‘I hurt you?’
‘I…’ Oh, hell. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. ‘They’ve become extra-sensitive.’
He held a vivid memory of suckling there, teasing the tender peaks with the edge of his teeth as he took her to the brink between pleasure and pain.
His husky curse was barely audible as he fastened his mouth on hers in a brief, hard kiss before continuing his ministrations.
‘Don’t.’ Tasha curled one hand into a fist and aimed it at his shoulder as he reached the juncture between her thighs.
He paused, then straightened and met her troubled gaze.
‘Last night…’ Dammit. ‘Just because we had sex, it doesn’t mean anything has been resolved.’
Jared stilled, and his expression became an enigmatic mask. ‘You call what we shared just…sex?’
It was more than that, much more. ‘I’d prefer not to discuss it.’
‘Avoiding the issue won’t make it go away,’ Jared warned, and her chin tilted as she held his gaze.
‘Any more than you’ll allow me to forget it.’
A muscle bunched at the edge of his jaw. ‘Take that as a given.’
Tasha turned away from him. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to shower alone.’
Hands curved over her shoulders and he brought her round to face him. ‘And if I do mind?’
Anger lent her eyes a fiery sparkle. ‘Tough.’
His mouth covered hers, hard and possessively demanding as he tore her initial resistance to shreds.
She balled one hand into a fist and took aim, uncaring where she connected, only to cry out as he took hold of her hand and clamped it behind her back, then brought the other to join it in a movement that succeeded in bringing her up against him.
He held her easily, quelling any struggle she attempted as he slid his other hand to her nape, and he angled his head, using the strength of his jaw to force open her mouth.
She made a sound deep in her throat that was part groan, part entreaty, and after a few timeless seconds he wrenched his mouth from hers.
Tasha wasn’t capable of saying a word. Her lips, her tongue felt numb from his invasion, and he released her with a sound of self-disgust.
Tears rose to the surface, shimmered there, and she blinked in an effort to prevent their spill.
Firm fingers caught hold of her chin, lifting it so she had no recourse but to look at him, and she swiftly lowered her lashes in an effort to hide the pain of his violation.
His husky oath was indistinguishable, and she stiffened as he traced a gentle finger over the swollen contours of her mouth.
‘Go,’ Jared adjured quietly. ‘Before I do or say something totally regrettable.’
She didn’t need second bidding, and she stepped out of the shower stall, caught up a towel, wrapped it round her slender curves and escaped into the bedroom, where, towelled dry, she donned fresh underwear, stepped into jeans and pulled on a cotton-knit top.
Jared emerged into the bedroom, a towel tucked low over his hips, and Tasha felt the impact of his analytical appraisal. At that precise moment she hated him, so much so it brought on a wave of nauseousness.
She must have paled, for she heard his sharpened demand. ‘Tasha?’
Seconds later she made a running dive for the en suite and was horribly, violently ill.
He was there, holding her shaking shoulders, stroking the hair back from her face, then when it was over he caught up a face cloth and cleansed her face.
‘OK?’ he queried gently.
Oh, God. ‘I think so.’ Morning sickness had reared its head again. With a vengeance, she accorded wryly, and wretched timing.
‘Stay here. I’ll go make some tea and toast.’
Her stomach roiled at the thought of food. Yet the pregnant mother’s manual was big on tea and something light to ease the symptoms.
‘I don’t think I’m quite done,’ she managed a few seconds ahead of a repeat performance.
Jared held her, then cleansed her face again, swearing softly as he caught sight of the tears welling in her eyes.
‘Don’t.’
It was just reaction, and she told him so as he lightly kissed the moisture from beneath each eye.
‘I’ll be OK. Just…get me that tea,’ she said shakily.
While he was gone she cleaned her teeth, brushed her hair and tied it back, then when Jared returned she sank into a chair and sipped the hot, sweet tea. The slice of toast helped, and by the time she’d finished both tea and toast she felt almost human again.
‘Thanks.’
He took the empty cup and plate and placed them on the bedside pedestal.
‘How long have you been suffering morning sickness?’
‘About a week.’
He stroked gentle fingers down her cheek. ‘Do you feel up to a walk along the beach, then breakfast at Tedder Avenue?’
The thought of fresh air and sunshine was a welcome one. ‘Yes.’
‘Give me five minutes to shave and dress.’
Tasha slid her feet into trainers, fixed the laces, then she collected the cup and plate and took them out to the kitchen.
Jared joined her there, and together they rode the lift down to the lobby, then stepped out onto the expanse of sand.
He caught hold of her hand and threaded his fingers through her own. She wanted to remain angry with him for that punishing kiss in the shower. Except somehow his caring for her afterwards negated any feeling of animosity.
It was a lovely morning, the sun’s warmth caressed her skin as a soft ocean breeze teased a few loose tendrils of her hair. The smell of the sea was subtle, just a drift in the air, and Tasha lifted her face to catch it as they wandered towards Narrow Neck, then turned and retraced their steps.
Breakfast became brunch, and afterwards they returned to the apartment to pick up their overnight bags, then Jared headed the car towards the mountains, taking the steep, winding gradient up to Mount Tamborine, where they stopped at one of several roadside cafés for tea and scones before browsing the crafts and wares.
