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Paige blushed, wondering if he was inwardly laughing at her. Perhaps he always had been. Poor, new widow, throwing herself at the first man who tried to comfort her. Maybe that’s all she was to him, a slightly embarrassing, mostly pitiful memory. She couldn’t blame him for that. It’s how she thought of herself back then, too. But she was stronger now. Much stronger. He’d no longer find much trace of the wobbly, uncertain woman she’d been in those days after Phil’s death.
“I had more in mind the computer center,” she said, making her voice match her more determined thoughts. “The kids are already using it, even ones who’ve never seen a computer before.”
One dark brow lowered, as if at the new intonation in her words. “I’m glad to hear that. There was some…discussion over the extra construction it took for the wiring.”
She read between the lines and said, “Thank you for fighting for it, then.”
He shrugged. “Wasn’t much of a fight. They knew if it got all the way to Josh, he’d approve it.” His forehead creased. “Is your son with you?”
“Yes and no,” Paige said wryly, then regretted the words. Her problems with Kyle weren’t something she wanted to discuss, least of all with this man.
“Does that mean he’s here physically but not mentally?”
“Exactly,” she said, surprised he’d gotten her meaning so quickly. “He’s not happy with me for making him leave L.A.”
Rider scanned the lovely vista before them, inviting pathways through gently waving palm trees, stretching down to a pristine white beach.
“One man’s paradise is another man’s hell,” he said softly.
He’d surprised her again. “And L.A. was this mother’s hell,” she said, her voice rather sharp. “Kyle was headed for serious trouble, and I was not going to let it happen.”
His gaze snapped back to her. “He never came around? After he found out…?”
He paused, clearly uncomfortable. She’d been so focused on the stupid things she’d done, she’d forgotten Rider had met Kyle, however briefly, in the days he’d been with her after the crash. And that his concern had stretched to both of them. Perhaps if she’d been more aware of that, she would have seen that he’d merely been being kind, not sending an invitation to the widow.
And suddenly she knew she couldn’t go on like this. If she were to get through the time he would be here, she couldn’t handle the strain of either trying to dodge him or feeling this horrible knot in her stomach every time she saw him. Not on top of dealing with Kyle and keeping up with her students.
She bit her lip, not knowing how to say it, then finally just blurted it out. “Could we talk?”
His brows furrowed for a split second, in what she thought was a flinch. “Is that talk with a capital T?”
The woman she’d once been might have given up. Might have ignored the elephant in the kitchen, hoping it would magically vanish, as she had done with too much else. The woman she was trying to be would not.
“Let’s just say—” she looked around at the people who had exited the meeting and were now milling about, some glancing their way “—that I don’t want to do it here.”
“Paige, is this necessary?”
She hadn’t really considered that this might be as distasteful to him as to her. He’d probably managed to forget all about that night, until he’d walked into that meeting and seen her, the painful reminder.
It would be better for both of them, she thought. She was sure of that. “It’s necessary for me,” she insisted.
He let out an audible breath. “All right. I’ve got meetings the rest of the day. What about dinner?”
She frowned; that sounded too much like a social occasion, and while this wasn’t really business—except the unfinished, personal kind—she didn’t feel comfortable with the implications of a formal dinner engagement.
“I’m sorry,” he said stiffly when she didn’t answer. “I should have realized you wouldn’t want to do that. Later this evening then?”
“Fine,” she said, wondering why he suddenly sounded so odd.
He appeared to be thinking for a moment. “The overlook?”
The deck built out over the steepest slope down to the beach would most likely be private enough. And convenient, she thought sourly, if she decided to jump off.
“Fine,” she repeated. “You just got here, do you know where it is?”
“Theoretically, from the plans. I need to check it out in person, anyway.”
He sounded more natural now, but still stiffer than before. Dreading this, she assumed. “It won’t take long,” she assured him. “Eight?”
“Fine.” He echoed her acceptance.
“All right.” She became suddenly aware that several of the people from the meeting were still lingering, and she realized they must be waiting for him. “I’d better go. People are waiting to speak to you, I think.”
