by Nina Croft
He climbed out, then leaned down toward her. “We’ll talk when I get back.”
She stared after him until his tall figure disappeared into the airport.
In the rear of the car, returning to the city, Bella tried to analyze their encounter.
It had actually gone exactly to plan.
So why didn’t she feel like celebrating instead of like a manipulative little bitch?
Her body still tingled from his touch, and she was damp and hot. She’d never expected to feel this way. Oh, she’d presumed he would be a competent lover; after all, he’d had mega-loads of practice. But this ability to make her lose herself in sensation was scary, and unanticipated, and she didn’t know how to deal with it.
And right now, she couldn’t shake the nagging sense of guilt, the uncomfortable sensation that she was way in the wrong.
They’d been friends, but on a superficial level, because she’d never tried to see the real Rafe beneath the glamour.
Now she saw him clearly. And the truth was, she liked him. Rafe wanted her. She could see that, but for whatever reasons, he’d decided he couldn’t have her. However, those reasons would have her best interests at heart, because Rafe was an honorable man. She could only presume he’d told her the truth—that he didn’t believe she was ready for a relationship with him. Or for a baby.
He was wrong about the baby. She deserved that baby, and she would be a good mother. The best. Her child would never want for love.
But maybe he was right about the relationship—Rafe had the potential to overwhelm her. How would she feel when they parted, as he’d warned her they inevitably would? The problem was, she didn’t see how spending more time with him would help. In fact, it was clouding the issue. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted him. Maybe it was because it was all so new. Until Rafe, she’d never even kissed a man other than Gary.
She groaned. It was official—she was a sex-crazed widow. But she wouldn’t try to seduce him again. It wasn’t fair. Instead, she would tell him how she felt. Maybe he’d give her a pity fuck and her hormones would settle down and she’d stop thinking about sex.
She buried her head in her hands.
She so wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.
Chapter Nine
Looking lean and handsome in his uniform, Colonel Sinclair was seated at the hotel bar when Bella entered. The last time she’d seen him had been at Gary’s funeral, though he’d written to her many times since. In the past, she’d never felt entirely comfortable with him. He’d been against their marriage, and she’d presumed he thought she wasn’t good enough for his son—her father was a lowly sergeant, while Gary was an officer’s kid.
She’d just finished her shift at her temp job showing foreign tourists around the sights of London. Her feet hurt, and she was desperate for a drink. Rafe had been gone four days, and she missed him. He’d finished in Hong Kong but had slotted in a trip to Singapore afterward. That’s where he was now, or at least where he’d been when he called last night.
He called her every evening. They kept the conversations light and impersonal. So far, they’d avoided mentioning the trip to the airport.
In the meantime, she had a long to-do list to keep her busy, and seeing Gary’s father was close to the top.
He was nursing a drink, his large hand clasped around the glass. When he saw her, a smile flashed across his face. He appeared genuinely pleased to see her. Her steps faltered. He had the same blond hair and gray eyes as his son, and a shaft of pain shot through her.
As she approached, he rose to his feet and held out his arms. She was surprised, but stepped forward and returned his hug.
After a moment, he drew away. “Can I get you something?”
“A glass of red wine, please.”
He ordered the drink and then turned back to study her. “You look more beautiful than ever. Gary was a lucky man.”
Again he surprised her, and she answered without thinking. “I believed you never thought I was good enough for him.”
He shook his head. “Honey, I knew you were too good for him. I loved Gary, but you were more woman than Gary could handle by the time you were fourteen.”
Bella sank onto the barstool beside him. This wasn’t how she remembered things. The bartender placed a glass of wine in front of her, and she sipped it to give herself time to think.
“I was a skinny tomboy. I was surrounded by men, and not one of them ever looked my way.”
He laughed. “Poor Sam.”
Sam was her father, Sergeant Samuel Deacon. “What do you mean?”
“Do you know what he threatened to do to any man who looked your way? What he threatened to do to every new guy on the base?” He chuckled. “I don’t think he slept a single night after you turned fourteen. You didn’t help. You were a wild child.”
“Not that wild,” she muttered.
“We used to laugh about it. Sam could control a whole barrack full of squaddies, but one little girl had him running in circles.”
Bella’s mind reeled.
“So yeah, I was a little concerned about you marrying Gary. I didn’t think it would last.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure he could make you happy.”
“He did.”
He patted her knee. “I know. And you made him happy. I spoke to him a few days before the accident. He was so proud about the baby. I just wish that baby had happened.”
She glanced away and bit her lip as tears stung her eyes. “So do I.”
“A piece of Gary. Still, it wasn’t to be.” He sat on the stool beside her and picked up his drink. He was giving her time to pull herself together, and she appreciated his concern. She hadn’t realized how much seeing him would hurt. Or maybe she had, and that’s why she’d avoided even thinking about him.
This man brought back the past so vividly, and remembering those times left her feeling lost and inadequate, and she hated that.
