Читать книгу Modern Romance October 2015 Books 5-8 - Дженнифер Хейворд - Страница 16
ОглавлениеDIANA AWOKE TO brilliant sunshine, a pure, magnetic version of it that reflected off the turquoise sea in a blinding display of light that cast everything in a warm, resonant glow. She would have lain there, reveling in it, had the thought of exactly where she was not flashed through her head at that precise moment. And whom she was with.
A fuzzy memory of Coburn carrying her in from the car, half-asleep, and up to this room followed it. She had woken only long enough to ensure herself he was sleeping somewhere else before she’d buried her face in the lavender-scented sheets and surrendered again to unconsciousness.
She flicked her gaze to the door. She needed to get out of here.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she reached for the short robe draped over the back of a chair and pulled it on. With barely a glance at the beautiful nautically themed room with its huge canopied four-poster bed and multiple views across the sparkling sea, she found her purse on a chair near the window and rummaged through it for her phone. Rummaged some more. Frowned. She had definitely put it in there when they’d left Africa. It was the one thing she wouldn’t leave behind.
Coburn. Heat, the combustible kind, spread through her like wildfire. Yanking the door to her room open, she flew down the hallway to the other bedrooms in search of her target. But they were all empty, including the one Coburn had commandeered. Spinning around, she left the room and went down the stairs two by two to the living room. The beautiful airy space that overlooked the sea was empty. So was the magnificent library with its ten-foot-high built-in bookcases and scads of priceless old volumes lining them. She turned on her heel and walked toward the kitchen, the only place she hadn’t checked. It was empty, too. If she knew Coburn, he was out for a ten-mile jog or taming the water with some sort of boat or machine.
Combing the kitchen, she searched for a phone. When she didn’t find one there she went back to the library. It didn’t have one, either. What kind of a house didn’t have phones? Had Coburn gotten rid of them along with her cell phone?
Her heart slammed into her chest. She could not be kidnapped on a private island. She could not. She spied Coburn’s laptop on the desk. Pouncing on it, she tried to log on, but it was password protected. A curse escaped her lips. Really?
She went back to the kitchen, looking for something, anything that would tell her where she was. She was rifling through drawers when Coburn strolled lazily into the kitchen in shorts and a T-shirt soaked with perspiration. She froze, hand in the drawer.
“Looking for something?”
She pulled her hand out of the drawer, closed it and leaned against the counter. “My phone, actually. You wouldn’t happen to know where it is?”
“I took it,” he responded casually. Conversationally. “You can’t have it.”
Her blood boiled in her veins. She pushed away from the counter and crossed the kitchen to stand in front of him, her body vibrating with fury. “Give me my phone.”
“No. We are here to work through our issues, Diana. I’ll not have you calling Daddy so you can orchestrate a rescue.”
“That would be difficult when I don’t know where I am.”
“Double insurance.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “You can’t keep me here like this. Kidnapping is a crime.”
His mouth curved. “You are my wife. That would be kind of hard to prove.” He waved a hand at her as if she was a six-year-old in need of diversion. “Why don’t you go put on a bathing suit and come for a swim? The sea’s like bathwater.”
Her boiling blood heated to a ferocious roll. He was holding her here against her will, had taken her phone and now he wanted her to go swimming with him? Was he insane? She flew at him, her fingernails poised to inflict maximum damage. He caught her easily, his fingers manacling around her forearms. “I take it that’s a no?”
She struggled against his grip. “You can’t do this. Let me call my father right now and I will consider giving you partial custody of this child by not siccing the police on you for kidnapping.”
He tightened his fingers around her wrists, his blue gaze ice-cold as it rested on her face. “You left me no choice, Di. You walked away from me without telling me we were having a baby. If I take you back to New York you will disappear again and I will be talking to you through our lawyers. And since I intend for us to make this marriage work for the sake of our child, that is not happening. We are hashing this out right now, this inability to coexist together.”
“In a week? I understand you are angry. I understand we have things to work out with regards to this baby, but I am not staying married to you, Coburn.”
“Why?” His gaze lashed her face, all belligerent testosterone. “Don’t you think it’s better for our baby to grow up with both parents?”
“If we didn’t hate each other, yes.”
His gaze narrowed. “We have a lot of emotions in the mix right now, but hatred isn’t one of them.”