“Seems to be my lot in life today,” he muttered.
She winced inwardly, but said nothing as she turned and hurried back toward her bungalow. After tonight it would truly be over. She would deliver her long-overdue apology, he would hopefully accept it when he understood she was as embarrassed as he, and they could both put that night behind them.
“I’m going with you.”
“No,” Paige said firmly. “You’re not.”
Kyle eyed her stubbornly from beneath the old, dirty baseball cap he still insisted on wearing backward despite the brilliant flood of sunlight here. The two earrings that pierced his left earlobe glinted, one gold, one silver and black. The second was a rather grim representation of a skull she hated but hadn’t made an issue of, for fear it would make him determined to keep wearing it whether he really wanted to or not.
“Why not?”
“To start with, you weren’t asked. Mr. Rider and I have things to talk about.”
“You’re going to talk about Dad, aren’t you? So I want to go. He knew him. I want to ask him some things.”
“We have school business to talk about.” That much was true; she did want to give him at least a brief report on the school and the students’ progress. “Besides, he didn’t know your father well at all.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he said so. Mr. Rider only met him briefly a couple of times.”
“Then why did they send him, after he died?”
She’d wondered that on more than one occasion herself. Wondered what would have happened—or not happened—if they’d sent someone else.
“I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll ask him.”
She gathered up the lightweight blue shawl to toss over her shoulders; the breeze had been picking up at night lately, and while it was hardly cold, it could be cool on bare arms. At the door she paused and looked back at her son.
“Don’t forget you’ve got that history assignment, and the next chapter of Beowulf to read.”
She thought he swore under his breath, but wasn’t sure enough to call him on it. “Bad enough to have to go to school, but living with the teacher sucks.”
“You’ve been living with a teacher all your life,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but you weren’t my teacher.”
She gave him a long, steady look. “I tried to be,” she said. “About the things that really count, at least.”
He turned and walked away, into his bedroom, without a word. He’d taken to doing that recently, walking away from any discussion he didn’t want to have. She was going to have to call him on that soon, convince him that running away from the unpleasant didn’t work. She was certainly living proof of that.
As she walked toward the lookout, she rehearsed in her mind yet again what she would say. There was no easy way to apologize for having so embarrassed them both, and having thought about how she would do it countless times hadn’t helped.
How did you apologize for something like that? The man had been there as a representative of her husband’s company, he’d been doing his job, nothing more. They’d been kind enough to send him to see if she was all right or needed anything they could provide. Her emotional state had been so very tangled and fragile, and she had clung to him. And he had let her, comforting her, giving her his strong arm to lean on and broad shoulder to cry on. He’d helped her through the ugly process, even made the arrangements to have Phil’s remains shipped home on one of Redstone’s own planes.
For nearly two weeks he’d been there to help. And then, one night after a nasty emotional outburst from the grieving Kyle, a night when she’d felt more alone than she ever had before, she’d leaned on his strength once more. He’d held her, soothed her…but when she’d looked up into his eyes she’d thought she’d seen something more, something warm and hungry.
She’d responded to that look, imagined or not, with a speed and urgency that had astounded her even as it was happening. The next thing she knew she was kissing him. Hotly, deeply, in a way that made her blush at the memory even now, five years later. And the fact that he kissed her back, the fact that after a few moments his strong hands had begun to caress her, to rouse in her startling sensations that made her shiver, didn’t ameliorate her own responsibility for what had happened.
And what might have happened, had Kyle not just then slammed back into the house, fortunately through the kitchen door, giving them time to recover before he walked in on them. If she thought he was angry with her now, she could only imagine how he might have felt had he seen his mother kissing another man before his father’s body was even home, let alone buried.
Of course, Kyle didn’t know what she knew. At least she’d managed to keep that from him. It hadn’t been an easy choice, but it was the only one she could make. Her son had already been in agony. She couldn’t risk any further damage.
