Honor

to force him to stay, force him to confront the very real ordeal ahead of them. Then she bowed to the exhaustion on his face. “Your things are in the master bedroom.”
“And yours?” he asked very slowly.
“Across the hall. I thought it was best.”
“As always, I’m sure you’re right,” he retorted not attempting to conceal the sarcasm. He pivoted then and walked away, leaving Lacey alone to face the fire and the long, empty hours ahead before sleep would claim her.
* * *
Kevin stood at the window of the master bedroom, his eyes gazing blankly into the darkness of a moonless night. The sound of the waves did nothing to soothe him.
Maybe this had been a terrible idea, after all. Maybe instead of bringing him and Lacey closer, staying here would only remind her of what had gone wrong.
What did she want? he wondered angrily. Lacey had always expected him to live up to some impossible ideal, and he’d tried. Lord, how he had tried. But in the end, he’d proven himself to be a mere mortal. Maybe that would never be enough for her.
He listened as the door across the hall closed softly, and he found his hands balling into fists.
Rest, Linc had told him. How could he rest, when the woman he loved was holding him at a distance, when his body ached to feel her next to him again?
He hadn’t grown used to the emptiness of their huge bed in Boston. Though this one was smaller, it would be just as cold and unwelcoming without her there beside him. He stared at it bleakly, and for one brief second he considered grabbing his blankets and sleeping in one of the other guest rooms.
Kevin saw the folly of that at once. He could sleep in any bed in the house and Lacey’s nearness would taunt him. He would sense her presence in his very gut. The unmistakable, seductive scent of her favorite floral perfume was everywhere in this house. He would lie there surrounded by her, yet unable to touch her.
Exhaustion finally propelled him across the room. He stretched out on the bed, the sheet skimming his naked flesh and reminding him all too clearly of his wife’s first, delicate caresses. The aching arousal was almost painful, but in its own way reassuring. If the attraction burned this brightly for him, surely it could not have died for Lacey. It would take time, that was all. Time to discover each other anew. Time to heal.
Time to fall in love all over again.

Chapter Seven
If they had ended the previous evening walking on eggshells, the morning was starting out to be a hundred times worse. Lacey was so painfully careful and polite Kevin was sure he was going to scream.
Not that he could blame her after the way he’d treated her when he’d found out about the sleeping arrangements. Morning had given him a different perspective on how he’d handled things. Had he honestly expected her to tumble into his arms just because she’d agreed to come to the Cape with him? Hoped, maybe. Expected, no.
As he’d anticipated, their bed had seemed incredibly empty without her. He’d lain awake for hours wishing she were close enough to touch, wishing he could feel the soft feathering of her breath against his skin. He’d ached for just a hint of their old physical intimacy. Toward dawn he had reconciled himself to the unlikelihood of that happening for weeks, maybe longer. Not until she trusted him again.
Even though Kevin accepted much of the blame for the way things were between them, the saccharine politeness to which Lacey was now subjecting him grated.
“More decaf?” she inquired, every bit as solicitous as a well-trained waitress, and just as impersonal.
“No,” he responded curtly. He blamed the surliness in his tone on the hours he’d spent counting sheep and trying not to think of Lacey in that bed across the hall.
“Another piece of toast?”
“I’ve had plenty.”
“Did you want the A section of the paper?”
“No.”
“Sports?”
“No.”
Lacey nodded and retreated behind the local section. In self-defense Kevin grabbed the section atop the stack in front of her. Business, he noted with a modicum of enthusiasm. Maybe that would keep his mind occupied. He could concentrate on mergers and takeovers, instead of the way Lacey’s ice-blue sweater clung to her curves and brought out the color of her eyes.
One of the hazards of being in the textile business, he’d discovered long ago, was the need to scrutinize fabrics. When they were worn by his wife, it was doubly difficult to focus his attention elsewhere.
Damn, he hated the last instruction Linc had given him. No sex, the doctor had warned. At Kevin’s horrified expression, he’d added, “Soon, but absolutely not right away. A little patience won’t hurt you.”
That was easy for Linc to say. He wasn’t seated across the table from a woman he hadn’t held in his arms for months, a woman who had never seemed so desirable or so aloof. Kevin knew that if he could just hold Lacey, caress her, then the distance and uneasiness between them would melt away.
Instead, he was going to have to rely on his wits. The prospect daunted him. Maybe if he thought of this as a deal he needed to close, a strategy would come to him. The thought of Lacey’s reaction to being compared with a business deal brought a smile to his lips.
She folded the last section of the paper and apparently caught him still grinning.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” he said hurriedly. “What would you like to do today?”
“Do?” she repeated blankly. “You’re here to recuperate, not to fill up every spare minute. It’s called relaxation. You do remember how that works, don’t you?”
“Barely,” he admitted.
She nodded and he could see from the amusement in her eyes that the dark mood had lifted. He wasn’t deceiving himself, though. It could return as quickly as it had gone.
“Then lesson one is that we make no plans,” Lacey said. “We do