by Ann Mcintosh
Who could blame her if sleeping with him was just an impulse born of an emotionally shocking day?
Yet their lovemaking had been more beautiful and heartrending than any he’d experienced before. Holding her had felt right. Touching her had awakened in him instincts—of tenderness and caring—he’d long thought dead. And while it hadn’t brought any memories to life, at the same time it was familiar, comfortable. His mind might not recognize her, but his body seemed to, and the intimacy of that had almost undone him.
Once more his thoughts turned to the loss he’d sustained, not of his memories, but of the time he could have shared with this beautiful and remarkable woman. And with his son. The anger at being cheated of a life he was sure would have been more fulfilling and satisfying than the one he’d been living bubbled once more to the surface.
Yet what good could come from yearning for the impossible? He had to accept the night, her lovemaking, as another gift, one he probably wouldn’t be given again.
That was a good thing, on the balance. Establishing a relationship with her outside of the parental one left him vulnerable to the kind of pain he never wanted to feel again.
The agony of being a disappointment, of not being the man she thought or hoped he was.
Restless, his anxiety rising, he quietly slipped from the bed and the room, grabbing his pants as he went.
Putting back on the rest of his clothes, he went into the kitchen, stepping over the temporary barrier they’d set up to keep the husky from having free rein of the house. Both dogs looked up at the sound of his entrance, and when he went toward the door, got up to follow him.
Pausing to put on his coat and slip his feet into his boots by the back door, he contemplated whether the husky needed a leash, but decided it would be okay to let her run free. None of the rescue dogs had much experience with wide-open spaces and tended to stick close to what they considered safe territory. Of course, she’d only been here for a few hours, but with the way she closely shadowed Bax, Rohan thought she wouldn’t stray far.
The cold air stung his cheeks, and he wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck, aware of the fact he wasn’t as warmly dressed as he should be, but the need to be outside was almost primal. Something about the winter night spoke to his soul and eased his anxiety.
While his body continued to hum with pleasure, his mind swung in dizzying circles, thinking about Elise, Jeevan, the past, the future.
He knew without a doubt that there was no future between him and Elise. There would be no encore to the lovemaking. He couldn’t afford to open himself up that way. Not when his relationship with Jeevan might be affected.
At one point in the past he’d thought about being a father, yet had never been sure he’d be any good at it. The aftermath of his accident, the way everyone criticized who he’d become, had made him believe himself unworthy of being a parent.
How do you love, when you can’t seem to feel anything too deeply?
Yet, with the revelations of the day, that theory had been blown out of the water.
He was nothing but a mass of emotion right now, and the thought of meeting his son brought equal parts fear and pleasure crashing over him.
The knowledge of all he’d already lost in life was a constant refrain in his head, and he couldn’t risk putting himself in a position to lose even more.
His sole focus had to be Jeevan, and making sure the lessons Rohan had learned from his own father showed him what not to do, so he could be, at the very least, a decent one.
And being that kind of man didn’t include causing pain or disappointment to the child’s mother.
Recalling how his father had become increasingly overbearing as time passed, while his mother faded to a kind of quiet shadow in the glare of her husband’s bullying, made his stomach clench in disgust. He knew he wasn’t like that, but there were myriad ways to hurt and to harm those closest to you.
Then he shook his head, trying to think of the future instead of the past.
Elise deserved better than him—as a lover, or more—but for Jeevan he’d have to find a way to be the best he could be, as a man, so as not to destroy his only chance of a good relationship with his son.
Calling for the dogs, he let them back inside and, after taking off his outerwear, went back into the living room. He picked up the albums again, losing himself in the pictures.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ELISE AWOKE EARLY on the day before Christmas Eve, her mind too sluggish and slow to bring up the list of her daily chores the way it usually did.
She knew she should get up—there was so much to do—but lay still for a moment more, wondering why everything felt so strange. Slightly askew.
Then it came to her.
She’d had another dream about Rohan making love with her, but this time, instead of feeling bereft and frustrated, she felt happy. Satiated.
Absolutely wonderful.
Then her heart started racing, as she remembered it hadn’t been a dream. Rohan was not only alive but here in Banff, and her bed.
Or he had been in her bed.
A quick glance told her he was no longer there, and a rush of disappointment made her sigh.
When had he left? Stretching out her hand, she found the sheets were cold, so she knew he’d been gone for at least a while.
Had he slept beside her? She wished she knew.
Then she forced herself to come back down to earth and leave the fantasyland she was tempted to remain in.
It didn’t matter whether he’d slept there or not. In fact, them making love didn’t matter, either, regardless of how magical and special it had been.
She’d recognized how selfish she was being, even while reveling in his touch, and now it was time to let her common sense and parental duty take precedence.
In the cold light of morning, the only matter of importance was breaking the news to Jeevan and giving him and Rohan a chance to develop a good relationship. Well, realistically, any kind of relationship would be a start, but it was up to her to step back—from them both—to give them the leeway to bond.
