It had been four years since that disaster, four years of pain, but she’d thought her heart was finally immune to any kind of hurt. But not so. Although she’d put Garrick’s betrayal behind her and although her love for him had grown cold she knew now that when it came to the healing of the heart, it was not that easy.
She sniffed, fighting to hold back the tears and the music stopped in that same breath.
Jake turned, a look of concern on his face. “Are you alright?”
Unable to speak, she bit her lip and nodded, praying he would just turn back to the piano and play. Oh God, please don’t let me cry. She would die of embarrassment if she broke down in front of Jake. But the more she pleaded, the more the tears welled up until they spilled over onto one cheek and then the other.
“What the devil?” Jake hopped up off the stool and in one stride he was standing in front of her. He pulled out a handkerchief and in a surprising show of gentleness, he reached out to dab at her damp cheeks.
Sam looked up at him in misty-eyed wonder. Was this the same man who’d been so cold just moments before? Trembling, she reached up to still his hand then she slipped the hanky from his fingers and dabbed at her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice a mere whisper. “I…don’t know what came over me.”
“Come,” he said and put an arm on her shoulder. “Have a seat.”
He directed her to the piano bench where he sat down and pulled her down beside him. Then with a sigh he pulled her close until her head was resting on his shoulder. As they sat he stroked her arm, not saying a word, but somehow giving her a comfort that made words unnecessary. Somehow, he understood her pain. She could feel it. It was as if, like her, he was dealing with pain of his own.
After a moment Sam felt Jake move. He shifted on the stool and his arms tightened around her. She could feel it coming. He was going to kiss her.
And she welcomed it. She held her breath and closed her eyes in anticipation.
But nothing happened.
Confused, she peeped out and saw that Jake was frowning. He was staring straight ahead and the somber look was back.
Without warning he released her, got up and walked across the room. It was as if he wanted to put as much distance as possible between them. He cleared his throat then turned to face her. “Well, you’ve seen all the rooms so I guess that’s it. I expect you’ll start working on a preliminary budget.”
Sam felt her heart sink. He was dismissing her, just like that. Dazed, she stood up and clasped her hands in front of her. Then she nodded. “I…I’ll get back to you.” Then she added, “Thank you.” And she walked out of the room, leaving him standing there watching her in stony-faced silence.
Sam left Jake’s house that day confused and humiliated. And she wasn’t quite sure if she ever wanted to see him again.
******
Damn idiot. Jake slapped his palm against his forehead and turned back to the window. He’d watched Sam walk out of the room, knowing he’d upset her, and still he’d let her leave. But what else could he have done?
The darned woman had totally upset his plan. He’d cooked up this grand scheme to get her to come back to his house, inviting her this time as an interior decorator. Of course he needed the help but the truth was, that hadn’t been his primary reason for engaging her services. He’d just wanted an excuse to see her again. And again.
But then he’d had a change of heart. After all, what right did he have to be happy? He’d decided three years ago that he would never be happy again. Not without Jessica.
When he met Sam he'd had a momentary lapse, forgetting that vow he’d made. Even in her work clothes he’d been captivated by her. He’d accepted her offer to come back and help him clean simply because he wanted to see her again. But then he realized he had an even better excuse – she could help him decorate the house.
But that morning as he waited for her to arrive he recognized what he had done. He’d been bewitched by a beautiful woman but now he had to resist her. It hadn’t helped that she showed up on his doorstep looking fresh and feminine in a blouse that showed off her creamy shoulders and a skirt that accentuated her narrow waist. And this time she’d exposed those dainty feet in sandals with straps that drew attention to her slim calves. The dark, waist-length hair he’d admired the day before fell in soft waves around her face and down her back. At the sight of her he knew he was in trouble. If he wasn’t careful he’d succumb to her spell and then he would be lost.
And that was why he’d pulled back, concealing the fact that he was thrilled to see her, hiding behind a cold exterior.
But now, in protecting himself he’d hurt a woman who was innocent of any wrong. Frustrated, he walked out of the house, slamming the back door behind him, and headed across the bridge toward his writing studio. As he walked he mumbled under his breath.
What an irony that he’d left Long Island and moved all the way upstate to this little town to escape the world and the women who now saw him as an available bachelor, only to find that he’d fallen into a trap of his own making.
He’d almost reached the end of the bridge when he slowed and stopped. Resting his elbows on the wooden beams he looked over into the bubbling stream. And he thought about Jessica. Spontaneous and saucy Jessica. For seven years she’d been the other piece that made his life whole. She’d been his muse, encouraging him to write even during those times when he doubted himself. She’d been there when he made his first sale, when it hit the New York Times Bestseller List, when he made his first million. And when, after six more bestsellers he’d been declared one of the world's few billionaire authors, she’d been the one who kept him grounded, making sure the money and fame did not derail his passion or his drive to churn out more books.
After that turning point they’d had eleven wonderful months together. And then disaster struck. And it had been all his fault.
Jake shook his head and straightened. He did not want to think about it. He couldn’t take the hurt. Not right now.
He turned and finished crossing the bridge. As he walked toward his gallery a plan formed in his mind. There was one thing he knew would be guaranteed to preserve his heart and his life. He’d be doing Samantha a favor by drawing for this wild card. It would hurt but it was the only way to preserve his sanity.