“You could just stay for dinner.”
She smiled. “No, I really can’t. Good luck, Luka.”
Rolling his eyes, he went back to the kitchen where Susannah was tearing lettuce. He leaned against the refrigerator, Darlin’ at his feet. “She won’t stop following me.”
One side of Susannah’s mouth lifted in the half smile he’d come to anticipate. “Did you bring her out of the woods?”
“I guess in a way I did.”
She pushed him aside gently, grabbing vegetables from the refrigerator. “Then, there you go. Darlin’ is to you what Jane Doe is to me. And, to a certain extent,” she added, cutting the ends off cucumbers with more force than needed, “what I am to you.”
He wanted to grab her shoulders and make her look at him, but he stayed where he was. “That’s not fair to either of us,” Luke said quietly.
She dropped her chin. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard, focusing on the vegetables she sliced with quick, expert movements. “Talia called you ‘Luka.’ ”
“My mother calls me that.”
“I know. So you and Talia are friends?” she asked carefully.
He kept his voice level, although her question set his heart thumping. “She’s Greek.”
“So? Do you know all the Greeks in Atlanta?”
He smiled. “A fair number. It’s a tightly knit community. My father and his brothers cater a lot of the weddings and parties. We know just about everyone.”
She tossed the sliced cucumbers into the salad. “Scott doesn’t sound that Greek.”
“Her first marriage. Didn’t go so well.”
“Hmm. I’m surprised your mother didn’t pick her for you,” she said lightly.
“She tried. Gave up. Talia and I are friends. No more.”
She turned then, her arms hugging the salad bowl. Her eyes met his and stayed, intense and filled with longing, and suddenly the simple act of breathing was an effort.
Abruptly she dropped her eyes and pushed past him to put the bowl on the table. He followed her, Darlin’ still at his heels, and stopped, staring at her back. “Susannah.”
“I need to go. I’ll sleep in Jane Doe’s room in ICU with the guard at the door if it will make you feel better. I promise.”
“What would make me feel better is if you’d look at me.” She didn’t move, so he gently grasped her shoulders and tugged until she turned around, her eyes level with his chest. He waited, silently, until she finally lifted her eyes. He felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Her eyes that had been so careful, so guarded, now seethed with emotion, wild and turbulent. Hunger and interest. Denial and dismay. Knowing his next move would be critical, he cupped her cheek as he’d done before.
She turned her face into his palm and drew a breath as if memorizing his scent, and his whole body clenched. He knew he’d never wanted anyone, anything so much.
“How long has it been, Susannah?” he asked roughly.
“For what?”
It was a damn good question. “Since someone touched you.” He swept his thumb across her cheek to show her what he meant. “Since someone kissed your forehead.”
He could feel her turmoil. “Never,” she finally said.
His heart broke. “Not your mother?”
“No. She wasn’t a warm woman.”
“Susannah, did your father…” He couldn’t ask. Not after all she’d been through.
“No. But he wanted to. I could always tell. But he never did.” She wet her lips, nervously. “Sometimes I would hide. That’s how I found the hidey-hole behind my closet. I wasn’t hiding from Simon then. I was hiding from my father.”
Luke wanted to scream. To throw something. To kill her father. Ironically, Simon had done it for him. “Did he hit you?”
“No. Most of the time he just ignored me. Like I wasn’t there. Then sometimes he’d get this look.” She shuddered.
“And your mother?”
Her lips curved, bitterly. “She was a good hostess, kept a nice house. She was never demonstrative. Never paid any attention to us. Except for Simon. It was always about Simon. After he lost his leg, it got worse. And when we’d thought he died, when my father sent him away and told the world he was dead… that was bad.”
“What happened?”
“My mother was hysterical. She said she hated us, me and Daniel. That she wished we’d never been born. That she wished we’d died instead.”
What a thing for a daughter to hear. “So when Simon hurt you, you couldn’t tell her.”
She looked away. “She already knew.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know how she knew, but she did. She told me that I was loose. What else was a boy to expect? But I wasn’t. I’d never even been on a date.”
“That’s vile, Susannah,” he said, his voice trembling.
She finally met his eyes again. “Thank you.”
Thank you. Her mother had condoned her own daughter’s incestuous rape and she thanked him for reviling it. He wanted again to scream, but he reined in his temper and softly kissed her brow. “You think you’re alone and you’re not. You think you’re the only one to do things you’re ashamed of, but you’re not.”
“You haven’t done what I’ve done, Luke.”
“How do you know? I’ve had sex with women I barely knew, sometimes just to numb my mind from what I’d seen that day. So that when I woke up at three a.m. I wouldn’t be alone. I’m ashamed of that. I want what my parents have, but I’ve never found it.”
“You don’t understand.” She started to pull away, reluctantly. “I hope you never do.”
“Stop.” He whispered the word. “Don’t go.” He touched his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Don’t go.” He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, just held himself there, a whisper away from her mouth.
After what seemed an eternity, she turned her head, just a hair. Just enough.
His mouth covered hers, carefully. Softly. Finally. With a whimper she relaxed into him, sliding her hands up his chest and around his neck, and she kissed him back. Her mouth was soft, mobile, and so much sweeter than he thought it would be. And then somewhere, somehow gentleness fled and he took what he’d needed, lifting her feet off the ground, pulling her up against him where his body throbbed and ached.
Susannah ended it too soon, pressing her cheek against the side of his neck. Then she pushed away until he loosened his grip and her feet touched the floor once more.
She held out her hand to keep him from coming after her, devastation in her eyes. “I can’t do this,” she said, backing away, then she ran to the bedroom and shut the door.
Luke’s teeth clenched as he called himself every name he knew. He’d promised her he wouldn’t ask anything more than to let him keep his promise to Daniel. He’d taken advantage of her, just one more person in her life to have done so.
Furious with himself, he grabbed the dog’s leash. “Come on, Darlin’. Let’s go walk.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ridgefield House, Saturday, February 3, 7:30 p.m.
Ashley Csorka drew a breath. She’d been picking at the mortar for hours, until the nail she’d found had dulled. She’d had to pull another stair free to get another nail, and that had taken a long time. Finally, finally she’d freed her first brick, about two feet off the floor. Holding her breath she gave it a push. It’ll be loud, they’ll come.
You’ve been at this for hours and they haven’t come. Maybe they’re not home. Hurry, hurry. She pushed the brick harder and nearly sobbed when it worked free, creating one brick-sized hole. The air was fresh on her face. Out there was freedom.
She’d need to loosen at least four or five more bricks. Hurry. Hurry.