Behind the Green Curtain (38 page)

“So do I,” Caton responded, looking
strangely relieved as her warm palm caressed the chilled skin of Amelia’s back.

“But I don’t need it.” Amelia
wanted to make the point clear. “If you don’t want to deal with the money, I
can tear this up right now and it just disappears forever.”

Peeling the paper from the notepad,
ready to make it go away at Caton’s command, Amelia stopped only when Caton grabbed
her hands. “Maybe we should hang onto it,” Caton suggested.

Grin pulling at her lips, Amelia
tossed the notepad onto the nightstand, interest in everything else diminishing
as she shifted closer to Caton.

“We could keep just a little
extra,” she tempted. Finger trailing down Caton’s chest, she dragged the covers
out of the way, delighting at how she could still make Caton tremble with the
simplest of touches. “Enough that we can go wherever we want, do whatever we
want. Would that make us horrible people?”

God knew there were those amongst
the “charitable” donors she’d dealt with over the years who deserved to have
their money stolen, and, with her hands on the money, the charities would get
more back than they would ever have gotten from Jack. Maybe she’d even start
her own charity, take the skills she had unknowingly used to make Jack richer
and put them to good use.

“No,” Caton replied, but when she
reached out to stop Amelia’s hand, her expression was far grimmer than Amelia
would have liked. “Are you sure about this, Amelia?” she questioned, and Amelia
felt her happiness hanging by a thread. “This is your chance to start over. You
could have a new life. No past entanglements. No one you feel like you can’t
trust.”

Watching the shadows fall across Caton’s
face, Amelia wondered how many times she would have to forgive Caton before
Caton forgave herself. “Or I can trust you,” she stated. “I can trust you,
can’t I, Caton?

Though she looked slightly pained
by the question, Caton nodded, and Amelia believed her, as senseless and risky
as it might be.

“Aren’t you angry?” Caton asked.

Over the past months, Amelia had
unleashed so many internal tirades at Caton she’d lost track of them. Caton had
been candid when she wanted to be, leading Amelia to the erroneous belief she
had no secrets, only for Amelia to be reminded that everyone had secrets and one
could only know someone to the extent the person wanted to be known.

Gaze breaking from Caton’s to sweep
down her body, where she had found so many pleasures - and more - Amelia knew
it was worth the risk. Lifting the covers, she slid down next to Caton. There
was truth there, at least.

“I have spent my entire adult life
doing what I thought I needed to do and resenting it,” she responded. “Now, I
want what I want. I don’t want to be angry.”

Skin caressing skin, it occurred to
Amelia it was as much a matter of need as desire. All the money in the world,
and she couldn’t imagine living without the look in Caton’s eyes, the way
Caton’s body strove to make contact, the feel of Caton’s lips against her
throat before they trailed across her jaw to meet her own. With Caton, she
could live without the money. She wasn’t sure she wanted to endure life the
other way around.

When Caton’s lips broke from hers
and her head fell back to the pillow, Amelia could barely see her. Hair
tumbling around her shoulders, it hung like a curtain, casting them both into
darkness, until, hands rising to Amelia’s face, Caton pushed it back and let
the light in.

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