“Why don’t you come help me in the kitchen, Louis?” Magdalene suggested.
“But—”
“I’m sure Steven and Maria have much to discuss. You will excuse us for a moment. Yes?” Magdalene asked and gave Maria a pointed look.
“Of course,” Maria said.
“Come, Louis.” Magdalene smiled at her confused-looking spouse and handed him the tray. “Perhaps you will sample the cinnamon rolls I baked earlier. I am thinking that maybe I should send some for the Christmas Bazaar at the church.”
“Anything to help you and the church,” a beaming Louis replied, and with tray in hand, he headed for the door.
Magdalene paused, looked back at Maria for a moment. “I will be in the kitchen if you need me, pequeña,” she said before following her husband from the room.
Steven watched the two women exchange looks and wondered at the unspoken message that passed between them. For a moment, he could have sworn he’d picked up some strange vibes in the room, but then Magdalene was closing the door and leaving him alone with Maria.
With the Calderones gone, the room fell silent, and were it not for the hiss of the logs burning in the fireplace, Steven was sure he could have heard a pin drop. But after months of being haunted by the memory of Maria, not even the unnatural silence dimmed the pleasure of being near her again.
So he drank in the sight of her now. Like a starving man, he took in every detail of her appearance. Her hair was longer, he noted, falling like mahogany silk nearly to her shoulders. Her skin was paler than he remembered, but there seemed to be a glow to it now that hadn’t been there when she’d fled from Boston. Courtesy of the mountain air, he suspected. He wasn’t sure if the flush in her cheeks was due to his presence or to the heat from the fire, and decided it was probably a little of both.
He looked into those big doe eyes of hers—eyes that he’d seen countless times in his dreams. Much to his disappointment there was the same wariness in them now that had been there the last time he’d seen her. Shrugging off his disappointment, Steven stared at her mouth. Her mouth was the same—still sultry and tempting. He couldn’t help remembering how perfectly that mouth had fit with his. How it had felt to hear those lips crying out his name when he was buried deep inside her. How those same lips had sworn that she loved him. He wanted to go to her, pull her into his arms and kiss her, hear her say those words to him again now. And because he wanted to so badly, he jammed his fists into his pockets to keep from reaching for her.
“How did you find me?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“Does it really matter? The important thing is that I did find you,” he told her, not wanting to admit that he’d broken a few rules in his quest to locate her. When she said nothing, he released a breath in exasperation. “I tracked you through your credit card. You used it to send flowers to your family for Thanksgiving.”
“But how—” she began, only to answer the question herself. “The computer. You hacked into the computer system for my credit card activity.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “And if you’re going to tell me that what I did was illegal, don’t bother. I already know that. But I was desperate to find you.”
“You could have been arrested.”
Steven shrugged. “It would have been a small price to pay.”
“You shouldn’t have risked it,” she charged.
“I would have risked a lot more than that to find you,” he said honestly. “But it seems I got away with my crime. That is, unless you’re planning to turn me in.”
“Of course I’m not,” she countered.
“For a minute there, I wasn’t sure,” he teased, wanting to lighten the mood. Much to his regret, Maria continued to look grim. “Now that I’ve answered your question, how about answering mine?”
Maria wrinkled her brow, causing the tiny crease along her forehead he’d noted whenever she was puzzling over something. “What question?”
“Was Magdalene right? Did you miss me?” When she said nothing, Steven bit back the sting of disappointment and his voice was hard as he said, “It’s a simple question, Maria. All it requires is a yes or no answer. Did you miss me? Even just a little bit?”
“Yes. I’ve missed you,” she said finally, the words little more than a whisper.
Relief rushed through him at her reply and he started toward her. “God, Maria, if you only knew how much—”
“Don’t,” she said, holding up her hand.
Steven stopped in his tracks. Frustration churned inside him. Frustration and hurt. “Don’t what, Maria? Don’t tell you that I love you? That I’ve been going out of my mind these past two months without you? That I believed you when you said that you loved me? And that you damn near cut my heart out when you ran off like you did without any explanation?”
“I left you a note,” she defended.
“Yeah, a few paltry lines saying that you needed to get away. That you needed time to think,” he said, not bothering to keep the bitterness from his voice. He paced the length of the room, jammed a fist through his hair. He whipped back around to face her. “How do you think that made me feel? I tell you that I love you, that I want to marry you and then you disappear and tell me not to try to find you. Do you have any idea how much that hurt me?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” he repeated and marched over to where she stood before the fireplace hearth. “You say you love me, then rip my heart out and throw it back in my face by running away, and all you have to say is that you’re sorry?”
She stared up at him out of sad brown eyes. “Believe me, Steven. Hurting you was…is the last thing I ever wanted to do.”
“Well, you did hurt me,” he fired back. Unable to stop himself, he reached for her. “I love you, Maria. And dammit, I know you love me. So why are you doing this to us? Tell me what’s wrong. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.”
“You can’t fix it,” she said and pulled away from him. Hugging her arms to herself, she turned her back to him and stared into the fire. “No one can fix it. No one.”
The tears in her voice ripped at him. “What is it, love? Tell me what’s wrong.”
When Maria shook her head, he turned her around to face him. Tipping up her chin, he stared into eyes bright with tears and secrets. A fist seemed to tighten itself around his heart as he studied her face. He’d always thought Maria beautiful—from the first moment he’d set eyes on her at Nicholas and Gail’s wedding. Yet there was something even more beautiful about her now, an inner glow much like the waitress at his family’s restaurant when she’d been—
Steven yanked his gaze from Maria’s and moved down the length of her body. Emotion churned inside him as he registered the subtle differences in her appearance and demeanor. He took in the shapeless red coat that swallowed her slender frame, noted the protective way Maria’s hands rested near her middle. In the blink of an eye,
