She tiptoed across to look down at him and her heart squeezed painfully.
He was beautiful in a masculine, angular way. Lean cheeks, square jaw, a strong nose. Dark stubby lashes formed a thick fringe along his closed eyelids. His head had rolled slightly to one side, his mouth relaxed in sleep.
His mouth, so clever and versatile. Firm, commanding lips that demanded a response…soft, teasing lips that seduced a response.
She shivered, not from the cold this time. It was so tempting to bend down, press her mouth to his, taste the tenor of his kisses tonight. He’d make love to her with a generous, tender expertise. The thought made her pulse race. Being with him was spectacular in a way she’d never experienced before.
She would always be glad to have been a part of his life—even for this short interlude. The knowledge that her time here was limited sat in her chest like an unpleasant weight. She pressed her hand to her sternum. Leaving him was going to be harder than she could have predicted. Somehow, over the last couple of weeks, she’d almost ended up living at Tom’s place. Perhaps they needed to ease back, see less of each other.
As though he’d read her troubled thoughts, his forehead pleated in a small frown. Perhaps a case at work was bothering him. He was the sort of man others depended on. Responsible, trustworthy. He expected people to bring their problems to him…welcomed it, even. With every last ounce of strength and intelligence, he did whatever he could to help.
He’d have been a good pioneer, resourceful, tough and brave. She smiled at the idea then bent to lift the book off his chest. A second later her wrist was caught by his fingers in a gentle but unbreakable grip.
Her heart leapt into her throat. She snapped her eyes up to meet heavy-lidded eyes so dark they were nearly black.
‘Caught you red-handed.’ His voice was a sexy, throaty rasp. He took his book from her hand and dropped it carelessly over the arm of the sofa on to the floor. One expert tug and he’d tumbled her into the narrow gap between his body and the cushioning. It was like lying next to a furnace. ‘Mmm, now I’m going to have to punish you.’
Still breathless and disorientated from her rapid change of position, she gasped, ‘Any excuse.’
‘Is that a complaint?’ His lips feathered across her temple.
‘Only that you’re talking too much,’ she said, pushing her turmoil further into the back of her mind. She was here now. With him. Winding her arms around his neck, she touched her fingers to his bare nape.
He reared back to grab her hands in his. ‘God, woman, your fingers are like blocks of ice.’
‘I know.’ The warmth of his palms began to seep into her fingers. ‘But you’re so lovely and warm. I want to snuggle up.’
His weight settled back on her. ‘Marry me and you get automatic snuggle rights.’
She froze, the thoughts she’d been having earlier crashing back with a vengeance. ‘Tom—’
‘All right, you drive a hard bargain.’ His mouth closed over hers as he tucked her hands under his jumper. ‘You can have snuggle rights anyway.’
All thought of protesting evaporated as his body heat, then his love-making transported her to a place without doubts, filled only with ecstasy.
But much later, in bed, when Tom enfolded her into his warmth, his body spooning against hers beneath the light quilt, her mind returned to her concerns.
‘Tom?’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ His voice rumbled, half-asleep.
‘You are happy with the way things are between us, aren’t you? You understand it’s temporary? I can’t stay in Dustin.’
‘Mmm.’ His hand slipped around her waist, fingers splaying for a moment across her stomach then relaxing as he said, ‘I understand what you told me.’
‘Okay.’ An odd ambivalence shook her. She should be glad…she was glad. At least it meant she didn’t have to worry about him being hurt…and if she was more involved than she’d anticipated, then that was her problem. Not his. She could let herself have this time to store up memories to sustain her when she moved on. ‘Okay. That’s good.’
Tom deepened his breathing, relaxed his body consciously. He blinked in the darkness, inhaling Kayla’s sweet fragrance. Feeling her body pressed along his, the backs of her thighs aligned with the tops of his, her spine against his stomach and chest. The warmth they created so much more than they’d make individually.
Together they were so much more than they were alone. Couldn’t Kayla see that?
He’d hoped time would convince her but tonight he’d rushed. His quip about marriage, the long-term plan, prematurely exposed. The comment had slipped from the deepest recesses of his relaxed mind straight onto his tongue.
