turned her face, looking out the window.


“And it wasn’t only a job,” she whispered so low, I almost missed it.


I had no reply to her statement. For some reason, though, I found her hand in the darkness and squeezed it.


It stayed clasped with hers all the way home.





She fell asleep before we arrived at our building. I knew she was exhausted after last night, and the events of the day, so I decided to let her sleep. I eased open the door, lifting her out and carrying her up to the condo. She was small in my arms, with her head resting on my shoulder. I found myself unable to look away from her as the elevator whisked us upward. Once in her room, I laid her on the bed, unsure what to do about her dress. She roused a little, and with my encouragement, we managed to get the dress over her head, then she fell back, already asleep.


I crouched beside the bed, taking in her sleeping form. Lace that matched her dress, covered her breasts, a triangle of the same silk hid her untouched sex from my eyes. Although I had always thought she wasn’t my type, to my surprise, I found the delicate curves and dips of her body sexy. Carefully, I traced a finger over her collarbone, down her chest, across her stomach. Her skin was like satin under my touch. She shivered in her sleep, curling up on her side, mumbling something incoherent. She bent and curled her toes, resuming her sleep. I pushed back the dark curls of her hair, and studied her face. The face I had called plain. It was anything but plain. Her cheekbones were too prominent and she was still too thin, yet I knew now she was in a safe place, able to eat properly, and have fewer worries, all of her would fill out more. The weariness would be erased from under her eyes and the quiet, honest beauty others saw, and I had finally discovered, would shine through.


I shook my head at the weird thoughts I was having regarding Katharine. Today had been filled with emotions I rarely, if ever, felt. I knew, without a doubt, it was because of the woman in front of me. Still, I didn’t understand why.


My body stirred at the sight of her, and a fresh wave of shame hit me. I shouldn’t be ogling her while she slept, no matter how appealing she looked in her half-naked state. Hastily, I dragged up her duvet to her chin and switched off the light. I left her door open and retired to my own room, getting ready for the night of restless sleep. Her giving into the exhaustion she felt in the car was only a brief reprieve. I knew in the morning she would ask for her story. I also knew I would give it to her, because the bottom line was, I owed her.


After I showered, I looked in the mirror at my reflection. The outside shell envied by many. The one that covered up the empty, lost person inside. I had ignored and buried him for many years, and now Katharine was going to bring him to the surface.


I shuddered, dropping my towel on the floor. I dreaded the conversation.


Crossing the room, I opened my door wide, even though I knew there would be no comforting wheezes for her tonight.


I slid into bed, a strange yearning drifting through my head.


Wishing she were lying there, waiting for me.

I'm so loving this

Thanks for the update

Thanks for d update

am I the only one who didn't want thus to stop now? Thanks and more

This is incredible and touchy
Sweet popcorn for u Op

favch:
seems I'll pitch my tent here hope the ride will be smooth adesina12 pinkfeet isod ann2012 Queenite come n check out this thread

my plane just land .
were is my seat

CHAPTER 18
RICHARD


I WAS SITTING AT THE counter, nursing my third cup of coffee when she came downstairs Sunday morning. She fixed herself a mug—I still hadn’t attempted to use the coffee maker that had appeared one day last week, so she had to make do. I could sense her stolen glances as she waited for the Keurig to perform its magic.


“What?” I sighed.


“I fell asleep.”


“You were exhausted.”


“I woke up in my bed. With my dress off.”


I arched my eyebrow at her. “It is customary for a husband to carry his wife over the threshold and remove her wedding dress the night they are married, I believe.”


Deep crimson flashed across the top of her cheeks, highlighting the delicate bones.


I grinned and shook my head. “You helped me, Katharine. You fell back asleep; I covered you up and left the room. I thought you might be uncomfortable otherwise.”


“Oh.”


She sat beside me, and sipped her coffee before noticing the wrapped package on the counter. “What is that?”


I pushed the box toward her.


“A present.”


“For me?”


“Yes.”


I discovered she was a ripper—no gentle peeling back of tape and carefully removing the paper. She grabbed at the corner and tore it off with the glee of a child on Christmas morning. It brought a small smile to my face. She stared down at the box.


“What?” I smirked at her confusion.


“It’s a waffle iron.”


“You said you wanted one so I got it for you. Like a wedding gift.” I chuckled. “I couldn’t fit a table into a gift bag. I guess you’ll have to pick one out yourself.”


She lifted her gaze to mine. “The gift I wanted costs no more than a small piece of your time.”


She was wrong on that. I knew what she wanted, what I had promised in order to get her to marry me.


“You won’t let this go, will you?”


