The Contract (The Contract 1)

My heart began to beat faster. “You were with your parents that night?”

“I was in the back seat. When it happened, the windows exploded and the wind was so loud, and I was scared. I kept losing consciousness, but I was so cold, and I could hear the wind howling . . . it never stopped.” Her voice dropped. “I knew they were dead, and I was alone and trapped.”

My throat felt tight at the pain in her voice. She had never told me any of that until now.

“Were you hurt?”

Silently, she took my hand and pressed it to the top of her leg. Under the thin material of her nightgown, I could feel a long, twisted scar running down the outside of her thigh. “I had a concussion and my leg was crushed when the car flipped. It took two operations, but I survived.” She cleared her throat. “That’s why I sometimes trip or lose my balance. It buckles.”

All the times I mocked her, rolled my eyes, and watched her struggle to her feet, filled my mind. Shame, hot and blistering, made me tighten my arms, and I dropped my face into her neck. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No. I am sorry for what you went through, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Oh,” she breathed, knowing the reason for my apology. “Well, you didn’t know.”

“I never bothered to ask, though, did I?”

“I guess not.”

The next words out of my mouth shocked me. “Forgive me for that.”

“I did.”

I rolled her onto her back, hovering over her, staring down into her face in the darkness. The lightning flashes lit up her pale face, and the tears stood out in her eyes. “Forgive me for all of it, Katharine.”

“I have.”

“How?” I whispered. “How can you be this forgiving? How can you even stand to be around me?”

“Because you’re trying.”

“It’s that easy for you? A little effort on my part and you forgive?”

“I had to forgive you to do this with you.”

“In order to make sure Penny was looked after.”

Hesitantly, she lifted her hand, cupping my cheek, her fingers stroking my skin. “That was one reason.”

“What was the other?”

“I saw something—the day you told me about meeting with Graham. I saw a different side of you. I thought . . .”

“Thought what?” I asked when her voice trailed off.

“I thought if I could help you get away from the poisonous atmosphere of Anderson, maybe you could find the real Richard.”

“The real Richard?”

“I think . . . I think you’re more than you let people see. More than you let yourself see. I see more and more of the real you coming out.”

I leaned into her touch, letting her words soak in. Idly, I twisted a lock of her hair in my fingers, brushing the silkiness of it between my fingers.

“What is the real me like?” I asked, my voice low, almost pleading. I wanted to know her feelings—what she thought of me.

“Strong, caring. Capable. Talented.” She paused and sighed. “Kind.”

“You see things that aren’t there.”

“No, they are. You aren’t ready to see them yet. You will,” she assured me.

I stared at her in wonder. Gentle didn’t describe her soul. Not even close. I wasn’t sure I knew a word that did. Angelic, maybe? Whatever it was, whatever she was, I didn’t deserve her forgiveness, the high opinion she had of me—and I certainly didn’t deserve her.

A huge gust of wind shook the glass in the long windows, the rain furious in its rage as it beat against the panes. Katharine tensed up, her gaze flying toward the sound.

I bent low and kissed her. It was tender, nothing but a brush of our lips; hers trembling and soft pressed to my humble, unworthy mouth. I kissed her with the gentleness I should have always used when speaking to her.

I moved, tucking her back to my chest.

“Sleep, sweetheart. You’re safe. Nothing will hurt you, I promise.”

“I’ve never slept with someone like this, Richard.”

I dropped another kiss to her neck, wanting her to understand, to know something about me that made me worthy of her faith. “Neither have I, Katharine. You are the first woman I’ve ever had in this bed.”

“Oh, ah . . .”

I smiled into her skin. “I’ve never let anyone stay here. This is my safe place. Only mine.” I tightened my embrace. “Now, let it be yours. Sleep. I’ve got you.”

Closing my eyes, I relaxed into her warmth. Our bodies melded from chest to hips, our flesh seeking and finding something from the other.

Comfort.Whispers. I could hear whispers as I woke, drowsy and warm—almost too warm. I was surrounded by heat and something that smelled enticingly good. My pillow tickled my face and I twitched my nose, trying to ease the itch, burrowing deeper into the welcome softness. My pillow giggled a little, and the whispers started again. I forced open my eyes. The light was dull, the skies still heavy and rain-soaked outside. I lifted my head and met the amused gaze of Jenna, who was sitting on the floor beside the bed, coffee cup in hand.