Tasha bought some homemade jam and a cute little pottery cat, then they took the road through Canungra and onto the northern motorway, reaching Brisbane just before dark.
‘Shall we settle for pizza or Chinese?’ Jared queried as the Brisbane river came into view.
‘Pizza.’
‘Take-out, or eat in?’
‘You’re giving me a choice?’
‘Of course.’
She thought of red-checked tablecloths, empty Chianti bottles with lit candles, the redolent aroma of spices and garlic bread, and didn’t hesitate in naming an upmarket pizzeria in suburban Milton.
It was a very pleasant way to end the day, and she selected her favoured capriccioso while Jared settled for one loaded with salami, olives and sun-dried tomatoes.
Heaven, Tasha decided as she finished one slice and reached for another.
‘You’re due to appear in court tomorrow.’ A well-publicised rape case which promised to be a media circus. ‘Are you happy with the jury selection?’ Something that was often a long and arduous process before the defence and prosecuting legal representatives were satisfied.
‘Yes.’
It was a definitive answer, and she knew only too well the long hours he’d devoted to the case, the research involved. ‘Who is the presiding judge?’
Jared named him, and her eyebrows rose a little. Well-respected, the judge was nevertheless known in legal circles for his tough stance on certain issues, and rape was one of them.
The facts were indisputable, the evidence weighted very strongly in favour of the victim. However, she was aware one of Jared’s highly skilled colleagues had been engaged as defence.
‘A clash of the titans,’ she observed lightly. It was an unnecessary question, but she asked it anyway. ‘Soleil is in on the case?’
‘Her father offered me the brief,’ Jared drawled, and she inclined her head.
‘Of cour
se,’ she acknowledged wryly.
‘Cynicism doesn’t suit you.’
‘She wants you,’ she posed with pseudo-sweetness.
‘While I see her only as an associate.’
‘Albeit a very attractive one.’
He regarded her quizzically. ‘You want me to deny that?’
‘And lie to me?’
A husky chuckle emerged from his throat. ‘Are you going to finish that pizza?’
‘Don’t change the subject.’
The exchange of light banter brought forth memories of other occasions when they’d stopped off for pizza after a lazy Sunday. Except then when the meal was over they’d drive home, share the spa and indulge in a glass of wine, before making love long into the night.
Tonight, however, would have a different ending, and she experienced a twinge of sadness as Jared drew the car to a halt outside the entrance to her Kangaroo Point apartment.
‘If I ask you to collect a few changes of clothes and come back with me,’ Jared posed quietly, ‘will you refuse?’
Did he know just how much she wanted to do that? To go back to where they were ten days ago? But there was the thing…you couldn’t turn back the clock. You could only go forward.
‘I—don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘Because you don’t want to? Or you can’t?’
‘Both.’
‘You know I won’t leave it there?’
She chose not to answer as she released her seat belt and opened the door. ‘I’ll just collect my bag.’
He doused the lights and switched off the engine.
‘There’s no need to get out.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He reached into the back seat and retrieved her overnight bag.
‘Thanks,’ Tasha said seconds later as they reached the entrance. She used her key to open the outer door and took hold of her bag. ‘Goodnight.’
CHAPTER TEN
JARED rang just before eight as she was finishing her second cup of tea.
‘How did you fare this morning?’
Tasha endeavoured to ignore the way her pulse leapt at the sound of Jared’s voice. ‘A repeat of yesterday.’
‘That bad, huh?’
She wanted to say yes, and it’s all your fault. Except it wasn’t his fault any more than it was hers.
‘I’ll be fine.’ She’d be even better if she wasn’t bent on doing this alone.
‘I’ll call you tonight.’
Tasha disconnected the call, then headed for the shower.
The following few days were hectic, with work consuming most of Tasha’s waking hours. She went in to the office early, and took paperwork home, often not closing her laptop until late. Only to repeat the procedure all over again.
Jared was similarly caught up with the current case in hand, and he phoned each day, usually in the morning from his chambers before she left for the city.
It came as no surprise when he rang Wednesday morning just as she was putting the finishing touches to her make-up, and she kept her tone brisk.
‘I’m about to walk out the door.’
‘So keep it brief?’
‘Please.’
‘I have to fly down to Melbourne tomorrow morning for a mediation meeting.’
‘Is Soleil going with you?’
‘Yes.’
Wonderful. ‘Have fun,’ she managed lightly, and heard the mild exasperation in his voice as he said, ‘I’ll ring when I get back.’
‘There’s no need,’ she said stiffly. She’d tried for ‘nice’ and failed. Soleil had that effect on her.
It didn’t sit well Soleil was accompanying him to Melbourne, no matter how she qualified it was business and they’d be on the evening flight back to Brisbane.
Instinct did much to assure Soleil’s innuendo was based on wishful thinking. Yet there were sufficient facts woven in with the lies to cast doubt.
Strong feelings, even stronger emotions had roused her temper, and it wasn’t done yet.
‘Have a good trip, a successful day.’ The words held little more than formal politeness. Angry with herself, him, she cut the call.