“No. You know my story. I want to know yours.” She lifted her stubborn chin, the cleft standing out. “You promised.”


My coffee mug hit the granite with a little too much force. “Fine.” I slid off the stool, tense and agitated. I stomped over to the window, looking at the city, the figures small and distant—much the way I wanted these memories to be.


Yet, Katharine wanted them brought into the open.


“My father was a playboy. Rich, spoiled, and a real bastard.” I barked out a laugh, turning to look at her with an intense glare. “Like father, like son.”


Katharine moved to the sofa, sat down, remaining silent. I turned back to the window, not wanting to make much eye contact.


“He played hard, traveled a lot, basically did what he wanted, until my grandfather called him on it. He told him to grow up and threatened to cut him off financially.”


“Oh dear,” she murmured.


“He and my mother married a short time later.” “Well, your grandfather must have been pleased.”


“Not pleased enough. Not much else changed. Now they partied together, still traveling, spending lots of money.” I moved and sat across from her on the ottoman. “He was furious, and gave them an ultimatum: unless he had a grandchild to bounce on his knee within a year, he was pulling the plug on both of them. He also threatened to change his will, cutting out my father completely.”


“Your grandfather sounds a little bossy.”


“I come by it honestly.”


She rolled her eyes, and indicated I should continue.


“So, I was born.”


“Obviously.”


I met her gaze. “I wasn’t born out of love, Katharine. I was born out of greed. I wasn’t wanted. I was never wanted.” “Your parents didn’t love you?”


“No.”


“Richard—”


I held up my hand. “My entire childhood, my entire life, I heard about what an inconvenience I was—to both of them. How they had me to make sure the money kept coming. I was raised by nannies, tutors, and as soon as I was old enough, shipped off to boarding school.”


She began to worry the inside of her cheek, not saying a word.


“All my life I was taught the one person you could rely on was yourself. Even when I went home during school breaks, I wasn’t welcome.”


Bending forward, I gripped my knees. “I tried. I tried so hard to get them to love me. I was obedient. I excelled at school. I did everything I could do to make them notice me. I got nothing. The gifts I made at school for Mother’s and Father’s Day were discarded. My drawings were trashed. I can’t remember goodnight hugs or kisses, or having a parent read me a bedtime story. There was no sympathy for scraped knees or bad days. My birthday was marked with an envelope of cash. Christmas was much the same.”


A tear slipped down her cheek, the sight of it startling me.


“I learned very early in life, love was an emotion that didn’t interest me. It made me weak. So I stopped trying.”


“There was no one?” she whispered.


“Only one. A caregiver when I was about six. Her name was Nancy, but I called her Nana. She was older, kind, and she was different with me. She would read to me, talk, play, listen to my childish nattering. She told me she loved me. She stood up to my parents, and tried to get them to pay more attention to me. She lasted longer than some, which is why my memory of her is sharper than others. She left, though; they all did.” I exhaled hard. “I think my parents thought she was spoiling me, so they dismissed her. I heard her arguing with my mother about how isolated they kept me and I deserved more. I woke up a couple days later to a new nanny.”


“Is she the one Penny reminds you of?”


“Yes.”


“And since then?”


“No one.”


“You weren’t close to your grandfather, either? He was the one who seemed to want you the most.”


I shook my head. “He wanted me to continue the VanRyan line. I rarely saw him.”


Her brow furrowed, but she remained silent.


I stood, pacing around the room, my stomach in knots as I allowed myself to remember. “Eventually, my parents could barely tolerate each other, let alone me. My grandfather died, and they separated. I was sent back and forth between them for years.” I gripped the back of my neck as the pain in my chest threatened to overwhelm me. “Neither of them wanted me. I went from place to place, only to be ignored. My mother flitted around, traveling and socializing. There were many times I would wake up to a stranger there to babysit, while she went on her merry way. My father went from woman to woman; I never knew who I’d run into in the hall or the kitchen.” I grimaced. “I was actually grateful when they sent me away to school. At least there I could forget.”


“Could you?”


I nodded. “I learned early in life to compartmentalize. I meant nothing to them. They told me often enough, showed it in their neglect.” I huffed out a huge gust of air. “I had no feelings for them, either. They were the people who paid for things I needed. Our contact was almost always limited to a discussion of money.”


“That’s terrible.”


“It’s the way it was, all my life.”


“Neither of them remarried?” she asked after a few beats of silence.


I laughed; the sound was bitter and harsh. “My grandfather had put a stipulation in his will: if they divorced, my father was locked into an allowance. My mother couldn’t touch the money, so they stayed legally married. My father didn’t care; he had plenty of resources. He bleeped around when they were married, and he continued when they separated. They settled on a monthly figure, and she lived life the way she wanted and he did, too. A win-win situation.”


