Читать книгу In Bed With the Enemy: Dating and Other Dangers / Dare She Kiss & Tell? / Double Dare - Natalie Anderson, Aimee Carson - Страница 15

‘ETHAN! It’s you.’ The woman sounded stunned. ‘You and …’

Nadia flinched, felt his muscles spasm too. Suddenly it registered that she was resting all her weight against him. But she couldn’t pull away. The steel band across her back—i.e. his arm—wouldn’t let her. Desperately she licked her lips, so she could manage a smile, and turned her head to face the one woman she’d never, ever expected to meet.

‘Ethan?’ Another voice, and then two other, younger women materialised to flank his mother’s sides.

‘Mother, meet Nadia. Nadia, this is my mother, Victoria, and my two sisters Jessica and Polly.’ The mocking amusement in his voice was apparent, but it didn’t chase the surprise off all their faces.

Nadia wished he’d let her go so she could run away to a small dank cave. But he still held her far, far too closely. She shook her head slightly to dispel her fuzzed vision—only the situation dived drastically when she saw his family clearly. Ethan the Gorgeous just would have two glamorous, swan-like sisters and a model-of-class-and-refinement kind of mother.

‘How lovely to meet you.’ Polly swapped a look with her sister. ‘See—this is why I had to pick up Mother, instead of Ethan.’

‘Well, it wasn’t like you were going to bring a date.’ Ethan said, still not releasing Nadia from the inappropriate clinch.

‘We didn’t expect you to either,’ Polly snapped back. It took five crucifying silent seconds for her to realise the her gaffe before she blustered with a sheepish smile, ‘Of course it’s wonderful you could be here, Nadia. You have no idea how thrilled were are to meet you.’

Nadia kept digging her fingers into his shirt, trying to push him away, but the man-mountain wasn’t moving. She could feel the slow, deep rise and fall of his chest against her cheek—completely tantalising and scattering her focus. ‘Oh, thank you so much,’ she babbled to cover her confusion and embarrassment. ‘I’m so sorry to be here unexpectedly. I hope it’s no trouble. I really don’t want to intrude …’ She stumbled over the words and felt her flush deepening. ‘I can—’

‘Come right in.’ Ethan suddenly moved, turning and pushing her slightly ahead of him with firm hands on her upper arms.

The three women stepped back into the house. Nadia walked past them and kept walking to the nearest corner—quite a distance in the stunning large atrium she found herself in. Ethan kept pace.

‘I’m not staying here,’ she hissed, facing him.

‘You have to now.’ He grinned down at her, looking too relaxed all of a sudden. ‘This way you can get to know more about me—my family and my history and all those fascinating, irrelevant things women want to know. I’m sure my sisters would love to fill you in on a few facts.’

Oh, so this was his way of showing her more about himself? She shook her head—he was unbelievable, and now she was stuck here, with no wheels to get away. Of course her curiosity was ravenous … and he knew it.

From the stunned look on his mother’s and his sisters’ faces she figured him bringing a date wasn’t an everyday occurrence. But she knew not to read any significance into it—this was all about their little war.

‘This is so impolite,’ she told him, hoping for a last minute escape.

‘There was me thinking you were an expert at being impolite.’

She swallowed that, then fired right back. ‘You were the one keeping us in that shocking clinch on the step.’

His grin broadened back to wicked. ‘It would have been much more of a shock if I’d let you go and they’d seen how hard I was.’

Nadia flushed, both mortified and melting again. ‘You really think it’s okay for me to be here?’ She gazed up at his laughing façade and saw the shadows lurking in the back of them.

‘As long as you don’t get too close to me again while there are people around,’ he murmured.

‘There’s a little service at the church down the road in a few minutes, and then it’s back here for afternoon tea on the lawn.’ Polly crossed the atrium and interrupted them.

‘Oh.’ Nadia smiled through her breathlessness. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

Ethan laughed. ‘Jess and Polly have this thing planned with military precision. You can just be decorative, like me. Is he here?’ That last to his sister.

Polly nodded with a helpless sort of shrug. ‘But alone.’

Nadia didn’t miss the look that flashed between the two of them. Who were they talking about?

‘Hey, I haven’t had a chance to say congratulations on the latest league tables,’ Polly added suddenly. ‘Most billable hours, biggest revenue earner in the year to date. Way to—’

‘Don’t try to impress her, Polly,’ Ethan interrupted drily. ‘She sees through to my “internetorious” nature.’

Polly’s eyes widened and she looked flustered. ‘I wasn’t thinking of Nadia. I was thinking you should tell him.’

Ethan just grunted.

Polly sighed and turned the sheepish smile on Nadia again. ‘Come on, we’d better get going.’

The church was only a few minutes away, and all the guests walked in a festive procession. Nadia walked near the front, with Ethan still keeping a courteous hand at her back. She wished he wouldn’t. It made her skin there sing—while the rest of her yearned for more of his touch. Deep in her belly the urge for payback burned, but increasingly she doubted she had the skill to play these games with Ethan. She didn’t really know the rules.

To keep herself on track she focused on watching the little girl at the very front, the one all dressed up in a pretty pink confection and bouncing around as if she was on a sugar high.

‘That’s Isabella, Jess’s eldest.’ So Ethan was watching her too.

It seemed everyone else was watching them. As they stood circling the font during the service, she caught several people looking at her and at Ethan, and at the way he now held her hand tightly—not from affection, but so she couldn’t inch away from where he stood too close. Near the back of the group there was a gaggle of beautiful women in beautiful dresses, and they all had hungry features when they looked at Ethan. Even those women obviously in a couple glanced at them too often, curiosity bright in their eyes. Nadia felt more midget-like than ever, and dreaded the tea party to follow. She suspected she was in for some unsubtle grilling. And she was right.

