‘Right. Shouldn’t he be in jail then? How do you know he’s a thief?’
‘Common knowledge. Been stealing for years. We were warned about him when we took over our claim. He holds the one next to ours. He’s had it in for me ever since Harry and I outbid him for the Underground.’
‘If everyone knows he’s a thief, why isn’t he in jail?’
‘Hasn’t been caught.’ He looked at her meaningfully. ‘Yet. But he’ll get his, nothing surer.’
‘In a perfect world payback for no-good bastards would be automatic.’ The morality of just desserts was something she agreed with wholeheartedly.
‘You sound vengeful.’ He regarded her with his good eye as she dabbed ointment on the cut underneath. ‘Not something I would’ve expected from you.’
‘Why? Because I’m so sweet?’ She pulled her best saccharine expression as she stood back to peruse her handiwork. Bruising would follow but she’d stopped the bleeding.
He offered her a tattered smile before his handsome features sobered. ‘No, because wanting revenge is destructive. It ends up hurting you more than the person you want revenge on. I’ve never associated you with such negativity. Who could you possibly despise that much?’
Jamie’s words hurt and she flinched inwardly. The satisfaction of seeing even some small retribution for everything Roger had put her and Drew through had been part of her for so long now it seemed it had become second nature. The inference that hating her ex was doing her more harm than good was not a welcome thought.
She’d believed she was over the worst—on the comeback trail to finding herself again—but clearly she still had a lot to figure out. Had struggling to reinvent her life really left her so bitter it showed? She searched for the words to justify her acrimony without having to admit to Jamie the full shame of all she’d endured at her ex-husband’s hands.
‘Roger,’ she admitted finally. ‘I despise Roger.’
Jamie’s mouth compressed into a colourless line, his puff-eyed gaze riveted on her; she had his full attention. ‘What has that mongrel done to you?’
‘You know the old saying, “marry in haste, repent at leisure”? That pretty much sums up our marriage. Roger ... ’ Unprepared for the waves of hurt as memories swamped her, she stopped and forced a deep breath. ‘Let’s just say he isn’t the person I thought he was.’
A flicker of disgust passed over Jamie’s face. ‘The guy was always a bastard. I could’ve told you that.’
If you’d still been around, there’d have been no need to tell me. And by the time you came back it was too late for us, unless you’d been willing to stay. The reminder of the way things had ended between them left her scrambling to defend the fact that she’d married on the rebound. ‘To be fair, we all have sides we’d prefer not to acknowledge. Maybe I wasn’t the person he believed me to be, either.’
‘What do you mean?’ he demanded.
‘You remember what I was like. Starry-eyed, seeing only what I wanted to see, which wasn’t always the way things were in reality. I believed every relationship would be like my parents’—loving, supportive, family-oriented—and I thought Roger would provide a safe, solid future for me and my—’ She caught herself in time. ‘For me.’
Jamie sat without speaking while she fussed around, collecting the bloodied cotton-wool balls then tossing them into the bin. Her show of composure was superficial; her heart thundered in her ears. Had she given herself away?
‘You still haven’t told me what he’s done.’
A sigh of relief whistled past her lips as she packed the antiseptic cream and cotton wool back into the first-aid kit. ‘Roger had—still has—an ego in need of constant feeding.’
Jamie hmphed.
‘I ... well, I couldn’t satisfy that, but it seems there were some good-looking young things at the university willing to do anything for a handsome professor, even if a wife waited in the wings.’
His battered face hardened into lines of shocked disbelief. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. He’s been unfaithful to you?’
She nodded. ‘I had my suspicions, but I no longer trusted my instincts and ignorance is bliss, right? I let things ride until one particular girl he’d been involved with came to my house to set me straight.’ A sharp pain sliced through her chest, recalling the confrontation.
‘Ouch!’
