Only You (13 page)

Caitlin, her cheeks burning, held up her hands. “All I did was call for an appointment. Anything your sister did, she did on her own.”

“Well, you have your appointment,” Max said flatly. “What do you want?” His eyes lit on the length of leg revealed by the alluringly short shirt, and he swallowed hard, hastily averting his gaze. He had wondered how she would look in a skirt. Now he knew. Legs like that could turn even the most jaded playboy’s head.

Caitlin’s fingernails dug into the material of her clutch purse, but her voice was steady. “I need to talk to you, Max.”

He cleared his throat, his eyes still focused somewhere past her. “If it’s about the greenhouse, I’ve decided it might be best to assign Emily Jane to—”

“It isn’t about business. It’s about you and me.” Caitlin licked her sandpaper-dry lips, trying in vain to moisten them.

Max’s gaze quickly swung to her face. “You and me?”

Caitlin nodded. “I—I owe you an apology. I wasn’t fair to you.”

Her voice was so low that Max could hardly make out her words, but he heard enough to want to leap to her and pull her into his arms. He controlled himself though, and instead leaned back against the doorjamb and stuffed his itchy hands into his pockets. “And?”

Drat! He wasn’t going to make this easy, was he? Not that she deserved it easy, she thought
ruefully, but he could have been nicer about it. “And I—we need to talk.”

“So talk.”

“Not here.”

“Well, it just so happens I have a free afternoon.” The barest hint of Max’s familiar wry smile flitted across his face. “Your place or mine?”

They chose Max’s place because Max suggested it and Caitlin was too caught up in her own thoughts to suggest otherwise. Max decided Caitlin should go with him in his car, and again, she didn’t argue. She didn’t speak a single word the entire ride, but Max couldn’t help but notice that every muscle in her body was tense and ready—to fight or to flee. He didn’t know which.

His heart ached at the sight of her pale face and trembling hands, but he couldn’t let her off the hook, not this time. Their entire future together depended on what and how much she said.

Oh, God, I don’t know if I can do it! Caitlin thought in anguish as they walked into his house. How could she bear to say the ugly words? How could she bear the look on Max’s face when he heard them?

They sat on the sofa, side by side, Caitlin wondering desperately if she could somehow avoid the truth. Finally, Max reached over a hand and laid it on top of hers. “Tell me, Caitie,” he urged gently.

“I’m afraid,” she whispered. “Max, I’m so afraid. I don’t know if I can make the words come out. I haven’t said them in a long time.”

“I know it’s hard, sweet Cait. But you have to try. I need to know.”

Caitlin knew he was right. She stiffened her
back and took a deep breath. “Seven years ago, when I was seventeen and a senior in high school, I was pretty shy so I, um, didn’t date much. You can imagine how surprised I felt when the most popular boy in town, a sophomore in college, asked me out during Christmas break.”

Max stared at the far wall, seeing in his mind a younger, more idealistic Caitlin with the promise of her woman’s beauty already beginning to show. A shy, innocent seventeen-year-old. He closed his eyes in a brief moment of panic. Did he really want to hear about the destruction of that innocence?

“My friends couldn’t believe it. Neither could I. Part of me was so flattered that he’d asked me out. The other part was scared. He was everything I wasn’t—wealthy, self-assured, a member of the ‘in’ crowd. I just couldn’t imagine what he wanted with a bookworm like me.” Caitlin stood abruptly and walked over to stand by the big picture window.

She stared out the window for a long while, then continued, her voice flat. “He took me to a very elegant restaurant. I certainly wasn’t dressed properly in my little Sunday-school dress—most of the women there were wearing cocktail dresses. Br-Brad,”—Caitlin had to force the name out—“Brad said I looked fine. After dinner we went dancing at a really fancy nightclub. We were both well under twenty-one, but the manager took one look at Brad and I guess he could read the money. He never said a word. I was so impressed.”

She fell silent again, but Max could see her knuckles whiten as her fists clenched at her sides. A tear ran down her cheek, then another, but when she spoke, her voice was quiet and steady. “When we left the club, Brad drove me to a little
spot overlooking the lake. He said it was time to pay up.”

“Caitlin,” Max broke in, “you don’t have to go on with this.”

