His heart beat strong and demanding, and he could not remember when it had last done so. Had it ever? If it had, he could not recall. Not even with Abigail had he—
The thought of Abigail was like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped upon him. His body stilled, tensed as pain and anger radiated through every fiber of his being. She had betrayed him. She had been his friend, and then she had led him to believe that she felt more for him than friendship.
And he had believed her.
He had been a fool to do so.
He would not be a fool again. He would not again give his heart to a woman who would not love him in return. Passion alone was not enough. Passion was fleeting and only a fool would consider it a foundation upon which to build a future.
Nathanial had been such a fool, and it had cost him not only his fiancée, but also his friend. And now, he was repeating that same mistake.
Gritting his teeth, Nathanial pushed himself to his feet, running a hand through his wet hair and then over his face as he began to pace along the water’s edge.
“Is something wrong?”
Jerking around, Nathanial found Charlaine looking up at him, her eyes wide and her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. She had propped herself up onto her elbows, her feet still in the cooling waters of the lake. Her skin glistened in the sun where his hands had touched her, leaving wetness in their wake, and her light summer dress now clung to her body for his own soaked clothing had been pressed to hers in a most intimate way.
Looking down at her, Nathanial wanted nothing more than to continue what they had started.
Don’t get me wet! She had said. Odd, how that sentence now kept echoing in his mind. Had she not wanted him to touch her? Had she seen in his eyes where his thoughts had wandered? After all, she had promised him friendship. She had not asked for anything else.
“I’m sorry,” Nathanial mumbled, unable to meet her eyes. “I shouldn’t have…” His words trailed off, regret and shame surging into his heart. “I’ll go.” Then he spun around and stalked away.
“Wait!”
The sound of Charlaine’s voice stopped him. And yet, he could not turn around to face her. He heard her soft footsteps as she approached and pinched his eyes shut, his hands balling into fists lest he…
“What happened?” she asked, and he felt her small hands brush over his arm as she stepped around him. “Look at me, Nathanial. Please.”
Swallowing, Nathanial complied, knowing he owed her more than a quick apology.
Her dark eyes were wide as they met his, a warm glow in them he did not deserve. “What happened?” she whispered as her gaze swept his face. “Please talk to me.” Her hands rose to cup his face.
Nathanial flinched, shrinking back, afraid he would do something unwise if he felt her soft hands on him again.
At his retreat, something akin to pain came to her eyes. “What did I do?” she whispered, and he could see a tear forming in the corner of her right eye. “I know I promised not to kiss you again, but…” Her voice trailed off. The look in her eyes, however, was more than explicit.
Nathanial nodded. “I know.” He swallowed. “You did nothing wrong. It was I who…” He gritted his teeth, the burden of holding her gaze becoming a crushing weight upon his heart. “I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry.”
She stepped toward him. “But—”
“No!” He held up a hand to keep her at bay. “You promised to be my friend, and I promised you the same.”
At his words, she stilled, her chest rising and falling slowly as she regarded him. “You kissed me.” She spoke softly, her eyes watchful. “And I kissed you back. We both crossed that line.” She swallowed. “Do you wish we hadn’t?”
Nathanial nodded. “I do,” he said before he could rethink his answer, afraid that anything less than a definite reply would forever ruin what they had come to mean to each other over the last few months. “I wish it had never happened.”
Swallowing, Charlaine exhaled a trembling breath and her arms rose to wrap around herself, hugging herself tightly. She looked vulnerable all of a sudden as though a mild breeze could knock her off her feet.
“I’m sorry,” Nathanial said yet again, wishing he could reach out and comfort her as he would have only the day before. However, he needed her to understand. “I never meant to hurt you, but I…I need you to be my friend.” Did that sound as selfish as it felt? “And I will be yours. I promise.”
A strained smile came to her face. “As though it never happened,” she whispered, her gaze holding his, something guarded hiding in those dark eyes of hers.
Nathanial nodded. “As though it never happened,” he echoed, praying that they were not fooling themselves, that they could recover from this, that they could return to how they had been before.
Friends.
Another shiver shook her, and her hands tightened upon her arms.
“You should get inside,” Nathanial told her, uncomfortable knowing that he had been the one to cause her chills. “You need to change into something dry.”
A long sigh escaped her lips. “I’m not cold,” she told him. Still, her feet moved and she turned around, heading back toward the house.
Stifling a frustrated growl, Nathanial began to pace between the trees, his hands moving about wildly, raking through his hair before once again rubbing across his face. He was at a loss, not knowing how to rid himself of this sense of inevitable loss for despite the words they had spoken, the promises they had made, Nathanial could not shake that choking fear that he had lost her.
His gaze strayed to her shrinking form again and again as she proceeded toward the house and then slipped inside, lost to his gaze.
Lost to him.
Again and again, the urge to follow her, to find her, to seek her out and mend the rift between them gripped him, sending him a few strides in her direction before he stopped yet again, remembering that he knew not how to do so.
The afternoon slowly drew to an end, and the air grew chilled, raising goosebumps upon his skin. Nathanial knew he ought to return to the house, however, the thought of seeing Charlaine terrified him. What if she did not dare look at him? What if the sight of him sent her fleeing from the room? What if they could no longer talk to each other?
In the end, he slunk into the house through a side entrance like a coward or a thief, someone unworthy and undeserving. It was an emotion he knew well, bringing with it an image of Abigail’s face as she had turned from him, her words cutting him to shreds.
With a sigh, Nathanial closed the door to his chamber behind him, his head rolling back and coming to rest against the sturdy wood. For a long moment, he remained as he was, immobile, locked in a moment, before he heard the soft sound of water dripping from his clothing and onto the parquet floor.
Looking down, he moved into the room, pulled his wet shirt off and flung it into a corner. Then he turned toward his armoire, his gaze drifting over the small table near the door. Upon it, he glimpsed a letter. Had Zach written to him? His brother’s last letter had arrived a while back for it seemed he had something better to do on his honeymoon than keep his twin informed of all the countries through which they were traveling.
A few steps carried Nathanial back to the door, his hand reaching for the envelope the moment his eyes settled upon his name written on the front. The delicate handwriting, curved and expressive, stole the air from his lungs for he knew it well.