“Port. That is all that was in the cabinet.”
“I don’t think—”
“Kate, drink it.” He wasn’t stern and yet he had a tone that warned her he expected to be obeyed. She’d used that tone several times herself.
She took the glass, gave it a sniff, and sipped the heavy liquor.
“More,” he ordered.
She mugged a frown. His response was a nod of his head that she was expected to take it all in.
Closing her eyes, Kate downed it. She lay back. The heavy wine seemed to flow right to her belly. There was a moment of intense heat and then a gradual warmth spread to the rest of her.
“Good?” he asked.
She opened her eyes and glanced at that portion of Brandon’s breeches that should have been quite tight from his erection. He noticed. A deprecating half grin twisted his mouth.
“Is he completely gone?” she asked.
Brandon shrugged. “Let’s say he is hopefully lingering off stage.”
The description startled a giggle from her. She covered her mouth with one hand in embarrassment and then was horrified as that giggle changed into a sob, followed by another.
Before she understood what was happening, she was bending over, lost in deep, humiliating tears.
Brandon climbed up to the headboard to sit next to her. “Kate, what is wrong?”
She put out a hand to block him from touching her, unable to speak. She also didn’t have an explanation. A tumult of feelings had overtaken her.
“Is it me, Kate?”
She shook her head. She didn’t understand herself.
This time when he offered his arms, she fell into them, burying her face against his chest and letting the tears flow. She gasped for breath, trying to control them, and failed.
“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Kate. You can trust me.”
Trust? She didn’t think she knew what that word meant.
Then again, he was right. She was tired of being in control. Exhausted by things so deep inside of her, she’d not even known they were there.
He let her cry until she was spent, until she could do nothing more than put her arms around his torso and be still, resting her head on his chest. He smelled exactly as she remembered—of clean soap, warm man, and a hint of fresh air and horseflesh.
The peace of silence settled upon them. She listened to his heart beat and felt the stirrings of trust again. And a desire for him to understand. Years ago, their time together had been too brief for confidences. The details of their lives had seemed unimportant compared to the attraction they’d felt. No wonder they had misread each other’s motives.
Kate wanted now to be different.
She spoke. “Jeremiah Earls was a family friend. My mother knew him from her acting days. When I announced that I was going to be an actress, my mother was the first to inform me I would not, and yet I had my heart set upon it.”
“So she let you go?”
“She had no choice. I have a strong will.”
With a short laugh, he signaled his agreement.
She tightened her hold around him. Her memories were clear and vivid.
And that was how she’d been living, she realized, with memories. Only memories.
