wrong, and he told me—reluctantly, mind you—that he’d seen your pregnancy tests. I was stupid enough to think he was going to congratulate me on becoming a father, but he didn’t. Instead he let it slip that the test was negative.”
“Oh, God,” Cassie whispered.
“There never was a baby, Cassie, and you knew it.”
“Then why would I have the test done?”
“To convince me,” he growled.
“No—”
“Then why didn’t you tell me last Monday?”
“I wanted to—”
“Did you?” Seeing her fingers curled into the folds of his denim jacket, Colton snarled, “Let me go, Cassie.”
“I can’t—I love you.”
“It’s over!”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to what? Lie to me? Deceive me? Trap me into marrying you?”
“I never—”
Slowly, he peeled her hands off his jacket. “Save it, Cassie. Save it for someone who’ll believe it. Maybe the next guy you seduce!”
She shrank back at his cruelty. “I can’t let go,” she whispered pathetically.
“You don’t have a choice.”
Wounded beyond words, she felt her shoulders begin to shake, her body droop heavily against the wainscoting.
“Get out, McLean!” Ivan commanded, his voice a deadly whisper as he stalked into the entryway. His face was purple, his eyes bright, his fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on here, but I don’t care. You get out and leave my daughter alone! If you ever so much as step one foot on this property again, I swear, I’ll kill you!”
“Dad—no—”
Colton’s gaze moved slowly from Cassie to her father and back again. “Like father, like daughter. Always swearing something that doesn’t mean a damn thing.”
“No!” she cried, colder than she’d been since that devastating night when her mother, her eyes red with tears and her coat billowing behind her, had left through the very same door. “I love you!” she cried, and saw Colton’s shoulders stiffen.
“Don’t, Cassie,” he rasped, shaking his head as if convincing himself that he didn’t care. “Just don’t!” His jaw set, he strode out of Cassie’s life.
“Okay, Cassie,” her father whispered, his lips tight, “I think you have some explaining to do.”
“What do you want to know?” she whispered.
“Everything.”
“Oh, Dad—”
“Come on, now,” his voice was gentle, but firm. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “It can’t be that bad.”
“You don’t know.”
“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it,” he said as they listened to Colton’s Jeep racing out of the driveway. “Didn’t we before?”
“This is different.”
“Not so much. You’re hurt again, and I’m here to help.”
Her heart felt as if it had broken into a thousand pieces. The sobs burning deep in her throat erupted, and she clung to her father’s neck, burying her face against the rough cotton of his work shirt. “I love him so much,” she sobbed, unable to stem her tears. “I’ll never love anyone else.”
“Sure you will,” Ivan predicted, “sure you will.”
* * *
But she hadn’t. No man had ever touched her as Colton McLean had. No boy in high school or college had been able to break through the barriers Colton had built, stone by painful stone.
Now, eight years after he’d left her alone and miserable, silly, futile tears slipped down Cassie’s cheeks to fall on to the eiderdown quilt. Regret filled her. Regret for a love that hadn’t existed, regret for memories tarnished by Colton’s hard heart, regret for the pathetic, lovesick fool she’d once been.
She blinked, then squeezed her eyes shut tight, willing away her tears. She wouldn’t cry for him—she wouldn’t!
Ignoring the hot lump in her throat, she braced herself for the future. No matter what happened, she’d be strong—stronger than she’d ever thought possible. Because, like it or not, Colton had walked back into her life.
Chapter Four
Colton stomped on the throttle. The old Jeep leaped forward, its wheels spinning on the gravel ruts that comprised the Aldridge’s lane. What had possessed him to drive here? And why, when he’d learned that Ivan wasn’t around, had he stayed?
Cassie. Always Cassie. Damn, but he wished he could forget her. She’d changed, of course. Her innocence and optimism had matured with her. Though not worldly-wise, she now had a sophistication within her that she hadn’t possessed at seventeen. She knew her own mind, said what she thought and had developed a hard-edged sense of humor.
All in all, she’d caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected to be attracted to her. In fact, he’d hoped that with time, he’d developed an immunity to her—that his infatuation at twenty-one would seem a simple schoolboy crush.
Unfortunately he’d been wrong. Seeing her now as a beautiful young woman who seemingly