“Oh, but I do. For my sake as well as yours,” she said. “I told him that I didn’t think it was funny and demanded he take me home. I told him to stop, I begged him to stop, but—”

“No more.” Max jumped to his feet and covered the distance separating them in two steps. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “You don’t have to say any more, Caitie. I know now.”

“No!” She nearly screamed the word as she pushed his hands away. “I have to say it. He raped me, Max. He raped me.” The words seemed to echo around the room. She gave a short, ugly laugh. “He took me home afterward as if nothing had happened. He even said he’d call me over spring break. Maybe we could do it again.”

“Oh, God,” Max exclaimed. “Oh, God.” His whole body burned with incredible anger and pain. “You weren’t to blame, Cait.”

Caitlin slapped the wall with the palm of her hand. “I know that now, but he was so matter-of-fact about it that I spent days wondering what I had done to lead him on. What I had done to ask for it.”

Max ran a hand over her hair. When she didn’t shy away, he did it again. “What did you do?”

“I finally decided that it wasn’t my fault, that no girl should have to do what she doesn’t want to do, and I went to the police. But by then it was all over school that Caitlin Love was an easy mark. All I had was a torn dress and my word against his money. I got a ruined reputation. He got sent to
Europe.” Caitlin lifted her gaze then and met Max’s eyes. “My own father couldn’t handle it. He kicked me out when he found out I was pregnant.”

“Jordan.” Max felt as though he’d been punched in the stomach. That bright, curious, delightful little boy was the result of such violence? He couldn’t say anything more, but he pulled Caitlin into his arms and held her tightly, burying his face in her neck.

Her arms slid around his shoulders and held on as if for dear life.

The burning tears that she had kept at bay with an iron will now poured out in bitter healing release. Max cradled her in his embrace, his body absorbing the force of her anger, anguish, and fear, while his mind tried to absorb the reality of what his beautiful Caitlin had endured. He wondered briefly why Caitlin hadn’t had an abortion, then realized she was too much of a nurturer to have even considered the option.

When the sobs finally eased to snuffles, Max led Caitlin back to the sofa and sat down, pulling her into his lap. She stiffened for an instant, then relaxed, allowing him to hold her and wipe the tears from her cheeks. He tilted her face up, pressed a light kiss on her forehead, then asked, “And now, sweet Cait?”

She took a deep breath. “And now? I don’t know. I love Jordan more than anything, but I’ve been unable to deal with … other feelings. I was in therapy for four years and still couldn’t handle a normal date. It’s only been during the past couple of years that I’ve been able to go out, as long as the man didn’t get too close.”

She smiled tremulously. “Then along came Maximillian Tobias Shore. He didn’t take no for an answer and he made me feel again.” She paused,
wiping the back of her hand across one cheek. “Granted, he often made me feel angry,” she said, smiling again, “but at least I wasn’t numb anymore.”

“Why did you try to push me away?”

She dropped her gaze. “What happened last week only proved to me that I may never be able to get past the bad memories and build a future. You need someone who can.”

“But I want you, Cait.”

“Max.” She struggled halfheartedly to get up out of his lap, but he stopped her with his hands on her shoulders. She shook her head ruefully. “If you were really smart, you’d run like crazy.”

“If you were really smart, you wouldn’t presume to tell me what I need or want.” Max kissed her nose. “I’m a big boy now and I’ve been picking out my own clothes for years. I think I can pick out my own lady too. I want you, and if I have to fight every single solitary private dragon of yours to get you, I will. I’m not going anywhere, Caitie. You can’t chase me away, you can’t send me away, and you can’t shut me out.”

“I was afraid I had chased you away,” she murmured.

“Why did you think that?”

“Because of this past week. You hadn’t called or anything.”

Max hugged Caitlin and rested his head atop hers. “I was angry. And I was hurt. But I was already trying to decide whether to march over to that greenhouse and take you by storm or whether to send flowers and candy and try to woo you back.”

She pulled back enough to see his face clearly. A smile played around her lips. “I don’t eat candy.”

“Carob-coated almonds.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose you could try the flowers and candy if you wanted to.”

“Why? I’ve got you now.”