“And you were lost in the shuffle.”


“Katharine, I was never in the shuffle. I was the discarded Joker in the deck.

CHAPTER 18
RICHARD


I WAS SITTING AT THE counter, nursing my third cup of coffee when she came downstairs Sunday morning. She fixed herself a mug—I still hadn’t attempted to use the coffee maker that had appeared one day last week, so she had to make do. I could sense her stolen glances as she waited for the Keurig to perform its magic.


“What?” I sighed.


“I fell asleep.”


“You were exhausted.”


“I woke up in my bed. With my dress off.”


I arched my eyebrow at her. “It is customary for a husband to carry his wife over the threshold and remove her wedding dress the night they are married, I believe.”


Deep crimson flashed across the top of her cheeks, highlighting the delicate bones.


I grinned and shook my head. “You helped me, Katharine. You fell back asleep; I covered you up and left the room. I thought you might be uncomfortable otherwise.”


“Oh.”


She sat beside me, and sipped her coffee before noticing the wrapped package on the counter. “What is that?”


I pushed the box toward her.


“A present.”


“For me?”


“Yes.”


I discovered she was a ripper—no gentle peeling back of tape and carefully removing the paper. She grabbed at the corner and tore it off with the glee of a child on Christmas morning. It brought a small smile to my face. She stared down at the box.


“What?” I smirked at her confusion.


“It’s a waffle iron.”


“You said you wanted one so I got it for you. Like a wedding gift.” I chuckled. “I couldn’t fit a table into a gift bag. I guess you’ll have to pick one out yourself.”


She lifted her gaze to mine. “The gift I wanted costs no more than a small piece of your time.”


She was wrong on that. I knew what she wanted, what I had promised in order to get her to marry me.


“You won’t let this go, will you?”


“No. You know my story. I want to know yours.” She lifted her stubborn chin, the cleft standing out. “You promised.”


My coffee mug hit the granite with a little too much force. “Fine.” I slid off the stool, tense and agitated. I stomped over to the window, looking at the city, the figures small and distant—much the way I wanted these memories to be.


Yet, Katharine wanted them brought into the open.


“My father was a playboy. Rich, spoiled, and a real bastard.” I barked out a laugh, turning to look at her with an intense glare. “Like father, like son.”


Katharine moved to the sofa, sat down, remaining silent. I turned back to the window, not wanting to make much eye contact.


“He played hard, traveled a lot, basically did what he wanted, until my grandfather called him on it. He told him to grow up and threatened to cut him off financially.”


“Oh dear,” she murmured.


“He and my mother married a short time later.” “Well, your grandfather must have been pleased.”


“Not pleased enough. Not much else changed. Now they partied together, still traveling, spending lots of money.” I moved and sat across from her on the ottoman. “He was furious, and gave them an ultimatum: unless he had a grandchild to bounce on his knee within a year, he was pulling the plug on both of them. He also threatened to change his will, cutting out my father completely.”


“Your grandfather sounds a little bossy.”


“I come by it honestly.”


She rolled her eyes, and indicated I should continue.


“So, I was born.”


“Obviously.”


I met her gaze. “I wasn’t born out of love, Katharine. I was born out of greed. I wasn’t wanted. I was never wanted.” “Your parents didn’t love you?”


“No.”


“Richard—”


I held up my hand. “My entire childhood, my entire life, I heard about what an inconvenience I was—to both of them. How they had me to make sure the money kept coming. I was raised by nannies, tutors, and as soon as I was old enough, shipped off to boarding school.”


She began to worry the inside of her cheek, not saying a word.


“All my life I was taught the one person you could rely on was yourself. Even when I went home during school breaks, I wasn’t welcome.”


Bending forward, I gripped my knees. “I tried. I tried so hard to get them to love me. I was obedient. I excelled at school. I did everything I could do to make them notice me. I got nothing. The gifts I made at school for Mother’s and Father’s Day were discarded. My drawings were trashed. I can’t remember goodnight hugs or kisses, or having a parent read me a bedtime story. There was no sympathy for scraped knees or bad days. My birthday was marked with an envelope of cash. Christmas was much the same.”


A tear slipped down her cheek, the sight of it startling me.


“I learned very early in life, love was an emotion that didn’t interest me. It made me weak. So I stopped trying.”


“There was no one?” she whispered.


