Hearts Surrender Page 2

  The idea prompted a smile and a sense of contentment on behalf of her friends. Daveny and Collin could make even the most jaded person believe in the power of love all over again.

  Which became part of Kiara’s quandary at the moment.

  She longed to taste that kind of happiness, but trying to find it always seemed to end her up in tight, complex emotional tangles. Like the situation she faced right now with her most current male admirer…

  “You coming, Kiara?”

  The summons startled her. Kiara turned when she felt Daveny’s hand come to rest on her shoulder. She hadn’t even heard her friend approach—testimony to the degree of distraction she fought. “Yeah, I am. Sorry.”

  “No worries, sweetie. Just wondered about you is all.” Daveny sat next to her with a sigh. “OK, so the pudgy ankles are gone, the waistline is starting to resemble that of a normal human being again, but I’m here to tell you; Ken wasn’t kidding. Boy, does sleep deprivation take it out of you.”

  Kiara grinned. “I slept in until eight thirty this morning.”

  “Wench.”

  “Stop snarling. I may have slept through the night, but I don’t have a beautiful baby boy to tend to. And I certainly didn’t wake up next to a man the likes of Collin Edwards.”

  “Was it Andrew, perhaps?” Daveny asked tentatively.

  “No.” The reply was flat and lifeless.

  Daveny paused. “Have you decided?”

  On the inside, Kiara cringed. On the inside, she braced against…everything. Right versus wrong. God versus the devil in her soul.

  In an instant, Kiara found herself thousands of miles away. She traversed the narrow, cobbled streets of Paris, hand in hand with a sexy, and admittedly, besotted suitor, her world painted a soft, dusky shade of rose. In her mind’s eye, she saw the Eiffel Tower framed in the window of a five-star hotel where she lounged on a balcony overlooking the ancient, gorgeous city. She could almost feel a cool evening breeze ripple the glossy fabric of a satin robe and negligee against her skin.

  Beyond the set of double French doors at her back? Andrew—dark haired, olive skinned, a bewitching specimen—stretched out upon a king-sized bed, tangled up in its sheets, half covered by a plush down comforter…

  “Kiara?”

  Jarred back to reality by Daveny’s voice, Kiara took a deep breath and spoke from the heart. “I realize my ‘No’ should be automatic. It’s wrong. His offer to take me to France for a romantic getaway feels too much like a deliberate ploy. A blatant seduction. Payment for services rendered.”

  Daveny didn’t agree, or disagree. But then, she didn’t need to. Like a good friend, she waited and allowed Kiara to come to terms.

  “Why does it appeal to me so strongly?” Kiara wondered aloud. “Why is it so hard to just refuse and move on?”

  “Because he’s attractive. He’s successful, and he’s absolutely enchanted by you, Kiara. He has been from the start of our landscaping project for his company. He’s offering you a trip that’s certainly a fantasy come true. Once in a lifetime.”

  Daveny was correct. First class flight, the Ritz Hotel, a week of…

  Surrender to mutual attraction.

  But was it mutual? Was it right?

  Kiara studied the simple altar illuminated by vibrant stained glass windows that framed its perimeter. She wondered. Did her longing to agree to this trip stem from feelings she harbored for Andrew, or from the fact that she felt increasingly lonely? After all, what woman wouldn’t enjoy being sought after by a well-to-do, sexy man who wanted to treat her like a princess?

  “However,” Daveny continued, “let me be clear about something. When all is said and done? You deserve much more than a seductive interlude, Kiara. You deserve a man, a relationship, of substance and honor. Don’t lose sight of that. Is this developing relationship playing to your heart? Do you really even know him?”

  Kiara shrugged. “Well, that’s kind of the point. To escape together, to find our footing—”

  “Really?”

  Kiara heard and understood the skeptical tone—and found no fault with the mild reprimand that rode beneath its surface. “Well, no. It’s about…well—”

  Chuckling wryly, Daveny bumped Kiara’s shoulder with hers. “I know, I know.”

