Page 68 of The Playboy and the Widow
“Shh.” She kissed him hungrily, slanting her mouth over his as she wove her fingers through his thick hair, savoring the feel and taste of him.
Cliff could refuse her nothing. The golden glow of a crescent moon outlined her beautiful face. Cliff released a deep sigh of awe at the priceless gift she was granting him—herself, without restraint, without restriction.
“Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered.
Cliff blinked and raised his hands to capture her face, holding her steady so he could look into her passion-drugged eyes. When he spoke, his voice was husky and deep. “Aren’t the girls up there?”
“Yes, but...?”
Their breaths warmed each other’s mouths. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he groaned, and closed his eyes to a silent agony.
“Doing what?”
“Refusing you.”
“Cliff, no.” Diana couldn’t believe it, either. After all the times he’d tried to seduce her, now he was turning her down. “Why?” she choked. “I want you.”
“Believe me, honey, I want you, too—so much it hurts.” He spoke through clenched teeth, his hands gripping her upper arms. Diana went still in his arms, and he relaxed as though a great tension had eased from him.
“Not the first time we make love,” he murmured into her hair, his voice low and raw. “Not like this. We’ll be married in ten days. I can wait.”
“I don’t know that I can,” she complained.
“Yes, you can. The loving is going to be very good between us.”
If it was going to be like it had been tonight, Diana didn’t know if she’d survive the honeymoon.
It took Cliff almost an hour to find the headstone. He’d wandered around the graveyard in the early morning sunlight, intent on his task. Today was to be his wedding day. Friends and relatives crowded around him at every turn. His sane, sensible mother had become a clucking hen. His father kept slapping him across the back, smiling and looking proud. Even his brother seemed to follow him around like a pesky shadow, just the way he’d done in their youth. There were a thousand things left to be done on this day, but none so important as this.
Now that he’d located the place, Cliff wasn’t sure what had driven him here. He squatted and read the words engraved with such perfection into the white marble:STANLEY DAVID COLLINS, HUSBAND, FATHER. The date of his birth and death were listed. No epitaph, no scripture verse, just the blunt facts of one man’s life.
Slowly Cliff stood and placed his hands in his pockets as he gazed down at the headstone. His heart swelled with strong emotion, and in that space of time, he knew what had driven him to this cemetery on this day. He hadn’t come to seek solitude from all the hustle and bustle, nor had he sought escape from the people who had suddenly filled his home. He didn’t need a graveyard to be alone. He’d come to talk to Stan Collins. He’d come because he had to.
“I wish I’d known you,” he said, feeling awkward, the words low and gruff. “I think we would have been friends.” From what he’d learned from George Holiday and the information he’d gleaned from Diana and the girls, Stan had been a good man, the type Cliff would gladly have counted as a friend.
Only silence greeted him. Cliff wasn’t sure what he’d expected, certainly no voice booming from heaven, no sounds from the grave. But something—he just didn’t know what.
“You must have hated leaving her,” he said next. He didn’t know much about Stan’s death, only bits and pieces he’d picked up from Diana the day he’d gone to the hospital when Katie had broken her arm. Between Diana’s nonsensical statements and her panic, he’d learned that she hadn’t been able to see Stan when they’d brought him into the emergency room. There’d been no time for goodbyes. The realization twisted a tight knot in Cliff’s stomach. “I know what thoughts must have been in your mind.” He bowed his head at the grim realization of death. “I would have been filled with regrets, too.”
A strange peace settled over Cliff, a peace beyond words. He relaxed, and a grin curved his mouth. “You’d be amazed at Joan and Katie. They’re quite the young ladies now.” Diana was letting both girls stand up with her today as maid of honor and bridesmaid. She’d sewn them each a beautiful long pink dress with lace overlays. Joan had claimed she looked at least fourteen. Heels, panty hose, the whole nine yards. Katie was excited about getting her hair done in a beauty shop. Cliff laughed out loud at the memory of the eight-year-old insisting they serve Kentucky Fried Chicken at the wedding reception. Joan had been thrilled with the prospect of having an extra set of grandparents at Christmastime. Within minutes both girls had had his parents eating out of their hands. They’d been enthralled with Diana’s two daughters from the minute they’d been introduced.
“You’d have reason to be proud of your girls,” he said thoughtfully. “They’re fantastic kids.”
The humor drained from his eyes as his gaze fell once more to the engraved words on the headstone. The wordfatherseemed to leap out at him. “I guess what I want to say is that I don’t plan on trying to steal you away from Joan and Katie.” Stan would always be their father; he had loved his children more than Cliff would ever know until he and Diana had their own. Now Cliff would be the one to raise Joan and Katie and love and nurture them into adulthood, guiding them with a gentle hand. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said aloud. “I can’t say I blame you. I’m new to this fatherhood business. I can’t do anything more than promise I’ll do my best.”
Now that he’d gotten past the girls, Cliff was faced with the real reason he had come. “I love Diana,” he said plainly. “I didn’t expect to, and I imagine you’d be more than willing to punch me out for some of the things I’ve tried with her. I apologize for that.” His hands knotted into tight fists inside his pants pockets. “I honestly love her,” he repeated, and sucked in a huge breath. “And I know you did, too.”
The sun had risen above the hills now, bathing the morning mist with its warm, golden light so that the grass glistened. After a long reverent moment, Cliff turned and traced his steps back to the parking lot.
He took a leisurely drive back to his condominium and found his brother parked outside waiting for him.
“Where have you been?” Rich demanded. “I’ve been all over looking for you. In case you’ve forgotten, this is your wedding day.”
Undisturbed, Cliff climbed out of his car and dropped the keys into his pants pocket.
Still Rich wasn’t appeased. “I didn’t know what to think when I couldn’t find you.” He checked his watch. “We were supposed to meet Mom and Dad ten minutes ago.”
“Did you think I’d run away?” Cliff joked.
