Don’t Call Me Sweetheart (11 page)

Whitney dropped her hands into her lap and sat staring at
them dejectedly. “I should have known better.”

“It seems we both let ourselves be carried away for entirely
different reasons, didn’t we?” Stephan asked, drawing Whitney to her feet. Once
more Whitney found herself pulled into his embrace but this time she received
the comforting hug of a brother. She returned it in the same manner.

“Whitney Lane, would you let me to invite you out again?”

Whitney looked up into Stephan’s honest blue eyes and
nodded. “I’d like that. Let’s put this far behind us and pretend it never
happened, deal?”

“Deal,” Stephan answered, then grinned as a thought occurred
to him. “But you know, lawyers have to make sure deals are sealed correctly. Don’t
suppose you’d like to seal this one with a kiss?”

He deserved the playful punch in the stomach he received for
an answer.

* * * * *

Crisp autumn days set the countryside aflame with brilliant
reds and oranges as the foliage changed its seasonal coat. The days sped by
without any further contact from Christian and with the passing of the holidays
Whitney found herself too busy playing hostess to hordes of suburbanites
flocking to the mountains to drink in the crystalline beauty of the
snow-covered scenery, to dwell on it. The inn had quickly made a name for
itself under her supervision as news spread of the pampered atmosphere put in
place by the new owner, surpassing the notable reputation the Dades had already
garnered. With the Walstens’ help, Whitney had not only learned the finer
points of proprietorship but had found that she had quite an aptitude for the
role.

Scurrying to see to the details for the evening meal,
Whitney noted with pride the efficient manner in which her business was run. She
had added a full-time cook and a housekeeper to the staff Christian had left in
place. It had become apparent that Mrs. Walsten simply could not keep up with
the additional duties brought about as a result of their growing popularity.

As she stepped into the kitchen Whitney was assailed by the
savory aroma of country pot roast and steamed vegetables. Her guests were in
for a special treat that evening. Bette Laird had come highly recommended as
the finest cook in the county, so Whitney had wasted little time recruiting her
special talents. The good-natured culinarian added an essential element to the
country inn’s atmosphere.

“Bette, you are an absolute wizard in the kitchen,” Whitney
said, giving the small, gray-haired woman an affectionate hug as she passed
her. “I’ll have to watch myself, or I’ll put on fifty pounds with your
wonderful treats tempting me every day.”

“Posh, child,” the cook exclaimed, dimpling at the
compliment. “You’re just a wee mite and could stand a bit of fattening by the
looks of you. That nice Mr. Thayer would agree with me, I’m sure. He certainly
spends enough time looking after you to be an authority on your appearance at
any rate.”

It was Whitney’s turn to blush. Since the night Christian
had called they had continued to enjoy each other’s company and on the few
occasions when Stephan had stretched the boundaries of their relationship to
again include a kiss, he had been careful to keep them gentle and
non-threatening.

Whitney still couldn’t see Stephan in the same way as she
did Christian but she refused to give in to the notion that there was only one
man who could awaken her desires and that such a man could possibly be
Christian Dade. His very name turned her heart cold. Close to a year had passed
since she had last seen him and there had been no more phone calls. Stephan had
tried to tell her that the inn meant everything to Christian and that as soon
as he had completed his objective he would be back but she didn’t believe a
word of it. Why should she? He hadn’t expressed any interest in the running of
it since he had sold it to her, or any desire to discuss her decisions and
improvements, even if they were none of his business. If it meant so much to
him wouldn’t he at least make a trip out once in a while, or pick up the
telephone to inquire as to how things were going? Really going. She had no
doubt that the one year anniversary would pass unnoticed and she would retain
permanent possession of her darling home. The sooner that day came the better. At
least then she could erase the thought of Christian Dade from her memory
forever.

Dragging herself back to the present she addressed the older
woman as she watched her pile platters high with food, “Bette, you know Stephan
and I are just friends.”

Refusing to be so easily dissuaded Bette smiled knowingly. “Deny
it all you like, dear but mark my words. That man intends to have you for his
wife, or my name isn’t Bette Laird.”

