Unbreak My Heart (Childhood Sweethearts Reunited) (4 page)

"You've what?" His relief was so intense it hurt. He had to laugh to ease the tension. "No doubt this violates your artistic integrity."

Her eyes narrowed. "You think it's funny, don't you."

"No, I think it's enterprising. But you should see the look on your face. You had me imagining all sorts of things. What's so terrible about painting pet portraits?"

"It's just, well…I don't know, embarrassing I suppose. And I have to work from photographs. No real artist paints from a photo. You lose perspective with a flat image."

"Does it pay well?"

"Pretty well."

"Stop beating yourself up about it then. I'm proud of your ingenuity." She had always underestimated herself. She was brilliant at creative problem solving and coming up with original ideas. "You should have more faith in yourself."

It probably didn't help that she'd been knocked back so much when she was young. Her parents had lived in a commune before they worked for Andre's grandfather, and other children picked on her because she was different. It still made him angry, but not as angry as he was with his own father for how he'd looked down on her. Or with himself for hurting her, but he quickly shut down that memory.

Andre walked on, turning right at the gnarled old rhododendron bush that had once, long ago, hidden the entrance to their fort. Kate hurried to catch up.

"Where are we going? There's nothing down here."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Yes, there is. Think." Normally, he discouraged people from visiting his cottage. It was his sanctuary. But his heart rate picked up at the thought of showing Kate the place. It was years since they'd planned to renovate what had been little more than a heap of rocks. The sketches they'd drawn had been lost long ago, but he'd tried to stick to their vision.

Would she remember the marriage stone they'd made all those years ago, when they were childishly certain they would be together for the rest of their lives? It had taken hours to chip their initials into the piece of granite with a hammer and chisel. Andre couldn't let all that work go to waste, so he'd laid the stone in the cottage wall as they'd planned. It had been a daft, sentimental thing to do. He was grateful the rose over the porch concealed it.

They rounded a bend, and the path opened out into a clearing. Andre unlatched the small gate marked 'Private' that led into his garden and stepped aside for Kate to enter.

***

Kate halted at the edge of a neatly trimmed lawn and stared at the cottage agog. It used to be tumbledown with huge holes in the roof and birds nesting under the eaves. Now it looked like a picture postcard. A narrow border underneath the windows overflowed with lupines, forget-me-nots, and chrysanthemums. Clematis climbed the wall, its purple flowers glowing in the evening sun. A thick rambling rose covered with sweetly scented, pink flowers clung to the small porch around the front door.

Kate turned to Andre, her eyes wide. "You had it renovated!"

He crooked an eyebrow at her and laughed. "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

She walked to the porch and laid her hand against the sun-warmed granite. When they were young, they'd planned to marry and live here together. "It's exactly as we imagined," she said in a voice breathy with longing for what might have been.

Andre turned away and the silence dropped between them like a wall cutting off the past, cutting off the friendship and love they had once shared. He obviously didn't want to be reminded of what might have been. She must be careful what she said.

"It's so peaceful," she offered. "It must be nice for you to get away from all the people at the hotel." She was willing to bet that underneath the smart suit a part of the old Andre still remained, a part that would value this quiet time alone.

"Exactly," he said.

"I've been longing for somewhere safe and peaceful so I can get to know Keiko properly. This is perfect. It's perfect…" Her voice trailed away into silence.

Andre turned to her, small creases between his eyebrows. He flicked his gaze down to Keiko snuggled in her arms. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what is there to get to know? Don't babies just eat and sleep? I barely noticed my two nephews until they started to walk."

Kate knew what he meant. It was impossible to comprehend how complex a baby could be, until you had one. She touched his sleeve. "Wait until you have your own. Then you'll understand."

"Don't hold your breath waiting for that to happen," he said brusquely. "I'm too busy to get married and have a family." He unlocked the blue wooden door and pushed it open. "Come on, I'll show you around."

Andre led her through the cottage and she trailed after him mute with emotion, noting how closely he'd followed their long ago plans. She touched the small leaded windows, laid her palm on the polished oak sideboard scented with lavender beeswax, traced the finely turned grooves in the stair spindles with her fingers. He had restored the large open fireplace in the lounge and the original flagstone floor in the kitchen. Natural linen curtains matched the covers on the sofa and chairs. Dark wood end tables bordered the suite, and an antique oak writing desk sat in the corner.

Kate stood in the center of the small sitting room and turned a slow circle, a hollow pit of sadness inside her. Where were Andre's books? Had he changed so much he'd lost that part of himself completely? As a youngster, his bedroom overflowed with magazines, books, and folders containing his research. But one thing she saw gave her hope the Andre of old still existed. The alcoves on either side of the fireplace had been fitted with backlit glass shelves and overflowed with dragons of every shape, size, and color.

She bent to examine them, but Andre took her elbow and propelled her toward the stairs. "Come on, no time for that now. I need to show you your room."

The guest bedroom was very blue and obviously rarely used. Over the bed hung a picture of blue and yellow parrots, with paint so thick she wanted to run her fingers across the brush marks. The bed had an intricately carved oak headboard, and a handmade quilt worked from hundreds of snippets of material, each a different pattern and shade of blue.

"Does it meet with your approval?"

Kate gave Andre a satisfied smile and put Keiko on the bed. "You know it does."

He checked his watch and sighed. "I have to return to the hotel for a business engagement. It's a pain, but it's too late to reschedule." He glanced down at Keiko lying on the bed. "I'll get someone to bring over a baby's crib for you. I expect you'd like to take it easy so I'll have your dinner delivered as well. Unpack, and make yourself at home." He smoothed his hand over his hair and glanced around the room. "Anything else you need?"

Kate followed his gaze and shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Okay then, see you tomorrow."

