by Lilian Darcy
Kit escaped a few minutes later, before anyone had a chance to question her more closely.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘I’M SORRY, Kit.’ Gian’s voice rumbled low and husky in his chest, and his arms wrapped around her while she was still struggling to remember how to breathe. ‘That’s really all I can say. I’m just…sorry. I was tired, and tense, with a whole lot of stuff on my mind, and—No excuses. I’m just sorry.’
He’d hardly said anything on the phone an hour ago, just after breakfast. He’d simply given her the address of his unit in town and asked if she was free to meet him there this morning. She was, although she’d been tempted for a moment to make up an excuse. The clipped quality to their conversation suggested that he was still angry.
But just now, when he’d opened the door to her jittery presence…
‘It’s all right,’ she answered, her voice muffled against his shirt, because as soon as she was in his arms like this, hearing his low, emotional voice, it was the truth. Against all logic, everything was all right now.
He felt so warm and solid and male. His shirt smelled of eucalyptus detergent and sunshine, and his neck of coffee and sweet soap. His jaw pressed against her hair, and their legs tangled together, length to length. She couldn’t remember anything ever feeling this right before.
‘We won’t be alone for long,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry about that, too. Mum’s dropping Bonnie over. I wanted to see you, and I didn’t want to say no to her, since she so rarely suggests it. I hope that’s all right.’
‘Of course it is. I love Bonnie. And I wanted to see you, too.’
‘I’m so sorry about last night.’ He brushed his cheek against hers like a big cat, and she felt the corner of his mouth as it crossed hers. She wanted to capture it, keep it, kiss it.
‘It was a scare for all of us,’ she said.
‘And it wasn’t your fault. I should never have suggested that it was. We need a better policy in place. The chances of something like that happening for real have increased in recent years, with more complex blended families and some disaffected non-custodial fathers.’
‘A mother will usually alert us to that sort of situation, and disaffected fathers aren’t usually a loving presence during the birth. That’s why I never thought, last night—’
‘One day, a woman might not be in a fit state to think of it. I lay awake half the night thinking about this.’
‘So did I,’ she muttered. ‘And I thought about you.’
‘Hell, Kit!’ He pressed his lips to her temples, her cheeks, her mouth, then pulled back a tiny bit. ‘You shouldn’t have.’
‘How could I help it?’
‘I’m going to suggest we put a silent alarm on the door to the fire stairs—one that lights up at the nurses’ station and perhaps in Security as well. With the new obstetric theatre at the end of the corridor, we’re getting patients and visitors aware of that fire door when they didn’t used to be, because they never went that far along. It’s an emergency exit and it should be marked that way. We can’t have it used for everyday comings and goings. We’re asking for trouble.’
‘That’s all very well, Gian. I mean, it’s good. It seems like a solution. But why were you so angry last night? I—I couldn’t understand it. And it hurt.’
‘Because I need you in my life.’ He held her once more, raked his fingers through her hair and along her jaw. ‘That doesn’t make sense, I guess. Not logical at all, and not particularly admirable, but it’s the reason.’
The ball of his thumb brushed her lips, and his eyes were like black pools.
‘This isn’t going to go away until we do something about it,’ he went on softly, and she couldn’t take her eyes from his face. ‘We’ve tried to pull back and it hasn’t worked, hasn’t changed how we feel.’
‘No…’
‘I want us to be lovers. I don’t want to decide now what might eventually break us apart. A hundred other issues could end up doing that, without us ever getting to whether we can have a baby together or not. I want to take a risk, Kit. I want us to have something now.’
‘Me, too,’ she whispered. ‘You’re right. It’s too hard to keep saying no to this.’
The last three words were lost against his mouth, and he kissed her until she was dizzy and heavy and melting and weak. She had to hold onto him for support, and to orient herself in space, and for the moment, nothing else existed but this.
‘When is Bonnie coming?’ she managed at last.
‘About now, probably.’ His eyes swam with dark, liquid heat. ‘Have to say, at the moment I wish she wasn’t. I can think of other ways I’d rather spend the day, involving just the two of us. Are you working tonight?’
