Recaptured Dreams Page 12

  Her mother was still furious about the trip and had tried to convince her not to go. Sophia wondered what lost memories Katherine didn’t want that visit to force to the surface. She also reminded herself that, selfish as Katherine could be, she was her mother. Her mother, who had cared for her all those years ago and helped her through some difficult times.

  Anne Marie had, on the other hand, had the opposite reaction of Katherine’s. She hadn’t been able to get Sophia out the door fast enough. It had taken Sophia a week to get her affairs in order before she could head to the States, and she’d spent that week wondering what the future held in store for her and Xavier. She hoped—no matter if she got her memories back or not—that it would be bright.

  But as she looked at Xavier seated across from her on the plane, she couldn’t miss the distress marring his handsome features. When he wasn’t looking directly at her, he appeared lost somewhere in the past. Somewhere dark. Almost afraid. She wanted to draw him close and comfort him as he’d done for her in the garden, but at the same time, she didn’t really know him. It was a tight line to walk. A confusing one. He’d known Sophia from a time she didn’t remember, and now he appeared almost uneasy around her.

  “We’re here,” Xavier said kindly, breaking Sophia’s train of thought.

  Sophia glanced out the window. The runway approached.

  Here we go. She relaxed back into her seat. It would take time; she understood that. And her sticky emotions might take her for a ride. But with Xavier at her side, Sophia was pretty certain she could tackle anything.

  From the airstrip they took a car around the winding roads to the Hamptons.

  “Does this look familiar?” Xavier asked as they drove up to large white house on North Bay Lane in East Hampton.

  The house was breathtaking, with three stories and arched dormers serving as the only windows on the top floor. It was surrounded by aged, winter-barren trees and several lush evergreen pines. An aggregate sidewalk led up to a large set of bright red double doors. A huge porch wrapped around, and large windows adorned the first two floors. A garage to the right could have housed numerous cars, and a white fence surrounded the property for as far as Sophia could see.

  “No, I’m sorry,” she answered, trying to take it all in. The city had been what she’d expected, but the countryside was spectacular. Quaint cottages surrounded by enormous oaks overlooked the sea, and waves crashed like a calming, constant lullaby. She imagined the place in the full blossom of summer, with bursting green grass, bright leafy trees, flowers galore, and a swarm of birds flocking overhead.

  “First,” Xavier said as he parked the car, “you’re going to have to stop apologizing. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I’m sorry. Oh, wait…I’m sorry. Oh, there I go again.” Blowing out a puff of air, Sophia glanced at Xavier, who smiled.

  “It’s okay. I’m sure it’s all a little overwhelming.”

  “Yes, you could say that.”

  “So.” He opened his car door. “Let’s go in.”

  “Into this house?” She hadn’t been expecting a house of that size. Really, she hadn’t expected a house at all. She’d assumed they would stay in a hotel.

  Xavier chuckled, the sound soothing to her frazzled nerves. “Yes, this house.”

  Her flats clicked along the sidewalk as she walked alongside him with hesitant steps. She drew in a deep breath of crisp, cool air. It felt cleaner here, fresher. She was aware of his eyes on her face, as though he was looking for something.

  “Should I remember this place?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her up the three front porch steps. “It used to be your summer home.”

  “My home?” Every muscle in her body went rigid. “Well, even so, we can’t just barge in there and ask for a tour, Xavier.”

  Shaking his head in amusement, Xavier reached into his pocket and held up a set of keys.

  “We don’t have to ask for a tour; it’s my home now.”

  Her voice wavered. “Your home?”

  “Yes,” he said, unlocking the door. “I bought it about two years ago when the people who bought it from your parents put it up for sale. Got a good deal, too. Their business had just gone belly up, and they were trying to liquidate some assets.”

  “But why did you buy it?”

  “Because it was for sale.”

  His hand waved her inside, but she couldn’t move. She was glued to the wooden porch.

  “No. That’s not what I mean,” she said. God, was her voice cracking? “Why did you want to buy this house?”

  “Please. Come in?”

  Her breath hitched in her throat. One foot in front of the other. That’s all she needed to do. But it was very hard to stride into a house that used to belong to her parents. One that she’d run the halls of, slept in, and possibly enjoyed.

  She could do it. She had to.

  Forcing the stiffness from her legs, she took a giant, jerky step across the threshold. An overwhelming scent almost knocked her over. It wasn’t the flowers or leather furniture she saw or the smell of cleaning supplies. His scent consumed her. That intoxicating scent of sweet honey; the entire house was filled with it. Her breath rushed out. Now she would literally be surrounded by Xavier twenty-four seven.

  “Are you okay?” The warmth of his fingers curled around her elbow.

  She shook her senses back into place. “Yes, of course.” A slow smile lifted her face. “It smells wonderful in here.”

  Xavier’s eyes wrinkled at their corners. “Thank you.”

  Now inside, her eyes scanned everything. A sitting room, living room, kitchen, and dining room could all be seen from where she stood. Everything was open and bright, with light streaming in from a wall of windows at the back of the house. There were tan marble floors, muted walls, and a ceiling that must have been fifteen feet high. No plants, no flowers, empty of any trinkets. Lonely.

