by West, Cara
Megan knew she'd made a mistake the minute the words left her lips.
He turned away and methodically lifted the last strips of bacon from the pan.
"No," he said. "I don't think our going to bed with each other has given me any rights or privileges."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," she said in a rush. Hopping off the counter, she marched into his arms. "You have all sorts of rights and privileges. I was only being tacky and defensive because I know you're right. This move of mine was premature. But I burned my bridges yesterday."
"What do you mean?"
"Dad and I had words before I left the house."
"What about?" Nate asked carefully as he held her in a loose embrace.
"I told him I was moving because I didn't want to wait around for him to die."
Nate sucked in a sharp breath. "What did he say to that?"
"Actually, after a moment, he listened to me. You were right—in a way he blames himself. I don't know if I helped by saying what I did, but he seemed to accept my moving out."
"How about Molly?"
"She hasn't quite accepted it. But I figure she'll be over here in three or four days. She won't be able to help herself."
Nate laughed softly. "I give her three days tops. I expect she'll insist on supplying half your furniture."
"I wondered when you'd figure that out." Megan snuggled against his chest.
They stood for a moment in each other's arms, the picture of morning-after intimacy. Yet Megan felt a wall of unspoken words between them. His glance had been evasive from the moment she'd walked in.
She knew she'd guessed right when Nate asked his next question.
"Is that the only thing your father and you talked about?"
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Yes, you are." Nate waited. "Megan, tell me," he prodded when she didn't speak.
"He hasn't come to grips with you and me." She snapped the words out, goaded. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"No. But I needed the truth. Although I'd already guessed it from what Sam said to me. Thank you for being honest." He freed himself and turned back to the stove. "I'll put the bagels in to toast. That is, if the broiler's operational."
He set about his task as if they hadn't just brushed against an unpleasant topic.
She let him putter with breakfast, not sure what else to say.
Within minutes the bagels had turned an uneven brown. He whipped them out of the oven and onto a plate. Opening the cream cheese, he gestured for her to help him gather up the breakfast.
They moved to her office and dined at her desk.
After she'd demolished four strips of bacon and one whole bagel with cream cheese, she came up for air.
"I was starved," she said. "I guess I missed dinner last night."
She imagined Nate had, too. Yet this morning he'd done scant justice to the meal he'd cooked, and now he was nursing a cup of black coffee.
His expression was bland yet tightly controlled. His lips were clamped tightly together. His eyelids were hooded to mask what he was thinking.
And from the moment they'd embraced in the kitchen, he'd been putting on a show of congeniality that didn't quite ring true.
She took another swallow of her coffee and faced him squarely. "Nate, we have to talk."
"What about?"
"Last night." She waited. "Nate, please talk to me. I can tell you're unhappy."
"Last night is over and done with. It can't be taken back."
"Why would you want to? Please tell me, Nate."
"The time for talking is over. I think too many things have been said already."
"You mean your argument with Sam?"
"You were right. I shouldn't have gone to him. It didn't do any good."
"Oh, I don't know. I got the chance to tell him a few home truths."
"Yes, you did, didn't you?" Nate smiled faintly.
"He needs to stay the hell out of our lives."
When Nate didn't respond, she sat back and studied him. "Nate, come on. I need to hear what you're thinking."
"Oh, Megan, let's not go into it." He gave a weary sigh, his face suddenly as desolate as she'd ever seen it.
Her chest constricted with pain.
"Get into what?" she asked. "The argument with Sam or our going to bed together?"
"Both," he said gruffly.
When he saw her expression, his face resumed its masklike control. "Megan—" he leaned over the desk to catch her hand "—don't pay any attention to my mood this morning. I'm just not used to being swept off my feet. It's made me a little grouchy. But what's done is done. We'll start from here."
"And where will we go?"
"Wherever you want to take us."
"Don't you have a say?"
"I'm said and done." He stood and walked around behind her, settling his fingers on her shoulders. He massaged them gently, then bent to nuzzle her neck.
Inhaling deeply, he murmured, "Mmm, you smell good." His hands drifted lower until they covered her breasts.
Her heart began to race with sensual stirrings. But she couldn't forget the despair in his eyes.
"Nate..."
He worried her nipples and kissed her neck.
She felt herself succumbing to his potent ministrations, and for the first time she felt as if he was maneuvering them into sex.
Jumping from her chair, she backed away from where he stood.
"No, you can't sidetrack me," she said quietly but firmly.
He cocked a brow. "Don't I get to return the favor?"
She shook her head. "I was right. You do wish last night hadn't happened. I just wish I knew why." She knew she should stop harping on the point, but her guilt seemed to goad her toward a confrontation.
"It happened too soon," he said. "I'd rather we'd talked." When he saw her expression, he repeated, "But it's over and done with." The statement was starting to sound like a mantra.
"If s over, but not done with, and you know that as well as I." She took a deep breath. "Let's start all over. I'm sorry I attacked you last night. I don't regret my anger. But I'm sorry I didn't let you have your say."
"No." He shook his head. "I don't want you to feel bad. I could've stopped us."