She wasn’t sure what to call it, but whatever it was, it wasn’t a good basis for a marriage. “We can’t make this work. We’ve proved that.”
“The only thing we’ve proved is what doesn’t work. How good we are at running away from our problems instead of facing them.”
Her eyes widened. “Yes,” he said harshly, “I’m including myself in that. I know I wasn’t perfect, either. We have fundamentally different views on how we want to live our lives, Diana, but somehow we are going to have to reconcile those views for the sake of this baby. To give him or her a chance to grow up with the solid foundation of a cohesive family unit.”
“What if I want to be happy?” she blurted out. “You don’t want to marry anyone else right now, but what if you do someday? What if I want to? Shouldn’t I have that choice?”
His eyes darkened into that midnight shade of blue she knew signaled imminent danger. “You don’t want to marry someone else, Di, because if you did, you would have filed for divorce months ago. You wouldn’t have waited a year to do it, until you were about to step on a plane and fly off to another continent so the coward in you wouldn’t have to face your unresolved feelings for me until the papers were signed and we were beyond the point of no return.”
“I don’t have unresolved feelings for you.”
His mouth twisted in a derisive curl. “That night on my terrace was strictly you getting yourself off, was it? The questions you asked about my other women, the way you tried to take me apart? That was all because you are so over me. I can see it now.”
An all-over body flush suffused her. “That was closure for me, Coburn.”
“Yeah, you looked like you had it when you left.” He studied her with that analytical intensity that seemed to reach right inside her. “There’s this thing that happens when I touch you. A need inside of you to connect that makes you slip out of that shell of yours and try to crawl inside of me. I can feel it when you do it. I felt it that night we were together, Diana. It’s still there.”
The husky play of his words singed her skin. If she’d tried to verbalize how being with Coburn made her feel, she couldn’t have done it better. Except he didn’t want her anymore—he wanted his child.
“I think you flatter yourself,” she denied. “Are you sure that isn’t your own emotion talking? Because there was a hell of a lot of anger in you that night, Coburn.”
“There still is.” He surprised her by admitting it. “But we’re talking about you and your refusal to acknowledge your emotions. You ran away because I was forcing you to address a part of yourself that terrifies you. You were afraid I would break down those walls and leave you wide-open for scrutiny.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed, pulling against his hold. “Let me go.”
“Not until you admit it.”
“Admit what?”
“You still have feelings for me we can build on.”
“I don’t.” She lifted her chin. “But even if I did, why would I tell you, a man who professes to feel nothing for me?”
A guarded expression passed over his face. “I believe if we put the past behind us, we can find something in what we had. Maybe it won’t be love, but it can be enough.”
A sharp pain went through her at his blunt admission. “You honestly think that’s enough to raise a child together?”
“I know it is. It’s more than the political arrangement my parents had. They didn’t even sleep together. There was no affection.”
And there it was, three years into their relationship, finally a clue into what made her husband tick. She yanked on her arms again, still manacled by his hands. “Let me go.”
He let go of one of her arms but only to move his palm to her back, her other wrist still held firmly in his grip. His gaze latched on to hers. “Kiss me right now without emotion, and I will call the pilot to fly us out of here before the day is done.”
She recognized it for the ploy it was. “I’m not playing that game, Coburn.”
“It isn’t a game. If you can prove to me there is no connection left between us to build on, I give you my word we will leave.”
She stared at him. At the matter-of-fact expression on his face. Surely she could do that. Surely after what he’d done to her that night at his apartment, she could kiss him without emotion. All she needed to do was channel the intense hatred she felt for him in that moment and she’d be out of here, free, because she knew if she stayed the consequences would be worse.
Her gaze met his. “Let me go.”
He uncurled his fingers from around her wrist but kept his palm to her back. His earthy, spicy scent from his morning run filled her head, reminding her of far too many hot, sweaty encounters with the man who held her. She took it as a warning, channeling a Zen place she didn’t even remotely feel as she curved her fingers into his powerful biceps for balance.
She stood on her toes, pressed her lips to his firm, beautiful mouth in a light pressure that was in no way threatening, then pulled back.
“There.”
Amusement glittered in his eyes. “Try a real kiss, Diana.”
She swallowed the urge to claw his eyes out instead. He was such a bastard. He wouldn’t kiss her that night in his bed, but now she was supposed to kiss him without emotion?
