Chaste Kiss (6 page)

The stalker forgotten, Isabel's gaze flowed over him as he read. She loved watching him. She admired his noble straight nose and strong jaw with a small cleft in the center of his chin. The steady rise and fall of his broad chest, his long muscular legs stretched out atop the covers, his leather riding boots casually crossed at the ankles. He struck quite a heart-stopping pose. His handsome profile made it obvious why he'd been so popular with the ladies in his day.

She easily pictured him riding a great black horse across the English countryside in the early morning hours after having spent a night in the arms of his latest conquest. His hair wiping about in the wind, the flush of his tan cheeks, his hearty laughter as he bounded over stone walls and across fields. What a sight he must have been. What a lover he must have been.

Forgetting her promise to herself to not think of him in that way, she let her eyes drift closed and imagined feeling the heat of his body near hers, the smell of leather mixing with his own rich scent. The tingles his touch would create against her flesh, igniting fires in the secret places of her soul.

She felt the blanket settle over her shoulders. Her eyelids were too heavy to lift, and she didn't want to lose the wonderful image she'd conjured up.

"Pleasant dreams, poppet."

Pleasant dreams
. Oh yes, she would have many of those, and they would all be of William.

After days upon days of recuperating, her fears of leaving Derrington Manor slowly dissolved with William's gentle assurance and indefatigable support. She couldn't wait to get out and find the perfect spot for her store.

Her nightly and often daily visits with William helped to pass the time between recuperating and planning her new business, but one last worry still niggled at her newfound optimism. She still didn't know what lay beneath her bandages. But today was the official unveiling. Although the scrapes and bruises had disappeared, she didn't want anyone around when she removed the gauze.

"William, would you show yourself, please? You know, I know you're there.” She grinned, feeling the pleasant tingle of his presence. It bothered her that she couldn't see him all the time as she did as a child, but every day her extraordinary vision improved. Only when he stood in bright light did his image appear vague, and in direct sunlight it was destroyed completely.

"I am here.” He appeared beside the bed.

"I'd like to ask a favor."

"Anything your heart desires.” He held out his arms wide.

If only she could feel them wrapped around her. “I would like to be alone for a few hours. I don't want anyone to see me take off my bandages."

"In my eyes you will always be the sweet young miss that made my existence bearable. Why should my presence disturb you so?"

Isabel didn't know exactly how to put it and wasn't sure she wanted to try. The uncomfortable parental tone he often took with her annoyed her to no end.

Sweet young miss, indeed. He still saw her as a little girl in pigtails, when in truth she was a woman. An unfortunate woman whose childhood crush had changed drastically into a grown woman's desire. Thoughts of stolen kisses and gentle caresses that could never be, yet yearned for just the same were her constant companions.

If the only thing she could accomplish was to show her ghostly friend how very grown up she was through her appearance, then perhaps her heart wouldn't feel quite so heavy. Isabel knew that William would never see her the way he did in her dreams—as a beautiful, sensual woman—but she hoped to at least alter his view of her as a child. She prayed above all else, however, that she didn't look like Frankenstein's Bride once the bandages came off.

"Let's just say it's a girl thing,” she said, warmed at his perplexed expression and the deep crease between his thick full brows. “A girl thing” wasn't easily translated.

"Very well. I shall return when the bed draws me at sunset.” He bowed and vanished.

After searching the room with her senses, she knew William was gone. Satisfied, she entered the bathroom and faced the mirror.

"Well, kiddo, this is it,” she mumbled.

Carefully she peeled the tape and gauze from across her nose, slowly revealing the damage she took when she kissed the windshield. “Wow."

Turning her head from side to side, she examined the doctor's handiwork. The bridge of her nose seemed to be slightly crooked, but the pug tip was still intact. A broad smile spread across her face.

She was still Isabel Derrington, and she didn't need more surgery on her nose. She actually kind of liked it being a little crooked. It gave her character.