She smiled ironically. "I don't see how. I was hellbent on getting you into bed."
"So you were," he acknowledged.
"You seem to forget—by now I have your number."
"I'm vulnerable to you, if that's what you're saying. I love you, Megan."
"You've already said that." She surveyed him intently. "Are you certain you mean it?"
He recoiled as though slapped. "What are you saying?"
"Maybe you were trying to prove something to Sam by declaring it."
"No, damn it!"
His mask crumbled into pieces. She saw anger, hurt and disbelief among the rubble, and she wished with all her heart she could undo what she'd just said.
"Are you telling me," he asked, "that you don't think I'm capable of understanding what love is? Do you agree with Sam and the rest of your family?"
"No." Now that she'd spoken, she had to explain herself. "I'm just saying that perhaps you feel you have to love me. Perhaps that's the only way you can justify taking me to bed."
"I haven't taken you to bed," he said a little wildly. "I wanted to wait."
"Because of my family?"
"No. Because of me. Because—" he faced her, his expression raw and bleeding "—I didn't want us to have sex. I wanted to make love. And I wanted our lovemaking to be a part of our commitment. I wanted both of us to be sure of how we felt. Why did you insist on going to bed with me?"
"I told you. I was angry—with you and Sam. I wanted you. I've wanted you for too long, anyway."
"Too long? I didn't know we were on a schedule."
"You seem to think we are."
"And is that it? You wanted sex with me because you felt deprived?"
"No. You're putting words in my mouth."
"It's because you haven't spoken them." He held up his hands. "Hell—never mind what I just said."
He rubbed his face in an agitated gesture. "Please, Megan, can't you understand? I didn't want us to screw each other because we were handy and hadn't gotten any lately. I didn't want Sam's suspicions to be true. Don't you see? I wanted us to be different."
"So it's Sam again."
"We can't get away from him. Or Andrew or Molly. Or the rest of your family. They don't think I'm capable of love and commitment. I wanted very much to show them I'd changed."
"They haven't given you a chance to show them."
"That shouldn't have mattered!" Nate was almost shouting. His hands balled into fists. "I needed to feel I could change, as well. I wanted to give myself that chance. I wanted a courtship for myself, as well as for you."
"And you think I've taken it away."
He dragged his fingers through his hair. "Aw, hell. I hadn't meant to say all this."
"I'm glad you did."
She spoke with a calm that belied the whirlwind of emotions within her. Fury at herself for prodding him. Fear that she'd run him off with her words.
"Look, I'm not good company right now," he mumbled, stirring her darkest fears.
Even as she watched, he drew into himself until only a residue of pain marred his handsome features. "I think I'll call a cab."
"There's no need for that. I—I'll take you home."
"No. I need to be alone. For now, anyway."
"When will I see you again?"
He stared at her blankly. "I'm not sure. Soon." He dredged up a kiss. It was as cold as stone. "Soon. I'll call."
CHAPTER TEN
SHE WAS STANDING near a railing, peering out over the water. Watching, waiting for something to happen, while horror scuttled close like wisps of fog.
A grating jolt pitched her forward. Pain struck like lightning. She was screaming, falling. She had nothing to cling to...
No, she had Nate. He was somewhere near.
Somewhere in the fog. In the icy water. He reached toward her, called for her, but darkness divided them. Bells clanged insistently and drowned out his call.
Megan awoke in a jerk and stared around the bare room. The phone on the floor was ringing loudly. She reached down to answer it with a shaking hand.
"Hello?'
"Megan, this is Jenny. We need to talk."
"Yes." Megan took a steadying breath. "What... what time is it?"
"Nine o'clock. Did I wake you?"
''That's okay." Megan threw off the covers and swung her legs off the bed. "I'm usually awake before now, but I didn't sleep very well."
Jenny didn't delve into the reasons for Megan's insomnia. "I hadn't realized you'd moved until I talked to Molly. I called there hunting for you."
"I moved out day before yesterday."
Jenny didn't question the departure, either. Instead, she asked a more pertinent question. "Are you alone?"
"Yes."
"Then we should talk. Can I come over this morning?"
"Give me a chance to shower and dress, and I'll have coffee brewing."
"It's a deal," Jenny said. "See you in a little while."
After she hung up, Megan took a moment to clear her head.
She looked down at her hands. They'd stopped shaking, but she could still feel the inner tremors from her nightmare. She relived the horrifying sequence, recognizing at once the significance of the change.
Nate had entered her dreams because they were in one together. Except it was no dream, but a grim reality they shared. Only they didn't share it. They were divided by the fog.
She rubbed her face as if she could wipe away the images. All yesterday and last night, she'd felt as if she was waiting for a calamity. Only, the calamity had already happened. And she'd caused it herself.
WITHIN AN HOUR, Jenny showed up on Megan's doorstep. Underneath Jenny's tan, she looked pale and anxious. Much, Megan thought, the way she herself did.
They settled for small talk while Megan took Jenny around the house. Megan knew Jenny's mind was only peripherally on their tour, although she made suitable noises of approval. Afterward they went to pour their coffee.