Marriage. A wife, a partner to share his life with, to make a family with. Things he’d promised himself since he’d woken up in the hospital recovery suite after surgery for the gunshot wound. His need had been a slow burn in the last two years…these last few weeks with Kayla had turned it into a raging inferno.
Had he blown his chance with the unguarded words?
She was such a valiant, determined spirit. Driven to prove herself against some standard he couldn’t comprehend, she was unnecessarily hard on herself. He was in awe of her already. She had nothing to prove to him. But that was the problem. She had everything to prove to herself. It remained to be seen whether that would mean sacrificing what they had.
He wouldn’t let her go easily, be a gentleman about it. He was prepared to bare himself, to let her see his heart and soul.
He’d do whatever it took because he was playing for keeps.
Look out, Kayla, he thought as he tumbled into sleep.
Moments before the alarm went off, Tom felt Kayla slip out of his arms. Still half-asleep, he wondered why she hadn’t turned and wrapped her arms around him as she’d got into the habit of doing in the mornings. A heartbeat later, he remembered last night.
Through narrowed eyelids, he watched her leave the room. The shower came on and a short time later he heard her pad down to the kitchen. Stifling a sigh, he rolled over and pushed back the covers.
He had a bad feeling about this morning.
Clean clothes in hand, he headed for the bathroom. The steamy room smelled of her. A combination of soap, shampoo, moisturiser and Kayla. One more part of her presence he’d become used to around the place.
By the time he got to the living area, Kayla was standing in front of the wood heater, a mug in one hand.
‘Good morning,’ he said, stopping in front of her. He wrapped his fingers around hers and lifted the mug to his lips to take a mouthful of her coffee. ‘Mmm, that’s good. I love it that you take your coffee the right way.’
Her eyes flickered over his bare torso, a quick flare of interest in the pewter. ‘I’ve got yours ready, I just need to pour it.’
‘Thanks.’ He grinned and released her.
Kneeling at the hearth, he opened the damper before releasing the catch on the door so he could stoke the fire. A spark landed on his forearm and he brushed it away casually before it could burn.
‘You’re asking for trouble with all that bare skin,’ Kayla said from just behind him.
‘I’m trying to impress you with how tough I am.’ He stood and took the drink she offered. ‘I thought it would improve my chances of getting you back to the bedroom.’
The smile she gave him was tentative, her eyes tinged with sadness to his hypersensitive mind. ‘You have a one-track mind.’
‘Pretty much.’
Her knuckles gleamed as her fingers tightened around her mug. ‘Tom, we need to talk.’
‘Uh-oh. The four words a man doesn’t want to hear from the woman in his life,’ he said, trying to lighten the moment, but she just watched him sombrely. He stroked a finger down her cheek. ‘Hon, we’ve only just got up. What can be so serious at this hour?’
‘We are.’ Her mouth turned down in a grimace. ‘We’re serious, Tom. And we said we wouldn’t be.’
The temptation to contradict
her was strong but it wouldn’t be honest so he shrugged. ‘So we broke the rules.’
‘But it means that I’m not being fair.’ She perched on the edge of one of the armchairs. ‘What you said last night made me wonder… You think this is going somewhere, don’t you?’
Hell, yes. He settled for a noncommittal ‘Well, it might.’
She shook her head. ‘It won’t, Tom. I’m sorry but it can’t. I told you I have plans. I need to see them through. They’re important, worthwhile and I need to prove I can do this.’
He crossed to the sofa they’d made love on last night and sat near her, his knees nearly touching hers. ‘Who do you need to prove it to, Kayla? Your father? Your ex-fiancé?’ He watched tell-tale emotions flicker through her expressive silver eyes. ‘You don’t have to prove a damned thing to anyone.’
‘I have to prove it to me.’ Her mouth trembled but her voice was firm.
‘Okay.’ He dragged a hand down his face, thinking hard, trying to decide a different tack. ‘Then what’s wrong with plans that allow for some flexibility? Changing a plan isn’t a hanging offence. We’re good together. Admit it.’
