Heritage Ch. 03

Chapter 3. Confrontation

"Florida?!!!" he could hear her initial confusion turning into flaring anger as soon as he had reached the top of the stairs.

"What do you mean Martha moved 3 years ago? ... But why?" The growl that followed her demanding questions made him cringe. It took very little convincing to change his mind about joining her in the kitchen. Therefore Andrew sat down on the thick plush carpet of the first floor, his back lazily resting against the wall as he tried to blend out the misgivings of the young woman on the phone.

"Uncle Bruce you should have told me!" Bella's accusing tone soon faded into silence though as she finally started to listen in earnest.

"At least according to plans he should have." Andrew murmured clearly irritated, but too worn out to care. It wasn't like he had counted on Smith's assistance. The years spent with Catherine did teach him better than that. The tendency the old family friend seemed to have to make his own life hard was no secret, especially not since Catherine had left for Hawaii. Yet as for making the transition for Bella more difficult than necessary, that was something he just couldn't understand.

However, he was not in the mood to argue. Feeling constantly drained since Catherine's departure and emotionally paralyzed after having received news from her death, he felt very little motivation to remind Smith at promises he had made to his client.

Instead, his mind used the momentary peace that settled around him to wander. Back to happier days when no loud word had ever fallen within the walls of the old house, which he had grown to love as his own home. Times when Catherine's glowing personality and radiance were almost palpable in the air. The scent of lavender slowly seemed to return to him as he closed his eyes. The fragrance of her perfume suited her so well, flowery gentleness and elegance with a touch of fiery passion evoked by oriental spices, and all of them melting into a sensual harmony. The memory of it drew him under her spell as much as the images that started floating back to him.

The sound of her laughter: so soft and utterly ladylike, never rising above a chuckle. The texture of golden locks dipped in honey and sliding between his trembling fingers like liquid silk. Pure sunshine. Her every touch reminded him either of loving warm caresses, or burning desire that shut through both of them with an almost primal need. How many times did he rest his head tired and aching from the pressure and worries of the world in the soft nest of her lap he couldn't tell anymore. All he knew was that he longed for her caring warmth and guiding strength with a desperation he hadn't even known existed within him before he met her.

She would never look at him again with desire burning in her lovely blue eyes, he'd never see her features constrict again in the ecstatic haze of complete abandon. Those smooth arms that lend him strength and security would never hug him again close in their possessive embrace, neither would her rosy lips capture his hungry tongue to claim him as her own with a deep, passionate kiss. Her vibrant personality people felt drawn too, the elegant grace with which she handled every challenge of life, the peace she could give him with a single touch had been forever taken from his life to fade away slowly in the fragile world of his memories.

Catherine. His Catherine. She was gone.

Andrew's grey eyes opened to look up at one of the many paintings she had inspired. She had never allowed him to draw or paint her, yet she was still there in every single movement when he lifted the brush or pencil, in every shade he used, in every theme he picked over the past years. His muse and source of inspiration had all along accompanied him on his quest to search for his voice as an artist.

She had been his companion in many ways, had encouraged and strengthened him when ideas eluded his mind, through artist's blocks and maniac phases of creation she had been there, right by his side. She seemed to value his artistic attempts regardless of their quality and not out of neglect of perfection or true beauty, rather decorating her home with them despite her exquisite taste.

"Nothing is more perfect than reality. Accept no substitutions." She used to tell him calmly, whenever he got discouraged by the results of his efforts.

The words still echoed in his head. He could almost feel her breath on his cheek, so warm and soothing, little puffs full of erotic promises for the night to come.

The smile on his lips was melancholic as he descended the stairs, secretly hoping that he might find Catherine seated at the breakfast table, wrapped in nothing but her pale yellow silky kimono. Her eyes would pierce him the very moment he'd enter the kitchen. The corners of her sweet mouth would tilt up just the slightest bit at the sight of his messy hair before she'd hide her amusement behind an impatient frown.