Elise wasn’t naive enough to think it would be easy or happen in a flash. There’d already been one Christmas miracle; no need to be greedy and hope for another.
And there was the rest of her Christmas preparations to consider, she thought, swinging her legs out of bed with a decisive move. As she rose to her feet, she was determined that nothing would change, or be missed, of their traditional festivities, except that Rohan would be there, too.
But that realization had her suddenly plunking back down onto the bed, almost light-headed.
All those years ago, he’d promised to be back for Christmas, and hadn’t come. That first year, heartbroken, she’d locked herself away from everyone but her sister and family, unable to bear the thought of Rohan no longer being with her, or able to return.
Then Jeevan had been born, and he’d filled some of the holes left in her heart. Given her a reason to go on.
But Christmas had never been the same.
She’d forced herself to celebrate every year, to give Jeevan the kind of Christmases children dream of, but her heart was never truly in it. Not for herself anyway. Oh, she’d enjoyed them through her son’s eyes. His childish wonder had buoyed her spirits, and his laughter salved her wounded soul.
As he’d gotten older, he’d come to expect their holidays together to be mostly the same, and she’d complied, because by then it was tradition. Once they’d gone on a Caribbean cruise, her gift to him when he graduated with his first degree, but they’d agreed that while it was fun, it wasn’t really Christmas. Home was where they preferred to be.
After all, she was his family—all there was locally, since Emma, her husband and kids had moved to British Columbia—and he was hers.
Now, after all this time, Rohan had showed up, and Elise had t
o accept nothing would ever be the same.
Part of her almost wished he’d been to blame for his desertion, so she could flippantly think, Twenty-seven years late and a dollar short. But he hadn’t been, and for him, finding out he’d had a son whose existence had been kept from him was painful. She’d seen it in his eyes, in his expression, when he was looking at the photographs, and she’d known she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him more.
Like give Jeevan a reason not to like him. And Jeevan, being very protective of his mother, would definitely have something to say if he thought they’d slept together and Rohan wasn’t serious about the relationship.
And why would Rohan be inclined to be serious?
Sure, their sexual chemistry clearly was still off the charts, but he didn’t care about her the way she cared about him. Not when he couldn’t even remember her—when he couldn’t remember the love they had so passionately shared.
Because it had never been just sex between them, all those years ago. Instead, there’d been an instant, mutual connection of their hearts and souls, although it had taken losing him for her to admit it. Having lost so much already in her life, she’d been loath to trust in the longevity of their relationship, and it had taken having Jeevan to prove she could never really love too much.
No matter the potential cost.
Elise remembered what Rohan and she had shared. Too bloody well, really. But there was no way she was going into a new relationship with him, knowing she was the only one capable of having that depth and strength of love rekindled.
Best to keep it friendly and light, and to forget about her romp down memory lane, even if the night together was best described as incendiary, and the chemistry between them combustible.
Decision made, she got up again and set to making the bed, trying to ignore how her stomach flipped and heart raced as Rohan’s scent rose from her sheets.
While in the bathroom, she looked out of the window, and in the early morning light saw Rohan walking along the driveway, Baxter and Phoebe following him. For a moment she allowed herself the luxury of watching and remembering the erotic, ecstatic night just gone.
The way he touched her had lit a fire within, and even now, despite knowing it shouldn’t be repeated, she felt it smoldering beneath her skin.
Phoebe, who’d been slinking along behind Bax, suddenly paused, head cocked. Baxter stopped, too. The two dogs trotted over to the edge of the driveway, and then jumped over the snowbank to inspect something on the other side.
As Elise reached for her toothbrush, she noticed Rohan look back and realize the dogs weren’t following. Of course he strode over to see what had them so interested and, once on the other side of the mound of snow, he stooped down.
What were they all looking at?
Hurrying through her morning routine, Elise pulled on a cozy sweater and pair of jeans and was on her way to the kitchen when she heard the back door open.
“Elise, can you come here a moment, please?”
“I’m here,” she replied as she stepped through the door to find him cradling something in his hands. “What is that?”
“A raven. The dogs found it. It’s still alive, but just barely.”
Drawing closer, she saw the pitiful mound of black feathers cupped in his palm, and all her recent worries faded into the background.
“What do you need?” she asked, even as she was crossing to the utility cupboard to pull out a clean towel. “I have a hot-water bottle we can put it on.”
He glanced at her with eyebrows raised. “I see this isn’t your first avian rescue.”
She snorted, folding the towel. “Nowhere near the first. Jeevan had a knack for finding injured birds and bringing them home. And he has a soft spot for the Corvidae family.”
“It looks to be a youngster, probably a yearling,” Rohan said, putting the raven gently on the outstretched towel. “And the wing is injured. Where can I put it, so I can examine it better?”
“Use the kitchen table,” she replied, already halfway to the hall closet, where the hot water bottle was stored. “I can disinfect it later. And I think we still have a small cage in the garage. I’ll go look.”
