Fairy Tale Weddings by Debbie Macomber Page A

hand. She’d finished those when she turned around and discovered Thorne standing in the middle of the kitchen, watching her.
    â€œI thought you’d left,” he murmured. He’d woken to find her gone and momentary terror had gripped his heart. It wasn’t until he’d realized she was in the other room that he’d been able to breathe again.
    â€œNo, I’m here,” she said unnecessarily.
    â€œI don’t need you cleaning for me. I’ve got a woman who comes in for that.”
    â€œWhat’s her name?”
    He stared at her blankly, surprised by the inane conversation they were having. “She’s sent by an agency. I wouldn’t know her if I met her on the street. Does it matter?”
    Cindy turned to face the sink and bit her bottom lip at the pain. With deliberate movements, she rinsed out the dishrag and wrung it dry, then folded it over the faucet. She dried her hands on the kitchen towel.
    â€œCindy.” He touched her shoulder, but she ignored him.
    â€œI promised you I wouldn’t leave while you were sleeping,” she said, her eyes avoiding his. “But I have to go now. Could I please have the comb?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œNo? But…it’s part of a matching set.”
    â€œYou told me they belonged to your mother, didn’t you?”
    Cindy nodded.
    â€œThey obviously mean a great deal to you.”
    â€œYes…of course.” She didn’t understand where he was going with this.
    â€œThen I’ll keep it until I find out why you need to disappear from my life.”
    â€œThat’s blackmail!”
    â€œI know.” He looked pleased with himself. “I’ll feel a whole lot better once I shower and shave. When I’m finished, we’ll talk.”
    Cindy’s fingers gripped the counter behind her. “Okay,” she murmured. She hated lying to him—again—but she had no intention of staying. She couldn’t. She’d kept her promise—she hadn’t left while he slept. Now he was awake and so was she. Wide awake.
    The minute she heard the shower running, Cindy sneaked into the bedroom and retrieved her shoes. She’d reached the front door before she hesitated. A note. He deserved that much.
    She found paper and a pen in the kitchen and wrote as fast as her fingers could move. She told him he was rightin assuming the combs meant a lot to her. So much so that she wanted him to keep the comb he’d found—keep it in memory of the night they’d met. She told him she’d always remember him, her own dashing prince, and that their time together was the most special of her life. Tears fell from her eyes and her lips trembled as she signed her name.
    She left the paper on top of the television. Soundlessly she hurried to the front door, where she paused again, blinded by tears. Her fingers curled around the knob. Everything within her told her to walk out that door and not look back. Everything except her heart. Cindy felt as if it was dissolving with every breath she took. She pressed her forehead against the polished mahogany door, fighting to strengthen her resolve.
    Then she heard his voice behind her.
    â€œI didn’t think I could trust you,” he said bitterly.

Six
    T horne’s harsh words cut her savagely. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she turned toward him, all the pent-up emotion in her eyes there for him to read. He had to see that it was killing her to walk away.
    One look at the pain etched so plainly on her tormented face, and Thorne’s anger evaporated. He moved across the room. “Oh, Cindy,” he groaned and reached for her, folding her in his arms. At first she resisted his comfort, standing stiff and unyielding against him, but he held her because he couldn’t bear to let her go. His hands cupped her face and he directed her mouth to his, kissing her again and again until she relaxed and wound her arms around his