‘Yeah, ouch.’ Over the years she’d come to believe her ex’s betrayal had lost its power to lacerate her heart, but clearly it hadn’t. ‘I felt like such an idiot. Roger denied the infidelity, but the evidence was obvious. When he finally owned up, he apologised, said it would never happen again.’ She shrugged, aiming for indifference rather than allow her sudden self-pity to show. ‘But it did.’
‘How did you handle that?’ Anger lowered his tone to a deep bass.
‘I put up with it. I must have been the joke of the campus, pretending it wasn’t happening. At the time, losing my own self-respect was worth not having to admit to the world I’d been wrong in my choice of husband.’ Detecting an imminent break in her voice, she rounded on him. ‘You know I hate making mistakes. I had to do whatever I could to stay married.’ And Drew’s welfare was more important than mine.
‘Gem, tell me you’re not still with him.’ Jamie took her hand and squeezed it, a show of support that threatened to bring unwanted tears. That was the last thing she needed right now.
‘I’m not,’ she said, withdrawing her hand.
‘Why did you ... ’ He paused, his expression troubled. ‘Why did you make out like you were still married?’
‘We are still married. Technically. The divorce order was handed down two weeks ago but won’t take legal effect for another two weeks. Roger was out of the country when it went to court. He works for an American private collector these days.’
‘I see.’ Jamie’s expression was unreadable.
‘We’ve been separated for over two years but he’s had ... difficulty accepting it’s over.’ Understatement of the century. Her ex’s harassment over the phone, his endless promises that he was a changed man, the ultimatums that always followed her refusal to return to him, continued to take their toll. ‘There’s no way I’ll ever go back.’ She had to bite her lip to stop from trembling; just the thought of her ex brought on the shakes. ‘Drew and I are doing fine without him.’
Jamie said nothing for what seemed an eternity. ‘Who’s Drew?’
Gem blinked furiously. In her haste to get everything out she hadn’t monitored her words carefully enough. She swallowed thickly. ‘My son.’
‘You’ve never mentioned you had a child.’
‘You never asked.’
‘Didn’t even cross my mind.’ His broad shoulders were slumped as if under the weight of a powerful emotion. Then, barely perceptibly, he nodded. ‘You did the right thing for you both. No wonder you despise his father.’
Guilt sank like a boulder to the bottom of her stomach; these were dangerous waters. What could she say to that? ‘I have nothing but contempt for Roger and I fantasise constantly about some sort of payback. I’m not proud of it, but there it is.’
‘I never had time for the guy and you’ve just given me even more reason to dislike him, so go ahead, vent all you want.’
‘As you’ve pointed out, what will that achieve but to make me even more bitter?’ She sighed, suddenly bone-weary from the unexpected unburdening. ‘I’m tired, Jamie. Tired of living with the anger. My life is so far from how I pictured it.’
I pictured it with you.
A brief memory stirred; an image of herself and Jamie laughing and holding hands as they raced across campus, late for their lecture after a morning’s lovemaking. She missed the love of life, the optimism of the fun-loving person she’d been back then, with a hollow, yearning ache.
‘Getting it out once and for all might help you to let it go.’
‘That’s what I’m battling with. Over the years we were together Roger managed to suck out every ounce of self-respe
ct I ever had. I keep thinking I’ll be able to move on once I prove to him I’m not the worthless nobody he made me think I am.’
‘Oh, Gem.’ Jamie stood and moved close. ‘You’re not worthless.’ His fingers trailed up the side of her neck, smoothed some loose tendrils of hair back from her face, traced the curve of an ear. ‘You are a beautiful, desirable, intelligent woman with so much to offer.’
His breath, warm on her cheek, sent tingles spiralling through her. ‘I am?’ she whispered across the tiny space swirling with undercurrents between them, hardly daring to believe his words.
‘You are.’ He stared earnestly into her eyes.
She lowered her gaze to his lips, now so close to her own, remembering the exquisite pleasure of being kissed by him, and knew she was in over her head and going down fast. She’d been celibate for so long, refusing to acknowledge the natural stirrings of her body, but the drive of desire, something she thought she’d never experience again, emptied her mind as her body took control. ‘Show me you mean that.’
