A Defender's Heart. Tara Taylor Quinn

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      He took a sip of wine. “I have to admit, I’m relieved to hear that.”

      “But I can’t be engaged to you right now.”

      He looked out at the ocean, and then back at her. He studied her. She studied him, too, willing him to see inside her. To know how sincerely she wanted to marry him.

      “I’m feeling all kinds of negative things, Charles. I’m doubting myself. Not my feelings for you, or my desire to marry you, but things that go...deeper than that.”

      “You still have feelings for Cedar.” He sounded as though he’d been expecting as much.

      “No!” Why did everyone keep accusing her of that? “At least, not in the way you mean. I shudder—with fear—at the very idea of being with him again.” She took a deep breath, stilling those shudders. “But seeing him again, it was like an episode of what I’d call a very mild and temporary case of the past coming back to haunt me. I’m not myself.”

      He waited.

      She had to finish.

      Or begin.

      “Saturday night, as I was telling Cedar goodbye, I agreed to see him.”

      Charles’s chin dropped to his chest.

      “Not like that!” she quickly reassured him, waiting until he looked back up. “I swear to you, it wasn’t like that at all.” She could look him straight in the eye on that one. “He said he had a business situation to discuss with me. He was certain I’d want to know about it...”

      “Of course he did. He wants you back.”

      No. No, he didn’t. And even if he did...just, no.

      She shook her head. “I felt he was being completely straightforward.” When he’d made the request. Not earlier, in the kitchen, when he’d been about to kiss her.

      And she’d been about to let him.

      A reflexive response, due in part to the shock of seeing him. Since she’d already labeled him a no-show and was no longer expecting that he’d be there.

      “As it turns out, he was—being straightforward, that is.”

      Charles’s gaze narrowed. “You met with him, then?”

      She and Charles had been together most of the day on Sunday, roaming around at an art fair, stopping at a local wine-tasting. Having dinner...

      She nodded. “Today. For lunch. Or rather, during my lunch break. I didn’t actually eat lunch with him.”

      That detail seemed to matter to her a lot. She’d mentioned it to Raine, too.

      Although she’d eaten the salad he’d brought. Like he’d said, it was her favorite. He’d paid good money for it. And she’d needed to eat.

      Sitting forward, his elbows on his knees, Charles pursed his lips and glanced toward the ocean again. His hands weren’t clasped, leaving his body language open. He wasn’t completely writing her off yet.

      “I should’ve told you Saturday night when he asked, or Sunday, even.”

      He looked back at her. Nodded.

      She’d disappointed him. She hated that. He didn’t deserve it.

      “And that’s part of the problem,” she said, standing straighter. When she’d promised to marry him, she hadn’t realized she couldn’t. And she’d allowed a party to celebrate their engagement, with no idea that she wouldn’t be able to go through with it. But she’d purposely withheld information from him...and that was inexcusable.

      “I was afraid of your reaction, afraid you’d think what you seem to be thinking—that I’d still have feelings for Cedar. I wanted to find out what he wanted before I told you about it...”

      “And now that you know, you’re telling me.” He sat back, lifted his ankle to his knee again and drank some wine, watching her.

      “Yes.” Sort of.

      “I want to hear about it, of course, about whatever business he had that still interests you, but I have a more pertinent question first.”

      A feeling of dread ran through her. “What?”

      “How could you possibly be afraid of my reaction? Have I ever...ever...given you cause to fear me? Or reacted in such a way that made you feel unsafe coming to me?” He seemed honestly perplexed.

      “No, you haven’t,” she told him, feeling stronger in her purpose by the second. This was why Raine had been so concerned. She knew Heather wasn’t acting in a healthy manner. Or reacting in one.

      “It’s me, Charles. I’m not emotionally healthy enough right now for a committed relationship. I overreacted totally. My fear of telling you about Cedar was irrational. And I was over-the-top with him, too. I was far ruder to him than I should’ve been, considering that I not only opened the door that he’d kept shut between us—out of respect—by inviting him to our party. And then by agreeing to meet with him.”

      “Maybe you need to consider why you did either of those things.”

      “I know why I did them.” She didn’t waver, although she was getting frustrated with having to continue trying to get anyone to understand her on this. “I did them because I know I’m over him. Because I also know that if he’s still in town, we’re bound to run into each other. Our fields tend to cross. It’s kind of surprising that they haven’t already over the past year.”

      “Maybe he purposely stayed out of your way.”

      “Maybe.” But the past year didn’t matter right now. “The point is, I was certain I’d be able to see him and that our encounter would be...empty...at best. I was hoping for a distant friendliness between acquaintances.”

      Or some such thing. She and Cedar had a ton of shared memories. He was bound to creep into her mind now and then through the years. She’d like to know he was okay.

      As long as it was from a distance.

      “You said you were hoping as though that’s not what happened.”

      There he was again, implying she had feelings for Cedar. Anger shot up within her, and just as quickly died.

      “Seeing him brought up all kinds of self-doubt,” she told him. “Before Cedar’s betrayal, I didn’t question my own mind. I trusted my thoughts and feelings—and then, when I’d realized how easily he’d duped me, I didn’t trust my own mind. I started to question what I really knew and what I only thought I saw. My mind was playing tricks on me. I doubted my ability to see things as they really were. Feared that I couldn’t discern. It was horrible at first. I went through counseling, as you know, and haven’t had a problem for months. Now, though, it’s back. Maybe worse than ever because there’s no grief to overtake everything else like there was then...”

      “You СКАЧАТЬ