Page 6 of A Little Atonement


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With that the phone went dead and Liam just grinned. Sean was not only his best friend but also his business partner. They’d discovered they each had a knack for statistics and business in college and had opened an investment firm together upon graduation. Their clients seemed to appreciate their brutal honesty when being advised about their investments. So, hearing Sean tell him not to ‘fuck it up’ wasn’t the least bit of a shock. He just hoped he’d figure out how he’d fucked it up all those weeks ago.

He disconnected and sat, staring into the fire across the room and draining the last of his drink. That day, months earlier, he’d wondered if he had picked Elena up instead of their driving two cars, if her car hadn’t been so readily available, would she still have fled? Now, however, with her not choosing to drive herself, Katie dropping her off and basically stranding Elena without a vehicle, was she telling him that she wasn’t planning to run again? His gaze lifting to the railing at the top of the stairs, he shook his head. After being silent for months, could she really be ready to tell him why she’d thrown away the future they had both been planning, a life together that had promised to be wonderful? Hell, not just thrown it away but had fled from the cabin—from him—as if terrified?

Rising, he placed his empty glass in the sink and ignoring the half-bath, again climbed the stairs and entered the master bath. The floor was wet from where her jacket had obviously dripped. Taking it from the rack, he shook his head. It wasn’t even a real jacket. It was nothing more than a thin windbreaker. If she didn’t wind up with pneumonia, he’d be surprised.

He mopped up the floor and then laid the wet jacket on the towel he’d used. After making use of the facilities, he washed his hands and, opened the cabinet to pull out a new towel. As he was drying his hands, he caught sight of an old wooden hairbrush sitting on a shelf. Picking it up, hefting its weight in his hand, he thought about the irony. Elena was a young woman of the twenty-first century and used all manners of technology meant to supposedly better one’s life. Computers were making education more accessible, smart phones brought people together though thousands of miles apart. And yet, had she ever felt truly connected? He had thought she had, had believed she understood that the most priceless connection, the strongest bond, was one forged between two people.

Leaving the bathroom, he moved to the bed again as he considered that technology had nothing to do with forming what was the most important part of a person’s character. No, something invented hundreds of years earlier whose parts consisted of nothing more than wood and bristles was more than capable of reminding a miscreant that old-fashioned values of respect, good behavior, and honesty were the true measures of a person’s soul.

“Hope you have sweet dreams, because tomorrow you’ve got a lot of questions to answer. And, Elena, knowing you, it’s extremely likely you’ll be giving those answers looking at the planks on the floor while I apply that brush to your ass.”

A gentle snort was her only response.

Chuckling softly, he went down the stairs, tossed the jacket and wet towel on top of the washing machine, snapped off the lights, and slid between the sheets of his temporary bed. At least he’d been astute enough to purchase a sofa that was long enough to suit his frame. Its length assured that his feet weren’t hanging over the arm. That thought had him visualizing Elena bent over the thick, cushioned arm, her panties at her ankles, her cheek pressed into the butter soft leather, the fingers currently gripping the quilt upstairs instead clenching the edges of the cushion to keep them from flying back to protect her bare bottom that was pointed at the ceiling. It was a vision that had his cock stirring and his heart opening. He didn’t know what would happen, but knew that by the time she stepped out of the cabin, he’d either be the happiest man alive or one who would have to accept the fact that he’d lost her again… this time for good. Setting his internal clock, he closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.

Chapter Three

“Go away,” Elena mumbled, pulling a pillow over her head, which did nothing but slightly muffle the repetitive thudding that was attempting to pull her from sleep. It might have been possible to convince herself that she was dreaming of some persistent person knocking at her door but for the aroma of freshly brewed coffee that had her nostrils twitching. While she dreamed in color and often remembered holding conversations or hearing snippets of music that had played in her dreams, she’d never once been able to actually taste or smell anything.

Pulling the pillow away as she flopped onto her back, her eyes opened. The moment she saw the beams running across the ceiling above her head, she came wide awake.

Liam was here.

Was that why it was suddenly so difficult to breathe? Lifting her hand to her throat, the touch of her fingers against a cord told her that, no, his presence wasn’t to blame… at least not fully. Tugging the toggle released the tension and she could push back the hood of the sweatshirt. Once she had, she realized that she was no longer freezing. Throwing back the covers, she moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

Okay, what were the chances that he’d just arrived? Perhaps he’d only had time to put on a pot of coffee and had no idea of her presence. Shit, what if he wasn’t alone? Could there be a woman even now sitting at the kitchen island, sipping from a mug of coffee? That possibility had her breath catching and her knees shaking a bit. What had seemed like a good idea suddenly felt like it was nothing more than some impetuous move on her part. She had no right to reenter his life this way.

“Stop it,” she whispered. “Focus on the facts and then deal with them.”

After taking several deep breaths, she forced herself to her feet. Padding down the hall, she moved to the railing, bracing herself for whatever she saw. Leaning a bit forward, her eyes darted around the room below her… the empty room. Not only was there no woman, there was no Liam.

“See, bothering trouble when you don’t need to,” she chided herself.

Scanning the room again, slower this time, she learned that the chance of him not knowing she was here was just about nil. Otherwise, why would there be sheets and blankets, neatly folded on one end of the couch, a thick pillow on top of the pile? He not only knew she was in the cabin, he knew she’d been in his bed. His choosing to sleep on the couch instead of in the guestroom told her he hadn’t been about to take a chance she’d slip away without waking him. But where was he?

Hearing the thud again, she stepped away from the rail and once back in his bedroom, moved toward the window, kneeling on the window seat.

Her breath caught at the sight of the blanket of white that extended as far as she could see. The heavy weight of the snow that had fallen on the boughs of pine trees caused the branches to hang low. Sunlight caught the ice crystals that had obviously continued to fall all night, making the entire yard sparkle. The scene looked like one straight out of a Currier and Ives painting and was absolutely breathtaking.