“Only one. A caregiver when I was about six. Her name was Nancy, but I called her Nana. She was older, kind, and she was different with me. She would read to me, talk, play, listen to my childish nattering. She told me she loved me. She stood up to my parents, and tried to get them to pay more attention to me. She lasted longer than some, which is why my memory of her is sharper than others. She left, though; they all did.” I exhaled hard. “I think my parents thought she was spoiling me, so they dismissed her. I heard her arguing with my mother about how isolated they kept me and I deserved more. I woke up a couple days later to a new nanny.”


“Is she the one Penny reminds you of?”


“Yes.”


“And since then?”


“No one.”


“You weren’t close to your grandfather, either? He was the one who seemed to want you the most.”


I shook my head. “He wanted me to continue the VanRyan line. I rarely saw him.”


Her brow furrowed, but she remained silent.


I stood, pacing around the room, my stomach in knots as I allowed myself to remember. “Eventually, my parents could barely tolerate each other, let alone me. My grandfather died, and they separated. I was sent back and forth between them for years.” I gripped the back of my neck as the pain in my chest threatened to overwhelm me. “Neither of them wanted me. I went from place to place, only to be ignored. My mother flitted around, traveling and socializing. There were many times I would wake up to a stranger there to babysit, while she went on her merry way. My father went from woman to woman; I never knew who I’d run into in the hall or the kitchen.” I grimaced. “I was actually grateful when they sent me away to school. At least there I could forget.”


“Could you?”


I nodded. “I learned early in life to compartmentalize. I meant nothing to them. They told me often enough, showed it in their neglect.” I huffed out a huge gust of air. “I had no feelings for them, either. They were the people who paid for things I needed. Our contact was almost always limited to a discussion of money.”


“That’s terrible.”


“It’s the way it was, all my life.”


“Neither of them remarried?” she asked after a few beats of silence.

I laughed; the sound was bitter and harsh. “My grandfather had put a stipulation in his will: if they divorced, my father was locked into an allowance. My mother couldn’t touch the money, so they stayed legally married. My father didn’t care; he had plenty of resources. He bleeped around when they were married, and he continued when they separated. They settled on a monthly figure, and she lived life the way she wanted and he did, too. A win-win situation.”


“And you were lost in the shuffle.”


“Katharine, I was never in the shuffle. I was the discarded Joker in the deck. However, in the end, it didn’t matter.”


“Why?”


“When I was almost eighteen, my parents were at a function together. I forget what it was—some society thing. They were big on those. For some reason, they left together, I suppose he was taking her home, and a drunk driver hit them head-on. Both of them were killed instantly.”


“Were you sad?”


“No.”


“You must have felt something?”


“The one thing I felt was relief. I didn’t have to go places I wasn’t wanted, but sent to for appearance sake. More importantly, though, I didn’t have to pretend to care about two people who never gave a shit about me.”


She made a strange noise low in her throat, bowing her head for a moment. Her reaction struck me as odd. She seemed so upset.


“Since they were still legally married, and their wills had never changed, I inherited it all,” I continued. “Every last dime, which is rather ironic, considering the only time they did anything good for me was by dying.”


“Is that how you afford your lifestyle?”


“Not really. I rarely dip into my holdings. I used it for important things, like to buy this place and to pay for my education. I never wanted the life my parents had—frivolous and wasteful. I enjoy working and knowing I can survive on my own. I am beholden to no one.”


“Is that what you’re using to pay me?”


I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the slight dampness of stress lingering. “I consider you important, yes.”


Again, she bowed her head, her hair falling forward and covering her face. I sat down beside her, and faced her straight on. “Hey. Look at me.”


She lifted her face. Her cheeks were wet with tears, her eyes wide, and her hands clutched the cushions of the sofa so hard her knuckles were white.


“Why are you this upset?”


“You expect me to remain calm after hearing how neglected you were your entire life?”


I shrugged. “It’s the past, Katharine. I told you it wasn’t pretty. Still, it doesn’t concern the here and now.”


“I disagree. I think it does, Richard.”


I shook my head. “Nothing will change because I told you my story.”


“Perhaps not for you.”


“I don’t understand.”


“No, I’m not surprised.”


“What the hell does that mean?”


“It explains a lot to me. Why you are the way you are when you interact with people. Why you don’t get close to anyone in your life. And why you don’t let people in.”


I glared. “Don’t start to analyze me.”


“I’m not. I’m stating what I think, that’s all.”


“I don’t want your tears, or your sympathy.”


“That’s too bad, Richard—because you have them both. Your parents were horrible people, and you—no child—deserves to be mistreated or ignored.” She smiled sadly. “But you choose the way to live your life now. You think you’ve let go of the past, but you haven’t. The way you see the world, the way you treat people is colored by how you were treated.” She stood, brushing her cheeks. “If you let yourself try, I think you’d discover people aren’t always as horrid as you think we are. Some of us are actually worthy.”


