Page 73 of When You Are Mine

“No.”

“Me neither. Come on.”

“What are you going to do?” She gripped the hand he used to pull her to her feet.

“The only thing Icando. Stay.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Kerris waited for the elevator doors to open, fidgeting with the bangle she wore, touching her river stone. She had finally started making a few pieces with the rocks she’d gathered from the river the last two years. Cam had complimented her on it this morning before they left for work.

He’d been disconcertingly sweet and gentle after that first night. He had not hurt her, not physically, but he had smudged her soul, leaving her feeling sullied and worthless. She and Cam had not spoken of it again. She remembered the sex they’d had. She couldn’t call it lovemaking. When he’d found his release, it was as if he’d emptied a stream of dark emotion into her body, and had also emptied his heart. She had lain there for long moments, afraid to even move. Finally he had wiped her cheeks free of leftover tears.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear, pulling the long dark hair over her naked shoulder and smoothing it down her back. “Did I hurt you?”

She’d shaken her head, but could find no words. He was like a madman she watched warily, afraid his emotional pendulum would swing back into a rage from the eerie calm. She’d held herself stiffly as he lifted her in his arms, walking to the bathroom. He’d put them both in the shower, leaning his back against the tiles, watching her, his eyes slowly clearing of the ominous clouds. She had stood under the warm stream of water, arms limply at her sides, awaiting his next move.

“It was just a kiss, right?” Cam had asked softly, reaching for the shampoo and massaging a dollop into her hair. “It didn’t mean anything, right?”

“It was just a kiss.” Kerris had nodded her head under his hands. She had wondered if he noticed that she couldn’t lie; couldn’t bring herself to say it hadn’t meant anything.

“Let’s forget about it.” In his voice she’d heard a warning and a yearning. A warning that it could never happen again, and a yearning that it never had. He’d stroked the wet hair back from her face. “Let’s wash it away and watch it go down the drain.”

They’d both bent their heads, watching the suds swirl out of sight. She’d known it was childish and even dysfunctional, how he wanted to handle it. To pretend it hadn’t happened, but she didn’t know another way to go forward, so she watched the soap disappear through the drain. She knew the selective amnesia didn’t extend to Walsh. She recognized that she wasn’t to mention his name, and she certainly couldn’t have any contact with him.

Thus the system they’d worked out to see Kristeene. Kerris walked out of the elevator toward Kristeene’s hospital room. Jo had broken the news to them. Kristeene’s illness, while heartbreaking, had actually brought Cam and Kerris closer. Cam was grappling with the thought of losing the woman who had been more of a mother to him than his own, and it left him vulnerable and needy. He’d turned to Kerris, and she’d been there for him.

She could only hope someone was there for Walsh, too.

It had been six weeks since the surgery to remove as much of the cancer as possible. Kristeene’s physician, Dr. Ravenscroft, had told them how badly the cancer had metastasized, its malignant tentacles stretching into the surrounding organs. Stomach cancer was one of the hardest to catch, and once as advanced as Kristeene’s, was hard to defeat. After surgery, chemotherapy, and even some radiation, Kerris could see in Kristeene’s eyes that she was tired of fighting. Her heart ached at the thought of that lady warrior vanquished by this merciless disease.

Kristeene had wasted away, declining so rapidly Kerris could barely believe the wraithlike figure sitting up in bed when she visited was the same fierce lady who had grilled her before awarding her the scholarship a few years ago.

Kerris, so absorbed by her own thoughts, didn’t look up until it was too late. She slammed into a beautifully scented woman leaving Kristeene’s room. The woman’s papers spilled onto the floor at their feet. They both dropped to their haunches, scrambling to gather everything.

“I’m so sorry,” Kerris said, steadily picking up papers.

“It’s okay.” The other woman smiled and tilted her head, studying Kerris’s face. “Kerris, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” Kerris studied the woman’s closely cropped auburn waves, smooth brown skin, and killer body. “And you’re?”

“Sorry. Trish McAvery. I’m Walsh’s assistant. He has a picture of you and your husband on his phone.”

“Oh, you’re working here, right?”

“Yeah, we’re using space in the foundation’s office while his mother is sick.” Trish rose to her full height. “But Walsh can work from just about anywhere. Between teleconferencing and Skype, we get it done. And he flies out at least once a week.”

“He’s not here, is he?”

Kerris primed herself to flee. She couldn’t chance seeing him, or being seen with him. She and Cam usually visited during the day when Jo assured them Walsh was at the office.

“No, he left about an hour ago. He forgot these papers and had a teleconference he couldn’t be late for, so he sent me back for them.”

“Are you staying in Rivermont while Walsh is working from here so much?”

“Yeah, I’ve relocated for the time being.” Trish grimaced her distaste.

“I guess it’s quite an adjustment, huh?” Kerris smiled at Trish’s face. “I mean, I guess Rivermont is really different from New York City.”

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