Her dad had been a member of the elite Special Air Services—her mother had said she left because she couldn’t live with the constant fear. But that wasn’t the case. Her mother had been so beautiful. She’d wanted parties and excitement, to be admired, none of which she’d gotten from Bella’s dad, who was posted overseas for long stretches of time. So she’d left, reluctantly taking Bella with her—a four-year-old wasn’t the sort of accessory her mother desired.
She’d died five years later, driving back from a party, three times over the legal alcohol limit. Bella’s dad had taken her after that, and from the start, she’d been a pain.
“So what are you doing in London?” Colonel Sinclair pulled her from her thoughts.
She bit her lip. “I’m with someone.”
“A man?”
She nodded.
“I’m glad,” he said. “I worried about you alone at the farm. It’s no place for a young woman.”
“I wasn’t ready to leave.”
“And are you now? You know, Gary wouldn’t have wanted you to live your life alone.”
Maybe her determination to stay on the farm had been some sort of penance. Perhaps she felt guilty that she hadn’t loved Gary more, or loved him better. Rafe had made her realize the one thing missing from her marriage—passion.
Being with Rafe had changed everything, including how she viewed her marriage. She hadn’t known she could feel desire like that. Rafe only needed to look her way to set the fires inside her alight.
For the first time, she wondered whether she’d have been content with Gary forever. She’d married him because he was the best person she’d ever met and they both wanted the same things from life. She’d known he’d never let her down, never leave her.
Except he had.
Maybe if they’d stayed on the farm, away from temptation, the feelings of restlessness, the idea that life was passing her by, would have faded to nothing once she’d had the baby and a real family around her.
She just didn’t know anymore. Didn’t know who she was.
“Not really. We’re more friends than anything else.” She shook her head. “Rafe doesn’t do serious.”
His eyes widened. “You’re with Rafael Sanchez?”
She nodded. “Are you shocked?”
“No, not shocked. Gary once said the only way you would ever leave him was if Rafe decided to have you. And he reckoned Rafe would never do that.”
Her mouth fell open. She placed her glass slowly on the bar. “Gary said that?”
“Hmm. After I’d told him you were too young, that you couldn’t know your own mind. He told me I was wrong. So, are you happy with Rafe?”
“Well, I’m not sad. That’s something. But it’s not like…that. Not yet, anyway.”
“You’re a sensible woman. You’ll sort it out. Now, how about we finish our drinks, then go get something to eat and you can talk to me about Gary.”
“I’d love that.”
…
Where the hell was she?
Rafe had called from the airport, but there was no answer from the hotel room, and her cell phone was obviously switched off. He’d even tried the damned PA, and the stupid woman hadn’t a clue where Bella was. What did he pay her for?
He needed a drink.
But when he entered the hotel bar, he saw her straightaway. She sat on one of the tall stools at the bar, her long jeans-clad legs crossed, a glass of red wine in her hand. Her hair was loose, a cascade of dark fire down her back, and his lips curved up in a smile as he stepped toward her.
His smile froze. He came to a halt just inside the door, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Bella placing her hand on another man’s arm. She turned so she sat in profile and smiled at him.
Rafe forced his gaze from Bella to the man at her side. He had his back to Rafe so he couldn’t see his face, but he was tall and wore some sort of army uniform. From the silver in his hair, he was also considerably older than Bella, but that didn’t seem to prevent her from pawing him. What was she doing picking up soldiers in bars?
She reached up and kissed the man on the cheek, and Rafe felt a growl building up inside him.
Mine.
He was about to storm up to the couple, punch the man, toss Bella over his shoulder, and carry her off, no doubt beating his chest in a Neanderthal-like manner, when the officer turned his head. Rafe recognized him immediately. Gary’s father. He stopped his forward momentum in midstride.
Rafe couldn’t believe the strength of his over-the-top reaction. He was in trouble, and it was time to put a stop to this. During his time away, he’d come to the conclusion that he needed to tell Bella the truth.
That he could never give her a baby.
He didn’t want to lie to her any longer. He fingered the box of condoms in his pocket. He’d fought a losing battle, and it was time to give in. He’d offer her a no-strings affair and see where they went.
Bella wanted him—maybe not as much as he wanted her, but she couldn’t fake her reaction to him.
So maybe it was time they gave in, had an affair, and got the inconvenient attraction out in the open and out of their systems.
His affairs never lasted. While not breeding contempt, familiarity tended to lead to disinterest. Part of him knew that would be for the best, and they could part amicably and Bella could move on. The rest of him hated the idea.
Of course, there was always the risk that once they’d made love, he’d never want to let her go. He’d worry about that when and if…
Breathing out, he relaxed his facial muscles, formed them into a smile, and stepped forward.
Bella must have sensed his approach and turned slightly, her eyes widening as he approached. “Rafe.” She sounded breathless. She removed her hand from the other man’s arm, slid off the stool, and came toward him. “I wasn’t—”
He leaned down and kissed her, cutting off the words. It was a kiss of pure possession. Mine. The word whispered through his mind as she melted against him, her fingers clenching his shirt, her mouth opening beneath his as their surroundings faded from his consciousness.
