Page 38 of Vincent
When he bounded down the steps and got into the car, she waved. Closing the door, she simply slid onto the floor and wept.
Chapter 9
He made it work. Had to. After he left her that night to go and pick up his son, it hit him full force that he was torn. Several times during the return journey, he had been tempted to turn the car around and go back to her.
The drive to Lizzie's parents' home had been filled with torturous questions and internal back and forth as he wondered what had happened to wipe away even the image of his dead lover from him. He already knew the answer to that. It was her. Althea had done what no one had ever managed to accomplish. She had rid him of the nightmares and the constant pain of losing the woman he loved.
She consumed him. And by God, it wasn't just the sex. The sex was so amazing, he found himself grinning and getting hard just thinking of it. It was more than that. She was a fireball. They could talk; that had never been an issue between them, and after years apart, they still had that magic.
She was witty and vivacious. She could always draw him out. He could tell her anything, without fear of being judged or found lacking.
But seeing Lizzie's parents had been a blow to his solar plexus. They looked drawn and old. Their daughter's death had put a hole in them that had never been filled. They had a son and of course a daughter-in-law and two grandchildren aside fromDavid, but Lizzie had been special to them. She had been their only daughter.
And he had been the one to take her away from them.
Seeing them face to face always made him feel like a monster. He was a father, and as such, he knew what it was like to love a child to the very depths of his being. He did not think he would survive losing David. It would destroy him.
He felt their pain, and in the past could relate to it. Now it was different. He was no longer plagued by the debilitating grief that held him by the throat for years.
That had been replaced by something indefinable. Something he did not dare put a name to. He had spent just one weekend with her, and it was mind-blowing.
So, he was eager to drive away from Lizzie's parents, so he did not have to look at their faces and see the hurt and pain of losing their daughter.
But the guilt followed him home. Not even his son's constant chatter could ease it.
After tucking David into bed and reading him two stories (the boy had a way of getting his own way!), and then climbing into his own bed with a finger of scotch, he could not stop thinking about Thea. He could not stop enumerating the many times he had climaxed or the pleasures he had found just exploring her delectable body. Not to mention the ways she had made him laugh.
He also recalled how angry she had been when he suggested they see each other in secret. He remembered the flashing magnificence of her mahogany brown eyes and the way she had fisted her hands on her hips.
She had always had a terrific temper, he recalled wryly. Finishing the drink, he settled back on the pillows and closed his eyes. He could still feel the texture of her satiny skin; the honeyed taste of her mouth was still with him. Cutting off a groan and realizing that thinking about their time together was a surefire way of not getting any sleep, he cast his mind on something else. It was then that his eyes caught sight of the framed photo of Lizzie on the dresser.
His gut clenched as he stared at the laughing profile. The picture had been taken two months after she discovered she was pregnant. They had both gone to the doctor to confirm after she suspected, and the news had been scary as well as exciting. He had celebrated with her by taking her to lunch at an uptown diner. He had captured her beneath the striped umbrella at the outdoor diner, surrounded by oleanders and lily of the valley.She had her chin propped on her cupped hands, her blue eyes laughing at him, blonde hair blowing in the breeze.
The teal blue dress she had on had a dramatic effect on her alabaster skin. She had such delicate skin, he mused achingly. Climbing off the bed, he strode over to the dresser to pick up the frame. His fingers traced the outline of her fine-boned face slowly as he felt the piercing regret of one gone too soon. She had been so happy that day, declaring that she hoped he still loved her when she got as big as a house and started eating everything.
He had laughingly assured her that even if she started to have gross cravings, he would try and endure the indignity, and he was going to be there to hold her hair while she puked.
Had he kept his promises? he wondered. Business had taken a chunk out of him. He had taken over the company on his father's demise, and it had been hectic. Theirs was a company that had grown steadily over the years. It was a diversified company, which meant that they had different things going on. He had proposed to her of course, after hearing the news, but she had wanted to wait until she had the baby and got rid of "her baby fat," as she called it.
Putting back the photo, he hesitated before picking it up again and sliding it into one of the drawers. David had a full-size framed picture of her in his room. And there was a photo album in the library with tons depicting her life over the years.
He did not dare question the need to put her photo away. Part of it was guilt; the other was the conflicting feelings inside him. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes briefly, and before he could change his mind, he reached for his phone.
She answered immediately as if she had been expecting his call.
"You should be sleeping," he chided.
"I could say the same about you," she countered.
Just hearing the husky tone of her voice was enough to drive him out of his mind.
"How's David?"
"Excited about his adventures. I had a difficult time getting him to go to sleep. Had to read him two stories."
"He knows you're a sucker, so he played you."
"Hey!" He grinned when she burst out laughing. "You're right, of course. Why aren't you sleeping?"