  A frail sense of self, a near life-long quest for affirmation, clawed at Kiara’s chest. By careful design, that fact might surprise most people who knew her. She wore a Donna Karan ensemble from Saks, a new pair of Jimmy Choos. Perfectly styled hair and an expert application of makeup downplayed every flaw and up-played every attribute like a protective shield. Her smile lit up, her bubbly personality engaged…

  But the demons she fought were over 25-years-old, and they were relentless.

  She stood and sighed through the smile. “I’m going to say no. I know you’re right. I know I deserve more, I know what God would want, but so far, the best offers I get come from men who are attracted to this face, this figure, and not much more. To be honest, I’ve played to that truth for so long, I’m not so sure about finding a way out.” She shrugged. “Trapped in my own cage, I guess.”

  Daveny watched her for a few moments then took her hand in a firm squeeze. “Don’t ever sell yourself short like that, Kiara. You’re anything but shallow—or immoral. You’ll find the one—the one who will give you so much more than you’ve gotten so far. God’s preparing you, honey. And when you’re ready, I promise, He’ll send you a man who looks deep and long at who you are, not just the gorgeous cover-work.”

  Too serious. Too close to home. Kiara forced herself into an easy-going demeanor, re-sealing her heart as they left the serenity of the church. She tossed Daveny a saucy look, and then linked their arms together. “By the time that happens, I’ll be ninety-something, but hope does indeed spring eternal. Come on. The family’s waiting.”

  In the narthex, Pastor Ken stood amidst the Edwards family, temporary custodian of Jeffrey, who gurgled and squiggled. A cloth had been draped over Ken’s shoulder to protect his vestment. He cuddled Jeffrey against it and rubbed the infant’s back, swaying just a bit, in time to music only the two of them could hear. Kiara’s forward progress halted while she absorbed more of the scene—his soft, assuring hum of sound, the tender way he held Jeffrey close.

  Thoughts of Andrew left her empty. Instead, she made a wish, then and there, that a man who possessed the tenderness and charisma of Ken Lucerne might be out there for her…somewhere.

  Hearts Surrender: Woodland Series

  3

  Early summer breezes set pastel-hued tablecloths rippling. Contentment filled Ken as he absorbed the musk of flowers and the spice of cooking meat that flavored the air. A dozen or so picnic tables filled the space of Daveny and Collin’s backyard. Inside their house, he passed through the kitchen where clusters of friends and family bustled, preparing the fixings for brunch following Jeffrey’s baptism.

  “Hey, Pastor Ken,” Kiara called when he walked by. “Can you please grab that platter of biscuits? The one right there next to the stove?”

  “Sure.”

  Flushed and in her glory, Kiara hoisted pitchers of lemonade and water from inside the refrigerator and made ready to return to the backyard. He followed, carrying the requested tray.

  “Hey, Kiara?”

  “Um-hm?” She turned and her hair slid against her shoulders and shimmered in a way that tantalized his senses.

  “Let me promise you something.”

  “What’s that?” Already she grinned, seeming to decipher the mischievous tone of his voice.

  He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned close. “God won’t stir up an earthquake or a volcano or anything if you should happen to call me Ken.”

  The pink tinge on her cheeks intensified. He moved by her with a wink, delighted at catching her off guard.

  “What about Kenny?” she sassed right back. “Will that suffice?”

  He laughed at the rejoinder while they continued through the yard and placed
their items on the food table. “Not if you expect to live to tell about it.”

  “Spoken like a true man of God, Ken.” Kiara turned back toward the house. Before leaving, she cast a deliberate look over her shoulder and delivered a playful grin.

  He watched her disappear inside, enjoying how easily they fell into affectionate teasing. At the heart of the matter, though, he wanted and hoped for her to think of him in terms that weren’t strictly related to his role as a pastor. Of late, despite an abundance of people in his life, he felt desperately short of friends and the intimate tapestry of close relationships. Marriage to Barb had helped insulate him from the sensation of being isolated and somehow set apart from the world-at-large. Now, as a widowed pastor, rules and perceptions had definitely changed.

  He lingered at the table and a short time later Kiara returned, this time carrying a large platter of fluffy scrambled eggs. Ken decided to go back to the house as well, wanting to see what else might be needed. When she smiled in passing, when their shoulders brushed, warmth bloomed outward from his midsection.