Andrew could never bear the idea of her slender eyebrows knit, her eyes shielding the emotions welling up in her heart with the icy stare that appeared every time she was displeased with him. A single look of disappointment on her face literally used to bring him down onto his knees, seeking her favor immediately. His system seemed to crave her approval as much as the air to breath.

He would come to her eagerly, shower her shapely calves with adoring butterfly kisses, tickle the side of her knees with the tip of his tongue, longing and hopeful to hear her soft sighs of contentment as his warm lips trace up along her legs slowly, starting to build her desire for him. She used to make him work for every single inch her thighs reluctantly parted under his hot breath, reaching higher and higher while worshipping the smooth skin of her inner thighs with hungry, wet kisses. Her unique fragrance urged him on, sweeter and more appealing than any artificial scent. It would slowly ripen from the pure feminine essence of the desire his caresses had heated to the evidence of burning lust by the time the tip of his nose brushed against the smooth center of their mutual pleasure.

Instead of his adored companion the image of Catherine's upset niece welcomed him on entering the kitchen area. His heart fell as reality returned to him, yet the way the young woman was sitting at the counter, with her fingers drumming on the Italian marble and her dark brows furrowed, reflecting the effort she must have put into digesting the information received that day, the faintest of all smiles crossed his lips. Her looks and gestures could hardly ever come anywhere close to her aunt's beauty and grace, but neither could the fact be denied that the two of them were unmistakably related.

"So has Madam already decided on breakfast?" He asked in a teasing and overly upbeat voice, moving around the kitchen with a familiar ease that only deepened her frown.

"I'd like to talk first." she insisted, slipping off the chair and moving over to the table as he came around to inspect the content of the fridge.

"Omelets are my specialty, but would probably have less appeal to someone with your tastes, so how about pancakes with jam, or strawberry and some whipped cream?" He asked casually, starting to get out the ingredients.

Grateful for being able to get engrossed in the preparations, he avoided her eyes but couldn't help noticing the irritated little "Humph!" his choice of words coaxed out of her.

Bella placed her hands on her hips and raised her chin in a subconscious gesture.

"Someone with my tastes doesn't want breakfast. I want to talk. Now!" she barked back at him, the initial disbelief that had her temper partly paralyzed after having learned about her aunt's relation with this man turning into the first breezes of a furious storm.

Breaking up one egg after the other he merely shrugged, his attention never leaving the bowl in front of him.

"Too bad. I want breakfast." He threw back and she thought she had seen his eyes light up for a moment before he haphazardly added "Now."

Her eyes widened for a moment but soon narrowed, catching the mocking in his tone unmistakably. Having her flaring temper usually under the tight control of her shy demeanor, Bella had got used to not having the final say in most cases, yet something about his behaviour just made her snap. Spending her teenage years as the chubby ugly duckling had given her a quite thick skin when it came to teasing, but the idea of an invading gigolo making fun of her in her very own home seemed just too much to tolerate!

"How dare you talk to me like that!" She demanded walking up to him with steady strides and a piercing glare. "This is my home, my house, how dare you tell me what to do?!"

She came to a sudden halt when he turned from the counter, leaving barely a few inches between their bodies. Why do tall people just seem so intimidating? She wondered, her teeth dancing over her bottom lip nervously. Her insecurities, however, only lasted a moment. As soon as he cocked an eyebrow at her questioningly, she already remembered the attitude that had made her initially want to slap him. Instead her eyes narrowed.

"You might have manipulated my aunt but that is certainly not going to work with me. I don't care how much she payed you and how much extra you took, the merry days are over! This is my house and I want you out of here!" she hissed at him with a determined glare before her lips curled into a sarcastic little smile. "Now!"

She blinked. Again and again. Not believing that he actually started laughing at her. She was close enough to feel his breath on her face as he threw his head back and broke into a hearty laughter, his chest rumbling under his white polo shirt. Her ears registered the rich sound she had already become so enamoured with earlier, making her mind almost forget about the actual situation.

"Just what do you think is so funny?!" she demanded feeling the control of the moment slip more and more out of her hands with every suppressed chuckle he tried to fight in vain.