"Nice refrigerator and stove," Jenny said, inspecting the new appliances. "Did they come with the house?''
Megan shook her head. "Nate sent them as a housewarming present." Despite the problems between them, he'd still been thinking of her welfare. As soon as the crates had arrived yesterday afternoon, she'd known she couldn't return them. She called to thank him, but she'd had to be content with thanking his answering machine.
Megan caught Jenny searching her face. Only then did she realize her attention had turned inward. She smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that. Anyway, Nate decided the old stove was hazardous. He was afraid I'd blow the house up the first time I tried to cook."
"Old habits die hard, don't they?" Jenny said.
"You mean Nate's protectiveness?"
"Yes."
"He tries not to hover. It's only occasionally that he gets out of hand." She gestured toward the kitchen door. "Let's go outside and sit on the porch. I don't have any chairs yet, but the steps aren't bad."
It was a glorious crisp morning. The drizzle from yesterday had left everything fresh and clean and glittering in the sun.
Ordinarily Megan's mood would have soared with the day. Instead, the clear autumn sunlight seemed to highlight her bleak emotions.
"Jenny, I've hurt Nate badly. And I'm not sure what to do."
Jenny responded just as bleakly. "Sam's talking about dissolving the partnership and selling the firm. I made him promise not to do anything rash. But I don't know how long I can keep him from it."
The two women stared at each other.
"It's all my fault," Megan whispered.
"I can't reason with Sam." Jenny shook her head. "He won't listen to me."
'I made Nate go against his principles, Jenny. I was just so angry, I got carried away."
"They argued. I finally made Sam tell me about it."
"I know," Megan said. "I heard part of it myself. That's one of the reasons I got so mad. Sam's interfering in my life."
"He feels he has to."
"Why?"
"Because," Jenny said, trying to explain her husband's motives, "he was the one who brought Nate into the family."
Megan waved the excuse away. "Sam's being unfair to both of us."
"He just doesn't realize how Nate has grown."
"Nate wanted something more for us," Megan said. "Something different from anything he'd had before."
"Yes. Nate didn't realize at first that he was in love. I'm not sure he understood what love between a woman and a man felt like."
"And I questioned his love. His reasons for declaring it."
Jenny sat back, her face blank with shock. "What? How could you?"
Megan stiffened defensively. "I had a right to. You did."
"No, Megan, no," Jenny's expression was troubled. "I never questioned his love, only his understanding. I thought you'd finally realized that Nate has loved you all your life."
"Not in the same way."
Jenny gestured a dismissal of Megan's argument. "The only difference is that his feelings have matured. I'll never forget the day we waited to hear if you were alive. He was out on Molly and Andrew's front porch. I joined him there."
"Yes?" Megan suddenly needed to hear Jenny's side of the story.
Jenny looked off into the distance, remembering. "I've never seen a man more shaken. He simply didn't know what to do with himself. That was because he couldn't comprehend his feelings. He... I'm not really sure what would have happened if you'd died. I don't think he'd ever have loved another woman."
"No. That can't be true."
"But it is, Megan. Do you see? The way he was raised—his mother and father. His feelings about his ability to invest in a relationship. If you'd died, his budding emotions would have died along with you. But now
that he has you..."
"Jenny, oh, Jenny, what have I done?"
Megan's voice was so despairing Jenny enfolded her in a hug.
"Nothing that can't be put right," Jenny said soothingly. Then her tone sharpened. "If only Andrew would get better. I know that's part of Sam's anger. His fears for his father."
"I talked to Dad before I left," Megan said. "I told him I couldn't sit around and wait for him die."
Jenny gasped.
"Well, that's what we're doing," Megan said impatiently. "And in the meantime, we're all acting crazy."
"It's because the Grants don't do well when they can't fix what's wrong. It's hard to accept loss when you're not used to coping with it. It was like this when they thought they might have lost you, Megan. Molly was totally immobilized. It was the first time I felt I had something to offer the family."
"How could you think that? I don't know what we'd do without you."
"But what good have I been this time, I ask you. I'm really scared about Sam's state of mind. I've never seen him this irrational."
"I know. I'm scared, too." Megan swallowed hard. "Listen, Jenny, something has happened, and I don't see how it can be fixed. I wouldn't tell you ordinarily, because it's so private. But this mess I've made is part of the whole thing. I had sex with Nate before he was ready. I dragged him into bed and practically forced him."
"You're probably the only woman who's ever had to force him," Jenny observed with a sad smile.
"It was glorious sex." Megan stared into her coffee mug. "The best ever. But it wasn't what he wanted. I've craved this man for fifteen years, and when I got the chance to have him, I messed up royally. He tried not to let me see how he felt, but he couldn't disguise his feelings."
"Not from you he couldn't." Jenny took one of Megan's hands in a comforting grasp.
They sat for a moment in silence.
"What should I do?" Megan finally asked.
"I'm not sure,'* Jenny answered. "I'm not sure what to do about Nate and Sam, either." She straightened as though gathering her resolve. "Megan, I wanted to say something to you this morning. It's one of the reasons I came over."