He reached out and freed her hair. It tumbled loose about her shoulders and he curled a strand around his fingers. For several breaths they stayed like that, faces only inches apart, the warmth emanating from his body penetrating her own. She cradled his bruised cheek in her palm and he gently nuzzled the inside of her hand. The rough texture of his skin, the heat coming off him in pulsating waves, the masculine scent of him, engulfed her senses.
Then his mouth was all around hers, his lips hungrily coaxing a response. Senses spinning, she kissed him back, one hand clasping his neck, the other pushing through the untidy thatch of his hair. It was soft and shaggy and she thrilled at the thickness of it between her outspread fingers.
Without warning his muscled arms wrapped her up, sweeping her off her feet and making her gasp. He lowered her onto the bed and climbed beside her. Her body remembered and instinctively she plastered herself against his side, melting into the hard strength of him, revelling in the sensations his touch created inside her.
Legs entwined, bodies pressed together, they kissed tenderly for the longest time. And while they kissed his hands moved over her, pressing, moulding, massaging. He knew exactly how to touch her; every movement, every pressure point, every little trick it took to make her insides ache with longing for him.
Gradually the kisses grew deeper as lips parted and tongues tangled. Their combined breathing came as a fevered rush, setting her stomach muscles quivering and her heart hammering against her ribcage. Her sensitivity to his touch aroused a low moan and Jamie groaned, deep in his throat.
He broke free of her mouth. ‘I can’t do this,’ he said, his voice thick.
‘Wha—why?’ she protested, disoriented by the abrupt turnabout, sparks of lust still firing inside.
‘This is messing with my head, Gem.’ He pulled himself upright and rolled his long legs off the side of the bed and sat staring at the floor. When he turned back, his expression was one of confusion. ‘I want you.’ His heavy-lidded gaze flicked the length of her still-prostrate body. ‘But—’, a cold chill sprinkled goose bumps all over her body, ‘—you’re still hurting from everything you’ve been through, and you’ve made it clear you want retribution. If you’re thinking of our making love as something to throw at Roger as proof of your worth, it won’t work. You have nothing to prove to him; you have to accept it yourself. And until you do, I won’t take advantage.’
What the ... ? What was he doing, turning chivalrous on her again? She didn’t want chivalry. She wanted passion so brain-numbing she didn’t have to think about what she was doing or why she was doing it.
She swallowed hard. ‘Maybe I want to be taken advantage of.’ Maybe? Of course she wanted to. What she was feeling was so agonizingly wonderful she didn’t want it to end. Her tightly reined heart might not be committed, but right this minute her body was his for the taking.
Slowly he shook his head. ‘We still have issues to sort out and I won’t risk hurting you.’ He leaned over and brushed her forehead with his mouth.
‘I’m a grown-up, Jamie. I don’t need you to make my choices for me. I make them myself and live with the consequences.’ She cursed the unexpected quaver in her voice.
He nodded as he stood. ‘And when your choice is to make love with me purely because it’s what you want, and not out of some misguided notion of revenge, I’ll be waiting. The Gem I used to know is in there somewhere.’ He stared intently back at her from the door. ‘Please don’t leave tomorrow.’ The door clicked shut behind him.
If she had the strength to analyse her feelings in the minutes after he left she might have discovered that his words made her feel desired and cared for and respected. And they may just have renewed some of her respect for him. But awareness of her motive in inviting him to her room, to take advantage of him, lay more heavily on her than she liked.
She wished the thought away and fell back against the soft pile of pillows, his words playing on her mind. So Jamie believed the old Gem was still somewhere inside, did he? The idea almost appealed—for a fraction of a second.
No. No chance of that.
Time and conditions change everyone and everything. Gracie was a prime example; one minute alive and almost ready to give birth, the next minute dead in a shallow sea, a hundred million years later an opalised skeleton. Her own life circumstances had forced her down roads she’d never dreamed of taking, and she’d been through too many heartaches along the way not to have emerged unscathed.