Once Andre left, Kate collapsed on the bed and curled around her baby, inhaling the soft, comforting smell of her hair. She stroked her finger along Keiko's eyebrows, down her nose, and across the perfect pink flush of her cheek. "It's just you and me now, sweet pea." Peace at last.

She rested her face against her baby's head, closed her eyes, and played back the last six weeks in her mind. Anger and fear framed her memories, waking at night to find the ginger-haired photographer peering in the window of her caravan, then arriving at her mother's, only to be turned away by her stepfather. Now that she was safe, she could admit how desperate she'd been. Desperate enough to run back to the boy she'd loved. But he was also the boy who'd broken her heart, the boy who'd hurt her so deeply the wound had never healed.

Tears filled her eyes and she sobbed, crying with anger and frustration and hurt over how Dan had treated her, over how Andre had rejected her all those years ago. They had wanted her to start with, but in the end she was not good enough for either of them. Andre's father, Robert Le Court, told her she was a bad influence on Andre, that she'd drag him down to her level. Now her sweet, innocent little Keiko would be treated the same way. Already her daddy had rejected her.

Being here at the Caspian was bittersweet. Memories flooded her mind—some she had banished for years. Times Andre's father had threatened her, times she had been bullied and taunted at school. The day Eric Tierman pulled her off her bike and grazed her knees and elbows. When Andre found out, he'd gone crazy. She'd pleaded with him to let it go, but he'd tracked Eric down. They'd fought, and—older and bigger—Eric had broken Andre's arm. Kate had only been ten and terrified Andre would die.

A few hours later, Kate woke to darkness, her eyes gritty from crying. A hotel porter was knocking on the front door with the crib and her dinner. She wasn't hungry and had to force herself to eat something for her baby's sake.

After Kate fed Keiko, she wandered around the cottage and spent a long time examining the dragons. Eight of Andre's collection had been her gifts, and one of them was special. She picked up the clay model and cradled it in her hands. She'd made it at school in pottery class. Andre was reading
The Hobbit
at the time and he became obsessed with dragons. In true Andre fashion, he researched them. He had folders full of notes that she illustrated. She could still remember sitting on the damp earth under the rhododendrons as Andre unwrapped this dragon, the start of his collection. It held a small bowl of melted red glass that looked like blood. He'd loved it.

She turned the ornament over. It was unevenly glazed and out of proportion. As Kate placed it back on the shelf next to the hand painted bone china and crystal figures, and the individually designed metal sculptures, she couldn't believe he'd kept her childhood gift all these years.

Her breath caught, but she refused to let herself cry again. She needed to get away from these memories, out in the fresh air. She put Keiko in her baby sling and went out in the garden. The night smelled of the woods, mown grass, and the scent of flowers, ripe, rich, and summery.

Kate slipped off her sandals and walked across the lawn letting the cool dew coat her feet. A faint hum of music came from the hotel, and she could see lights dancing between the leaves like fireflies. Suddenly she heard the rustle and snap of breaking branches. A bobbing light appeared, a flashlight being carried through the trees. Her whole body tensed and Keiko shifted restlessly. It would be the ginger-haired photographer—she just knew it. He'd probably bribed a member of the hotel staff to tell him where she was.

She chose a path toward the rear of the hotel and hurried, guided by the small lights dotted along the route. It took her past the swimming pool and through the topiary, where huge animal-shaped bushes loomed out of the darkness. Finally, she arrived at the steps to the terrace that ran along the back of the manor house.

Kate paused in the shadows to catch her breath, relieved to be near people. But she didn't want to go on the terrace and mix with them. The sort of guests who stayed at the Caspian were the type who looked down their noses at her, and some of them had witnessed her argument in the lobby with the photographers.

She recognized Andre immediately even though he had his back to her. He picked up a glass and sat on the stone balustrade edging the terrace. His dark shirt stood out against the lights, his back a perfect masculine triangle, tapering from broad shoulders to narrow hips.

He checked his watch and tapped his fingers on the stone impatiently. Kate had just decided to go up to see him when a slender woman with long, dark hair, and a red sheath dress appeared. Andre handed her a glass and she perched on the balustrade beside him. She angled her head intimately close to Andre's, her silky hair sliding against his arm.

Kate stepped back into the shadows, her heart thumping with shock. Was this really a business meeting? Andre obviously knew the woman well. Strangely, it hadn't occurred to Kate that he might have a girlfriend who would object to Kate appearing in his life again. He'd not shown much interest in girls when they were younger, apart from her. But of course a man like Andre would have a woman in his life. He was attractive and wealthy; he probably had glamorous women lining up to go out with him just like his father had. The thought depressed her.

Keiko must have picked up on Kate's tension as she started to snuffle. Kate glanced down in horror as her baby issued a louder cry. Stroking Keiko's head, she whispered soothing words, praying she would quiet before Andre heard her. It would be mortifying to be caught spying on him and his girlfriend, if that's what the woman was. Andre turned, and both he and his companion stared into the darkness.

Gradually Keiko responded to Kate's voice and settled again. But the damage was done. Andre cupped his hands around his mouth and called, "Kat, is that you?" She winced. He walked to the top of the terrace steps and called again. A number of other people were looking her way as well now. She was going to make a spectacle of herself again. Her breath rushed out on a frustrated sigh. No way was she going back to the cottage alone after seeing the flashlight in the woods. She braced herself and stepped forward into the pool of light at the bottom of the terrace.

Andre ran down the steps and greeted her with an enthusiastic smile. "Wonderful timing," he whispered and slipped his arm around her shoulders. He brushed his lips across her cheek. "Sorry I've been so long you had to come looking for me." Kate's brain was busy dealing with the tingling sensation where Andre kissed her, and it took her a moment to catch on. "I need rescuing," he added under his breath.