Deny it all you like.

The words rang in her ears, taking her back to another time
when she had heard them thrown at her, reminding her how easily her body
betrayed her. Whitney sighed. She didn’t like to remember those days, or the
handsome devil who returned again and again to plague her thoughts.

“Well, he’ll have a long wait since I don’t intend to get
married anytime soon. Frankly, I don’t think I’m the marrying kind.” Whitney
scooped a finger through the nearly empty frosting bowl Bette had set aside
earlier, licking her finger daintily. She hadn’t noticed that Stephan had
entered the room behind her just in time to hear her carefree words.

He frowned. Christian did that to her. He had broken her
heart. Stephan wished one of them would tell him just how they had met each
other and what had happened but Whitney point-blank refused to have a conversation
about Christian and he hadn’t been able to reach Christian since the night he
had called Whitney.

Trying to appear as if he had not overheard her last remark,
Stephan spoke up. “The dining room is filling up, Whitney and it looks as if
your ace in the hole here has everything under control. Are you ready to watch
that movie you promised me?”

“Oh Stephan, I didn’t hear you come in,” Whitney said,
turning her head at the sound of his voice. Her searching eyes found no
evidence that he had heard her comments regarding marriage. That was close. She
wouldn’t have hurt him for anything in the world. He had become much too
important to her as a friend for her to treat their relationship casually. And
while she was well aware of his feelings for her she just couldn’t return them
yet. She had made sure she was blatantly honest with him about the way she
felt, not wanting to give him false hope that she would ever be capable of more
but she would have felt bad if he had heard her discussing their relationship with
someone else.

With a little more time, she hoped to return the feelings of
love that Stephan harbored for her. She couldn’t think of anything more perfect
than to live out her days at the base of Mt. Rainier with a well-educated,
handsome husband, a successful writing career and a bustling business.

Whitney continued to keep her writing a carefully guarded
secret. The Walstens were of course aware that she spent a lot of her spare
time alone in her room working at a her computer but she had confided in no
one, not even Stephan, that she was a committed author. She wasn’t sure what
their reaction would be and since she had no experience portraying someone of
Lane McLaughlin’s elevated stature, she choose to remain just as she was,
Whitney Lane, a woman of considerable means but nothing more.

And, she thought to herself as she hastily washed her sticky
fingers, at the moment Stephan was waiting to follow her up to her sitting
room, a video cassette in his hands. She asked Bette to bring them some hot
chocolate a bit later before leading the way to her private wing. Stephan
plopped the movie into the VCR and she shooed Gabbycat off the couch to make
room for the two of them. She noticed as she did so that it had started to snow
again. According to those who had been in the area far longer than Whitney,
they were having a greater than usual amount of snow this year and it was only
mid-February.

As Stephan turned off all but one small lamp in a far corner
of the room and settled himself beside her, Whitney watched the delicate
snowflakes falling past the open lace curtain at the window. It felt nice when
Stephan draped an arm casually behind her and Whitney snuggled closer, tilting
her head up from where it rested comfortably against his shoulder.

How could she not be attracted to this man, she marveled,
taking in the sight of his firm chin where a fine sprinkling of stubble had
returned with day’s end, the strong, clean scent he always exuded, the golden
waves of hair that begged a woman to her to slip her fingers through it. She
was a fool. This man could be hers. He was everything a woman could hope for;
successful, handsome, gentle, compassionate. Why couldn’t she love him?

You know why.

True. But she was going to change it if it was the last
thing she ever did. If she could only shake the constraints chaining her heart,
she would be free to spend countless evenings just like this one, safely
cuddled within the arms of a man who loved her. She wanted that. Maybe if she
just tried harder…

Of their own, her arms slipped upward around Stephan’s neck
and he turned questioning eyes toward her. She answered his look by rising up
and gently pressing her lips to his, moving them softly against his own. She
knew that she was surprising him with her forwardness but she didn’t care. After
nearly a year of being shackled to the memory of the responses Christian had
drawn from her, she was determined to remove his presence from all aspects of
her life, including her relationship with Stephan. She had to make herself
forget.

