“Yes,” she whispered.
“I understand,” he said, having experienced the same thing. “How long did it last, before?”
“A few months.”
Obviously, it wasn’t anything she wanted to continue to talk about. Normally, he would share in that thought, but this morning he had something he needed to ask her about. Something he’d been tossing around in his mind for quite a while, but wasn’t sure how to broach.
“I need . . . I would like your opinion on something.” He balled his fist, as a way to get through the pain of talking about her.
“Really?” She snorted. “That’s a new one. I don’t remember you ever needing my opinion on anything before.”
Ouch.
“That’s because I’ve never done anything related to her,” he said.
“She has a name, you know.” Anger flashed in her eyes briefly. “Do you ever say it or even think it, or is she always just her to you?”
Her question took him aback. As he thought about it, he realized he hardly ever did say her name. In fact, the only time he could remember recently that he said it was in the hospital, after Andie’s boating accident.
“I say it,” he said. “Sometimes, though, it hurts too much.”
“I think it’s like a Band-Aid, just rip it off and do it. Eventually, it’ll get easier and easier.”
But he didn’t want it to get easier. He needed the pain, he welcomed the pain. The pain reminded him of what he had done, it never let him forget. He had never been able to explain that to his therapist, so he doubted he could get Marie to understand either.
“I’ll try. I promise.”
That seemed to make her happy or at least she didn’t have the anger in her eyes anymore.
“So what did you want to ask me?”
He took a deep breath. “The cottage on Cannon Beach? I’ve wondered for a long time what to do with it. Should I sell it? Rent it out?” He shook his head. “I’ve been at a total loss as to what to do with the property. But I think I know, and I want your opinion.”
Next to him, she had been the person closest to Winnie. In many ways, she was actually the closest person to her. Winnie had been an only child and both of her parents had died when she was a teenager. Marie had been a close friend since they were young. He wondered what secrets Marie had that she’d never shared.
“You have an idea for the property?” she asked.
“Yes. I can’t sell it. I know that much. And I don’t want to rent it out. I just can’t imagine anybody else living there. I’m not going to live there. But it seems a waste to have such a nice piece of property sit empty.”
The entire time he’d been talking, Marie had been nodding along with him. In agreement with everything he had said. He wished it was lighter outside, so he could see her expression when he finished what he was going to say.
“I thought, maybe, I could turn it into something for the community, an art center. With classes and courses for anyone of any age and at any level. Maybe even have an art gallery. I don’t know. It could have her name, that way it’d be like she was giving back to the community.”
Marie was silent. He wasn’t even sure she had moved a muscle since he’d started talking. The silence grew to be too much, so he rushed on.
“I know it would take a lot of work and I’d have to hire staff. I’m here all the time, so I couldn’t oversee it. But I think . . . I think it could work. The property would need some restoration and renovation. It’s been sitting empty for too long.” He took a deep breath. “So that’s it. That’s what I was thinking.”
Again, nothing except complete silence from Marie. She hated the idea. She must. Why else would she just be sitting there, saying nothing?
“If you don’t think it’s a good idea or if you can think of something else to do with the property . . .”
She sniffled. Very quietly, but it was definitely a sniffle.
“Marie?” he whispered.
And then it wasn’t a sniffle, but a full-fledged sob. He wasn’t sure why she was crying. He hated it when she cried. Did that mean she hated the idea?
He cleared his throat to say something, but he forgot what it was, because the next thing he knew, Marie had launched herself out of her chair and was practically in his lap, wrapping her arms around him.
“Lennox,” she said. “It’s the most perfect idea. I love it and I know Winnie would have loved it, too.”
She liked it? That’s why she was crying? But no, now that he knew she liked it, he could hear the smile in her sobs. And with her practically in his lap with her arms around him, it was the most natural thing in the world to return her hug.
It’d been too long since he’d held a woman. Sure, he had danced at the end-of-session balls a few times, but that was structured and in a public setting. Plus, it normally involved students. Marie was not a student, and though they were outside where anyone could see them, he was pretty sure they were the only two people awake on the island at the moment.
Most importantly, there was nothing the least bit structured about the way his hand moved up her back so he could tangle his fingers in her hair. Or the way he dropped his head to her neck in order to smell her skin.
And pressing his lips to the spot just under her ear, to see if she’d tremble? Definitely not structured. Though by that time, he didn’t care because she had trembled at his kiss and he wanted to make her do it again.
In the back of his mind, he told himself this was Marie and he’d kept his distance from her for all these years for a reason. He just couldn’t remember what those reasons were at the moment. Not when she was so soft and inviting. He pulled back for a minute, but didn’t release her hair. He couldn’t. It was so silky, and it’d been so long since he’d had his fingers buried in a woman’s hair.
She stared at him with a dazed look, but he saw the hunger she couldn’t hide and he knew she wanted this just as much as he did. His gaze dropped to her lips, so full. What would they taste like? For years, he’d refused to think about her lips, because he knew as soon as he did, he’d have to taste them.
She gave a slight whimper as he lowered his head. He wondered if she’d been curious about how he tasted, too. He told himself it would only be a quick kiss. Just a small sample to satisfy his need for her.
But as soon as their lips touched, any thoughts of a quick kiss disappeared. She pulled him close and he palmed her back, while keeping her in place with the hand in her hair. His last kiss had been with Winnie and kissing her was nothing like kissing Marie.
Winnie had been refined and controlled, and toward the end, she didn’t even want to kiss. Marie was her polar opposite. She kissed as if she’d never have another kiss and she wanted this one to be enough to last forever.
She teased him with her tongue and moaned when he parted his lips to deepen the kiss. He was vaguely aware of her hands clasping him tightly, but he didn’t care because in that moment, he never wanted to let her go.
Kissing Marie was better than any fantasy he could have imagined and she tasted sweeter than anything he had a right to experience. She shifted to get closer and, in doing so, she pressed against his erection.
And with that one touch, every reason he’d ever had for keeping Marie at arms length fell on him with the weight of a fifty-pound rock. She was everything he could never have, and to be kissing her the way he was gave her the wrong impression.
He pulled back, amid her protests.
“Marie, we can’t.”
“I think we just did.”
He moved her off his lap and onto her feet. “Then we can’t do it again.”
“Tell me why.” She spoke softly, and he hated the hint of hurt in her voice. “Why we can’t when it’s obvious we both want it.”
Because of a million reasons, he wanted to say. But how could he explain that he could never be the Dom she needed? If he knew one thing after working with Marie for all these years, he knew she would never be satisfied without kink.
In a bitter and ironic twist, it mirrored his relationship with Winnie, and that had proven that no good could come from trying to become something you’re not.
“Because it won’t work,” he said. “That’s why. We might be happy for a bit, but it wouldn’t last.”
Already, he could sense her shutting herself off. She pulled her coat tighter around her body. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that unless we try.”
“I’m not going to try with you, Marie.”