  Before long, the table overflowed with food. Fragrant bacon and sausage links were left to warm on an electric tray. French toast and a towering stack of pancakes had been added to the mix as well. Ken delivered plates and cutlery, wanting to make a last trip to the kitchen for two carafes of coffee.

  All the while, the yard filled with people who arrived for the day’s celebration.

  That’s when he came up short; an unfamiliar man entered the backyard. Kiara moved toward the new arrival, dodging a few colorful balloons that had been tied to the ends of the tables and bobbed in the air.

  “Andrew!” she greeted happily, stepping into his offered hug.

  “Hey, sweetheart.”

  He nuzzled her cheek just before they exchanged a quick kiss. Kiara slid her arm through his, giving it a squeeze and sending him one of those smiles that now hit Ken’s system like lightening fire.

  Meanwhile, Andrew looked left and right, taking in the party scene, shifting in an uncomfortable way while Kiara enthused: “Drew, the ceremony was just amazing. It literally left me in tears. Jeffrey was such a good baby, too. He—”

  “It’s OK that I didn’t go, right? I mean, I’m anxious to meet all your friends, but I’m not family after all, and…well…I’m not too comfortable about the whole church thing.”

  Ken heard Andrew’s dismissive words and sank on the inside.

  “Give that time. I’m just glad you’re here now.” Kiara walked him through the maze of tables and people “C’mon. I want you to say hello to Collin and Dav. They’ve been asking about you.”

  She led him toward the spot where Daveny and Collin stood. Their conversation faded with distance. A sense of alarm crept through Ken. He centered his attention on the pair and kept it there. He watched as Andrew’s expression softened to congenial, warm lines and he seemed to react kindly to the family. In fact, he seemed to say something that made the group around them laugh merrily. Kiara kept her supportive physical connection in place as they visited for a bit, then wandered toward the display of food.

  Don’t reject his comments about God’s church so easily, Kiara. The thought crashed in, prompting Ken’s protective desire to somehow move between them. Don’t compromise the faith-walk you’re starting.

  The party progressed and after a time, the celebratory tone of the day displaced all else. He mingled from table to table, enjoying the company of a number of familiar faces from Woodland. He paused from conversations for a moment, stepping over to the food table so he could replenish his mug of coffee. Daveny joined him, linking her arm through his.

  “Hello there.” She rose on tiptoe to peck his cheek. That made him smile. Ken adored this long-time, spirited member of his congregation. She lived and breathed the spirit of God. With tender love, and leading by example, she had not only won Collin’s heart, she had also inspired Collin, once so disillusioned and embattled with God, to return to his faith. “You having fun?”

  “I am. You’ve done a beautiful job, kiddo.” With a glance, Ken indicated the festive décor, the tables packed with people that spread across the entirety of their spacious backyard.

  “Thanks. I had a ton of help, though. Yours included. Thanks, Ken, for everything you’ve done. I really feel like Jeffrey became part of God’s family today—and you’re the conduit.”

  That analogy Ken couldn’t quite accept. “The community is the conduit. You and Collin are the conduit. Not me.”

  She shrugged. “OK. Not you alone, but you importantly.”

  Laughing, he kissed her cheek. “OK, OK. You win. I know better than to argue with a new, likely sleep-deprived, mom.”

  “You’ve always been a smart man.” She looked around the yard, picking up a celery stick from the vegetable tray and taking a bite. “Have you seen Kiara?”

  “Not in the last few minutes. Why?”

  “She brought a fruit and cheese tray and I think we should probably bring it out now.”

  “Yeah, there’s actually room for it on the table now,” Ken teased, picking up a few stray plates that had been left behind. He stashed them on top of a pair of empty serving platters. “I’ll take these in. Let me get the fruit for you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. Now get back to the party.”

  Before she could argue, he turned away, retreating to the kitchen. Dishes filled the sink. Paper debris, bows and discarded wrapping paper covered the counter tops and breakfast table. Sunlight streamed in through an oversized window above the sink and silence enveloped and soothed him for a time.

  Until he heard voices. A conversation drifted to him from the next room over, the dining room, which adjoined the kitchen via a swinging door.

