Exposed

by JC Harroway

  ‘So, to kick off this graduation ceremony, can I ask the Ruby Challenge graduates to join us in the next room for official photographs,’ said Steve.

  The crowd began to part, releasing the fourteen graduates who stepped forward to gather to the right of Steve.

  ‘Following the photos, lunch will be served in the Everest Room. Friends, families, please feel free to make your way there. We will join you shortly.’

  As the room cleared, Eden and her fellow graduates were ushered to the adjoining room. She didn’t once look at Dan. He followed the group, his feet as heavy as his heart and his face grim.

  * * *

  Seeing him was way harder than she’d thought. She’d known he would be here, of course. Prepared herself for the slam of recognition she’d experienced when she’d walked into the room surrounded by her loved ones, and her eyes zeroed in on his tall frame like a heat-seeking missile. She hadn’t been prepared enough.

  Even now, two hours later, the bone-deep discomfort trilled through her, as if every nerve, every muscle yearned to go to him, to sprint across the scant metres separating them and … what? Collapse into his arms? Take him hostage until he loved her back the way she wanted to be loved?

  But he didn’t.

  He’d helped her, and she owed him so much. He’d shown her that her scars didn’t matter. They didn’t define her, and anyone who had a problem with them was not someone she wanted in her life. But that wasn’t enough. Not anymore. She deserved more.

  A week had passed since the BBQ and he hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t turned up on her doorstep dragging her into his arms while words of love spilled form his mouth.

  She’d thought she hadn’t wanted any of those things. When she pushed him away for the final time, she’d convinced herself that she’d be okay, that in time, she’d get over Dan. But six sleepless nights later, the pain, the wanting, the missing him grew more acute, as if the misery not only multiplied but grew more potent with every passing hour.

  But she’d be strong. She was strong. She’d survived worse, hadn’t she?

  Eden placed her empty glass on a nearby table, her eyes protesting. Don’t look at him. Dan, appealing enough in his own right, looked so perfect in his three-piece suit, chatting to her handsome, uniformed brother across the room, she itched to either stride across and kiss him, or fling herself from the balcony to land in a mess on The Mall.

  Mirror-black shoes filled her vision and she snapped her gaze up to find her commanding officer stood before her.

  ‘Captain Archer.’ Major Belmont acknowledged her salute, before reaching out a firm hand for a shake. ‘Congratulations on completing your challenge, Archer.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it today. Was going to call you in for a meeting next week, but … Well, I made it.’ He tugged the hem of his dress jacket. Straightening an imaginary wrinkle?

  Foreboding tingled through her. She forced her body to remain still, fighting the urge to squirm.

  ‘You received my email?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Thank you. My GP has referred me for the recommended counselling.’

  A curt nod of acknowledgment. ‘Well done, Captain. You’ve been through a lot. It’s very brave to admit you need a little help.’

  She nodded, her heart too heavy to feel much in the praise from her CO, a man she respected almost as much as the colonel.

  ‘And it seems your bravery was an inspiration to others.’

  What?

  ‘The challenge doctor, Dr Chalmers, commented on your overall fitness and attitude.’ Her CO had the grace to look a little shame-faced. ‘But it was the letter accompanying your medical report from Scale. That moved me the most. You’re going to be just fine, Captain. I see no reason you shouldn’t return to work, light duties, for now.’

  Letter?

  Her bewilderment must have been clearly plastered over her face because he added, ‘I sent you the letter. From a Dr Barbour. Attached to the email.’

  She’d been so upset that day, and over the subsequent days, she couldn’t face rereading that email, gleaning all she’d needed to know from the first read-through. Or perhaps not.

  ‘You didn’t see the attachment?’ A censorious curl of his bushy eyebrow.

  Struck dumb, she shook her head, her eyes scanning the room for Dan. Dan had written to her CO? Before she’d accused him. Before she’d kicked him out.

  The air left Eden’s lungs in a rush, her automatic words filling the silence her otherwise fraught mind would have offered. ‘No, sir.’

  The space in her chest recently vacated by air, filled with a surge of regret. Still hollow, she floundered, flailing for an anchor to cling to. Major Belmont continued, unaware of the tumult twisting her into knots.