“Could you get my medical bag out of my car, too, while you’re out there?” Rohan had pulled off his jacket and scarf and was rolling up his sleeves.
“Sure.”
First, though, she filled the hot-water bottle, and as Rohan lifted the bird, put it between the folds of the towel. To her surprise, the bird was already exhibiting some signs of life, but it wasn’t struggling or showing fear, which made her wonder just how badly it was injured. Ravens usually fought to be free and away from humans, even when hurt, but this one was terribly lethargic.
By the time she got back with the cage and bag, Rohan had the raven covered by a drape of the towel, and the bird’s dark eyes flickered.
“The poor fellow has a coracoid injury, and he’s very thin,” Rohan told her as she set his bag next to him.
“Broken?”
“No. From the swelling, it seems to be muscle damage, and it’s probably been hurt for a while. I’m going to apply a figure-eight bandage to keep the wing immobilized, but we’ll need to get it to a wildlife rehabilitation center. Is there one here?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I think the closest one is in Cochrane, about an hour away.”
“I’ll take it there, then, once I get it bandaged,” he replied. “Rehabbing a bird like this is a full-time job—one I’m not prepared to take on right now.”
“Thankfully Jeevan learned that quickly, too,” she said. “He’d go and volunteer at the rehab center but knew he didn’t have the time to take on too many cases himself. He also realized that we weren’t set up to rehab and release, and he’s a huge proponent of that, although he’s aware not every bird can fend for itself in the wild once injured.”
Rohan cut a long length of vet tape, and Elise moved closer to hold the raven while he wrapped the wing against its body. Their fingers brushed, and a shiver fired along her spine, making her breath catch in her chest.
He glanced up and his eyes gleamed for an instant, as though he was remembering the night before, and then the shutters came down, leaving his expression bland and unconcerned.
“Hold it just here,” he said, showing her what he needed, his voice cool.
It shouldn’t hurt. After all, wasn’t she just not long before telling herself it would be better that there was nothing physical between them? She’d even been going over in her head what she’d say to him so he knew there’d be no repeat of their lovemaking.
But his coldness did sting, although she refused to reveal that to him. She would be her usual self, no matter what, and just be glad if he took the onus off her by making the decision not to push for a closer relationship.
As he wrapped the bird’s wing against its body, her stomach grumbled, probably annoyed at not even having had a cup of coffee yet, and the corner of Rohan’s lips twitched.
“I’m going to make breakfast when we’re finished here,” she said. “Want some, before you head to Cochrane?”
“That would be great,” he replied, his skilled hands making short work of immobilizing the raven’s wing. “I’m not sure this little guy is going to survive, so it makes sense to watch him for a little while before making the drive.”
They prepared the cage with a liner, and once the bird was ensconced, she washed her hands and poured herself a cup of coffee. Rohan was at the sink, and now that she had a chance to really look at him, she realized he looked tired. Drawn.
“Are you feeling okay?” She used her doctor voice, although it was very much the woman worried about him. But before he could answer, she held up her hand and said, “And don’t give me a stock ‘I’m okay... I’m fine,’ answer either. You look like hell.”
He shook his head, brows coming together for an ins
tant. “I’m just tired. I was too keyed up to sleep last night, and spent a few hours going through the pictures.”
Was he worried about what had happened between them? He’d been put through the wringer the day before, and she didn’t like the idea that their sleeping together was adding to his stress. Although before she’d thought to not say anything unless he brought it up, now she decided it was better out in the open, so it could be resolved, once and for all.
“About last night,” she began, making sure to keep her voice clinical. “I let old emotions and nostalgia get the better of me, and I knew, even when it was happening, that it wasn’t a good idea. But we’re not kids, so let’s talk about it and make sure we’re on the same page.”
“Okay,” he said, in a distant, noncommittal tone that set her teeth on edge.
Then he just looked at her, eyebrows raised, as though waiting for her to continue. Tamping down her annoyance and hurt, Elise took a breath and said, “I can’t allow my baggage to jeopardize your chance to build a relationship with Jeevan. I know he’s an adult, but I think he needs to see us as separate units at this point. We shouldn’t muddy the waters by fooling around, making him think, even for a second, that we might get together.”
He gave her a long look, while nodding slowly.
“Thank you for the candor, and I think you’re right,” he said, finally. “It wasn’t a good idea.”
She’d said it first, so why did his agreement wound her so much? But they’d started down this road and needed to get to the end.
“I think the main things we need to concentrate on are how to tell Jeevan and how to be supportive of his reaction, whatever that may be.”
“I agree. Our son has to be our first concern.”
He looked away, and she noticed a muscle jumping in his jaw. Realizing he wasn’t as calm as he appeared, she reached out without thought and touched his hand.
“It’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.”
“I’ll keep hoping you’re right,” he replied, his voice cool, as he eased his hand free. “So what’s on the agenda for you today?”