She was also a mother now. Naturally she’d changed. Irrevocably. And if maintaining the rage helped her to survive the hurt and the humiliation of her marriage, then that’s what she’d continue to do. Jamie meant well, but he didn’t know her anymore.
He had given her something to ponder though; one thought clear-cut enough for her weary mind to grasp after all that had just happened. Though a lot had remained unspoken, the fact that he’d mentioned their issues and asked her to stay must count for something.
Anticipation surged. He had to be reconsidering his plans for Gracie.
Chapter 9
‘I thought you liked challenges.’ Jamie studied the end of the moist pink tongue caught between two luscious lips.
‘Challenges, yes. Impossibilities, no.’
‘Grip further up.’ He took her small hand with his own large, work-roughened one and demonstrated where her fingers needed to be.
On her knees in front of him, Gem went in for closer inspection, focusing the torch beam on the tool she held. Her blue eyes glittered with concentration. ‘Ohh, I see.’
They were in one of the many tunnels leading off the Ballroom. Jamie didn’t know what had come over him last night when he’d asked her to stay. He wasn’t about to change his mind over Gracie but he also wasn’t ready to let this woman disappear from his life. Not now that he’d found her again.
His Gem.
How prescient her name had turned out to be. She was a precious jewel: sparkling, beautiful, brilliant. But also cold at times, and hard-edged. Although with good reason. His jaw tightened, recalling things she’d revealed. Roger Devane had a helluva lot to answer for.
Helpless, useless in the face of her hurt, he’d wanted desperately to find some way to protect her, to kiss away the shadows in her lovely eyes, to heal her wounds and keep her safe. In order to do that he needed her close. The sense of relief at breakfast this morning when she’d informed him she’d be staying a few more days outweighed the concern over their differences regarding Gracie. For the moment, anyway. She’d met his invitation to experience the fun of digging for opals with unbridled enthusiasm.
‘Is this right?’
‘Use the other side.’ He indicated the chiselled edge of his own pick then gouged a chunk of opal dirt from the wall. It crumbled into mullock as he rubbed it between his fingers, the pungent aroma of freshly disturbed earth rising to surround them.
Squatting back on her heels in a pile of loam, Gem followed his instructions, wieldi
ng her pick at the clay. Several clods fell to the floor and he showed her how to chip at the clumps, listening for the chink of metal on potch, probing for any stones.
When she had the right idea he retired a short distance along the tunnel, preferring sitting on his tail to squatting. It saved wear and tear on his knees and also enabled him to watch her while she worked.
And man, was she worth watching.
Every arm-lift ended in a suggestive wiggle of denim-clad butt. Streaky blonde tresses tumbled from under her hard hat down over her slim t-shirted shoulders. He loved that she’d worn her hair down today; her defences appeared to have come down with it.
This was the Gem of old, the girl he’d fallen for the first time he’d seen her, walking past the protest meeting he’d been addressing on the green, glancing sideways at him, smiling back over her shoulder as she disappeared. He’d found out her name, discovered she was studying palaeontology, as he was, and that they were enrolled in some of the same classes. They were inseparable from their first date, and he’d become her first lover.
Over the years since then, sensual memories of her had at odd times popped into his head, reminding him of just what he’d left behind in going off to Western Australia with Harry. Sadly, Gem hadn’t understood that the promise he and his father had made each other after his mother’s death, to always be there for one another, could not be broken.
‘This is ... harder than it ... looks.’ The sounds of her exertion pushed his thoughts from distant past to last night. She’d been panting then too.
So had he.
Yep, that old electricity was still there, pulsing between them. It wasn’t just his own overheated imagination to blame for the situation they’d found themselves in. Gem’s delectable body had been his for the taking; the same hunger pounding through his body had been coursing through hers. Nothing surer.
He thought he’d die with wanting her. But in the wake of her disclosures she’d been far too achingly vulnerable, and taking advantage was not his style.
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