Thud.

Turning her head to the right, she not only discovered the source of the noise, her heart skipped a beat as she saw him. Liam was bending over, picking up a split log and placing it on the stump of a tree. With one smooth move, the axe he was swinging found its target and cleaved the log into two pieces. From the pile of logs scattered around the stump, and the fact that she could see he’d shed his thick jacket, discarding it over the porch rail, it was obvious he’d been working for a while.

She watched as he set another log into place and lifted the axe. She knew that even if the log began to move, to sway, to dodge first to the right and then the left, his aim would be true… it always was.

It took her a moment to wonder why the axe hadn’t already begun its descent. Lifting her gaze from the waiting log, she found herself staring directly into eyes that she knew were a deep, violet-tinged blue. She forgot how to breathe as her body instantly responded, her stomach flipping, her blood racing, her heart pounding. Eternity passed within those few seconds as she waited for him to do something… anything. Oh, God, she needed more time. She had thought she was ready, but what if he did nothing?

Then you’ll know it is too late,a soft voice whispered in her head. Though she was no longer standing in the cold, she remained frozen until he moved. It wasn’t to toss the axe aside and storm into the cabin, demanding she get the hell out. It was only a single nod of his head, his eyes remaining on hers for several long moments before he turned his attention back to his work, the steel head thudding yet again, the two pieces of wood falling off the stump on opposite sides. He hadn’t spoken and yet didn’t have to. With his nod, he’d said that just as he’d given her shelter and his bed, Liam was now allowing her a bit more time to pull herself together. But, with the look in his eyes, she realized he’d communicated something far more important. He was giving her notice that though he might not understand—or appreciate what she had to say—he was willing to listen. What more could she expect? Nodding her head as well, Elena slipped from the window seat.

Grabbing her duffle, she entered the bathroom. The sight of a pair of folded towels, a matching washcloth, and an unopened bar of soap on the bathroom counter had her wondering how many times he’d come upstairs without her knowledge. As exhausted as she’d been from hiking from the main road up to the cabin, combined with the stress of not knowing what was going to happen, she knew that if an entire family of bears had broken in, she would have been totally oblivious. Unlike Liam, when she fell into sleep, it was the sleep of the dead. While he could wake at the drop of a pin, it took her much longer to be ready to face the day. And that was a normal day… not one that would either bring them together or break them beyond repair.

Catching her reflection in the mirror, she groaned, surprised that Liam hadn’t turned and fled at the apparition that had appeared in his upstairs window. God, could she look any worse? Any hair that wasn’t plastered to her head was sticking out in different directions. Dirt smeared her cheek and her clothes looked like she’d slept in them… oh, wait, that was exactly what she’d done. Her hand was reaching to close the door when she remembered there wasn’t one to close. Hell, even the shower door was one of clear glass. Not a single frosted panel or strategically etched design would hide a person’s nakedness. The toilet wasn’t tucked into its own little closet either. No, there would be no hiding oneself in the bathroom.

She needed to get a grip; it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her naked before. She’d practically moved in with him before she’d run away. Still, her fingers trembled as she unzipped her hoodie and shrugged out of it, noticing that her windbreaker was nowhere in sight. Had he taken it to assure she’d be cold if she ran again? Shaking her head, she knew he would never do something like that. Seeing a towel spread evenly across the bar, she thought he’d probably just taken the jacket to hang it to dry by the fire. Dropping her sweatshirt on the floor, she looked at the claw-foot tub, picturing herself immersed in its depths, surrounded by warm water, a thick froth of bubbles concealing her, and yet wasn’t her entire purpose of being here to no longer hide, to no longer shy away from what he had known and she’d denied? Turning, she opened the shower door, twisting the knob to start the water, hoping it wouldn’t be as freezing as it had the night before. When it immediately began to warm, she quickly shed the rest of her clothing. With the soap unwrapped and in her hand, she stepped beneath the spray, tilted her head back and allowed the water to stream over her face. It felt wonderful. She didn’t rush but also didn’t dawdle. After washing, she reached for the bottle of shampoo on the shelf and poured some into her palm. The fragrance of lavender wafted in the air as she rubbed the gel into her hair. It took her a moment, her fingers massaging her scalp, before the significance of the fragrance hit her. Liam never smelled of lavender but knew that it soothed her. The soap had also been scented. He had provided her favorite brands. With her hair and body rinsed, she shut off the tap and grabbed the towel, pulling it around her and tucking the ends in beneath her breasts to form a wrap.

Picking up the second towel to dry her hair, she froze, staring at an object that lifting the towel revealed, and she felt her butt clenching. Her hand shook a bit as she laid a finger against the smooth mahogany wood of the hairbrush, stroking down the design of its grain. It seemed that toiletries and towels were not the only items Liam had left for her on one of his visits upstairs. The presence of the brush—this particular brush—had memories playing on the screen of her mind. This had been the first implement he’d introduced her to. She well remembered that night when he’d decided that her stubbornness about the unfairness of receiving a second ticket within a week had earned her more than a spanking given by his hand. While she still hadn’t been quite ready to admit that she was a bad driver, by the time he’d settled her on his lap, her ass on fire after a paddling delivered with this brush, she had been willing to admit she had a bit of a lead foot. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes, the film in her mind going dark. Maybe he hadn’t meant this to be anything other than a way to brush her hair.

Right. That’s why it wasn’t on the counter by the sink with that new toothbrush you see. Get a grip, girl. You knew this was likely. In fact, if all you receive for your transgressions is a paddling with a hairbrush, then… can you state honestly that you’ll feel you’ve atoned for all the pain you’ve caused?

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