Instead of climbing the steps to the patio, Cara veered off the path towing Wes into the darkness at the side of the terrace, desperate to get away. Her heart pounded and her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. “He was my father’s best friend! Dr. Keller knows what she did to Declan—how could he?”
Wes’s thumb stroked over her knuckles, but anger and betrayal still rolled through her in unrelenting waves.
“He didn’t look happy,” Wes pointed out.
“But heishere!You don’t understand! He and my dad were close. Really, really close. It’s how Chris and Declan met. After Chris’s mom died, they were always around.” Her breaths came in short, fast bursts. “He was taking care of my dad, a witness to the new will.” Cara’s vision sparkled, and her fingertips tingled as she fought to draw air into her lungs. “He signed the death certificate!” Her eyes were wild when they met Wes’s. “Did he help her… kill my father?”
Wes framed her face with his hands and leaned close. “Slow down. Breathe.” Cara’s eyes squeezed shut, and she shook her head frantically, bits of hair tumbling from the pins. “You’re hyperventilating. Breathe with me. In, out.” Wes’s voice reached her through the cloud of panic, but she couldn’t match his breath. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at me.”
With what felt like Herculean effort, Cara unscrewed her eyelids and met Wes’s caramel eyes, only inches from her own. “Good girl. Keep breathing.” He raised their joined hands and pressed them solidly against her chest. “You’re okay. I’m right here with you.” The panic dissipated as she clung to his words.
Cara concentrated on matching his deep breaths. Her breathing slowed, and Cara had the nonsensical thought that she could smell the orange on his breath from the old-fashioned he'd ordered. As she regained control of herself, his hands gentled on her face, but neither could look away.
The torches on the veranda above them created warm, flickering patterns across Wes’s face. Cara was captivated by it. He was so handsome. Wes’s eyes darkened, the black of his pupils bleeding into the gold-flecked irises. Her heart rate picked up, but this time, all thoughts of her stepmother were far away.
“Wes,” she whispered. His hands fell away, and instantly she felt the loss.
“I think you’re okay now,” he rasped.
Wes stepped back, and Cara reacted without thinking. One step closed the distance, and she threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling his head down to hers.
He let out a guttural groan, and wrapped his arms around her waist, crushing her against his body. His lips moved over hers, sliding and sucking until her knees turned to jelly.
Cara’s skin felt like it was too small for her body, and one thought hammered through her brain—closer—she needed to be closer. She arched her back, pressing firmly against him, seeking the friction she desperately craved.
Wes roughly nudged her thighs apart with his knee, and he making a sound low in his throat. With one leg between hers, he pressed solidly against her center, a hand at her hip holding her in place as he rocked into her. Cara gasped against his mouth.
His free hand plunged into her hair, scattering more of the pins she’d used to hold the updo in place. Using her thick hair as an anchor, his mouth claimed her lips again.
Cara whimpered when Wes’s lips traveled from her mouth to feather kisses along her jaw. She sighed, angling her head to give him better access.
Her thighs tightened on his leg, and she gripped his hair, silently demanding more. Wes nipped her neck, as he curved his hands over her ass, pulling her hard against where he strained against his pants.
A bright laugh, followed by voices nearby, signaled someone was approaching.
Wes froze and then sprang backward almost shoving her away. The evening wasn’t particularly cool, but Cara felt an instant chill on her fevered skin. His face was flushed, hair tousled, and she had never wanted anyone so badly in her entire life.
Cara reached for his hand, but he shifted backward, his breath still labored. Her chest constricted, and she bit her tongue to keep the tears away. He was rejecting her—again.
The group moved past, not noticing them in the shadows. Her body still quivered, but Wes’s self-inflicted torment had reared its head and planted itself solidly between them.
“I’m sorry—” he began.
“Don’t do that!” she choked. “This isn’t some regency novel.Ikissedyou, and I’mnotsorry! I may not be Melody, but don’t you dare say you didn’t want me!” She glanced at his pants, the rigid evidence still very much on display. “Because we both know it’s a lie. You’re just too big of a coward to admit what you really want!”
CHAPTERFORTY-TWO
Wes watched Cara storm off,knowing he should stop her. He needed to say something to make it better. But she was right.
He was a coward.
For more than a decade, he had convinced himself that Melody was who he should be with. Was he prepared to throw away that dream for someone he’d only known for a couple of months?
Melody knew him, understood what he’d been through, wanted the same things he did. But as Wes watched Cara walk away from him, he couldn’t ignore the sick feeling in his stomach or the voice that told him he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.
Wes watched until she reached Colin’s side on the veranda and while the other man filled a plate of food for her. He ground his teeth when Colin picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, making Cara tip her head back in laughter.
He wanted to shout at Colin to take his hands off her, but he couldn’t.
