Chaste Kiss (25 page)

Through the years, through all the letters and phone calls, they'd always talked about the same thing. A loving husband, a house full of children, the works. Isabel's dream was born out of the lack of a steady family, while Debi's was just the opposite. Although she was also an only child, her parents were still together and still in love. But Debi had never gotten serious with anyone. Somehow, she always managed to sabotage every budding relationship she ever had since that horrible day when a lunatic tried to take her life.

Debi squeezed Isabel hand with a shuddering sigh. “It's just so hard. I think about how wonderful it would be, but then—I don't know. I'm not afraid of men. I rather like them,” she said with a playful glimmer in her eye. “But I guess I feel deep down, if they saw—if they knew what happened to me, they'd think I was dirty or something."

"Deb—"

"I know, I know. It's stupid, but I just can't get it out of my head."

Isabel hugged her hard. “It's not stupid.” She stepped back. “You're a wonderful person, Debi, and my dearest friend. We'll work this out together."

"Thanks, Izzy.” Debi sniffled softly. “Well, I don't know about you, but I've had enough of this particular topic. And no, I'm not avoiding it. I actually think I am better. Especially, since I've come back home and you're here, but for now, I want to focus my energies on you and the store. Okay?"

Feeling the small step her friend had just taken, she relinquished. “Sure."

Debi turned and started toward her car. “Well, I need to get on home and fix Ma'maw some dinner. If I'm late, she'll try and do it herself. Last time she nearly burned down the house. See you at seven-thirty."

Isabel waved then climbed in her car. Her mind raced over everything that happened during the day as she drove home, and it took a heavy toll on her. She felt drained. The things she wanted, the truly important things, were just out of reach. Her shop may very well thrive, but she would constantly be looking around every corner for the madman who'd thrown her life into turmoil. Every person who came through the door would be a suspect. He'd even managed to affect her friend's life. Although, that could actually be seen as a good thing. Debi needed to deal with her fears, and strangely enough, the stalker forced her to do just that. And then there was William. Her heart ached whenever she thought of him. Was it so wrong to want it all?

She pulled her car into the garage and quickly made her way up to the house. Her eyes, although tired from the day's work and her earlier crying jag, searched for anything out of the ordinary. She couldn't tell anymore if the stalker watched her, she'd grown numb with fear and fatigue.

Giving a limp wave to the officer who'd followed her home, she closed and locked the front door behind her. With a determined stride, she headed straight for the bar in the library. She wasn't much of a drinking person, but the day had been beyond rotten. A little evening cordial would settle her rioting nerves.

Without so much as a glance around the room, she located the lone bottle of Jack Daniels and poured herself a shot. After tossing it back, she sputtered and coughed a moment.

"Are you well, Isabel?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of William's voice. Spinning around, she watched him stride the length of the library, coming to stand as close to her as he dared.

"Fine,” she squeaked. Clearing her throat, she turned around and poured another shot. “I was just having a drink."

He eyed her as she downed another glass of the amber liquid. The heat burned in the pit of her empty stomach, but she knew it wouldn't be much longer before the alcohol took effect and her nerves would give up their frenzied battle, letting her become comfortably numb.

"Are you certain nothing is amiss?"

Gripping the edge of the bar, she tried not to relive the fear, the pain, the desperate wanting.

"Isabel?"

Slowly, she turned around, her back pressing against the bar. “I'm fine. Just tired."

She blindly reached for the bottle and poured herself another drink. How long does it take for alcohol to kick in, anyway? As she lifted the glass to her lips, he carefully removed the bottle from her hand and placed it back on the counter.

"You need no more of this, love."

"And here I was just getting started,” she mumbled.

"I have never known you to drink."

"Well, I'm celebrating. Tomorrow is my grand opening.” She sauntered over to the fireplace, finally beginning to feel the soothing effects of alcohol, but her stomach wasn't too happy with her. Maybe she should have eaten something first. Placing the glass on the mantel, she decided she'd had enough nerve tonic.