She took a deep breath and focused on the sensuous curve of his mouth that had always fascinated her. A man with a mouth made for kissing had been her initial impression of him, and it hadn’t steered her wrong. Coburn loved to kiss. He used to make out with her for the better part of an evening when they’d worked together on the sofa, before finally carrying her to bed. That was why when he’d refused to kiss her that night, it had felt like a total and complete rejection of everything she was...
Blanking her mind to the low, tight pain that tugged at her insides, she caught his lower lip between her teeth and tugged. It might have been a bit more punishment than pleasure, but he played along, opening up for her. She slid her mouth against his, this time in a caress meant to stimulate. His hand pressed firmer against her back as he gathered her into him, returning the kiss with a steady pressure that signaled his complete acquiescence. She stiffened at the contact, because wasn’t she supposed to be the one in control here? But then again a kiss involved two people, so she had to be okay with that.
Except then the weight of his solid, thickly muscled thigh moved between hers, the power of his corded muscles far too stimulating...
A few more seconds, she told herself, not about to be the one to cut this off so he could accuse her of reneging on their deal. She cupped his jaw in her fingers and dragged her mouth across the sexy contours of his, taking back control of the kiss. He felt like heaven, that was the problem. The soft, seductive, expert caress he gave back was one only Coburn knew how to give, as if he had all the time in the world to seduce her. It was everything she’d wanted when he’d taken her that night in his apartment, every bit of reassurance she’d craved that he was as much under her spell as she was under his.
It shattered her. Sucked her into a maelstrom of emotion she didn’t want to feel—memories of how very good they had been together when it had just been them worshipping how they made each other feel. How nothing could touch her when she was in Coburn’s arms because he was a part of her.
His palm at her back urged her closer into the V of his hard thighs. Deeper and harder the kiss went. When he urged her lips apart with the pressure of his and his tongue sought hers, she moved toward him, sliding her tongue along his in an unhurried, erotic movement she knew he liked. A shudder went through his big body. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “More.”
A shiver rocked through her. The way she could make him feel made her feel a little too invincible. Soothed the raw edges he’d left the night he’d set out to prove he didn’t care. Because it made him a liar as much as her.
She fitted her hips to his and rocked against his blatant arousal. The feel of him rubbing against her through the thin barrier of her silk robe sent a bolt of electricity to her toes. The taste of him, that essence that was distinctly Coburn, captivated her, enticed her on, his low growl into her mouth as he palmed her buttocks and held her still pulling a whimper from her throat.
The sound brought her crashing back to reality. She tore her mouth from his and flattened a palm against his chest. “No.”
He let her go. As if he’d made his point. Her gaze landed on his lust-infused blue one. On the rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to get his reactions under control. She bit back the confusion raging through her, threatening to bubble out of her, but it was too late. The satisfaction glittering in his eyes told her he already knew.
“You see,” he rasped, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, “that is what I am talking about. When you crawl inside of me and it’s so real it’s like you are inside of me, Diana. Tell me you will share that with someone else... Tell me you think it can get better.”
She couldn’t. She could not deny it when she felt so lost.
“Take me home,” she said quietly. “We can work this out, but take me home.”
“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression hard and implacable. “This is where we learn to sacrifice for the greater good. We leave our selfishness at the door and give our child the future he or she deserves. And the first step of making that happen is learning to understand each other because we clearly never did.”
She stared at him, knowing on some level he was right, but afraid to admit it. Afraid what this might mean for her sanity to try again with Coburn...
His mouth flattened at her continued silence. “I’ve had clothes put in your closet, including a bathing suit. I suggest you put one on while you think about doing the right thing. I have some cooling off to do.”
Her gaze dropped to his rampant masculinity straining against the confines of his shorts. It should have made her feel better to know he’d been as caught up in that as she had. Instead, she felt confused and on the verge of tears. She swallowed the feeling of helplessness that invaded her as she watched him walk away, so familiar and yet such a stranger to her now.
Her mind was too full to think, the late-morning sun already so hot the silk robe was sticking to her body like a glove. She wanted to thumb her nose at Coburn, to protest by going to her room and staying there, but the thought of being inside instead of on the breezy beach was intolerable. It seemed there was no way out of here.
