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Authors: Terri DuLong

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BOOK: Secrets on Cedar Key
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34
W
hen Tuesday morning arrived, in addition to being excited about seeing Worth, I found that I was also nervous, and I wasn't sure why. He was easy to be with. I enjoyed his company. Could it be because being alone, without him, I had discovered how much I missed him? And that led me to realize how much my feelings for him had increased?
I pushed these thoughts aside and gazed at the recipe card that Madame Leroux had given me. She had mentioned how much Worth loved cassoulet, and I had decided to shop for all the fresh ingredients the day before and surprise him with a home-cooked dinner the evening of his arrival. After I showered and dressed, I planned to put it all together in the earthenware casserole to place in the oven later that afternoon, so that it could cook for the required three hours.
Finishing up my coffee and toast, I headed to the shower and then took extra time with my hair and makeup. My new cut and highlights from the stylist at Galeries Lafayette were very becoming, and I admired myself once again in the mirror and smiled, wondering if Worth would notice. I had also indulged in an array of new makeup suggested by the woman at the L'Oréal counter. I decided to wear my blue cashmere sweater, accented with a cotton lace scarf the color of cornflowers, and black slacks. I twirled around in front of the cheval mirror and nodded to myself.
Not bad,
I thought. I looked rested. The new hairstyle and makeup had done wonders to diminish the dragged-out look I had been seeing all year. And I could be wrong, but I swore my overall appearance now had a youthful quality, more vibrant, perky.
Just before noon, I stood in the living room surveying my efforts. Two vases of fresh flowers from the local florist—one on the kitchen table and one in the living room. The cassoulet sat ready on the counter to be popped into the oven in a few hours. Edith Piaf was softly drifting from the CD player. Gosh, if I didn't know better, I would think a bit of seduction was in the works.
A few minutes later I heard a key in the lock and saw Worth walk through the door. Okay. I admit it. My heart did a flip-flop and I know that the huge grin I felt on my face matched his.
“Hi,” he said, leaving his luggage by the door and walking toward me, making me feel like a giddy teenager.
“Hi,” I replied, feeling his arms around me as he pulled me into a tight embrace.
I felt his lips on mine. Gentle, little pecks before the kiss became deeper, more meaningful, and when he pulled away to hold me at arm's length, I was having a hard time catching my breath.
He cocked his head to one side. “You look gorgeous,” he said, and with those three little words he made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. “I'm not sure what you've done, but I like it.”
He pulled me close again, nuzzled his chin in my neck, and whispered, “I missed you. A lot.”
I relished the feeling that he created inside me and nodded. “I missed you too. A lot,” I whispered back.
After a few moments, he stepped back again and took my hand. “So. I take it you enjoyed staying in my apartment? I like the flowers,” he said, nodding toward both vases.
I liked that he was so observant. He had immediately noticed my hair and makeup and now the flowers.
“I did enjoy your apartment very much, and coming here was a good thing for me. I needed that time alone. You were right. I needed to be on my own, away from home, so that I could think straight.” Without even hesitating, I reached up to touch his cheek. “But I'm glad you're here. The apartment was empty without you.”
The sexy smile he gave me made me know that he was just as happy to be here. With me.
He gave my hand a squeeze. “I'm going to go get unpacked, and then we'll figure out what we're doing for the rest of the day. Sound good?” he asked, heading to get his luggage and walking into the smaller bedroom.
“Sounds great,” I said. “But if you're tired, don't let me stop you from taking a nap.”
“Never.” He swung the luggage onto the bed and began removing items and placing them in the bureau drawer. “But is there a chance you have some fresh coffee?”
“I do. You unpack and I'll go get us a cup.”
I had made a stop that morning at the
boulangerie
after the florist, bringing back some flaky croissants, which I now placed on a plate. The sun was shining, and I went to open the French doors in the living room. Standing there breathing in the air, I couldn't help but feel that the universe was in perfect alignment. Yes, it had been a very difficult year, but my intuition told me things were on an upward climb.
I felt Worth's arms go around my waist as he kissed the back of my neck, and I smiled. I wasn't used to such affection, and I realized that although I wasn't used to it, the lack of this simple intimacy was something I had missed my entire married life.