Someone coughed, and Rafe pulled away reluctantly. He looked past Bella, and his eyes caught the older man’s. A flicker of amusement flashed across the colonel’s face.
“Not serious, huh? Looks pretty serious to me,” he said to Bella, and then turned to Rafe. “Hello, Rafe.”
Rafe frowned at the “serious” comment. He raised one eyebrow at Bella, but she just shrugged. “Sir.” He held out his hand and the colonel shook it, his grip firm, his gaze searching Rafe’s face.
“It’s good to see you,” he said.
“You too, sir.”
“Now, I’m sort of standing in as Bella’s father, and I suppose I should be asking what your intentions are,” the colonel said, then he smiled. “But maybe I’ll wait until you’ve worked that out for yourselves. It’s time I left.” He turned to Bella and kissed her forehead. “I think maybe we’ll take a rain check on that meal.” He glanced at Rafe as he spoke, a challenge in his eyes.
Some small part of his brain urged him to tell Bella to go ahead with her plans and have a meal with her father-in-law. No doubt they had things to talk about. But he couldn’t get the words out. Instead he stood, silently willing the other man to leave.
A look of wry amusement entered the colonel’s eyes. “Don’t be a stranger,” he said to Bella.
“I won’t.”
“Good. I’ll see you again before you leave? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Of course.”
Why the hell couldn’t the man just go? Finally, he nodded at Rafe, and then strode out of the room.
Rafe watched until he disappeared before turning back to Bella.
She glared at him. “You weren’t very friendly.”
“I don’t feel friendly.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t?”
“No.”
“What do you feel?”
Rafe allowed some of his hunger to show as he studied her out of half-closed eyes. She shifted under his attention. Good. “Why don’t we go up to your room?” he asked. “And I’ll tell you. Maybe even show you.”
For a moment, she appeared to sway toward him, and then she frowned and stood up straighter. “Actually, I’m hungry. Could we stay down here and get some food?”
“We can order room service.” Lobster and champagne. He’d feed her. Afterward.
Her frown deepened. “I need to talk to you about something.”
Her words brought him out of his nice little fantasy. And reminded him. He also had things he needed to talk about. She looked serious, and panic flared inside him. Had she decided to leave?
Well, if that was the case, what he had to say would hardly persuade her to stay. “I have something to say as well.”
Five minutes later, they sat across from each other in the hotel restaurant. The waiter approached.
“Are you ready to order?” Rafe asked.
She shook her head. “Later. After we’ve talked.”
Rafe waved the man away, then called him back and ordered a scotch for himself and another red wine for Bella. He sat back in his seat, tried to relax, and waited for her to speak. She was nervous. Her eyes were darting around the restaurant, and she was drinking way too fast.
“Tell me,” he said when he could bear the suspense no longer.
She bit her lip. “I wanted to apologize.”
Relief filled him at her words. At least she hadn’t said she was leaving. Followed by confusion and a hint of panic. What did she need to apologize for? What the hell had she done? Had she found some other man to give her a baby? He took a sip of scotch and waited for her to continue. When she remained silent, he decided it was up to him. “What for?”
She chewed on her lower lip, positively gnawing on it. At another time, the sight might have distracted him, but right now he needed to hear what she had
to say. She took a deep breath and then spoke very quickly. “I set out to seduce you in the car that night.”
He blinked a couple of times while he processed that information. “You wanted to seduce me?” he asked slowly. That wasn’t so bad.
“It was premeditated—I asked Amy how to make you want me, because I believed now that you’d actually spent some time with me, you couldn’t face the idea of making love. But afterward I felt so bad and horrid. You’re doing what you think is right, making me take my time, and I’m trying to push you.”
“Let me get one thing straight. You tried to seduce me to get pregnant?”
She glanced away. Then back. Raised her glass to her lips, then realized it was empty and put it down. “Yes…no. God, this is so hard. I do want a baby, desperately, but I also want you. I hadn’t realized I would, but I can’t stop thinking about sex. With you. Is that normal?”
He shook his head, pressed his fingertips to his forehead. She wanted him. But she also still wanted the baby. The baby he could never give her.
“You can’t stop thinking about sex? With me?” He asked because he really needed her to say it again.
“Yes. But it was your fault. You kissed me.”
“All this because of one little kiss.”
For the first time, anger flashed in her eyes. “It wasn’t a little kiss. And before you kissed me, I’d never thought of you like that. It had never occurred to me that there could ever be anything between us. I—”
“Did you want something between us?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. Not then. But I wanted a baby, and then you kissed me, and I thought you wanted me, and I thought why not? And then in the hotel you kissed me again and touched me and ever since…” She scowled. “Well, since then, I think I’ve made my feelings embarrassingly plain on that subject.”
“In retrospect, the whole back-of-the-car thing was a little obvious, but I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. Not with my head, at least.”
“I noticed.” She fiddled with the stem of her wineglass, and then looked him directly in the face. “So anyway. I needed to say sorry. And I won’t try to seduce you again.”