She put on one of the bikinis hanging in the closet in her room, grabbed a protein shake from the well-stocked refrigerator in the kitchen and went down to the beach. A perfect stretch of golden sand stretched in front of the cottage, bounded by two high cliffs that rose in a dramatic collage of crashing waves, sparkling sun and rough-hewn rock. It was a view that must have cost its owner millions.
She wondered what Arthur Kent would think if he knew Coburn was holding her prisoner here. Would he care? Or would he bow down to the Grant influence as everyone else on this godforsaken earth did?
Frustration seared her bones. She stalked past Coburn, who was just a blip in the turquoise water, his powerful arms cutting a path through the sea far out in the breakers. Who did he think he was? He could not do this to her. And yet he was.
She kept walking until she reached the end of the cove. Stowing her empty protein shake on a rock, she went for a dip in the sea. The warm water slipped over her limbs like a silken gift from heaven. Something like sanity returned as she flipped over on her back and floated on the waves. She stayed there for a long time, her negative emotions draining away with the lull of the surf and the sun.
A villa sat perched on top of the cliff, sparkling in the sunlight, looking so ethereal surrounded by the clouds it brought to mind a house of the gods straddling the earth and heavens. Did it belong to Arthur Kent? It certainly would be the view she’d choose.
Perhaps Coburn would introduce her to their hosts when they returned on the weekend. If she hadn’t found a way to do smoke signals and get herself rescued before then...
Her mouth curved. At last finding something amusing about her intolerable situation, she pulled herself out of the water and went to sit on a big rock to dry off. Leaning back on her palms, she contemplated the endless horizon of blue. Allowed herself to consider what Coburn was proposing. She couldn’t deny reconciling with him and bringing up their baby together would provide the optimal environment for their child. Studies had shown that children were better off in families with parents who stayed together as long as the situation between the couple was on a reasonably agreeable footing. What changed that prognosis was when the relationship became toxic; when the environment was more harmful to the child’s well-being than beneficial. Then a couple was better off separating.
She thought about what Beth had said about her and Coburn. That sometimes the most passionate relationships were the ones that burned out the brightest because of the intensity of the emotion involved. It was so true for them. They had never had a middle ground. It had always been highs and lows: one minute they were completely wrapped up in each other, the next they were at each other’s throats.
Because they had refused to compromise. Coburn had been right about that. They had both been too selfish, too wrapped up in their own desires to want to give.
She closed her eyes against the brilliant power of the sun. As altruistic as she’d like to believe her work, as much as she hadn’t had any choice in the crazy hours her residency had demanded, she had a choice now. Surgeons had families. They made it work. Yes, having a baby put a dent in your career. No matter what the Pollyanna types liked to say, motherhood slowed your ascent up the ladder. She’d heard male doctors make comments in the surgeon’s lounge about dilettante mothers who didn’t take their careers seriously. There was a stigma about it in the still-chauvinistic surgical community.
But none of this changed the fact that she was pregnant now. She either brought this child up with Coburn in a loveless marriage based on sex or they negotiated joint custody and passed the child back and forth like a tennis match.
She grimaced. Neither sounded appealing. To live with Coburn knowing he would never love her the way he once had would tear her heart out. Treating her child like a pawn in their separate agendas seemed equally distressing. Unless she found a way to control her feelings. Unless, she expanded in an “aha” moment, she took her emotions out of the equation. Which would by definition mean no sex. Just a convenient partnership to bring up their child.
Not what Coburn had been envisioning, surely, by his speech on the plane. But the only way she could play this without ending up a victim of her feelings was to negate them.
She thought about what she’d said to him. About marrying again... Thought about how completely he had owned her just now when she had kissed him. There would never be a man like that for her again. He was right. You came across that once in a lifetime if you were lucky. She’d had her turn.
What clinched it for her finally was Coburn’s statement about giving their child a better emotional base than he’d had. She wanted that. She wanted her baby to grow up with parents who cared about his or her emotional well-being—parents who didn’t treat their offspring like a chess piece in the game of marriage. Parents who cared about more than what grades the child brought home or what school he or she got into.
Her eyes fluttered closed. In that, she and Coburn were united. Not a bad thing to devote your marriage to.
When the sun got too hot to take, she stood up and brushed the sand from her limbs. For the first time in a week since her doctor had uttered those momentous three words, she had clarity as she walked back along the beach. Her husband might not like her plan, but that was all that was on offer. He could take it or leave it.