Tingles tickled the top of her scalp then ran down the back of her neck and across her shoulders. She relished the delicious feel of William's invisible touch. If only he could pull her into his arms and make her feel safe. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Why did her life have to be so complicated?

Pushing the painful thoughts aside, she cleared her throat. “As much as I'm enjoying that, you might want to turn back before someone comes in."

From the corner of her eye she watched him slowly back away and become solid.

"So, did you have any luck with the firm that used to handle your family affairs?” she asked.

"Yes."

"I'm glad.” She managed a small smile and started for the door. “I'm pretty worn out. I think I'll just go up to my room, take a hot bath and climb into bed.” She had to get away from him. She wanted to fall into his arms and cry like a baby, and the longer she stayed the more her willpower faded. “I think I'm even too tired to eat."

"Isabel."

She stopped with her back to him, unable to move as new tears brimmed her eyes.

"Will you not tell me what troubles you, love?"

Her body trembled. “It's hard, William."

He sighed heavily. “I know. ‘Tis hard for me as well. That is why I have decided to leave."

She spun around. “Leave?” Panic tinged her voice. He couldn't leave. He was the only thing keeping her together. “But your family?"

"I have completed my research, and feel ‘tis best if we part."

"No, William. You can't leave.” Isabel swiped frantically at her tears. “I can't, I won't live without you in my life. I love you."

Turning invisible once again, he reached out to stroke her face. She leaned into his tingling caress.

"And I you. But I must leave, if only for a time. There are places I need to see. Things I need to do."

"What things?"

He turned back into his solid form and crossed to the fireplace. “I must go home. I must see my home and visit the final resting place of my family."

"I'll go with you. You'll need someone to carry the knife. You'll need—"

"No, love. I must go alone. All will be well, sweeting. Do not fear for me."

He'd made up his mind. She knew there would be no changing it. “I guess I can't stop you. When will you be leaving?"

He leaned against the mantel, staring into the empty hearth. “On the morrow."

Stunned, she nodded, and slowly walked backward to the door. “Then I'll say goodnight and—goodbye.” Her voice broke with that final word and she ran from the room, tears streaming down her face. He wasn't coming back. She could feel it in her heart by the way it was breaking. Her world was collapsing around her and there wasn't anything she could do to stop it.

William watched her flee up the stairs. It pained him greatly to cause her such grief, but there was naught he could do about it. Their relationship weighed too heavily on her and took a great toll on his sanity as well. He longed to touch her and be with her as a man is meant to be with the woman he loves. As that night and the many before, he wanted to take her in his arms and whisper tender words to her, but could not.

He picked up the book he'd been reading and returned it to its place on the shelf. He would never finish the spy novel Jerome had given him when he had completed his research earlier that evening. He hadn't planned to leave so soon, but Isabel's distress made his duty clear.

Many times he thought of how he might disappear from his love's life. A heated kiss, an intimate touch, a loving embrace. Any of which would send his soul to Purgatory. A final place with no temptations to offer. No chance to return. It was the way he preferred to leave, but knew he could not. It would leave far too much guilt upon his sweeting's soul. She would feel responsible for his fate. So, the lie he had told about visiting his home had come to fruition.

Slowly, he climbed the stairs, maintaining the pretense of retiring for the night. Pausing a moment before her door, his fingers brushed the wood as he whispered his love to her. A letter of parting was in order. One he would take careful pains to write, in which the truth would be told. He would not leave her with the hope of his return. She must live her life without him.

Chapter Fifteen

Isabel tossed and turned for hours only to have a terrifying nightmare once she finally fell asleep. When she bolted upright in her bed and scanned the dark room, she ached for William's presence, his soft voice speaking words of comfort, his tingling touch against her cheek.

Quickly she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and started down the hall, her bare feet silently carrying her to his room. She knocked softly, but there was no answer. After another moment of waiting, she slowly opened the door. The room was dark. He was already gone.