“It's beautiful out,” Worth said. “Let's have the coffee in the garden. Did you sit out here much?”
I shook my head as I passed him the plate of croissants, and I picked up the coffee mugs, following him outside. “This is the first time I'm sitting out here. I had the doors open a few times, but I never actually came out to sit.” I looked around the small area surrounded by bushes and plants that looked like they were going into their winter hibernation.
“You were saving it for me,” he said. “So you've had a good time here, haven't you?”
I nodded. “I have. I visited all the museums that I wanted to, enjoyed the sidewalk cafés, got most of my Christmas shopping done, and very much enjoyed seeing Paris all decorated for the holidays. It's been perfect. And I'm even going home with a Maine coon cat.”
Worth took a sip of coffee and laughed. “I'm glad you're taking one of Annette's kittens. Céline is a wonderful cat, and I think you'll be very happy with Toulouse. We'll go shopping tomorrow to get his travel case and whatever else you'll need.”
“Great,” I said and then noticed after a few moments that he'd become quiet. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he replied, but that sure looked like a sheepish expression on his face.
“Something wrong?”
“Well . . . I've done something and I just hope you won't be upset with me.”
I could only stare at his handsome face, which now showed concern, and I wondered if all that good feeling from earlier might be about to evaporate before my eyes.
“I hope you won't think I'm presumptuous.” He ran a hand through his thick gray hair, and I knew this gesture indicated nervousness or anger on his part. “But . . . ah . . . last week I got to thinking.”
Oh. My. God. Does he not want to see me anymore once we return home? I still remained silent, unable to say anything.
“It just seemed kind of silly . . . you know . . . for me to fly back on Sunday. Alone. And for you . . . to fly back on Monday. Alone.”
Okay, he definitely had me confused. What on earth was this man talking about? I raised my eyebrows, let out a deep breath, and said, “What?”
This brought forth a grin and a chuckle from Worth. “What I'm trying to say is . . . I called the airline, canceled my flight for Sunday, rebooked my flight for Monday, with you, and I hope you won't be upset.”
Upset? This man had gone out of his way to reschedule his flight just to be with me? To spend an extra day with me? Not to mention the cost that must have been involved. It took a second before I realized that my lips were parted but no words were coming out, probably making me look like an idiot.
I let out a burst of laughter as I shook my head. “Gosh, no. Why would I be upset with you? I'm flattered that you'd go to so much trouble to accomplish this. Of course I don't mind. I think it's great.” And I did.
“Oh, good. And by the way . . . I also told them that Toulouse will be traveling with us, so that's all cleared and taken care of.”
“Thank you so much. I had planned to do that tomorrow.”
“Oh. One more thing.”
I waited a second and heard him say, “You don't have your seat in economy anymore. I booked both of us for first class.”
This man was amazing.
 
Three hours flew by with us sitting in the garden, sipping coffee and talking. The air was turning much cooler, and I wrapped my arms around myself, which caused Worth to glance at his watch.
“Hey,” he said. “How about we go for a walk and find a place for wine and then an early dinner?”
I jumped up, headed into the kitchen, popped the cassoulet into the oven, and turned around to shoot a smile at Worth.
“I have a surprise for you,” I explained. “Madame Leroux gave me her recipe for cassoulet, and I've made one for our dinner. It'll be ready about six.”
This earned me another tight embrace. “Are you serious? What a great idea. Okay, then we'll go out, have some wine, get a baguette, and then come back here.”
After we were seated at the café and the waiter had brought our wine, Worth surprised me by saying, “I wanted to tell you, Marin. I'm proud of you.”
“Me? For what?”
“For allowing yourself to be open about Fiona and not holding a grudge against her.”
I looked across the street to another sidewalk café filled with people. “It wasn't easy,” I mumbled.
“I'm sure it wasn't. And a lot of women would not have been able to make the decision that you did.”
I hadn't wanted to tell Worth about my call to Fiona on the phone, so I had just shared the story with him over coffee in the garden. Apparently, he had given it some thought.