Her words stopped me cold. “I don’t think you’re horrid, Katharine—quite the opposite, in fact. I’m the despicable person.”


“No, Richard. You aren’t despicable. I think you’re lost. You haven’t let yourself feel. Once you do, once you allow yourself to connect to someone, I think you’ll find this world is a much better place. Love doesn’t make you weak. Real, honest love—it makes you strong.”


With those words, she bent down and brushed a kiss on my cheek. I felt the evidence of her sadness on my skin, the wetness of her tears lingering.


“Thank you for telling me. And, for the record, I don’t think you’re anything like your father. You only think so because you don’t know any other way. I think, if you try, you could be a great man.”


She turned and left the room, leaving me with much to think about.

CHAPTER 19
RICHARD


I WAS UNSURE WHAT TO do with myself after the conversation with Katharine. Her words kept echoing in my head, making me question the truths I held onto for all these years. I felt drained, and I needed to stop the barrage of thoughts, so I changed, hitting my gym. I pushed myself hard, showered, then headed straight to my den. I expected Katharine to approach me wanting to continue the conversation, which I hoped to avoid, but she was busy in the kitchen, not bothering to look my way as I went past.


Waiting on my desk was a plate of sandwiches and a thermos of coffee. I stared at the offering for a moment, then with a shrug, dug in as I lost myself in the files I had brought home. It wasn’t until early evening I saw her again.


“Dinner is ready, if you’re hungry.”


I looked up, squinting.


“Richard, you need some light.” She crossed over, snapping on my desk lamp. She shook her head. “And maybe a pair of reading glasses. I’ve been noticing how close you hold things to your face to read.”


I looked down, realizing she was right.


“I’ll make an appointment for you,” she offered, a grin tugging on her lips. “I doubt that falls under your assistant’s job listing, either.”


I had to chuckle, even as I rolled my eyes. When I met with Amy on Friday, listing out my expectations, she had surprised me with her own list. PAs at The Gavin Group were a vastly different species than at Anderson Inc. She was there to provide back up, keep me organized, and even, on occasion, fetch me lunch, but she was not there to make me coffee, toast a bagel, or pick up my dry cleaning. To say I was put in my place would be an understatement. She was kind enough to show me the large employee lounge, how to use the coffee machine, and where I could find the bagels and other assorted foods Graham kept on hand for his staff.


Katharine had to leave the room to hide her laughter when I told her the story.


“It’s not funny!” I yelled after her.


“Oh, but it is.” Her dry reply drifted down the hall.


I had to admit, she was right. In retrospect, it didn’t kill me to get up and grab a coffee. It was a good way to stretch my legs. I had a sense Amy would be skimpy with the cream cheese on my bagel, anyway. Katharine always piled it on the way I liked it.


“Christ, I’m getting old,” I grumbled. “Reading glasses.”


She laughed. “Yes, thirty-two is ancient. You’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll make them look good.”


I quirked my eyebrow at her. “Oh yeah? Are you saying I’ll look even sexier wearing glasses?”


“I’m saying nothing. Your ego is big enough. Dinner is in the kitchen if you want it.”


With a snicker, I switched off the light, following her to the kitchen, still wary. Some of my clearest memories of my childhood were of my parents’ constant disagreements. My mother was like a dog with a bone, refusing to give an inch. She would harp away at my father who would eventually explode. I was worried Katharine would attempt to pick up the threads of our earlier conversation, but she said nothing. Instead, as we were eating she slid a paint chip my way. “What do you think?”


I studied the greenish color. “A bit feminine for my taste.”


“It’s for my room.”


“If you like it, then go for it.”


She slid another one to me, and I picked it up. The deep claret hue was strong and vibrant. I liked it. “For?”


“I thought the wall around the fireplace. To anchor the room.”


Anchor the room? What the hell did that mean?


“Just the one wall?”


“I thought I’d paint the others a deep cream.”


I could live with that. “Fine.”


A swatch of material appeared next. It was tweed with the same claret color woven in it and the deep brown of the sofas. “What is this for?” “A couple chairs for the room.”


“I like my furniture.”


“I do, too. It’s quite comfortable. I thought I would add to it; change it up a little. They would look nice by the fireplace.”


“What else?”


“A few pillows, some other touches. Nothing major.”


“No frills or girly shit out here. Do what you want in your room.”


She grinned. “No girly shit. I promise.”


“Who is doing the painting?”


“What?”


“Who did you hire?”


“I’m doing it.”


“No.”


“Why?”


I turned in my chair, indicating the vast space. “These walls are twelve feet tall, Katharine. I don’t want you on a ladder.”