His eyes seemed to shimmer in the bright midday light with tiny greenish flecks and she couldn't help but notice how handsome his face became when he seemed to have fun, reminding her a little of a boy who was enjoying his triumph after having pulled her pigtails.

"So, how many pancakes does Madam wish?" he asked with a wink after regaining his composure.

"Fine!" Bella threw her arms up in defeat and turning her back on him sat down at the table. "Don't bother to poison my share though." she spat back over her shoulder.

How could life be just so incredibly unfair?!! Her mind demanded over and over. Fighting her natural curiosity by refusing to turn around, even as the heavenly sweet smell of steaming pancakes started to invade her private space, was simply a matter of integrity. But having a full plate put in front of her, topped with a big fluffy pile of hand whipped cream and half cut strawberries that made her mouth water and her stomach make demands loud enough to cause the expectant cook almost choke on his own bite ... Well, that was simply just cruel. She eyed the rich breakfast with a growing longing on her face, sneaking occasionally a glance at the handsome man digging his fork enthusiastically into his own pile of pancakes.

She folded her arms in front of her chest to ensure she'd withstand the temptations to try either of the deliciously smelling food, or the full, inviting lips that closed around each bite with a leisurely embrace, slowly feasting on the taste, occasionally parting slightly for the tip of his tongue to sneak out and lick an escaping drop of fruit juice from the corner of that sensuous mouth.

Andrew's own eyes were fixed on her as he ate with intentional leisure, watching with interest as the longing for the food turned into a completely different craving on her face. She seemed engrossed enough in her own observation to grow unaware of his staring. He noticed her lips parting and curving, her eyelids growing heavy and her breathing just ever so slightly laboured. The strawberry freckles over her nose and cheeks drew his attention, awakening the irrational idea of wanting to count them on both sides and establishing whether or not they were symmetric.

Her mind barely registered when he finally cleared his throat with a lascivious grin blooming on his handsome face. Realization dawned to her that she'd been caught staring at him, and she dropped her eyes immediately to her plate, her cheeks turning an enchanting shade of red.

"I take it having misjudged Madam's tastes?" he asked teasingly, pointing at her full plate.

Bella's embarrassment vanished instantly. "Would you stop calling me that?!"

"How am I supposed to address you than Miss Daniels?" he kept probing but ducked his head instinctively at her glare.

"Definitely not as a bunch of 7 year olds!" she growled back at him but ended up returning his smile with a shrug. "Bella will do." she added casually.

"Ok, Bella it is," he nodded his acceptance but still couldn't help the wink. "For now."

"You won't have to use it much longer anyway since you are leaving." she smiled sweetly at him after rolling her eyes.

Andrew leaned back in his chair, toying with the last strawberry on his plate. "Let me guess ... You are determined to defend your aunt's heritage and good name, or what there is left of it, from the calculative and manipulative stud who had been servicing her needs to get his hand on her credit cards. And on top of that, now even wants to take away your very home. And good old Smith is more than willing to assist, perhaps already preparing to attack Catherine's testament for you." His eyes were cold and sarcastic without the slightest bit of amusement in his voice.

The young woman shifted in her seat and shrugged.

"It is a ridiculous idea for a stranger to have a lifelong live-in right in a home that has belonged to the Beaumont family for the past hundred twenty years. My aunt obviously meant to express her gratitude for your err ... services. I'm sure we can compensate your loss though in other ways," she offered suggestively.

The smile on Andrew's lips was so cold that it made her shiver for a moment.

"You really think that, don't you? You really think that it's been only about money." He shook his head standing from the table and gathering the dishes with a sigh. "I'm afraid, Bella, we won't reach an understanding anytime soon."

She frowned with annoyance, standing and following him to the sink.

"Lets speed up things then. Name your price and we'll consider it. The sooner we get rid of each other the better. I'll have my home back and you can go and ..."

"And look for a new victim?!" He turned suddenly, dropping the plates to shatter in the sink. "That's what you wanted to say, just didn't have the guts, wasn't it?" He demanded accusingly.

