Chapter 9

She told him the address and he plugged it into the GPS. He was driving a different car, and she commented on it.

"I like cars," he said flashing her his charismatic smile that had her senses tingling.

"It's a Tesla." Stretching her legs out, she admired the interior and the large computer screen. "Completely electric?"

"Yes. What would you like to hear?" He touched the screen and brought up the section for music.

"R the only sounds were the birds chirping and squirrels scampering up the trees. Uncorking the wine, he poured them into plastic glasses she had brought with her.

He leaned back against the trunk of the tree, a wine glass in his hand. Everything was peaceful and serene. She was right. It would make a perfect setting for the elderly. It was far back from the road and there could be trails for short walks.

Seats could be added beneath trees where they could sit and enjoy the scenery while drinking tea. He could see it in his mind's eye.

"This is delicious."

Turning his head, he stared at her. She was supping the red wine, and her lips were stained from it, making him uncomfortably warm.

"What do you taste?"

She took another sip, a very slow one as she tested the liquid on her palate. "It's kind of fruity, with just a touch of alcohol." Picking up the bottle, she studied the label. "I don't recognize the name."

"I did not know you were a connoisseur?"

"I am not. But I am always browsing in the liquor store. They have this quaint one, the inventory is ever extensive. It's on Canal Street."

He knew where the place was of course and had been there a couple of times. "We own a vineyard in Tuscany. It's something they are experimenting with and will be on the market in time for Christmas."

She stared at him in surprise. "It's yours?"

He nodded. "There is a villa on the property which is located in Castelmezzano." He wanted to suggest that they take a trip there but had to bite back the invitation.

"Sounds lovely, she mused.

He took a sip of the wine as he contemplated the scenery before him. "You haven't asked me?"

"Asked you what?" She asked, puzzled.

"About my life. I have been delving into yours, so I would expect you to be asking me about mine."

She shrugged. "I figured you will tell me if you have a mind. I am not here to pry secrets from you, Evan."

The sound of his name on her lips had him turning to stare at her. They hadn't talked about what had happened in the parking lot of the fast-food place and he was afraid to bring it up. They were in seclusion in this out of the way place and he found himself wondering if she had brought him here for a specific reason.

"Just like that?"

She nodded; her expression soft. "Just like that."

"I am not comfortable talking about my past."

"Okay."

He stared at her for a moment before looking into his wineglass. "After my mother passed, my life became unbearable. My dad and his brother were of the same mindset. They cared little about hurting people and had no qualms about using anyone. They trained me to be like them."

"But you weren't."

Her soft nonjudgemental voice had his heart twisting inside his chest. He wanted to be good for her, but it was too late.

"I was." He had great difficulty admitting it, but he was never going to lie to her.

"I wanted to please them."

"You were a child."

He smiled slightly at her determination to make excuses for him.

"I haven't been a child in a long time." Putting away the glass, he drew his left leg up and wrapped his hands loosely around his knee.

"I will pray for you."

His head jolted so suddenly that his neck popped. "Pardon?"

Her smile was angelic as she stared at him. "I will pray for you, every night and in the mornings as well."

His expression was oblique and left her wondering what he was thinking. "What do you pray about? My immortal soul?"

"I pray you will find happiness." He felt a shiver all the way into his heart when she reached for his hand and lined her fingers with his. "I pray that you will come to know Jesus as your Lord and Savior and realize what a joy it is to belong to Him."

Her eyes were windows into her soul. He had heard the expression and scoffed at how ludicrous it sounded. But suddenly he was a believer. He went still when she continued. "I also pray for guidance and direction…"

Ducking her head, she stared at his strong tanned fingers gripped in hers. Lifting her head, she looked at him and the expression on her beautiful face had the breath strangling inside his throat. "I have been asking the Lord why you and I…," she shrugged and swallowed. "He is not responding."

"Why me?" His thick voice was hoarse with emotions he could not interpret.

"Why he has chosen you to be the man I have fallen in love with."

He stopped breathing. His entire body was rigid, his face taut and harsh with emotions so intense, he could scarcely believe it. For several ticking seconds, neither of them moved, the air around them so thick with tension, it appeared tangible. Then with a hoarse groan, he reached for her.

*****

Parked inside her driveway half an hour later, Evan white knuckled the steering wheel as he stared out at the encroaching darkness. The scent of her filled his nostrils and he knew he would never be able to drive the car without seeing her in the passenger seat.

He had stopped just in time and on the drive here, wondered if she would allow him to go all the way.

"Evan?"

Turning his head, he felt the familiar awareness racing throughout his body.

"I am not expecting you to say it back to me."

She meant every word. It was not just some ploy to make him feel guilty. A lump lodged itself in his throat. For the first time in his life, he was confused. After spending years feeling aloof and impersonal where relationships were concerned, he had met a woman he had ambivalent feelings for.