‘Tom—’
‘We’re better than good, we’re great.’ He clenched his fingers into fists to keep himself from reaching for her.
‘Because it’s still new, Tom. We’re in the honeymoon phase. We’re both putting our best foot forward. I’m not staying for the next phase.’
‘No pipe and slippers. Message understood.’ Blood pounded at his temples.
‘You said that before.’ She stared into her coffee, tension obvious from the set line of her shoulders. ‘But now we’re getting in too deep and we have to stop.’
‘So we’ll stop. We won’t get in too deep.’
Her haunted grey eyes came back to his. ‘No, I mean we need to stop seeing each other now, before we get hurt.’
He rubbed his chest, feeling the pain. She was dumping him. The go-slow plan was out the window…he might as well let her see just how bad he was in.
‘You think it’s that easy. You’ve put your cards on the table. Now it’s my turn.’ He pulled in a deep breath and looked her full in the eye. ‘I love you, Kayla Morgan. I would die for you before I would hurt you.’
She looked stricken. Not the look he wanted to see on the face of the woman he’d just bared his soul to. His heart kept beating despite the desperate chill that invaded his chest.
He clenched his jaw, wondering if he had the courage to tell her the rest. But he’d come this far… ‘I’ve let you call the shots in our relationship when all I wanted to do was march you down to the church and tie you up with rings and signatures and legalities.’ His throat felt raw. ‘This is the lifetime deal for me.’
Begging words paraded through his brain, desperate deals to keep things going. He shut his mouth to stop them from escaping and making him more woeful than he had to be.
‘Oh, Tom. I’m so sorry.’ She reached out to touch him, her fingers not quite steady.
He twisted away from her. ‘That’s not a good idea right now, Kayla,’ he said. Pity. He couldn’t bear it. ‘Unless you’re going to give me something more than sympathy.’
‘I—I…’ She stopped, unable to say the words he so badly wanted her to say. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t be what you want.’
‘You are what I want.’ He stood, took several jerky paces away. His frustration at not being able to reach her was like a tightly wound spring needing release. ‘Just you being yourself. Nothing more. I’d give anything, do anything, if I could help you to believe that.’
‘You make it sound like I need rescuing but I don’t, Tom. I know what I have to do.’ Kayla looked at Tom’s rigid back. Although he hadn’t raised his voice, she could hear the tension, the pain, he held in check.
She’d hurt him. The last thing she’d wanted to do. She’d hoped that by being honest with him from the beginning they’d be able to stay heart-whole.
Now she could see how she’d deluded herself. Tom loved her and he’d shown her in so many ways. Because it had suited her, she’d ignored the warning signs. In him. In herself.
They were never supposed to get this serious. How had she let it happen?
She looked at him, at the pain she’d caused, and it was nearly enough to make her buckle. She felt like her heart had been cut out. How she ached to go to him, to offer him whatever it took to make take his pain away.
But she was confused and to weaken would mean hurting him even more.
She was right to end it now. She couldn’t steal any more moments from him. He deserved better. He deserved the things he wanted.
Her hand shook as she put aside her half-finished coffee. ‘I’ll go and get my gear.’
Hardly aware of what she was doing, she went to the bedroom and gathered all her belongings. Tears blinded her as she struggled with the zipper of her carry-all. She stopped, pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and counted. Control. She had to get herself under control so she could face Tom before going.
She went back to the lounge. He was still standing where she’d left him. He’d looked so shattered. More than anything, she wanted to put her arms around him. But after what she’d done, she had no right to comfort him. And that would only make it worse.
‘I’m sorry, Tom. I’ve made a hash of this. I didn’t mean to.’
‘I know.’ He looked at her, his heart, unashamedly, in his eyes.
She swallowed hard. ‘I hope you find what you need.’
‘I have.’ The small crooked smile he managed tore at her. ‘But she doesn’t need me.’
‘Tom, please…’ Her throat threatened to close over.
‘What did you expect, Kayla? That I’d make it easy for you?’ He shook his head slightly. ‘I’m sorry, honey. I’d do a lot of things for you but that’s beyond me.’