  ‘It seems this Dr Barbour, although not himself a Ruby participant, credits you with helping him through his own personal difficulties. He spoke very highly of you, your bravery, your tenacity and your willingness to confront your own wounds and make positive changes towards your own healing. Well done, Captain. You’re an inspiration to us all, not just Dr Barbour.’

  Eden barely noticed him leave, her head spinning with such momentum she reached out a steadying hand to the nearby table.

  Dan.

  She’d helped him?

  All she’d done, from the moment she’d met him, was push him away. She’d lashed out, said hateful things, accused him, denied his caring, when he’d done little more than excel at his career, offering her comfort and support despite her self-loathing.

  Her head snapped up, her gaze frantically searching the room for him. How could she have been so vile, so hurtful? So he loved his wife? Would she love him as much as she did if he felt differently? That’s who Dan was. A man full of compassion and strength. A man who healed, who fixed, who consoled. How many thousands of patients over the years had he helped? How many, whether they realised it or not, were alive, or healthier or more complete because of him and his humanity and integrity. Heroes came in many guises, and didn’t always wear medals or a uniform.

  Eden spotted Tom, reaching his side in two or three hurried strides. Her gaze flicked around the room. Desperate. An icy fist settled in her stomach. She needed to thank Dan. To apologise. Even if it made little difference, he should know—she’d thought she only wanted a piece of him. Could settle. But he’d helped her to see that she deserved all of his heart. Even if it was something he could never give. At least, because of him, she now understood her own worth. Pain seared her. The pain born of sadness. The worst kind. Hotter than the physical agony of her worst memories.

  Her self-esteem had been so long trapped inside her damaged body, she’d folded in on herself like an insect crushed inside a cocoon. But even weighed down by the sadness of losing Dan, her true self unfurled, blood pumping through her as the miracle of metamorphosis occurred. And she would eventually be better. Whole. A complete version of herself. No longer willing to accept anything less than what she deserved. Thanks to Dan. Because of Dan. He’d taught her to love—starting with herself.

  ‘Tom, where’s Dan?’

  Tom adjusted his number one dress hat under his arm. ‘Nice guy. Can’t sing your praises loudly enough, Kid.’

  Warmth spread through her, combating the tingles in her fingertips.

  Jane appeared, accepting a kiss from Tom. ‘Who?’ Her eyes gleamed with interest.

  ‘Volunteer doctor from the challenge.’ Tom’s eyes found Eden’s again, honed with that scary pinpoint accuracy he possessed. A human lie detector.

  ‘He’s in love with Eden,’ Sam chipped in, and Jane’s eyes rounded.

  Eden flushed, but it wasn’t enough to melt the icy fingers gripping her heart.

  ‘But she’s still too scared to go after him,’ said Sam, her shrewd eyes watchful, searing Eden with their challenge. Too late, Sam.

  ‘I’m not. Where did he go?’ Her head swivelled from her sternly smug brother and smugger
friend, scanning the room.

  ‘Not sure, why?’ Tom stare followed hers, detouring around the depressingly-devoid-of-Dan room.

  She turned on them. ‘I messed up, okay. I need to find him?’ She reached for Sam’s arm, conveying her panic through the frantic clench of her fingers. ‘Please help me?’ Her imploring gaze swivelled between her family, begging.

  Sam’s hand covered hers and Tom reached for the other. ‘Well done, Kid. I’ve waited my whole life for you to ask.’ He led the three women from the room in search of Dan.

  Ten minutes later, sick to her stomach and unable to witness their carefully pitiless glances, Eden accepted the truth.

  Dan had left.

  Chapter 16

  Eden shivered, although he comfortable room was warm enough. She wore a fluffy white gown over her nude, barely there thong. But the shivers had nothing to do with her body temperature, which ran from hot to freezing and back again every few seconds. She glanced at the door—did she have time to rush to the bathroom and vomit?