‘No, not until Monday.’
‘I’m on call from six for run-of-the-mill emergencies, and any time for extra serious ones. Hopefully there won’t be any of those.’
‘There aren’t any very often, are there?’
‘Not often, especially since Pete Croft came back from Sydney, with his obstetric and neonatal care qualifications upgraded. Mum always knows there’s a chance she might have to collect Bonnie again in a hurry. I’m not sure that wanting to spend the day in bed with you is an excuse I want to use for reneging on the arrangement, though. She already drops your name into the conversation far too often. Oh, damn, here she is.’
They both heard the car pull up just outside, and the sound of Bonnie’s voice in mid-chatter as soon as the car door opened.
‘Here’s a kiss you owe me for later, with interest,’ Gian said softly, and the touch of his mouth had come and gone before Kit had even tasted it. She was left with closed eyes, a trembling mouth and a deep hunger inside her which she knew he shared.
If Federica wondered why Kit was here, she was tactful enough not let it show. She had a stream of instructions and suggestions for Gian, and he listened to all of them patiently.
‘OK, now it’s my turn,’ he said when she’d finished. ‘Go to a matinée movie. I’ve looked in the paper, and there are two things showing that you should like. Have lunch in town, buy yourself some new clothes, go home and take a nap, and I’ll deliver Bonnie back for dinner.’
‘Will you stay for dinner, Kit?’ Freddie asked.
‘I didn’t say that I’d stay for dinner, Mum,’ Gian pointed out.
She tilted her chin up, and gave him a wicked, sideways look. ‘Maybe I’m just inviting Kit.’
He laughed. ‘Don’t cook. We’ll get Chinese or something, and leave ourselves flexible.’
When Freddie had gone and Bonnie was busy unpacking the entire contents of the bag of child equipment her grandmother had brought, Kit said, ‘Your mother’s definitely going to get ideas.’
‘Oh, to hell with it, she can have them!’ he answered, and the look he gave her stole the breath from her lungs. ‘As many ideas as she wants.’
She couldn’t argue, even though she felt that she probably should.
They had a wonderful day, and Kit hoped that Freddie was having one, too. She had looked wrung out, and Gian was right to bully her a little, if it meant she would take the breaks she needed.
They took Bonnie to the local playground, where she was happy for Gian and Kit to take turns pushing her in the rubber-seated swing until they’d both had a thorough upper body workout. She loved the slide, too, which seemed extra slippery today with the sun dazzling on its metal surface. They ate muesli bars and drank juice in boxes for a morning snack, and Bonnie pushed the umbrella stroller she was supposed to be sitting in all the way back home.
‘Is Marco not interested, Gian?’ Kit asked as they walked behind the little girl, in no particular hurry.
She couldn’t imagine consigning her own child permanently to someone else’s care, even if it was a doting Italian grandmother. But, then, a child of her own would come as such a precious and yearned-for gift to her, while Marco hadn’t planned on becoming a father.
‘I’m not sure,’ Gian answered. ‘And I don’t
think he is either. He’s barely seen her. A couple of days when she first came into his life and he was still completely overwhelmed, and one visit since. It all happened very fast, and we did the expedient thing.’
‘Yes, that’s the impression I got from Aunt Helen.’
‘Mum stepped in as soon as she found out. Marco’s not uncaring, and he’s not a bad person. But he is ambitious.
We’ve only now stopped to catch our breath, I think, and have realised that a more permanent decision has to be made. He could get sent to Europe or America in the next couple of years. If he’s going to have Bonnie with him, he has to do it soon.’
‘If he doesn’t ever have her…Your mother will be nearly eighty by the time Bonnie is grown up.’
‘I know. I’m very aware of the fact. I’m not sure that Marco is. He has no idea just how exhausting caring for a toddler can be. When he talks about taking her…’ Gian stopped and shook his head, and Kit felt a pang inside her.
‘Would he really do that?’ Somehow, as soon as she really thought about it, she hated the idea. ‘It would break your mother’s heart!’
‘I know, but I can’t let her kill herself. She had a checkup last week.’