Rider was there, waiting for her. She stopped a distance away, looking at him silhouetted against the fading light. He was leaning forward, hands braced on the railing, staring out at the sea. The light breeze caught his shirt and swirled it. He’d changed into casual clothes, she saw. Khaki pants, it looked like, and a Hawaiian-style shirt in muted colors. Navy-blue and tan, the same shade as the khakis, she thought. And realized with a little jolt she’d never seen him, this man who had taken up permanent residence in her memory, in anything other than a suit. Until now.
He seemed to sense her presence and turned. She started up the last few steps and walked out onto the deck. Just say it and get it over with, she told herself. Just apologize. Just do it.
Instead, when she reached him she found herself asking inanely, “So, does it meet your standards?”
There was a second before he answered, and she wondered if she’d startled him, if he’d been expecting her to plunge right into the emotional depths. Since that had been her plan, she couldn’t blame him; it wasn’t his fault that she’d chickened out at the last second.
“It’s solid. Well built, good materials.”
She couldn’t help the half laugh that escaped her. “Most people would be raving about the view.”
He shrugged. “It takes advantage of it.”
She sighed. “I suppose when you’ve seen views all over the world, it takes more to impress you.”
He gave her a puzzled look. “You must have seen a place or two.”
“Nope. Never been out of California, until now.”
His puzzlement shifted to a frown. “But your husband traveled extensively.”
“Yes. Alone.” Maybe, she added bitterly to herself.
“You never went with him?”
“No. With Kyle so young, I preferred it that way.” Not that he would have wanted me along, anyway.
“And now you’ve traveled halfway around the world.”
“I had no choice.”
He looked at her for a long, silent moment. “So you gave up your life to move your son. That’s quite a sacrifice.”
Her eyes widened. “Not many would see coming here as a sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice is in the reasons not the setting,” he said.
She considered what he said. “That’s rather profound.”
He only shrugged. For a moment the only sound was the rustle of the palm fronds and the more distant sound of the surf from below. It was time, she told herself. Time to get it done. She opened her mouth to speak, to at last say she was sorry.
“Okay, let’s get it over with,” he said, before she’d gotten a word out. “I’m sorry. It should never have happened.”
She gaped at him as he spoke the words she’d opened her own mouth to say.
“What?” she finally managed.
“I’m apologizing, all right?” He nearly snapped it out. “It’s been eating at me for five years, so I’m apologizing. I took advantage. I’m a jerk and a slime and an idiot, and all the rotten things you’ve probably been calling me all this time.”
She stared at him. “That,” she barely managed to squeak out, “is what I’ve been calling myself for the past five years.”
Chapter 3
Paige felt utterly bewildered. But there could be no doubt—he’d said it so adamantly. The man she’d wanted to apologize to for so long was instead apologizing to her.
She heard an odd little chiming sound.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Excuse me,” he said to her; she wasn’t sure if it was for the curse or the interruption. He reached into a shirt pocket that had looked empty and pulled out the smallest cell phone she’d ever seen. He pushed a button and said sharply, “Rider.”
He listened for a moment, his mouth tightening. Finally he advised the caller he would be down in a few minutes, and disconnected. He slipped the tiny phone back into the upper pocket.
“Bad news?” she asked.
“Minor problem. I’ll deal with it after…we’re finished here.”
That brought her back sharply to the realization that had so startled her. “Noah, I can’t believe you’re apologizing to me after what I did! I’m the one who jumped all over you, when all you were trying to do was be helpful.”
“Helpful?” Both dark brows shot up. “Is that what you thought?”
“I know you were just trying to comfort me, and then I—”
“I knew you were vulnerable, I knew you were confused, and I let it happen, anyway.” He grimaced but went on flatly. “It was my fault. I was supposed to take care of you, not…” His voice trailed off as he shook his head in obvious disgust.
“But I started it,” she protested.
“You weren’t thinking straight. Under the circumstances you can hardly be blamed.”
“But you can?” she asked, steadier now.
“I hadn’t just been through an emotional meat grinder. Yes, I can be blamed all right.”