Caitlin’s face became serious. “Max, I don’t know if this is going to change anything between us. I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship. But even more than that, I don’t know if I ever will be. I’m not the right woman for you.”

“Let me decide that for myself, sweet Cait.”

A sudden thought occurred to her, and Caitlin again tried to stand, this time succeeding. She stepped back a pace or two, needing some room. “Max, if you have any ideas about me being some sort of reclamation project, then you can just forget—”

“Caitlin!” Max shot to his feet, anger and hurt warring in his expression. He stood breathing hard for a moment, like a bull deciding whether or not to charge. Finally, he gave a deep sigh and shoved his hands into his pockets. His voice was surprisingly mild when he said, “If you think I’m seeing you as my Boy Scout project of the week, then perhaps I need to enlighten you as to my real feelings.” He took a step closer to her, then another, his blue eyes gleaming.

Sapphire? Indigo? Turquoise? Caitlin was mesmerized by his eyes as he moved even closer.

“Now, let’s see,” Max mused as he threaded the fingers of one hand through her tousled curls. “I need to find a way to convince you that my interest in you is purely personal and has nothing to do with pity or sympathy.” He brought up the other hand to cradle the side of her face. “I wonder what I could do to convince you?” he said as his gaze dropped to her lips.

“Max.” She had to tell him that she didn’t want this right now. It was too soon after reliving the old memories. She had to tell him. She would. Later.

He bent his head and his lips slid over hers with the smoothness of satin against satin. He entreated, he teased, he compelled, and she could no more keep herself from responding than she could keep herself from breathing. It felt right. It felt good. It felt perfect.

His tongue played over her lips, asking but not demanding entrance. And she supplied it, her lips parted beneath his gentle persuasion. Her hands wound through his thick hair, pulling him closer.

Max reveled in her response to him. His kiss grew more insistent as his fingers moved over her back, then moved around front.

The weight of her breasts filled his hands, and he savored the feel of the soft, pliant mounds. He wanted more, so much more, but she gave an inarticulate moan that reminded him that Caitlin had already taken one giant step. He would not ask her to take another just yet.

With iron will he brought his raging desire under control. His hands slid to her waist and he pulled back just far enough so that she could see the desire still flaring in his eyes. “Just so you’ll know,” he said, his voice husky with suppressed passion, “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Don’t ever doubt that. But the next move is yours, my sweet Cait.”

Caitlin couldn’t stop staring at his eyes, his beautiful eyes. She could feel his gaze as strongly as if he were actually touching her. Her head told her to pull away, but her body longed to go back into his embrace.

Her breasts felt heavy and swollen, and she knew that only the touch of his hands would ease the ache. Her mouth felt bereft, and only the touch of his lips would assuage the hunger. “Max,” she said. Just one word, but it contained a wealth of longing.

The husky timbre of her voice slid over his heated flesh like velvet and it brought every nerve ending to throbbing life. Max had to clench his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. The choice had to be hers. He could feel her indecision and forced himself to stand still even though he was sure his whole body radiated the force of his desperate need.

Please come to me, sweet Cait
, he thought over and over as if his thoughts could somehow make
it happen. His heart pounded when she swayed closer to him, then took that one step that brought them together.

“Max?”

In her face he saw a curious and moving mixture of longing and fear. Instead of pulling her into his arms the way he wanted to, he took both her hands and cradled them in his.

“Caitie,” he said tenderly.

“I’m afraid,” she admitted, so quietly that Max had to strain to hear it.

Silence fell, a hazy, sensual silence. “Of making love with me?” he finally asked.

Caitlin nodded. “Yes. And of not making love with you.”

His eyes bored into hers and his breath quickened. “Which are you the most afraid of, sweet Cait?”

Her cheeks flushed enchantingly, but her gaze never left his. “Of not making love with you.” She leaned her head forward, resting it on his chest. “Please help me, Max.”

Awed by the gift she was offering him, he brought his hands up to cradle her face. “Caitlin, I will never do anything to hurt you. I promise.”

His mind searched desperately for anything he could say to reassure her. And then, with an intuition born of love and need, he knew. This time had to be as different from her first time as it could be. “All you ever have to say is stop and I’ll stop, Caitlin. I promise. Believe me.”