‘Your idea?’
‘You could say that,’ he drawled. ‘I had to drive her to the doctor!’
‘But she’s all right?’
‘Her blood pressure’s high. Her bone density isn’t as good as I’d like, and I’m concerned about osteoporosis.’
‘You don’t want Bonnie to go to Marco, do you?’
‘No,’ he answered heavily. ‘I don’t. But the decision isn’t up to me.’
‘It’s up to Marco, and your mother.’ Kit understood. ‘She’s terrific, Gian. She’ll handle it.’ She’d dropped any pretence of objectivity now. She couldn’t imagine how Freddie would let Bonnie go. ‘Different from my parents. I admire her so much. Mum and Dad are great. Happy together, totally supportive of me and my choices. But they work hard in their business—they have a news agency on the Gold Coast, I can’t remember if I’ve told you that—and I think they’d throw up their hands in horror if they were left to raise another child at their age.’
Mention of her parents deflected Gian’s attention. ‘What do they know about you and James?’ he asked.
‘Just that we split up and I was unhappy for a while. I didn’t tell them very much. I didn’t particularly want my father up on a murder charge!’ Gian laughed at this, and Kit spread her hands. ‘What can I say? I’m an only daughter.’
He put his arm around her. ‘You’re great.’
She leaned her head on his shoulder, utterly happy for the moment yet knowing in the back of her mind that this was a stolen pleasure she’d pay for in the future with her heart’s blood.
They had sandwiches for lunch, and then Bonnie fell asleep in front of a ‘Wiggles’ video. Kit sat beside her while Gian put away the lunch things. One minute she was thinking, Yes, ‘Rock-a-bye Your Bear’ is a sleepy sort of song, and the next, she’d drifted off herself. She’d slept so badly last night, thinking about Belinda and Travis Carter, their new baby boy and Gian.
She awoke half an hour later to find him standing there, eyeing her with a quizzical expression.
‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ he said. ‘I’d decided not to, but then I was afraid that Bonnie might roll over and slip off the couch. I was trying to work out whether I could wedge her in place with cushions, without disturbing you.’
Bonnie was sprawled on her back, with her head in Kit’s lap. ‘I won’t let her fall,’ she said.
‘You can’t stay there until she wakes up.’
‘I can.’ She grinned up at him. ‘It’s nice.’
Too nice, in some ways. A sleeping child was so innocent and trusting and precious. She could hear Bonnie’s steady breathing and feel the rhythmic movement of her little torso each time her lungs filled. Her black lashes were as long as Gian’s, and her mouth was sweet and full.
Kit didn’t quite succeed in enjoying this just for the brief interlude that it was. The sweet warmth she felt contained also, inevitably, a thread of loss. Her own, and a concern for Freddie’s potential heartache that she had no right to feel.
When Bonnie woke again, she wanted to draw, then she wanted an afternoon snack, then she wanted to read stories, then she wanted to run around and around the couch and jump up and down on Gian’s bed.
‘This place is too poky, Gian,’ Kit said, only half joking, even though it had good-sized and well-lit rooms, and a private, paved courtyard with a gas barbecue in it and a border of easy-care shrubs. ‘You need a farm!’
They ordered Chinese food to go from a restaurant just around the corner, then they packed up Bonnie’s things and delivered her and the Chinese food out to Freddie on the farm at six-thirty. Gian was brief and to the point in his mother’s kitchen as he unpacked the hot containers.
‘Bonnie likes fried rice. You like honey prawns, Mum, and you both like spring rolls. Kit and I are eating the rest of the dishes back at my place.’
‘You’re desperate to get out of here. Has Bonnie been that exhausting?’
‘No, she’s been lovely, but now we have other things to do.’ His firm tone did not invite further questions, and if Freddie would have liked to ask a few, once again she didn’t let it show.
Back in town, they ate Szechuan beef and Singapore noodles and hot chilli chicken at the little table in Gian’s kitchen, washed down by Glen Aran white wine. ‘Scrummy,’ Gian said.