Stephan groaned and gathered Whitney closer, never stopping
to think about what had provoked the uncharacteristic behavior. He hungrily
took what she offered, letting his mouth explore the graceful column of her
neck, nibbling at her sensitive earlobes and eliciting an answering moan from
Whitney as well. Ever so gently, he pressed her backward onto the couch,
lowering himself onto her slim form and straining not to go too fast and end up
frightening her. Whitney pressed herself to him, opening herself to the
feelings of desire she could feel coursing through his body. She returned his
kisses with a passion that surprised her and Stephan but she knew they were
only a facsimile of those she had shared with Christian. The fire and
excitement just was not there, no matter how much she willed it to be.

Stephan was unaware of Whitney’s inner turmoil and had begun
to stroke her ribs, subtly brushing the side of her breast with his thumb. With
his other hand he reached to undo the top button of her soft, suede shirt. His
lips followed his exploring hand and he traced a path with his tongue to the
point where her full breasts met. He feathered kisses against the sensitive
spot, causing Whitney to cry out, not with passion as he thought but with alarm
that she had allowed, no instigated, this action.

“Stephan, stop. Please.”

“I can’t, Whitney,” Stephan breathed against her skin,
continuing the sultry massage of his lips on her exposed upper breast. “I need
you so badly, don’t you know that?”

Whitney pressed upward with her whole body, trying
unsuccessfully to dislodge him. She could feel his need and she knew that she
had made a serious miscalculation. Bringing her hands up to cradle Stephan’s
face, she stopped him long enough for him to see the sadness in her glittering green
eyes, the unshed tears brimming there.

He instantly drew back and swept her into a comforting
embrace, whispering soothing endearments against her soft hair. Whitney couldn’t
bear the terrible look of remorse that had flashed across his face, knowing
that he was blaming himself again for what had been entirely her fault. Damn
Christian Dade.

“Stephan, I’m so sorry. All I ever seem to do is hurt you.” The
tears began to fall in earnest and Whitney gave in to them, sobbing
uncontrollably as Stephan rocked her back and forth.

“No, sweetheart. I did it again; it’s my fault I lost
control.” He paused to push her tangled hair out of her face. “You’re not to
blame. You could never hurt me.”

“But I have,” Whitney choked out between sobs. “You need
more than I can ever give you. You deserve so much more. I-I don’t think we
should see one another any more because I just can’t bear to keep hurting you.”

She jumped up from the couch and crossed to the window where
she stood blindly staring at the snowflakes as they one by one hit the warm
pane of glass and melted, leaving a wet trail behind them as they snaked their
way downward. They reminded Whitney of tears. Her slender arms wrapped
themselves around her waist and Stephan could see her shoulders quaking as she
cried piteously. His heart broke seeing her that way and he cursed himself for
bringing her to such a state again. Each time he touched her she broke down. What
kind of a monster had Christian been that he could have had such a lasting
effect on her?

“Whitney, I have to know. What did Christian do?”

He got no further before she turned her tear-streaked face
to him, silently imploring him not to question her about the past. Sighing in
resignation that he might never have answers to his questions, he went to her
instead and simply held her, tenderly soothing her pain away with softly
uttered words of comfort. How long they stood there silhouetted against the
dark, snowy sky Whitney had no idea. She remembered that her sobs had
eventually quieted to shuddering little gasps. Stephan never left, holding her
as she cried for what had been and what would never be.

Finally she found the strength to pull back from the safety
found within Stephan’s arms. She looked up into his strong, caring face,
wishing for the thousandth time that she could do so with love.

“Stephan, I can’t tell you how desperately I want to give
you what you want. To love you, be with you, touch you.” Her voice trembled and
she fought the urge to start crying again. “I just can’t and I can’t even tell
you why. All I know is that I’ve been hurt and until I work through this I’m
not fit to be with any man, especially one as wonderful as you.”