“My room has regular height ceilings. I like to paint. Penny and I did it together, and I’m pretty good at it.”


I tapped the top of the counter with one of the paint chips. How could I make her understand she didn’t have to do these things anymore? I kept my voice patient as I tried again. “You don’t have to paint it. I’ll pay to have it done.”


“But I like doing it. I’ll be careful.”


“I’ll make you a deal. Paint your room, and we’ll discuss this one when it’s time.”


“Okay.”


Another swatch of material caught my eye. Leaning over, I picked it up, fingering the thickness of the weave. Bold navy and brilliant green plaid woven on a rich background. I held it up, studying it. It didn’t look like something for either room.


“Do you like that?” “I do. It’s striking. What’s it for?”


She looked down at the table, color bleeding and gathering under her skin.


“What?”


“I thought maybe you might want your room done when I finished the others. I saw it and it reminded me of you.”


“I look like plaid?”


“No,” she answered with a small laugh. “The colors, they’re like your eyes. The green and the blue mixing together—such an amazing combination.”


I had no response, but for some reason, I felt as if I was the one blushing now. I pushed the swatch her way and stood. “We’ll see how the rest comes out. Anything else?”


“I, ah, I need to move my clothes in the closet. I don’t want paint getting on them.”


“My closet is massive. I don’t even use half of it. Hang your stuff in there. There are some really high rods—your dresses can go there.”


“You wouldn’t mind?”


“It’s fine.”


“Thank you.”


I inclined my head and went back to the den. I mulled over the conversation in my head, chuckling when I realized how domestic the whole thing seemed. Discussing paint chips and material over dinner with my wife. I should have hated it.


Yet, somehow, I didn’t.

Thunder rolled, and the clouds hung low and heavy overhead. I turned my chair, gazing outside into the darkened skies of the late afternoon. Grimacing, I rubbed the back of my neck, recognizing the telltale signs of a headache. They were rare, but I knew the beginnings of them well—the unexpected storm the determining factor.


The office was calm that afternoon, the usual hum of activity absent. Adrian had left on a last-minute business trip, Adam was with clients, and Jenna was out of the office. Graham had whisked Laura away for a surprise weekend, and the rest of the staff was busy within their own spaces.


In the time I had been at The Gavin Group, I discovered a completely new atmosphere in the business world. The energy was still high, the place buzzed with voices, meetings, and strategies, but it was a different sort of energy than had been at Anderson Inc. It was positive, almost nurturing. As Graham told me, they worked together as a team: administrators, PAs, designers—everyone was involved and treated equally. Amy was as important of an asset as I was. It took some getting used to, but I was beginning to acclimate myself. With a sigh, I realized I was acclimatizing myself in other ways. Before Katharine, I worked late nights, attended many business dinners, and dated a lot of women. When I was at the condo, I used the gym, watched the occasional TV program, and entered the kitchen only to grab a coffee or a plate for the evening’s takeout dinner. Otherwise, I spent the time in the den working or reading. Seldom did I have company; and it was rare I brought a woman home. My condo was my private space. If needed, either we went to her place, or I rented a hotel room. The rare time my relationships lasted longer than a few dates, I invited them over for dinner, but they went home at the end of the evening, and they never made it up the staircase.


Now, business dinners I attended, Katharine was on my arm, and the table filled with my colleagues, their spouses, and of course, the Gavin family. One such dinner, I’d looked up, meeting the frosty glare of David across the room.


I knew David had heard of my marriage, and my name was not to be spoken in the hallowed halls of Anderson Inc. I found his anger entertaining. I tightened my hand on Katharine’s shoulder, causing her to look up at me.


“What?” she whispered.


“David,” I muttered.


She stole a glance his way, turning toward me. “I think I need a kiss now.”


“You read my mind.”


With a wicked smile, I lowered my head. Her fingers threaded into the back of my hair as she tugged me close, pressing her mouth to mine. It was hard, deep, and far too short; enough to anger David even further, but not embarrass Graham. When we broke apart, Jenna was giggling, and David was headed for the exit. I dropped another kiss on Katharine’s lips. “Well done.”


Most evenings, I ate dinner with Katharine and found myself talking about my day, sharing my projects with her, wanting to hear her thoughts. She knew me better than anyone at the office, and often she came up with a word or a concept I hadn’t considered. Instead of sitting in the den, I often brought my laptop into the living room, working while she watched TV or read. I found I liked her quiet company.


