Free Secrets Of The Heart (Book 1, The Heart Series) by Laurie LeClair Page A

yesterday still surprised her. Gentle wasn’t a word she’d ever associated with Nick, not in conjunction with her at least. He’d sampled her lips, and then gauged her response before he carried on.
    There was tenderness in him, and compassion, only he refused to acknowledge that aspect of himself. Why would he hide that? Why would he deny that vital part of himself? Did he see it as a weakness?
    He suffered unduly, heaping mountains of accusations on his doorstep when in fact nothing of the sort rang true.
    She’d thought the closeness they’d shared last night would pave the way for a frank discussion on his son, therefore releasing Nick from his prison of guilt. But, he’d obstinately held onto his strong, unwavering stance on the entire matter, creating a wider rift between him and her.
    And Bree realized now, the more she revealed about her life, the greater jeopardy she placed Sydney in.
    Something I won’t fall prey to any time in the near future, she vowed, filling with steely conviction.
    Her past tainted her first marriage. She wouldn’t allow it to destroy her second. Hadn’t Nick made it perfectly clear he hated liars? She’d keep her secret barricaded behind a very high, unbreachable stone wall with Nick on the other side.
    But, she refused to disregard how Nick stirred a need in her, one that hinted at affection, caring, passion and so much more.
    She marveled at that untapped side of herself, the emotional neediness. No other man had approached that level of fulfillment, not even hinting at the wondrous delights a mere hug could evoke. No other man could give her the refuge she sought.
    Bree planned to seek haven in Nick’s arms. Hopefully, by doing so, he’d also find solace, and then grant himself some clemency for the whole host of crimes he swore he’d committed.
    With a growing sense of rightness, determination sprouted. She’d give Nick her body, quenching this deep-seated craving to be cherished by him, releasing him from his self-imposed torment, but she’d never relinquish her precious, fragile secret.
    That she’d guard with her life. And Sydney’s.
     
    ***
     
    Bree must have dozed off; the next thing she knew brilliant sunshine, like greedy fingers, clawed through the slats. The mouthwatering aroma of frying bacon, percolating coffee, and something else drifted to her. “Blueberries,” she identified the third distinct scent. She groaned in appreciation.
    Tossing off the covers, Bree rose hurriedly. Barefoot, and only wearing Nick’s UCONN sweatshirt, she padded across the highly polished wood floor, down the narrow hallway, and then the stairway. She ran her fingers through her hair, straightening it as she went.
    Rubbing the last of sleep out of her eyes, she rounded the corner to the large living room. Part of her wished to prolong her next meeting with Nick, wondering at the reception she’d get, and the other part stood in admiration. She loved this room.
    The comfortable red sofa and chairs invited guests to sit and relax. The many artifacts surrounding the large stone fireplace on matching floor-to-ceiling, built-in natural wood shelves spoke of Nick’s love of the Native American culture.
    His house in Connecticut held Nana’s touch. But here, in his log cabin, Nick’s personality, his passion, beamed bright and strong.
    She let her gaze sweep over the space, capturing the essence of the man she’d married. Tradition, heritage, family, loyalty, all screamed in unison. When she focused on the delicate sculpture of a mother cradling her infant, tenderness forged a path to Bree’s center.
    That elusive quality in Nick presented itself on rare occasions. Or maybe he purposely kept his compassion under wraps, she guessed. But it was there, an integral, endearing component to the man. One he claimed he didn’t possess.
    He lied.
    His deep voice intruded on her reverie, jolting her heart rate. He sang a familiar tune.
    Bree walked softly to the kitchen, and then leaned a