It was as well the day was a hectic one, for there was little or no time to think. A lunch break became something she sacrificed in lieu of a sandwich snatched between seeing clients, supplemented by fruit, ditto.
She stayed late, took work home, and retired later than she should have, only to wake at dawn unable to get back to sleep.
It didn’t help to have Jared’s image rise up and taunt her, or for the way her mind seemed bent on reflection.
Her doubt had centred around his perspective, his long-term commitment, and not wanting to force the issue of marriage if he hadn’t wanted the legality of it.
Yet in the past few weeks nothing had changed, except the changes she herself had made.
At what point would he relinquish the relationship and resign himself to being a single father?
Worse, move on to another relationship?
It wasn’t as if there weren’t any number of women only too willing to step into her shoes! Soleil was merely one of many.
The thought she might lose him filled her with fear.
Dammit, she couldn’t just lie here and stew. She’d go make some tea, nibble a slice of toast, boot up her laptop and work until it was time to shower and dress, and go into the office.
Tonight, she’d call Jared and suggest they meet and attempt to reconcile their differences. There really wasn’t any other way…for her. And she clung to the hope it was the same for him.
The day became a replica of the preceding one, with a staff shortfall and urgent work redistributed.
It proved a welcome distraction, and she entered her apartment at six, fixed a healthy chicken salad and ate it as she browsed through the day’s newspaper.
When she finished she dealt with the dishes, filled a glass with chilled water, then she crossed to the lounge and switched on the television.
The news was running, and she stood engrossed in an update on a worsening crisis in the Middle East. The picture disappeared, the newsreader picked up an updated bulletin and began reading as the tele-monitor ran a newsflash across the lower edge of the screen.
Bomb explosion at Melbourne’s Tullamarine Airport. Seven dead, several injured. Domestic terminal evacuated and all flights cancelled until further notice.
Did stomachs plummet? Hearts stop? Tasha felt as if she experienced both in succession.
Jared. Ohmigod, Jared. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe, and she fought against the terror as she raced to the phone.
If he was OK, he’d have rung from his cell-phone. Somehow the fact he hadn’t only heightened her fear.
Except she had his number on speed dial, and she tried it first. Just in case. Only to receive the ‘out of range’ signal. Maybe he’d switched it off prior to boarding. She sent an SMS text message, and waited anxiously for a response, but none came.
There had to be an emergency number set up for direct enquiries. The television station would screen it, and she flicked from channel to channel before she discovered the newsflash, then began dialling.
There was no indication of the passage of time as her call was dealt with, particulars patiently taken, a seemingly interminable wait while the operator checked available details.
‘We have no one of that name listed among the injured,’ the operator confirmed, then offered quietly, ‘Please check back in an hour.’
Tasha knew she’d go mad if she had to wait an hour, but she had no recourse other than to sit by the phone as she watched newsflash updates via television.
Jared has to be alive. He has to be OK.
The words kept echoing through her brain like a mantra. After a while she began doing deals with the deity.
One clear fact emerged. Life without Jared would be no life at all.
It was something she’d known all along, yet she had stupidly clung to principles…principles which now meant nothing.
Tasha gazed sightlessly at images on the television screen, and only jerked into full alert when the latest newsflash showed.
Five minutes before the hour was up she redialled the emergency number, only to wait in line until her call could be answered by an operative.
Ten minutes later she was told Jared’s name did not appear on their growing list of identified injured.
There was an overriding need to board a flight and go there in person. As if that would do any good. But at least she’d be there.
Oh, dear God. If anything happened to him, she’d die.
The sudden peal of her cell-phone didn’t register for a millisecond, then she snatched it up with shaking fingers and activated the call.
‘Tasha.’
The sound of Jared’s voice sent her into a tailspin, and she clutched the phone unit so hard her fingers went numb. ‘Are you OK?’ She hardly recognised her own voice; it was so choked the words were almost indistinguishable.
‘A scratch or two from flying debris.’ He wouldn’t reveal how luck had played a part, or just how close he’d come to serious injury. ‘The medics insisted we all be transported to hospital. My cell-phone died. This is the first chance I had to get to a phone. We’ll be accommodated overnight, flights are being rescheduled from another airport. I’ll phone as soon as I have further details.’ He paused fractionally, then added quietly, ‘I love you.’
Tasha swallowed the lump in her throat, and wanted to weep as the connection was cut.
How could he say that, then hang up? Leave her literally gasping for air at a time when she’d just come out of a ragged few hours when she imagined he could be severely injured or worse?
Restless, too much so to sit, she sought physical activity in the form of house-cleaning. Not that the apartment needed much, but she directed her energies into removing every speck of dust and buffing everything to a gleaming shine.
It was after ten when she finished, and she opted for a shower, then bed. Would Jared ring again tonight? Unlikely, given Melbourne was on summer daylight-saving time and an hour ahead of Brisbane.
Sleep didn’t come easily, and she twisted and turned in bed, punched her pillow countless times, then gave up in disgust and padded out to the lounge to sit curled up in a chair watching late-night television.
The Pregnancy Proposal Page 11