‘Goodbye, Tom.’ She turned away quickly, blinking hard as she made her way to the door. Down the steps to her car. Her hands shook so much she had trouble getting the key into the ignition.
She drove carefully, glad of the numbness that allowed her to concentrate on the road. But as soon as she pulled up at her flat, sensation returned with a vengeance. Her heart felt raw, flayed. Her hands clenched on the steering-wheel as sobs erupted from deep within her, racking her until she was exhausted.
Moving like an old, old woman, she collected her bag and let herself into the flat.
She’d made such a mess of things, hurt Tom cruelly when all he’d done had been to treat her well.
He loved her.
She sagged against the door and slid down until she sat on the floor. Fresh tears scalded her eyes.
How could she bear knowing she’d caused him such pain?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TOM juggled his handhold on the heavy wardrobe and craned his head around the end of the unit. ‘I thought this was supposed to be empty.’
‘It is. It’s solid cedar,’ Liz said.
‘I’m starting to think it’d make damned good kindling.’ Jack grunted as they manoeuvred the awkward bulk.
‘You’re nearly there,’ Liz said. ‘Just a bit further. That’s it. Oh, perfect, thank you.’ She stood back and beamed, her hands folded over her bulging stomach. Tom looked at her gingerly, wondering exactly when the baby was due.
‘Now, will you have a rest, please?’ Jack said, sounding close to the end of his tether.
‘Okay. As soon as I’ve made you two a cup of coffee.’
‘No. Now. Tom and I will make the coffee. Put your feet up. That’s an order.’
‘All right, boss.’ She and Jack grinned at each other, their faces softening with such overwhelming love that Tom felt like an intruder in the moment. His heart squeezed painfully. This was what he’d wanted with Kayla, what he’d been so sure would be in their future. He’d been wrong.
‘Scoot.’
‘I’m gone.’ She grinned.
Jack frowned at the empty doorway after Liz had left the room. ‘No
t planning to take Kayla far afield tonight, are you, mate?’
‘Not tonight,’ Tom said. Not any night for the foreseeable future. The agony of it battered him. He clamped his jaw. ‘Why?’
His friend rolled his shoulders as though to release the tension there. ‘Liz is in the first stages of labour.’
‘What? Now?’ Aghast, Tom stared at his friend. ‘Shouldn’t you do something? Boil water? Go to the hospital?’
‘If I had my way, she’d be chained to a hospital bed right now,’ Jack muttered, then shrugged. ‘She says it’s too early. Come on, let’s make that coffee.’
Tom followed him into the kitchen.
A split second later, Liz appeared, an odd look on her face and her hands clutching her stomach. ‘Change of plans, darling.’
Jack was beside her in a flash. ‘Now? Is it now?’
‘Yes. Time to go to the hospital.’
‘I’ll drive. We’ll take my car,’ Tom said, digging his keys out of his pocket as Jack scooped Liz into his arms. ‘It’s in the driveway ready to go.’
‘Wait,’ she said, as Jack strode towards the door. ‘I need to ring Kayla and I want my bag.’
‘We can ring on the way,’ Jack said. ‘I’ll come back for your bag later.’
‘No. I want it now. There’s no need to panic. I’m not going to drop your son on the front veranda,’ Liz said. ‘Please, darling.’
‘I’ll ring Kayla while you get the bag, Jack,’ Tom said, picking up the handset on the bench and punching in Kayla’s number.
‘Hell. All right.’ Jack lowered Liz gently onto a chair. ‘Stay,’ he said, then stalked out of the room.
‘Hey, Liz, sweetie.’ Kayla’s husky voice, warm, loving and calm, flowed down the phone line like honey and Tom’s pulse leapt painfully. ‘I’ve been expecting your call. Are you ready to come in?’
His unruly heart clamoured regardless of the fact that all her sweet reassurance wasn’t meant for him.
‘Kayla, it’s Tom,’ he rasped.
‘Tom?’ There was a fraction of a second of stark silence on the other end of the line. He could almost feel her shock, hear her thoughts spinning, but before he could reassure her, she said, ‘Is Liz all right?’
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