"I learned about having lost my aunt, the only family I was left, a mere week ago. It's been a hell of a day, I'm exhausted from flying and don't have the patience or the nerves to argue with a gigolo right now. I want you out of here! I don't care how much it costs, I want you out!!!" She ended up spatting the words in his face with weariness and desperation mingling in her fury.

"Well, that's too bad, dearest Bella. Forgive me if I don't run comforting you! I happen to have lost the most amazing person I've spent the past 4 years of my life with, a quite significant period of time in which you never seemed to remember your one and only family tie! You traded your aunt for some childish idealism years ago and left her with more pain and self accusation than such a caring and warmhearted woman would have ever deserved. Don't you dare lecture me kid, on what you want and how you're gonna compensate my loss, cause frankly, I don't give a damn about either!" His fist came down hard on the remnants of the porcelain in the sink before he turned and headed upstairs, instead of doing something he'd be likely to regret later.

Taking two at a time he ascended the stairs, his pulse roaring in his ears. By the time he tore the door to his bedroom open his fists had unclenched, the familiarity of the pictures around the bed overwhelming him with a sense of desperate longing. Slamming the door shut he went straight for the bed, dropping to his knees and hugging one of the big oriental cushions close as hot tears started to wet his cheeks. He missed Catherine at that moment more than ever before, how fed up he had already become with her absence! His anger faded slowly into weakness as self pity finally overpowered his temper, forcing him to drop the mask he had been wearing around others and allowing his emotions to flow freely.

"You arrogant selfish jerk! If you dare to slam my own door into my face again I swear I'll ..." Bella's breath caught in her throat and her flaring eyes softened with confusion overtaking her features.

As a second grade elementary school teacher she had got used to deal with the occasional tear and outburst over her short teaching experience of 7 months, but watching a grown man shake with sobs was something she hadn't been prepared for on seeking revenge for his verbal assaults.

She stood there is the doorway, feeling her heart reach out for him, but also more and more uncomfortable and inept with every moment passing. Finally she couldn't take it anymore, her female instincts took over and she hesitantly walked up quietly to the bed.

Andrew felt the bed shift a little just before a soft, warm touch met his right shoulder. He pushed his face even tighter into the moist cover of the pillows, refusing to look up, while his fists grabbed the violet sheets for dear life. He only longed to feel, to devour the sensation of being comforted and held, of gentle fingers caressing his messy hair, the feminine warmth and softness around him, inviting him to let go of the pain. His mind was aware that those arms were not Catherine's, yet his heart refused to dwell upon such nuances. It felt so soothing, so warm, so right.

When he had calmed down enough to come to his senses again he was surprised to hear a soft voice whispering in his ear.

"Shhhh, it's ok. Just let it all out. I know it hurts bad now, but it will get better with time. Everything will be alright. I promise."

He kept his eyes closed tightly, his cheek brushing against the texture of soft wool, his arms tightening around something firmer and much warmer than a pillow, as the soothing caresses on his temple slowly put his mind at ease.

Long, wet lashes parted as his eyes opened, slowly focusing on an understanding and genuinely concerned face. Big brown pools of pure warmth shown down on him with a gentleness that made his heart ache anew.

"I ... I miss her too, you know." Bella's voice broke with emotion. She hugged him close again, squeezing tight for a long moment, before guiding his head back to rest in her lap.

There was something so vulnerable and genuinely fragile in him as he broke down that she couldn't remain unaffected. The sorrow that clouded his beautiful eyes along with the unshed tears touched her with an intensity she would have hardly expected. "He is heartbroken and needs comforting ... just like me." Bella realized with sympathy.

As she rocked his kneeling form slowly back and fro she looked up at the picture on the far wall: a man in need and a giving woman entwined in a loving embrace. She smiled just the faintest bit, the embarrassment and emptiness she had felt earlier upon gazing at the couple replaced by a rush of tenderness and contentment she couldn't explain.

Perhaps Andrew was right. She had missed out on a lot over the past few years and might have been on her own for too long. Perhaps it was time to come home.

*

Author's note: If you made it this far please take a minute and let me know what you think. Thank you.