  “So?” This from a male voice he couldn’t readily identify.

  “So?” That was Kiara.

  Her companion—had to be Andrew—chuckled. “So have you decided?”

  “Paris.”

  “Mmmm…Paris.”

  Ken heard what sounded like a kiss, then Kiara’s shy laughter.

  His stomach fell away as he realized the implications of their private moment. He felt like a voyeur. He tried not to listen, but their voices carried regardless of his will.

  “First class flight,” Andrew continued. “Top of the line accommodations; a week of Europe, Kiara. Just the two of us. Imagine it!”

  “I know, I know. It’s exotic, and thrilling. Still, something about all of this makes me feel like a kept woman.”

  Ken heard Andrew sigh.

  “Well it shouldn’t. This is something I want to do for you.” Andrew paused. “You know something? I mean it when I say I’ve never ever met anyone like you, Kiara. I promise you that. You’re all I think about. All I can focus on.”

  Andrew’s voice had softened to velvet. Ken closed his eyes, battling the urge to wince. He wanted to leave. Knew he should leave. His feet stayed rooted to the spot.

  “Drew—”

  “No. Please. Hear me out.” Silence followed. “I’ve loved having you work on the landscaping project at my office, but…but…it’s over now, and I hate that. I want to keep seeing you. I want to be with you.”

  “I’ve enjoyed it too, but this is so sudden, so fast.”

  In each syllable of those simple words, Ken heard her longing, her questioning.

  Kiara continued. “I…I just…I don’t know what to say to all this. I’m dazzled and amazed, of course, but—but I can’t!”

  “No buts, sweetheart. OK? Yes, you can. Just say yes. Just trust me. Trust us. I want to do this for you. I want you dazzled and amazed, because you dazzle and amaze me. Turnabout’s fair play, Kiara. I want to take you to one of the most fantastic places in the world, and I don’t want you to have to think about a thing except being with me, about where we can go together as a couple—”

  “That’s just it, Drew. I have imagined those things. I’ve thought about them just as much as you.” Her soft, plea
ding tone dissipated on air that turned muggy with the first signs of an encroaching summer afternoon. Ken felt each notch upward in the temperature with a startling intensity that had nothing at all to do with the weather.

  “Don’t deny us this chance,” Andrew whispered. “I want this so much. I want you so much. You and I walking through the streets, hand in hand, kissing under le Tour Eiffel—”

  “I have to get back to the party,” she interrupted, sounding breathless. Even at a distance, Ken detected the underlying desperation in her tone. He went taut against the temptation he knew she faced, trying hard to rebuke it on her behalf.

  “Anyway, you’re not being fair,” she teased. “I can’t think straight when you’re like this.”

  “Good. There’s nothing wrong with being off balance. Besides, that’d make two of us. This outfit you’re wearing is making me crazy. You look gorgeous.”

  Ken’s reaction was instinctive—couldn’t be helped. Andrew’s comment left him envisioning the way she looked. A white lace skirt edged by blue satin, a sea-blue shell that, in church, had been discreetly covered by a matching cardigan. For the party, the sweater had been removed to reveal dewy soft skin just hinting at the start of a rich, summer tan. Ken pictured the strappy white sandals on her feet, the dancing line of her skirt as it skimmed against her ankles.

  And the images didn’t just flow; they flooded him. He felt like he had been pulled under by a warm, swift current. Yes, just looking at her, and absorbing her, was plenty enough to intoxicate a man. He couldn’t fault Drew for that.

  “Thank you for the compliment,” she concluded. “Now unhand me, you beast.”

  “Not…quite…yet.”

  Ken didn’t need to see the kisses they shared. What he heard provided more than enough entrée into the private moment.

  “Six short days, Kiara. Think about it. The plane leaves Saturday at 7 p.m. Please say you’re going to be there.”

  Ken didn’t wait on Kiara’s reply. He didn’t want to hear it. Nor did he want to intrude any longer. Still, his heart sank. He grabbed the tray filled with cheese and a variety of fruits then headed outside to dodge the possibility of being discovered. Besides, he needed to regain his composure.