  ‘Stop freaking out.’ Sam handed her a bottle of water, twisting the cap off so Eden could take a hesitant sip. She didn’t trust her stomach and didn’t want to smudge the tiny smear of nude lip-gloss on her lips. Not after Sam had spent a painstaking thirty minutes making up her pale face to appear as if she wore no make-up at all. She’d have preferred to actually wear no make-up, but Sam insisted the minimal amount she’d applied was crucial to prevent the lighting reflecting off her skin. And, no doubt, to conceal her deathly pallor.

  Eden needed all the help she could get. As it was, a fine film of perspiration threatened to undo all Sam’s hard work. She sucked in long calming breaths. This idea was doomed. Every nerve ending in her body screamed at her to flee. Every instinct wailed the truth so loudly, a headache pounded at her temples. She should listen. Take her intact dignity and her hollow, empty heart and live a life devoid of love, a life devoid of Dan, instead filling her days with family and work and …

  Fuck that. She wasn’t a quitter. And if she went down in blaze of failure, so be it.

  And Dan deserved to know her feelings, even if he could never reciprocate them.

  Someone rapped on the door, the harsh sound reverberating around the small changing room where Eden and Sam had holed up for the past hour. They both jumped, a tiny whimper escaping Eden’s dry throat.

  ‘We’re ready for you,’ the anonymous voice called.

  Fresh panic seized Eden, flooding her muscles with oxygen in preparation for her hasty departure. Sam’s small encouraging smile pulled her back from the edge. ‘You can do this.’ Sam loomed into focus, her face brightening. Confident.

  It was contagious. She could. She could do this. But what if … No—there was no room in her life for what ifs.

  She stood, her legs alarmingly wobbly, and followed Sam from the room. She barely recognised the Scale employee who’d knocked on the door, her small twitch of a smile all she could muster for the man, who led them along deserted, draughty corridors. He was all brisk efficiency, but rather than settle Eden’s nerves, it flamed the roaring fire inside her.

  ‘So to remind you, it’s a closed set. Just you and the photographer. You’re the last, so as soon as you’re done, you’re free to leave. Scale will email you a release form and proofs of the photos for your approval.’ He paused at yet another doorway, his clipboard clutched to his chest and a bright smile in place. ‘Don’t worry, he’s a really nice guy.’

  Eden nodded, her head light. ‘I know.’ Although nice didn’t cover it. Almost insulting. She could think of a hundred more appropriate adjectives. Her poor sidelined libido fluttered awake, turning trembles into flutters in her belly.

  ‘Your friend can stay with you, if you want.’ Clipboard glanced between Eden and Sam, who shook her head and gave Eden a final encouraging hug.

  ‘She doesn’t need me.’ She winked. ‘Doesn’t need anyone, right?’ This time, the phrase held no criticism, but affirmation of how far Eden had come. With Sam’s help.

  Clipboard ignored the secret smile passed between the friends and pushed open the door, ushering Eden inside the tiny studio.

  White. The floors, the ceiling and the walls. Everything was white. Had she actually passed out? As the door eased closed and the voices behind her faded, Eden shuffled her bare feet forward round the white partition that screened her from Dan.

  There he was.

  Dan, his back to her, stretched up to adjust a light mounted to a tripod, directing the beam to a single white stool, the only piece of furniture in the room. Her world sparked vibrantly alive, and a languid pool of unexpected calm settled deep inside.

  ‘I’ll be with you in a sec, I just want to get this right …’ He swivelled his head over his shoulder, his warm welcoming smile dying on his face as he saw her.

  She’d misjudged. Taken a punt and jumped the wrong way. The calm seeped away, replaced by a concrete block. Heavy and unforgiving, just like the weight behind Dan’s stare.

  Say something. Was she speaking to herself or to Dan? A futile exercise, because not only did she remain deafeningly silent, but so did he, his arms dropping to his sides and his jaw slack.

  Eden gripped the knotted belt of the robe at her waist, to remove it or to stay grounded she wasn’t sure. Her future hung in the balance of the next few seconds and she had no inclination for which way things might go. He hated her. And she couldn’t blame him. She’d spent a long time hating herself.

  Dan, as if waking from a trance, looked her up and down, a glimmer of understanding flashing across his face.