  When she found her voice, she asked her question again. “Why did you buy this house?”

  His head dipped, his eyes catching the light beaming in from one of the massive windows. “Because it reminded me of you.”

  She felt herself grimace before she could stop herself. Xavier had bought the house to cherish her memory? The person she used to be while living in a house she now couldn’t even remember?

  Xavier quickly moved away from her, his voice growing lower as he took more steps to separate them and continued, “Because I always told myself if I had enough money I would have this house. I wanted it.” He shifted uncomfortably, not looking her in the eyes.

  “Okay,” she said lightly. “Shall I have a tour?”

  “Of course,” he replied, stretching his arm toward a wooden staircase to the right. “It’s different than what you would remember, the way it’s decorated, I mean, but the layout remains the same.”

  He sounded so professional, so formal, as he led her through the house. She couldn’t understand and wanted ignore it, but something was off with his cool tone and subdued movements.

  The house was marvelous, just as Sophia had expected it to be. More bathrooms than bedrooms, something her mother would have loved. The colors through the house remained neutral tans and grays, the furniture plush and rich. It was obviously the home of a man—no knick-knacks, no pictures on the walls. Only bare marble floors and large, exotic pieces of dark wood furniture. The space had very little “life,” as Sophia liked to call it. It wasn’t home.

  “Well,” he said, “that’s it. Anything familiar?”

  Sophia shook her head. A flicker of disappointment crossed Xavier’s face.

  “I’ll get us a drink.” He walked toward the kitchen.

  She kept from frowning until he’d turned his back. Then she couldn’t help but spin around and take in each and every detail of her surroundings, from the crown molding, the glitter on the windows, the colors on the walls, down to the smooth marble floors, hoping something would spark. She n
eeded to see something of her past. Now not only for her, but for Xavier.

  Xavier strode back to the living room, holding a glass of wine in each hand. He locked up at the doorframe and watched as Sophia glanced around the room.

  It was a sight he’d dreamed of for years. She looked perfect there, like she belonged. Her energy, her liveliness, her spunk and sense of humor were what that place had been missing. He could picture her feminine touches now: the burst of colors from South American hand-dyed fabrics. The aroma of fresh flowers. Pictures of the two of them scattered around the walls. She could make this house a home as easily as she smiled. She could keep it—and his heart—warm.

  The spark in her eyes on the plane, in the car, and even walking through her old house tugged at the strings of his heart. With every gasp she made, he struggled not to bring her in for a hug or kiss.

  Shaking his head, Xavier walked to Sophia, knowing he had to let her set the pace and not pressure her. That was the only way she could survive. And now, it was the only way he would.

  “Thank you,” Sophia said as she accepted the glass from Xavier. “The house is lovely.”

  “As are you,” he replied with a smile. “Do you want to see other things today, or are you tired from the flight?”

  “Yes, I’m a little tired, but not too tired to venture out. Do you have someplace in mind?”

  Xavier wanted to take her hand and lead her to the first place they’d made love and do it all over again. But that would have to wait, as would any sign of affection toward her.

  So, instead of holding her hand, he made a sweeping motion toward the door. “Of course I do. Let’s go.”

  Main Beach—East Hampton read the sign as they drove down a thin blacktop road.

  “The beach? We’re going to the beach?”

  Xavier laughed and looked at Sophia. “Yes, the beach. The main beach in East Hampton has some of the clearest water in the country. Not to mention, the temperature is a comfortable seventy-five degrees in August. What is that, like twenty-something Celsius for you? It’s perfect. I wouldn’t recommend a swim in it in early March, though.” His eyes glimmered. “But, I thought you would like to see the first place we met.”

  “Really?”

  He crooked a smile at her. “Yes.”

  Sophia wondered how that first meeting had gone. She pictured the younger Xavier standing in white sand, the wind blowing through his dark hair as water dripped off his body. What would the Xavier of today look like under those circumstances? She imagined the young, lean body replaced with rippled muscles along his chest, the stronger jaw, thicker brow, and more piercing ocean-eyes focused in her direction.

  “Sophia.”

  “Uh? What?”

  “Daydreaming again?”

  “Yeah, well—like I said, this is a lot to take in.” She drew a breath and looked over at him. The low winter sun glinted through the window and softened his features. She felt the familiar tremble within her body. “Again, I can’t thank you enough for this.”

  Xavier shook his head as he exited the car. He walked around to Sophia’s side, opened the door, and helped her to her feet. As soon as she stood beside him, he dropped her hand and moved away from her. He lowered his gaze before he spoke again. “No thanks are necessary. I just want to help.”

  His aloofness put a weight on her heart. Even after, as they walked side-by-side down the sandy beach, he made certain to stay several feet to her right. And when she inched closer to him, he maintained his space. She folded her arms across her chest, hoping to stave off the chill of the air and the chill from Xavier.

  Xavier stopped under a skinny white building the length of half a football field. “Here we are. The first place we met.”

  Picnic tables were lined in perfect rows across from the building. A woven wooden awning stretched above them, leaving a crisscrossed pattern of shadows on the ground. It was a vending spot. People could bustle about, chase after children, or sit at a table and enjoy drinks. They could do anything they wanted and still hear, see, and smell the scent of the ocean.

