Big Bad Professor(51)

Amy marveled at the way that Thomas insisted on preparing every meal by her side; and she simply had to admit that, though she’d never breathe a word of this notion to him, Thomas’ culinary skills exceeded her own.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked him one day, talking between bites of a succulent Texas steak that he had prepared for their dinner. “My dear departed husband, God rest his soul, nary knew the difference between a ladle and a lentil.”

Thomas laughed.

“I do love your way with words,” he praised her.

More than willing to share her own gift—one that involved a love of reading, teaching, and learning—Amy read to Thomas each night by the fire, reciting classics such as Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice” to “Les Miserables” by Victor Hugo and explaining their deeper meanings and contexts to a fascinated Thomas.

“I cannot thank you enough, Ma’am, for introducing me to all of these wonderful books,” he told her one evening, clutching her hands between them one night before a raging fire, “Oh I did my share of reading in school, to be sure, and Ma read me her poetry; but we never did peruse the classics. And I love the way that you interpret each story, coming up with so many bright ideas about each and every one of them.” He paused here, adding as he leaned forward to erase all distance between them, “You’re a whole new world, my lovely—one I long to explore.”

Amy froze, setting her beloved copy of “Pride and Prejudice” aside as she discovered a gentleman even more handsome and captivating than her beloved Mr. Darcy—and, she had to admit, far warmer and kinder.

“And did I mention more handsome?” she mused now, admiring the way that Thomas’ carved, bronzed face shone radiant in the light of the fire—along with the long silken mane of golden hair that likened him to an angel.

With very good reason, she figured.

She did not resist as he covered her lips with his, his full soft lips massaging hers in the sweetest of kisses.

For a moment the couple lingered close, their lips smacking together as their arms clasped between them and he drew her closer to him.

Sinking contented in his big strong arms, Amy relaxed and succumbed to the feeling of being loved and cared for; their bodies writhing together as his hands ran like warm water down the length of her work-weary back, coaxing and massaging as she allowed herself the luxury of truly being loved.

“Heaven help me, Amy, but I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered against her lips, adding as he cradled her to him, “Suddenly I don’t remember much of what my life was like before you came along.”

Amy froze, pursing her lips as she struggled to conjure an image of the man who had given her the child now growing in her belly.

Then, after summoning only a fading, scratchy image of her late husband, she excused herself and retired to bed.



*****



He hated himself.

Again.

Standing once again at the center of his prized rose bed, Thomas paused in his morning duties to once again reflect on a romantic evening gone awry.

“I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loves me too. I can see it in her eyes, I can feel it in her kiss,” he mused, adding with a sigh of deep frustration, “I can give her everything that my world has to offer: the love of a good man who—in her eyes, at least, I ain’t no judge—is passing good looking as well. A beautiful home. Good food and roses.” He paused here, adding as he kicked some errant dirt beneath his feet, “Even so, every moment I’m with her, I’m competing with a ghost. I can’t be her first husband.”

He fell silent then as he felt her behind him; her presence haunting him as always as the wild Texas winds blew fierce around them.

Turning slowly to face a (for once) silent Amy, he spread his arms between them as he declared, “Amy, I swear I had no intentions of hurting you last night, or of being too forward. As I have told you, you are never required to do anything with me that you are not prepared to do.” He paused here, adding as he lifted his chin to proud effect, “I do need to know, however, just where I stand with you Darlin’. Are we business pardners here at the ranch? Are we the best of friends?”

With these words, he stared deep into her eyes, which at this point reflected no discernable emotion; making no move to walk closer to her, even as his heart reached out to her.

“Are we in love?” he entreated her, voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me true, Amy.”

In lieu of offering Thomas a verbal reply, Amy ran forward into his arms; letting loose with a deep, heartfelt sob as she sank resigned in his encompassing embrace.