Page 106

“And we’re going to make more mistakes . . . tonight?” she asked, conscious only of the moist warmth of his lips and the dewy trail they left on her skin.

“Loving you has never been easy.”

“Because you can’t let yourself, Brig.” With all the strength she could muster, she pulled away from his caress and stood on the opposite side of the chair, as if the small piece of furniture could stop his advances and her yearnings. “Love is impossible without trust. And you cannot to this day find it in your heart to trust me—”

“That’s not true,” he ground out, hearing the false sound of his words as they rang hollowly over the noise of the storm.

“Don’t bother to lie to me . . . or to yourself! We’re past all that, Brig, and I’m too damned old to be playing games.”

There was anger in Brig’s dark eyes, but also just a hint of amusement, as if he were laughing at himself. His jaw was tense, but the trace of a self-mocking smile lingered on his lips. “You are incredible, you know. And so damned beautiful . . .” he reached his hand toward her cheek, but she turned her head and clutched his fingers in her small fist. Her face was set in lines of earnest determination.

“I don’t want to beincredible,Brig! And God knows there must be a thousand beautiful women who would die for a chance to hear you say just that to them—”

“But not you?”

Her green eyes flashed in defiance at the suspicious arch of his dark male brows. “I like compliments as well as the next woman. I’d be a fool if I tried to deny it. But what I want from you”—her fingers tightened around his as if to emphasize the depth of her feelings—“what I want from you is trust! I want you to be able to look me in the eyes and see a woman who loves you, who has always loved you—”

“And who put her career before my proposal of marriage.”

The words stung, but she took them in stride. “I needed time.”

“That’s a lame excuse.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said.

“Would you do anything differently if you could?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“I don’t know . . .”

“Would you?” he demanded, his face tense with disbelief.

“Yes, oh yes!”

His muscles relaxed slightly but the doubt didn’t leave his face. “How would you change things, Becca?”

The question stood between them like an invisible wall, a wall that had been built with the passage of six long years. Rebecca’s voice was barely audible over the sounds of the storm. “I don’t think that there would have been many things I would do differently,” she admitted.

“What about me?”

She fought against the tears forming in her eyes and smiled. “I’ve never for a minute regretted that I met you or that . . . I thought I was in love with you.” She cleared her throat as she tried to remain calm. “But you have to know, Brig, that if I could, I would turn back the hands of time and somehow find a way to save Sentimental Lady.”

The honesty in her eyes twisted his heart. “I know that, Rebecca. I’ve always known that you wouldn’t intentionally hurt anything.”

“But—”

“I just thought that you were covering up for someone whom you cared about very much.”

“I had no idea who—”

He stepped toward her and folded her into his arms. “I know that now, and I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it before this.” As his arms tightened around her he realized that she was trembling. His lips moved softly against her hair. “It’s all right now,” he murmured, hoping to reassure her.

Becca tried to concentrate on the warmth of Brig’s arms. She fought against the doubts crowding in her mind, but she couldn’t forget his words. “I thought you were covering up for someone whom you cared for . . .” She had been, but it was because she had thought Brig was somehow involved. If not Brig, then who? “Someone you cared for . . .”

She closed her eyes and let her weight fall against Brig, trying to ignore the voice in her mind that continued to remind her that Dean, her own brother, had been acting very suspiciously the past few weeks. Dean had access to Sentimental Lady.

Butwhy?What would Dean have had to gain by having the horse disqualified?Or had he expected her to lose?

“Becca—is something wrong?”