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.To shake her up.To make her admit she’d missed him.That every time she’d made love over the past seventeen years, she’d thought of him as he’d thought of her.Hah.Not likely.Why else would she have married someone else? It didn’t last, but she must have loved the guy.Damn her for loving someone else.She’d once told him she would never love anyone but him.She wouldn’t remember that.And damn her calm, cool demeanor.He glanced up at the wide staircase, half expecting to hear her mother’s voice calling down the stairs as she’d once done when he had the nerve to come to the front door.Hayley, who is it? Who’s at the door? It’s not that boy, is it? Close the door.Get rid of him.It is him, isn’t it? The one from the wrong side of town.The one who’s always in trouble.“I thought we’d go to that seafood restaurant in Newport if it’s still there,” he said, jerking himself back to the present after the silence had lasted entirely too long for comfort.“Oh, I can’t.I just got a call.I’ve got a couple coming in from Portland.I want to be here when they arrive.I’m sorry.Some other time?” she suggested.But she didn’t look sorry.She looked relieved.And what if she was making it up to avoid having dinner with him?“Of course,” he said tersely.It was a bad idea, anyway, spending any more time with her than necessary.Already it was going to be every afternoon.But he didn’t feel relieved, not the way she did.He felt let down.He hadn’t realized how much he’d looked forward to spending time with her, spending money on her, too, showing her just how far he’d come, how much he’d changed.But that was ridiculous.And immaterial.She knew he’d changed.It didn’t matter.So he turned around, got into his car and drove to Newport, anyway, ate at the expensive restaurant overlooking the harbor, overtipped the waitress, then walked around endlessly, looking at the tourists, killing time.Of all the ironies—he, who’d never had enough time for himself since he’d worked his way through college and gone to medical school, now found himself having way too much time on his hands.Finally, after an appropriate amount of time elapsed, an agonizingly slow amount of time, during which he strode up and down the streets looking into store windows that contained totally useless items that would appeal only to tourists, he drove back to Bancroft House.There was a new BMW parked in front of the house.So she really had guests.He’d had more than one moment of doubt that she was really expecting anyone.During the evening he became convinced she’d made the reservation up to avoid his company.He stared up at her darkened bedroom window, thought about throwing a stone at it, imagined her opening the window, watching her nightgown swirl around her…but not tonight.Tonight he had no excuse.She’d provided him with his own key.But he continued to stand there, willing her to turn on her light, to come to the window and see him there.But she didn’t, so he finally took out his key and let himself in.The lights were dim in the living room.A crystal decanter of sherry was on the mantel, warm embers still in the fireplace.Maybe she’d spent the evening with the guests, advising them of the local attractions, amusing them with anecdotes and local history.He was filled with an unaccountable envy for these unknown guests.What in the hell was wrong with him, envying some damned faceless tourists? And how on earth would he ever make it through the next six months?The next day there was more of the same.A brief breakfast with Hayley.Morning in the office with Mattie.Afternoon in the office with Hayley at the desk in the front office.A few patients with minor complaints.In between patients he tried working on his paper, but he kept tilting back in his chair, looking out the window, listening for Hayley’s voice, wanting to walk down the hall to her desk and talk to her, tease her, flirt with her.Hear her laugh, watch her blush and listen to her talk.But he couldn’t do that.He was here to be the doctor.He was a grown man now.A doctor.He could have any woman he wanted.Except for her.She represented everything he’d ever wanted and couldn’t have: beauty, class, money and prestige.Now he could have those things, but he couldn’t have her.She was still out of his league.No matter how much money he had, how esteemed he was as a doctor, she was still Hayley Bancroft and he was still Sam Prentice.Coming back to New Hope had been a big mistake.He didn’t mention dinner to her again that week.And she didn’t mention it to him.He ate at the diner every night, risking been recognized as the town bad boy, but it was better than driving into Newport.There was a warm, friendly atmosphere in the diner.Neighbors greeted each other, stopped by each other’s table and chatted.No one noticed him.He was on the outside where he’d always been.No one stopped by his table, which was fine with him.He didn’t need friends.Hayley hadn’t had any guests all week, as far as he could tell, so he was doubly proud of himself for not suggesting dinner.Until Saturday.Saturday morning Sam sat down at the small breakfast table in Hayley’s spacious kitchen and watched her make Belgian waffles.She was wearing jeans and a sweater with a huge white chef’s apron tied around her waist.She had a smudge of sugar on her cheek that was driving him crazy.Along with the apron.He held his coffee cup in a tight grip to remind himself not to give in to temptation and move up behind her, untie her apron and pull her to him so close he could wrap his arms around her, her little bottom nestled in the apex of his thighs, his hands on the swell of her breasts.No matter what she wore, a robe or an apron, he found himself wanting to take it off.Imagining how she’d look without it.Without anything.He wanted to lick the sugar off her cheek and kiss her until their lips stuck together, until the sugar melted—or forever, for that matter.But that wasn’t going to happen.Nothing was going to happen as long as he had an ounce of self-preservation in his body.No way was he going to set himself up for another painful departure from New Hope.This time he was walking out with no regrets, no ties, and no backward glance.Which required him to stay cool.To keep his distance from Hayley, both emotional and physical.Which was why he’d postponed the dinner he’d promised her and turned down her offers for deep-sea fishing, kite flying or clamming.Because he was afraid she’d tag along, thinking he needed company.He didn’t.He’d been on his own all his life, and while it wasn’t the easiest way to grow up, it had become his way of life.He drained his coffee cup and got up off the stool at the breakfast counter.He was going somewhere.He had to.He just didn’t know where.The office was closed on Saturday, and the day stretched ahead of him, empty and pointless.Why hadn’t he taken Al up on the cruise idea? It had sounded ludicrous at the time, but more and more it sounded like a better idea than returning to the town he’d forgotten and the girl he’d been trying to forget for seventeen years.Rain pelted the windows, and the heat from the antique ceramic stove, coupled with the steam from the hot coffee, wrapped around him like a cocoon.Tighter and tighter until he couldn’t breathe.He had to get out of there.Away from her and her house.It made him want things he’d never had and certainly never wanted.Home and hearth and a long weekend ahead of him and someone to share it with.To walk in the rain with, to return to bed with, to make love with, share his thoughts with, laugh with…
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