Twice, we had Adrian and Jenna over for dinner, using the new table that now resided in the once empty space. Katharine assured me it was what a normal couple did—they socialized with other couples. I discovered a very competitive side to her when Jenna announced she’d brought some board games over for after dinner. I’d rolled my eyes at the thought of game night yet found myself enjoying the camaraderie of it. Adrian and I beat them at Trivial Pursuit, but they wiped the table with us on Pictionary and Scrabble. After a couple glasses of wine, Katharine became lippy and liked to trash talk, which I found quite amusing. It reminded me of Penny.


I’d now had four “dates” with Penny while Katharine went to yoga. She was surprised to see me show up the first Tuesday, but once I flashed the rich chocolate-covered cherries Katharine told me she loved, I was welcome. The jazz trio was surprisingly good, and we both enjoyed the music before going back to her room for tea and a chat. I liked listening to her talk and hearing the memories she liked to share with me. She would drop tidbits about herself and Katharine, I could store away for future reference. On the following Thursday, I stole back to see her at lunch, sneaking her in a cheeseburger she’d confessed to craving.


Our next two dates were local choirs, and we cut out early for tea, more stories of Katharine, and whatever goodie I had picked up for her that day.


The past Tuesday had been a classical group, but she was fitful and anxious, and far more forgetful. Partway through, I took her back to her room, hoping the familiar surroundings would comfort her. She calmed some, but still seemed upset. When I hunted down Tami, she told me that had been happening a great deal more often and usually Katharine could soothe her best. I called her, and she came to the home, leaving her yoga class right away. When she arrived, Penny was asleep in her chair, waking up when she heard Katharine’s voice.


“Oh, my Katy! I was looking for you!”


“I’m right here, Penny. Richard called me.”


“Who?”


“Richard.”


I peered around Katharine. “Hello.” She frowned. “Do I know you?”


I felt a small fissure in my heart open, but I held out my hand. “I’m a friend of Katharine’s.”


“Oh. It’s nice to meet you. I want some time with my daughter if you’d excuse us.”


I stood up. “Of course.”


Katharine smiled sadly. “I’ll see you soon.”


Even though I knew it was part of the disease, it bothered me to the point I went to see Penny the next day. I picked up a bunch of her favorite flowers—daisies—and presented them to her with a bow. Her dark eyes twinkled in her chubby cheeks and she let me kiss the downy skin.


“I see why my Katy is so taken with you, Richard.”


“Is she now? Well, I am a charmer.” I smirked down at her, relieved.


She pursed her lips. “I think there is more there than that.” Ignoring her words, I stayed until she fell asleep. I left somewhat calmer. I could imagine if it upset me when she didn’t know my face, how much it must affect Katharine.


It struck me odd I should be worried about that. Nevertheless, I was. I decided I needed to start tagging along for more visits with Katharine, as well as going to some on my own.


I turned back to the file in front of me. The Kenner Footwear campaign I had pitched to Graham had been met with huge enthusiasm by the client, and I was still working up all the different concepts. I rubbed my temple, wishing I could concentrate more. When I spoke with him on the phone earlier, Graham had told me to cut out early, and I closed the file, shutting down my laptop. Maybe I would take him up on his offer. I could go home and see what changes had occurred today—see what my wife was up to.

My wife.


Katharine.


Somehow, since we had exchanged vows, we had come to an unspoken truce. The things I always found annoying, no longer bothered me. Maybe it was because I understood where they came from. Maybe I was more patient because she understood me.


Between our talks, Penny, yoga, paint chips, dinners and games, we had become . . . allies. Maybe even friends. We had a common goal, and instead of fighting and pulling, we had almost settled into a life, together. I knew my tongue wasn’t as sharp. What before was nasty, now became teasing. I liked hearing her laugh. I looked forward to sharing my day with her. When she felt sad about a bad day with Penny, I wanted to cheer her up. I had taken her out to dinner a few times, simply to have her dress up and enjoy herself. I found myself wanting to be affectionate with her. It felt natural to hold her hand, drop a kiss to her brow, or brush a caress over her lips—and not always when we were in public. She often pressed a kiss to my head when heading upstairs, and there were times I slipped my arms around her for a hug or dragged my lips over her soft cheek in thanks for dinner or to say goodnight. They were actions without thought—all simply a part of being with her now.


Maybe tonight, I’d surprise her. Offer to take her out if she wanted. We could drop by, visit Penny, and take her some decadent treat she loved—or we could order in. Afterward, I could relax, she could watch one of the shows she liked, or we could watch a movie. Maybe a quiet night would help ease my head.


I’d ask her what she wanted.


I still liked seeing the surprise and confusion cross her face when I offered her the choice.





I opened the door, hearing voices. I recognized them both, and smirked. Jenna was over—again.


“Katharine, sweetheart!”