Her delight quickly turned to trepidation. She still had a bandage across her forehead. Tentatively she reached up, pulled the covering from her face, and lifted the hair from her brow. Laughter bubbled out. The scar was minimal at best. It looked like nothing more than a tiny red stripe that disappeared when she raised her eyebrows. How could they hide it any better than that?

"Izzy?” Her uncle appeared in the bathroom doorway.

She slowly turned to see what he would think of her while trying to control her joy.

"Well?” She giggled.

"You look wonderful!” Jerome quickly took her face in his hands. “You can hardly tell the difference."

"So much for all that doom and gloom from the doctor about further surgery.” She hugged her uncle tightly. “And the name's Isabel, remember?"

He chuckled. “I stand corrected. This is fantastic, sweetheart. I can't tell you what a relief it is. I know.” He pulled her away from his chest, gazing gleefully down into her eyes. “We should celebrate. You and I should go out to dinner this evening. What do you think?"

Her heart sunk. She wanted to spend the afternoon sprucing herself up for her evening visit with William, but how could she tell her uncle she wanted to celebrate her recovery with a ghost?

"Uncle Jerome, I'd love to go out, but if you don't mind I'd like to wait. I had another idea, and I hope it won't hurt your feelings."

"Don't be ridiculous. What you want is what I want."

"What I want is to be alone. I'd like you and Constance to go out to dinner and a movie or something, leaving the house all to myself. You've both been so wonderful and I love you, but I just feel like having some time by myself. Do you understand?"

He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “Well, I think I do, sweetheart. But I'm not quite sure I approve."

"I'm a big girl now, Uncle. I'll be fine.” She pecked him on the cheek then she scooted past him to the bedroom, relieved he wasn't hurt by her request.

"Are you sure this is what you want?” He followed her.

"Absolutely. I want you and Constance to go out and have a good time. You've both waited on me hand and foot for days, and it's time you had some fun."

"Fun? What's this about fun?” Constance said as she entered, then stopped abruptly. “Oh my, look at you! You look absolutely wonderful."

"Thanks.” Isabel smiled widely, practically dancing from foot to foot. She may not be a beauty queen, not by a long shot, but at least she wasn't Frankenstein's bride. “I was just telling Uncle Jerome how I want you two to go out and have some fun. I would really like the house to myself for a couple of hours. I'm almost one hundred percent better. I'll admit I can't run a marathon, but I'll be fine."

Rummaging through the clothes Constance had collected from her apartment in High Point, she tried to decide on the perfect outfit. She was determined to straighten out this poppet-little one thing once and for all. She was not a child.

"Out? Your uncle and me—out together?"

Isabel heard the apprehension in Constance's voice, but vowed to push forward. She wanted an evening alone with William, and it wouldn't hurt her uncle's relationship either, although she'd made a promise not to meddle. “Absolutely. I want you to celebrate for me, while I get to do wicked things like roam around the house naked."

"Isabel Katherine Derrington!” her uncle bellowed.

She couldn't contain her laughter. “I'm only kidding. See what I mean? You're too tense. Both of you. Go out. Have a good time.” They both continued staring at her, as though she'd lost her mind. “Let me put it to you this way. I can't take anymore fussing and nursing. I'll go nuts!"

"Well, all right.” Her uncle stepped up next to Constance. “What do you say? Are you willing to be seen with an ole’ walrus like me?"

A blush crept up Constance's neck. “I don't see why not. If you can stand being seen with a dictator like me."

"I'd be honored to escort you, Constance."

Isabel felt like a voyeur. She noisily cleared her throat, and the two took hesitant steps away from one another. “You two run along and have a good time. I want to take a long hot bath then have a little dinner with a glass of wine before curling up with a good book."

"Are you certain?"

"Definitely. Now would you please go?” She ushered them to the door before her uncle could ask any more questions.

"All right, all right.” Jerome turned back to Constance and offered his arm. “Shall we?"

Constance smiled and gently slipped her arm through his. Love was definitely in bloom, and it was about time.

After unwrapping the ace bandage from around her ribs, Isabel gave herself the ultimate all over scratch before lowering her body into the bubble filled tub. Having her breasts plastered to her skin made her feel and look more like a prepubescent girl than a woman, but no more. She was through with bandages and far beyond puberty.