  Her eyes took in the horizon. The crystal blue water lapped across the shore in a soothing, hypnotic rhythm. It was bluer than she’d ever seen, and the beach itself was relatively quiet given the brisk March weather. But even in the silence she could hear the frolicking children. The laughing families. And she could perfectly picture the ambience of lounging around on a hot summer day. She smiled. This was a happy place, one she would have enjoyed. It would have whisked her away from the troubles of having to spend an entire summer with her parents, away from home. Sophia was certain her mother had irritated her just as much back then, and the cool waters of the beach would have been a place to which she could retreat.

  All through her thoughts, she could feel Xavier’s eyes pinned on her, seeming to judge her every reaction to every detail.

  “I like it here.” Sophia turned back around to face him. “I can understand why I would come here.”

  “You used to say it ‘took you away’ from things you didn’t care to think about.”

  “I can see myself saying that,” she said with a light laugh. She moved past Xavier and sat down at one of the white picnic tables. Her eyes narrowed, and her tone dropped. “I was just wondering if I ran away from my mother here much like I do now.”

  Xavier took the seat next to her and placed his hand over hers. His voice came out cool and calm. “Don’t think about things like that now. Just try to remember the surroundings, not the reasoning.”

  She wanted to turn her hand over and interlace her fingers with his but stopped short.

  “Okay.”

  Her stomach knotted. He must have felt the tension because he lifted his hand and clasped both of his together. Sophia bit the inside of her lip. After the conversation with her mother, she wondered if the girl Xavier had fallen in love with was gone. Maybe he was in love with a memory and couldn’t love who she was now. Since the Xavier from a week ago was gone and had been replaced by a newly reserved but equally enticing version, the pieces fit. She wasn’t the same, therefore Xavier’s feelings weren’t what he thought they’d be. It made painful sense, and she didn’t know if she had the strength to handle that detachment.

  “Will you tell me about it?” she asked. “The first time we met?”

  “I was sitting right over there.” Xavier pointed to another picnic table. “With my brother. We were on a break from working at the vending stand. My Pap owned one of them here. And then there you were.” He pointed to a spot out on the beach, his face lighting up. But then his hand fell, and his gaze dropped to the sand beneath his feet. “Have you ever had one of those moments when you knew a split second changed your life?”

  Her eyes focused on his strong features, remembering how she’d felt that night at the fashion show. “Yes.”

  “That’s what seeing you for the first time was like. It was July, and the beach was crowded with people. But you—” he drew in a deep breath “—stood out from the crowd. When I saw you, the rest of the people disappeared. A shooting-star-on-a-dark-night kind of feeling. Untouchable beauty.”

  Her jaw dropped. Her mouth went dry. Sophia couldn’t remember anything from her past, but she knew that no one was that perfect, and she certainly wasn’t like that now. It only seemed to confirm that if Xavier was still in love with her, he was in love with the idea of her. How was she supposed to deal with that?

  His head lifted. A hurricane swirled around in his eyes, yet he held an uplifting smile.

  “I knew right then my life would never be the same. I was right.” He turned his head to look back out to an empty spot on the beach. He rolled his shoulders and continued. “You were with a friend, Mary or Maggie or something like that. And your hair was much longer. It fell past your shoulders. You were walking along the beach in a cute little red bikini with a black bag slung over your shoulder.”

  A bikini? That didn’t sound much like her. She recalled the figure she’d had as of wak
ing from her coma, the baby fat of her youth she’d since outgrown. She definitely wouldn’t have called it bikini-worthy. Her skin had been loose and sagging around her hips—surely she wouldn’t have had the confidence to venture out like that? She must have been crazy…or, again, very much unlike her present self.

  “A bikini?” Sophia smirked. “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure. The top tied around your neck and back, and the bottom tied at the sides of your hips.” One corner of his lips arched upward. “Anyway. My meddling brother dared me to go and talk to you. So I did.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yup.” His side-grin widened, the hurt fading from his eyes. “Changed my life.”

  Xavier took her hand, and they walked toward the beach. The sun was beginning to set over the water, changing the color of the sky from blue to bright oranges and reds—like autumn in the sky.

  As night closed in, Xavier continued to tell Sophia about the day they’d met, though nothing rang a bell for her. She was disappointed but reassured herself it was only the first day. There would be many more to come, and the best thing of all was that Xavier would be there the whole time, showing her the way. That was something she could get used to.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “TELL ME ABOUT YOUR FAMILY,” Sophia asked as she poured wine into two glasses on the table later that evening.

  Xavier put the chicken casserole down in between the glasses, accidentally brushing Sophia’s bottom when he turned to sit in his seat. Warmth crawled up his skin, but he forced it away. Glancing at Sophia, he noticed her cheeks had grown pinker.

  “My parents died when I was young.” There was not a hint of sadness in the words; Xavier had stated it like a simple fact.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He dished a portion of the casserole onto both of their plates. “I don’t remember them. Bryant, my brother, and I were raised by our grandparents.” Xavier stopped and chuckled.