"You want a picket fence and children."

"Two, if the Lord allows it." Her smile was disarming and almost tugged an answering smile from him. "A boy and a girl, although I am not particular."

"We are different." He reminded her tightly. "I am surrounded by scandal from my past. While you are sweet and good and out of my league."

When she reached out a hand to touch his jaw, he jumped as if someone had prodded him – hard.

"Don't!" His hand snaked up and gripped her wrist hard enough to bring her pain. His eyes blazed furiously as he glared at her. "What do you think you are doing? Am I made of stone? Are you willing to let me inside your place so that we go to your bedroom?

Is that what you are hoping for, Cassandra? If not, then I suggest that you get out of my vehicle and go inside. While you are at it, lock the door. Am I clear?"

Instead of taking umbrage with his tone and his words, she continued to stare at him until he looked away. Releasing her hand, he touched the button to open the door. "Get out," he said wearily, his voice cracking.

At first, it seemed as if she was not going to heed his command. Just as he was about to snap at her again, he heard the door opening. Waiting until she had closed it behind her, he backed out of the driveway so fast that the traction of the tires kicked up loose pebbles.

He did not slow down until he was outside the compound. He had done the right thing, he thought grimly, his heart so heavy inside his chest, he felt as if he was weighted down by rocks.

He had rejected her love, because one of them had to think straight and it had to be him. She deserved a nice church going guy, one with a squeaky-clean reputation, a man who wasn't so burdened down by the problems his company was facing.

But the thought of another man touching her, being with her, listening to that melodic voice that had the power to soothe his tattered nerves, made him want to lash out at something or someone.

Making the turn, he pulled into his driveway and sat there staring at nothing in particular. He had to talk himself out of turning around and going back to her.

Leaving her alone was the most unselfish thing he had ever done, and he was not certain he knew how to go from here.

*****

Cassandra told herself that she would not cry. The picnic had been a very good idea, she had no doubt about that.

But probably jumping the gun and declaring her love for him, had been too soon. Walking into her bedroom, she slowly took off her clothes and methodically hung them up. Holding the sweater to her nose, she inhaled his masculine scent.

He had been the one to pull away from their embrace and she was left to wonder if he hadn't, would she have given up her innocence. And if that had happened? Would she have regretted it? No, she shook her head and sat down on the edge of the bed.

She loved him. She knew why he had rejected her, but she was willing to give him the space he needed. She had no idea why God chose him for her, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that they belonged together.

Lifting the heavy curls off her neck, she took a deep breath. Sliding off the bed, she went to find something to put on. She could still smell him, and the yearning was already starting.

"Oh, dear Lord," she whispered huskily, sliding to her knees at the side of the bed. Clasping her hands together, fingers linked tightly, she closed her eyes and stayed that way for a few minutes.

Prayer had become necessary to her; it had taken on significant importance when she felt everything around her tumbling into utter chaos. She believed in the absolute power of prayer.

She believed that God answered her when she prayed, and it had been proven to her so many times – too many times to count. It had saved her throughout her childhood and kept her sane.

But now, words eluded her. She did not know what to say. She had allowed him to touch her in ways only a man who was her husband was supposed to. She had allowed him liberties that should be reserved for the man she married.

And she had no regrets. It would be hypocritical for her to ask for forgiveness, when she did not think she did anything wrong. Bowing her head she asked the Lord for understanding and direction.

"I am in love with him, Lord," she whispered tearfully. "I just need you to tell me what to do."

*****

His breathing was harsh, his t-shirt soaked with perspiration. The nightmare had felt so real that for a minute, he felt as if he was poised on the edge of a cliff, with no safety net.

He had been about to free fall when he jumped out of his sleep, his heard pounding heavily, his limbs trembling. Sitting up against the headboard, he dropped his face into his hands and took several deep breaths to compose himself.

It had to be the liquor, he ruminated. He had gone straight for the cabinet and plucked a bottle of scotch from the bar. Not bothering with a glass, he drank from the bottle, ignoring the burning inside his esophagus.

He had reached halfway into the bottle before he felt the churning in his gut. The alcohol had not anesthetized him, instead it had left him with a vicious headache and a weakness in his limbs. When he had finally fallen asleep, dreams had tormented him.

Dropping his hands, he lifted them again and dragged them through his sweat dampened hair. Was she asleep? He wondered achingly. He had said some hurtful things to her, and he should call and apologize.

To what end? The voice taunted him.

Are you willing to be what she wants you to be?

"I can't." He was not aware that he had said the words aloud until he heard his voice echoing around the room. "It's for the best. She will find someone who will be all she requires in a man. I cannot be that man." Swinging his legs off the bed, he went into his study to try and do some work.