Her nerves eased as she lay back against the tub, but butterflies still teased her stomach. Would William like her as a woman? Would he even see her as a woman, or would she still be his poppet, his little one?

Even though she begged him to stop calling her by those names, the childhood endearments slipped from his lips regularly. His gorgeous lips. If she could feel them against hers just once. She sighed softly as reality stuck out its ugly head.

He'd probably see her the way she was. A short, ordinary girl with unruly red hair carrying a few pounds more than the preferred norm.

Disliking the avenue of her thoughts, she switched lanes and remembered the look on her uncle's face. The way he spoke to Constance and escorted her down the hall surprised her. She hadn't expected things to go so well with them so quickly, but she was delighted, nevertheless. Apparently once her uncle set his mind to courting, or was given a decent shove in the right direction, he went all out. Isabel giggled softly, happy with the current turn of events.

The water cooled, and it was time to get dressed, makeup and all. Pressing her hand to her stomach, she nagged the butterflies to be quiet and slipped into her lace panties and bra, thoroughly enjoying the feel of them against her skin.

Funny, but she never thought wearing a bra could feel so good, but then anything would feel good after being trussed up like a chicken ready for the oven for so long. But even she had to admit this was a little different. She wanted to feel like a woman from tip to toe, and nothing said femininity like lacy underwear. Shame no one would see it.

"Maybe—no, don't even go there. I wouldn't have the slightest idea how to do a strip tease.” And it probably wasn't wise. Wasn't a private strip tease supposed to end with touching?

Isabel shivered. “Get a hold of yourself."

Quickly decking herself out in her favorite pair of jeans and billowy green cotton blouse, she set about putting on her makeup and fixing her hair. She decided to leave it down, hanging to the middle of her back. Her makeup covered up the last of any evidence she'd been in an accident and gave her skin a little color. After being cooped up inside for so long, she looked more like a ghost than William.

Turning this way and that, she studied herself in the full-length mirror. Her favorite jeans weren't exactly made for lounging, since they fit snugly across her thighs and bottom, but the denim had faded to a soft caressable blue in all the right eye catching places.

"Well, not exactly the siren look, but it made Chad drool often enough,” she said to her reflection.

He may have called her drab, but that didn't stop him from trying to get her into pants. Why on earth hadn't she realized what a jerk he really was?

"Oh well, all in the past.” The present was what mattered.

Ready for her visitor, Isabel stepped next to the window and watched as the sun set in a brilliant display of pinks and reds streaking across the sky and waited. The waning sunlight cast the room in a warm glow. She hugged herself, silently enjoying the moment. Her life was about to change, she could feel it. And she could feel something else.

William
.

Chapter Four

Slowly dropping her hands, Isabel looked back over her shoulder. William stared at her from the foot of the bed. The stunned look on his face was more than she dared hope for. He'd been taken by surprise and apparently pleasantly so. Her heart skittered as his gaze roamed over her body, warming every inch of her skin.

She took a deep steadying breath. “Hello, William."

"Isabel,” he whispered. “The bandages—you look—different."

"I decided to stop lounging around in my robe all day and get dressed.” She crossed the room to stand before him. Oh, how she wanted to reach out and touch him.

"You are most beautiful.” His gaze searched her face.

She kept her mouth from dropping open. Beautiful? He thought she was beautiful? “No one's ever—” She cleared the surprise from her throat. “Thank you. You look dashing as always,” she said, quickly regaining control of her senses.

He was probably, just being polite, but as he continued studying her from head to toe as though he'd never seen her before, her heart took off in a dead run. Did he have any idea what he did to her when he looked at her that way?

Isabel quickly tried to rein in her galloping hormones. “Would you like to play a game of chess?"

"Chess?"

"Yes, chess. You know, kings, queens, pawns..."

Swallowing deeply, he lifted his gaze from her lips to her eyes. “You are no longer my poppet.” His voice had taken on a rather husky tone.