“Well,” I said. “I've learned a lot these past few months, and I've come to see that it isn't always easy to do the right thing, and sometimes we're not even sure what the right thing might be. But I finally understood, deep inside, that none of this was about Andrew anymore—he was gone. It wasn't even about Bianca. It's only ever been about Fiona—and I think Andrew proved that by what he did for her, financially, to make certain that despite a mistake on his part, his daughter shouldn't be deprived. And it's not up to me to deprive her of her brothers. Jason and John will have to make that decision.”
Worth reached for my hand and bent his head to kiss me. Not a gentle, peck-on-the-lips or cheek kiss. No. A deep and very passionate kiss. But this
was
Paris, and this show of affection
was
quite commonplace after all.
35
B
y the time I woke on Thursday morning, sharing the apartment with Worth had come to feel quite comfortable and familiar. I glanced up at the ceiling and recalled the previous evening when Worth had returned from dinner at his daughter's home. He said the visit had gone well, they'd enjoyed a nice dinner and exchanged Christmas gifts, and it was obvious that spending time with his grandchildren meant a lot to him. He had then surprised me by saying that Caroline had extended an invitation for us to join them on Saturday afternoon for coffee. I had wondered if Worth would even mention me to his daughter. I now knew that he had, but I also wondered whose idea it had been that we should meet.
I glanced at my watch and saw it was going on seven. After slipping on my robe, I headed to the bathroom and then out to the kitchen, where the strong aroma of coffee greeted me.
“Good morning,” Worth said, coming to place a kiss on my lips.
“Good morning,” I repeated and couldn't help but notice how sexy he looked with his hair a bit tousled, the hint of a five-o'clock shadow on his face, and jeans and a sweatshirt his outfit.
“Coffee?” he asked, going to pour me a mug from the French press.
“Thanks,” I said, taking a sip and heading to the sofa, where he joined me.
“I'm glad the dinner last night went well,” I told him.
He nodded. “Yeah, Caroline seemed to be in a fairly good mood. I know she's looking forward to their upcoming ski trip.”
He let out a deep sigh, causing me to turn my head toward him.
“You know, Marin, there's been something that I wanted to tell you. About Claire. About our relationship and marriage.”
When I remained silent, he went on.
“I'd explained that we met in college. Claire still had her senior year to finish up after I graduated. The new semester had only begun when she informed me that she was pregnant.”
So Claire had been pregnant with Caroline when they married. Not something that unusual, and I wondered why he felt the need to share this with me.
“I hated to see her drop out of college without getting her degree, but she insisted that we get married immediately. To be honest, although I certainly had feelings for her, those feelings weren't quite as strong as maybe they should have been to get married.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a sip of coffee. “What I'm trying to say is, had she not told me she was pregnant, I'm not sure our relationship would have continued much longer. I was beginning to see that Claire and I didn't have all that much in common. She was much more interested in status and an upscale lifestyle than I was. But . . .”
“But you did what you felt was the right thing and married her.”
He nodded. “Yeah. We had the very posh wedding that she insisted on. Claire came from money, and she was used to getting her way and reveling in the fact that she was always the envy of her friends. That meant a lot to her. Having the best.”
Not an uncommon trait in some women,
I thought. “But then Caroline was born and I'm sure your daughter made the marriage more solid.”
“That's just it,” Worth said. “Claire wasn't pregnant with Caroline when I married her. Caroline was her second pregnancy. She had a miscarriage a few weeks after we returned from our honeymoon. Well, at least she
said
it was a miscarriage.”
I shifted on the sofa to better see his face. “Are you saying she could have had an abortion?”
“Oh, no. No, I'm not saying that. But later I began to wonder if Claire had even been pregnant at all. I came home from work one afternoon and she calmly told me that she'd lost the baby. When I tried to take her to the hospital, she refused. She said she'd called the doctor and his instructions were to rest for a few days. That was it. I remember being quite surprised about her lack of grief and later wondered if my own sadness at the loss wasn't even necessary.”
I reached for his hand and entwined mine inside. “Hmm,” I said. “Well, she wouldn't be the first woman to try and hook a man with a false pregnancy, but then she did get pregnant with Caroline.”
He nodded. “Yeah, but she certainly didn't seem pleased when she discovered she was pregnant. Oh, don't get me wrong, she was a good mother, but I just don't think it was something she truly enjoyed, and of course, there were no more children.”