Hurried footsteps headed my way and she came around the corner. She looked unusually frazzled. I was used to seeing her calm and was surprised when she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me close.


“Are you okay?” I murmured into her ear.


“Jenna is frightened of storms—Adrian is away. She asked if she could stay here until the storms break.”


The warning behind her words hit me.


“Your room?” I asked, worried. “Yes.”


I drew back. “Is it . . . ?”


“All ready, yes.”


“Okay.”


“I–I didn’t—” she floundered.


“It’s fine.”


I walked ahead of her, pulling her behind me. “Hey, Jenna.”


The woman I was used to seeing flitting around, enthusiastic and vibrant, was curled into the corner of my sofa, looking anything but vibrant. She was pale and looked scared to death.


“I’m sorry, Richard. Storms terrify me. With both my parents and Adrian away, I didn’t know what else to do. The house is so big when he’s gone.”


I sat beside her and patted her leg awkwardly. “It’s fine. I’m glad you came.”


“Katy said you had no plans I’m interrupting?” “No. In fact, I have a headache. I was looking forward to a peaceful night at home. We’ll sit it out together, okay?”


She clasped my hand with her shaky one. “Thank you.”


I stood up. “No problem. I’m going to change and grab a shower.”


“I’ll bring you some Tylenol,” Katharine offered. “You’re rather pale, Richard. Are you sure you’re okay?”


“It’ll pass. I may grab a nap.”


“I’ll bring a cold compress, too.”


I went past her, stopping to drop a grateful kiss to her head. “Thank you—that will help.”


Upstairs, I peeked in her room, not having looked while she was redoing it. There had been some delays with the furniture she ordered, so the room took longer than she had planned, only being finished this week. There was a bag on the floor I assumed was Jenna’s. The room was complete, looking like what Jenna would think was a guest room. Empty. None of Katharine’s personal possessions were scattered around. She had added a bookshelf and unpacked her few boxes, the knickknacks and books filled the shelves. A new chaise lounge sat in the corner, a small table, and lamp beside it. Some of Penny’s watercolors adorned the walls. I pulled open the dresser drawers and closet, seeing they were empty, aside from a couple of boxes stored in the closet. The bed was made up with the new linens she had bought. It was staged well.


I went to my room and had to pause for a moment. Katharine was everywhere. Her robe was draped across the end of the bed, the deep red silk shimmering in the light. A few pictures of Penny and us were sprinkled around. The once empty night table had books and a half-full glass on it. The top of the dresser had her favorite perfume, jars, and bottles strewn around. Without even looking, I knew the bottom drawers of the dresser now held her clothes, and the closet still housed the contents of hers she had planned on moving back this week. In the bathroom, her toothbrush was beside mine; her daily skin care items were on the counter. She must have moved like a tornado, to make sure it looked like this was her room, too.


She was waiting when I got out of the shower, holding the cold compress and pills. She had shut the door, giving us some privacy.


“How much time did you have?” I asked, keeping my voice low.


“About fifty minutes. A bunch of items are in the boxes I had unpacked. I switched things around as fast as I could when she called, crying, asking if she could come. She called the cell phone—I told her I was out and would be home in an hour. I didn’t know how to say no.”


“You couldn’t,” I acknowledged.


“Are you okay with this?”


I sighed and held out my hand for the pills. “It’s fine. Thank God, it’s a king-sized bed. You stick to your half, I’ll stick to mine.” I smirked. “You can have a close encounter of the wheezing.”


Her eyes grew round, making me snicker. She’d been so anxious to set the scene, she hadn’t thought about what happened later. Swallowing the pills, I reached for the bottle of water she was holding.


“Unless, of course, you’d like to revisit the whole ‘fucking, no fucking’ topic. You’ve already resisted me for a month.”


She glowered, and I couldn’t resist bending down and brushing her mouth. “Think about it, sweetheart,” I murmured against her softness.


I was getting weary of my hand. She slammed her hands on her hips. “I doubt you’re up to your usual stellar performance at this moment. Especially being so out of practice—and having a headache.”


I smirked as I collapsed onto the mattress, groaning with relief when she laid the compress on my head.


“I’d be willing to put forth my best effort.”


I was shocked to feel her mouth on mine again.


“Go Bleep yourself, VanRyan.”


Her words had no venom, and my offer was bullshit. We both knew it, and we both laughed, the sound of our joint amusement low in the room.


“Rest, I’ll come get you for dinner.”


I caught her hand and kissed it.


“You’re going soft,” she chided, running her hand over my aching head.I shut my eyes and surrendered to her gentle touch.


“All your fault,” I mumbled.


“I know,” she replied as the door closed.