They hadn’t touched for hours. Not since this morning. It was as if they’d been afraid to, daunted by the prospect of having to keep what they felt in check until Bonnie had gone.
Even now that they were alone, there was an odd reluctance. They hardly talked as they ate, but Gian stretched across the table and took Kit’s hand, caressing it with slow, seductive intent. He lifted it to his lips, kissed her knuckles and her fingertips and her palm. She couldn’t even look at him at first, couldn’t finish her meal, although her plate was still half-filled.
Finally, she managed to lift her eyes to his face, a little frightened about how much she must be showing of what she felt.
‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said.
It took them quite a while to get that far. He pulled her to her feet, bending to kiss her as soon as she was within reach. The tastes of spice and wine were still on his lips, but they soon disappeared to leave only the taste of him. His warmth rose around Kit like a cloud, and she let herself sway almost weightlessly in his strong arms.
They both recognised the importance of taking this slowly, and of leaving no room for memories of anyone else. This was them. This was now. And it was important.
Gian couldn’t dismiss the past straight away. He discovered in himself a need to cradle Kit’s heart and her soul as well as her body. He knew he must do nothing to hurt her tonight, at the risk of fatally damaging the fragile connection.
Funny, he’d felt that way about Ciara for years—hyper-concerned not to hurt her. He’d been aware, always, of the six-year gap in their ages, and of the fact that she’d been still a teenager when they’d first met. As a male relative, albeit a very distant one, a second cousin, he’d felt the weight of responsibility. He’d acted on a presumption of innocence in Ciara which had turned out to be quite wrong.
This time, more mature himself, he knew he wasn’t misreading the nature of the woman in his arms tonight. Innocence wasn’t the word. Fragility certainly wasn’t. Their connection was fragile, yes, but Kit herself wasn’t. He didn’t know the right word for the state of her heart, but there was something.
‘Is this OK?’ he asked, when they reached his room and he began to pull her simple blue knit top over her head. ‘Tell me if it’s not all right. Stop me if—’
She laughed, and pressed her fingertips to his lips, tilted her head a little. ‘Hey,’ she said softly, ‘I’ve done this before, you know.’
‘Not with me,’ he growled back, anchoring his hands
on her hips. ‘Remember that, Kit.’ The distinction was crucial and, despite what she’d just said, they both knew it.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Not with you.’
It was different. It was so different, Gian found.
Kit had perfect skin, fine-pored and ivory-hued, with enough flesh beneath to make every inch of her feel soft and giving and wonderful. Her eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, but it was held inside her like the coals of a mature fire, quieter and stiller than leaping flames, but much, much hotter.
Every time he touched her, every place he touched her, he could feel the way sensation arrowed to her depths, and her hands on his body seemed to map every contour of his skin as if it was crucial for her to know him and commit him to memory.
When they were both naked, he felt his impatience building and his senses clamouring to complete their journey, but he guessed that she wasn’t ready, and made himself wait. A window of stillness opened around them. He felt her hands rest on his body, and she pulled back.
‘You should know,’ she began, and those familiar spots of pink were back on her cheeks, give-aways to the strength of her emotion, ‘when I found out that James was sleeping with Tammy, I had some tests. AIDS. Chlamydia.’
‘Hell, Kit! You had to deal with that, too?’
She shook her head. ‘I did it out of anger, not good sense. I don’t think, now, that Tammy had been sleeping around, but for a while, oh, I wanted to believe that she did.’ She gave a bitter laugh, then added, ‘At least it’s something I can offer to you now as security.’
‘I wouldn’t have asked for it,’ he told her. ‘But I’ll offer the same. You won’t pick up anything from this that you don’t want.’
What about pregnancy?
The issue opened in front of him like a black hole. Kit had her head pillowed in the curve of his neck. She was saying something. Apologising for having brought up the issue of disease, and her past. He kissed her apology away, but hardly heard it.
He’d spent years reading about the psychology of infertility, and knew that sex and pregnancy would be inextricably connected in Kit’s heart, twisted together yet pulling her apart. The desperate hope that had her thinking, month after month, ‘Maybe this time…’ It was such a hard habit to break.