“Makes me wonder if we ever truly know somebody,” I said and thought of Andrew and how much I didn't know when we met and married.
“That's just it. Sometimes we don't really know somebody when we take those marriage vows, and over the years when we discover that we're not happy, we realize that we have two choices. We either stay and carry on, which many couples do. Or we decide being apart would give us more happiness than being together. Once Caroline was grown and on her own, I made the decision that separating was the best thing for both of us. Claire definitely was not happy, and we were living a charade in that huge house together.”
“Oh,” I said with surprise. “I didn't realize you were separated. I thought your marriage ended because she died.”
“That
is
how it ultimately ended. I had contacted my attorney, had everything arranged financially for a legal separation . . . and that was when Claire sprung it on me that she'd just been diagnosed with breast cancer. I'm ashamed to say that at first I had my doubts and wondered if this was simply another tactic to hold on to me, but no, she hadn't been lying. But she did beg me to stay with her. She said she couldn't get through any of it alone. And she was right; she couldn't. Claire always depended on others. So I stayed.”
I may not have known a lot about Andrew when I married him or even during our years together, but I knew for certain in that moment that there are extraordinary people we
do
know. People we instinctively understand. People we are in sync with and are connected to in ways that defy explanation. And I also knew that Worthington Slater was such a person to me, which also caused me to grasp the fact that although it wasn't planned, I had fallen in love with this man.
I shifted on the sofa, snuggling against his chest, and felt his arm go around me. “And so,” I said, “you stayed . . . and you did the
right
thing.”
 
We had spent the morning shopping for Toulouse, purchasing his travel case, a few toys, food, and anything else that Worth felt my new kitten might require.
He had suggested dinner at La Rotonde that evening. I loved Montparnasse and decided it was probably my favorite area of Paris. After dinner inside the restaurant we made our way to a table outside to enjoy coffee and cognac. Sitting there with Worth, once again I felt the ghosts of Hemingway and F. Scott surround me and I marveled at the fact that although it was such a cliché, I had managed to acknowledge the reality that here I was in Paris . . . and in love.
We took the Métro back to the apartment and Worth suggested a glass of wine. I kicked off my heels and settled myself on the sofa.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said, passing me my glass. “Here's to us . . . and all our tomorrows.”
“What beautiful words. I like the sound of that.” I took a sip and then smiled. “Another surprise?”
He got up and headed to the television, slipped a DVD into the player, returned beside me, and gave me the DVD box, causing me to laugh.
“Oh, my God! You are
such
a romantic!
Casablanca
?”
Worth smiled. “It's our favorite movie, right? I thought it might be appropriate to watch it here together.”
I moved into his arms for his kiss. There was no denying any longer that what I'd been feeling with Worth was pure desire, an emotion I hadn't felt in years and one that I thought might have entirely disappeared. But I now knew that it had simply been smoldering . . . waiting for Worth to reignite it.
I felt his tongue slip inside my mouth as our kiss deepened, and his hands moved down my back before gliding up to circle my breasts. I heard a moan escape me when his fingers trailed along my thigh to the inside of my leg. When he moved my panties aside and continued touching me, it was Worth's groan I heard, and it was a sound that turned me on even more.
Breathless with kissing, I allowed my own hand to touch his hardness and heard him gasp as he guided me down on the sofa to remove my clothes. Bracing himself above me, he looked into my eyes before his gaze slowly descended my body. I let out a deep breath, and when I saw a smile of approval cross his face, I felt every inch a woman, which heightened my desire.
Removing his own clothes, he positioned himself on top of me, snuggled his face in my neck, and whispered, “I love you, Marin. I've loved you from the first time I laid eyes on you at that fundraiser.”
I felt his kisses on my neck and whispered back, “I love you too, Worth. I
do
love you.”
His mouth found my breast before he said, with huskiness filling his voice, “God, I want you, Marin. I want you so bad.”
I nodded and knew my desire was reaching the ultimate as I said, “I want you too. Make love to me.”
Worth stood up, reached for my hand, and led me to the bedroom as Rick and Ilsa were falling in love. Rick's classic statement, “We'll always have Paris,” would be etched into my soul.
BOOK: Secrets on Cedar Key
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