  Eden swallowed, her vocal cords waking. ‘I—’

  In two strides, he reached her, scooping his strong arms around her back and drawing her up until only the tips of her toes made contact with the floor. His mouth covered hers, preventing further explanation. Not that she had any to give, all the well-rehearsed things she’d planned to say to him evaporating from her mind at the first blissful touch of his warm, insistent lips on hers.

  She let go. Her mind closing to anything that wasn’t Dan, his unique scent, the solid bulk of his muscles under her roving hands or the sublime glide and thrust of his heady kisses. How had she convinced herself she could live without him? Although she knew her own strength better for meeting him, she wanted more than an existence. She wanted him. In her life, in whatever capacity he could offer.

  Tearing her mouth away from his kiss, she buried her face in the soft cotton of his T-shirt, loving the spring of his chest hair beneath the fabric in the dip between his well-defined pecs. The dip that seemed to be made for her—a perfect height and width for her forehead to rest.

  His hands cupped her cheeks, tipping back her head until his questioning stare bore into hers. ‘What are you doing here?’ The glittering pools of his eyes held her captive, trapping the words in her throat. Words she’d feared she would have no opportunity to speak. But the kisses he feathered over her face and the rhythmic sweeps of his thumbs across her cheeks and jaw gave her courage, as Dan, patient as ever, waited.

  ‘I love you. I wanted you to know.’ Eden’s hands left the comfort of his sculpted back, her fingers curling over his wrists to stay his hold on her face. ‘I though I could live without you, and I could. I just don’t want to.’ Seconds ticked by, each one stretched to hours. A lifetime.

  ‘Eden—’ Dan’s voice, thick with emotion chilled her. She didn’t want to hear it, the rejection she expected, the consolation she’d known he would offer. He’d let her down gently, with grace and humility. That was who he was.

  The words she’d held inside for so long blasted past her stiff lips. ‘I’m sorry for the hateful things I said. I don’t care that you’re still in love with Megan. I just want you to know that I love you. That I’ll take any part of you that you can give me. That I’ll support your project, pose for the calendar because it’s important to you.’

  The air in the room stilled as Eden’s heart thumped an erratic rhythm. Please don’t let i
t be too late?

  Dan’s fingers tugged her hair as he curled them, drawing her face closer for another kiss that was almost brutal in its ferocity. He growled, dragging his mouth away, his chest working as hard as hers and his gaze scalding.

  ‘You were right. Everything you said that day was true.’

  She winced, his words harder to hear than anything she’d imagined.

  ‘I do love Megan. Part of me always will. But she’s gone.’ His brows dipped low over his eyes a pained frown furrowing the skin as his eyes danced over her features, one by one. ‘I’m in love with you. And I want all of you, too. Even the bits you don’t like.’

  His words echoed what she’d said to him the day of Amelia’s BBQ. Eden’s legs faltered. But for Dan’s continued grip on her face, she’d have collapsed to the floor. She stood on tiptoes, her face tilted back to meet him halfway as he lowered his head until their mouths collided.

  Steel arms banded around her waist and she levered her hands on his shoulders until she’d climbed him, her legs clinging to his waist as he held her so close she struggled to catch a breath.

  There was no furniture in the room, the floor hard, unforgiving floorboards. Not that she’d have minded. She’d tolerate any level of discomfort for Dan. But he pressed her to the wall instead, taking his time to reacquaint them with the divine pleasure their mouths created. Slow, lazy kisses. Torrid, duelling tongues. Reverent, playful nibbles.

  After what seemed like an age, they parted, their lips swollen and breathing ragged. Dan lowered her feet to the floor, his forehead dropping to rest against hers while they regained a modicum of composure.

  ‘So what about this photo then?’ Eden slipped her hands inside his T-shirt, unable to stop touching his smooth skin, even for a minute. Her lips nuzzled the softness of his neck, beneath the line of his beard.

  He smiled, a sexy tug of his mouth, his glazed eyes hooded. ‘No need.’ He tapped his temple with a forefinger. ‘I have thousands of photos of you in here.’ His hand came to rest over his heart. ‘And in here.’ His mouth, clearly fighting the same affliction that affected her, traced the angle of her jaw, the soft lips and scrape of facial hair providing a delicious contrast.