Silently, with a heavy heart, she slipped inside and turned on the light, hoping that being in the room he'd occupied would bring some sense of comfort. As she sat on the bed, her eye caught sight of an envelope on the nightstand. Her name written with a flourish she had rarely seen glared at her from the paper. Shakily, she lifted the envelope and opened it with great care. As she read the words scribed with flowing strokes, hot tears slid down her cheeks.

Sweet Isabel,

I sense you know that I have told you an untruth. That I shall not be returning from my trip abroad. Forgive me, love, but I can no longer bear the sadness I see in your eyes from my presence. Although you own my heart, there are so many other things I cannot give you. I thank you for your gifts, as I shall never be able to repay you. I will love thee always with all that I am.

William

"Oh, William,” she whispered.

Pressing the letter to her chest, she shuffled back to her room in a daze. How would she be able to face the day without him? Without his soothing voice to calm her fears, his rich deep laughter to buoy her spirit, the roguish smile that sent her heart in a tailspin. She would never know a love so pure, so exquisite, ever again.

The alarm clock sounded on the nightstand. Numbly, she reached across and turned it off. How long had she been sitting there? Minutes? Hours? What time had she returned to her room?

She dismissed the unimportant questions and rose to get ready for work. Today was her grand opening. Her big triumphant moment. A moment she would celebrate alone.

Dressed and ready, she made her way to the kitchen, her mind still firmly fixed on William. Where would have gone? Did he really go to England or did he go to Purgatory? Would she ever know? She mumbled a good morning to her uncle and Constance, and absently took a few bites of her breakfast.

"Isabel, are you all right?” Jerome asked.

"I'm fine,” she said automatically then rose to leave.

Jerome snagged her arm before she could turn away. “What's wrong?"

Isabel froze, struggling with her tears. She thought she'd cried herself out in the shower crouched in a quivering ball with the spray pounding against her, covering the sound of the violent sobs that racked her body. She'd never known such pain. Her broken nose and cracked ribs were nothing compared to the gaping wound in her heart.

Turning, she faced her uncle. “William's gone."

Jerome lowered his hand. “Do you expect him to return?"

"No.” Her voice broke, destroying the fragile wall of strength.

He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly while her tears thoroughly soaked his shirt.

"I was afraid of this. Constance told me how you felt about him. I assume he didn't return the feeling."

She pushed away and tried to stifle her tears. Unsteadily swiping at her face, she shook her head. “No, he cares about me. There were just things in the way. I can't explain it."

"Would these things have to do with his aversion to being touched?” her uncle asked, with a sour look on his face.

"Something like that. I'll be all right. I'll get over it. It isn't the end of the world.”
Only the end of my world
. “I've got to go. I have to pick up Debi. We have a grand opening today, remember?” She gave her uncle a false smile, determined to hide the all-consuming pain in her heart.

"I remember.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Constance and I'll be in to take you to lunch to celebrate. But if you need me for anything before then, you call me. Understand?"

She nodded, unable to speak.

"I love you, sweetheart. I'm here for you and so is Constance."

With a quick kiss to her uncle's cheek, she hurried to her car. She hoped the shop overflowed with people even if they didn't buy anything. The distraction would do her good. After all, Derrington Antiques was all she had now.

A dark sedan appeared behind her as she pulled out of the driveway onto the road. The officer waved, and she released a pent-up breath. God, how she wished it was over, but she had faith in Mick. He'd find the lunatic and then a part of her life could return to normal. The other part. The part where her heart was concerned would never heal.

Pulling up in front of Debi's, she honked the horn. A moment later, her friend trotted down the sidewalk with a bright smile.

The moment she climbed into the car, her face fell. “You look like hell. What's wrong? What's happened?"

Isabel shifted into drive and headed for the store. “William left."

"Why?"

"Deb, it's a long story and one I'm sure you wouldn't believe. Let's just say he had issues and leave it at that."