‘Meet Nadia.’

Over and over again he introduced her, never once applying any description to her name—no my date, Nadia, no my friend, Nadia, no bitch queen, Nadia—and of course no one there was impolite enough to ask. Yes, he was a master at preserving the mystery. She met uncles, aunts, cousins, family friends, an endless stream of people involved in Ethan’s life. And she was too acutely aware of his presence at her side to be able to learn anything much.

‘I’ll get you another drink,’ he murmured, relieving her of her empty champagne glass. ‘We’ll switch to lemonade now, huh? Wouldn’t want you getting too hot from the wine.’

She ignored the wicked look he threw her, too nervous about being left alone to face questions to be able to rise to the banter. She turned towards the garden, hoping to avoid everyone, and followed a path between billowing roses, reaching out to touch some of the soft, perfect petals.

‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’

Nadia glanced up. From the other side of a crimson rose-laden bush, an older man held out a glass of champagne to her. To her surprise she recognised the smooth voice—but not his face. She took the glass he offered with a slight smile and rummaged round her useless mind. ‘Yes, they are.’

‘I like that one best—Grüss an Tepliz.’ He pointed to the red ones and added with a smile. ‘My name’s Matthew.’

Of course, she had it now—Matthew Rush. He was a veteran political correspondent. She’d heard him do hundreds of interviews on the radio in the morning, when her parents had been listening as they’d got ready for work. She’d been “shushed” so many times for talking during this guy’s reports. Matthew Rush—so in what way was he related to Ethan?

‘I’m Nadia.’ She smiled and took the tiniest sip from her glass. Ethan had actually been right in knowing she didn’t want more, but she wanted to be polite. ‘I like these.’

Matthew nodded. ‘Good choice. Souvenir de la Malmaison. Polly planted them for Jess a couple of years ago. She did a great job.’

‘Yes, they’re amazing.’ Nadia walked further into the display.

‘This one has an incredible scent.’ Matthew touched a bush smothered in milky blooms. ‘Madame Alfred Carrière.’

‘Nadia.’

Nadia turned at the sharp interruption. Ethan stood at the beginning of the grassy path. She could feel the waves of hostility from here. She snatched a quick glance at the man by her side. But Matthew Rush wasn’t giving anything away.

‘Ethan,’ he said calmly.

‘Dad.’ Ethan clipped the iciest answer back.

Nadia couldn’t have broken the huge, gaping silence even if she tried. Matthew Rush was Ethan’s dad?

Finally Ethan turned to her and spoke, his voice betraying a roughness that his father’s polished-for-radio tones never would. ‘I’ll show you the boathouse. Jess has just had it redecorated.’

‘Okay—great.’ She nodded and walked, sending Matthew a smile for farewell, completely confused as to why Ethan had suddenly turned into the ice man.

‘I didn’t know Matthew Rush is your father,’ she said, just for something to say.

He didn’t answer—just kept walking until they were both out of earshot and view of the other guests, until they were in front of the cute restored wooden boathouse. Only then did he turn and face her.

Nadia swallowed when she saw his expression—tight, pale, too controlled. He was angry. Angrier than the day he’d stormed in to see her at work and threatened to sue her. So angry she felt adrenalin surge into every cell, preparing her to fight. Except she didn’t know about what.

‘He’s pretty famous,’ she added, still confused. ‘I’ve heard so many of his reports.’ He’d written a book too, if she remembered right. And now the interviewer himself got interviewed.

‘Yeah, you and he would hit it off. You have a lot in common. The need to make yourself important. To be heard by a lot of people. To be recognised.’ Ethan almost snarled.

Okay, she knew she was missing something major, but he didn’t need to go off at her. ‘There’s a flaw in your analysis, Ethan.’ She wasn’t going to let him get away with insults just because he’d been hit by a freak bad mood. ‘Your father seeks fame under his own name. I’m anonymous. WomanBWarned isn’t about me—it’s about making a difference. I’m not taking advantage of my relationships to make a name for myself. In fact you’re the one who put our dates out there for everyone to read.’

He glared at her. She watched closely for the steam to start shooting from his ears.

‘Maybe you’re like your father,’ she said blandly. ‘Wanting to be popular.’

Colour flooded into his cheeks. ‘I’m nothing like him.’

‘Really?’ His vehemence intrigued her. ‘Why? What’s he like?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ he snapped. ‘Hell, how do you think it makes me feel to see him hitting on the girl I brought here?’

‘What?’ Nadia gaped. Then giggled. A lot. ‘Ethan, he wasn’t hitting on me. We were talking about the roses.’

But Ethan wasn’t seeing the funny side. Ethan was glowering all the more. ‘I’ve known the guy a whole lot longer than you. I’ve seen that look before.’

She shook her head—the idea was outlandish. ‘You’ve had too much champagne in the sun. You’re seeing things.’ But her humour died when he still didn’t lighten up. He really thought his own father had been flirting with her? That she’d go along with that? ‘You know, it’s completely insulting of you to think that I’d—’

‘I know you wouldn’t,’ he snapped. ‘But he would.’

Nadia thought about it. She hadn’t seen Matthew up at the front near Ethan’s mum during the christening. She hadn’t seen Ethan talk to him. There’d been some veiled comment from Polly when they’d arrived—about who’d been going to bring their mum, about whether “he” was here. And “him” being here alone had been major enough for Polly to point it out. She didn’t need a psychology degree to figure his parents had split—and that it wasn’t amicable. And that there’d probably been adultery issues. Yeah, now she thought about it, some would think Matthew was suave. She’d just thought he was old.

She nibbled the inside of her lip and tried not to stare at how uncomfortable Ethan looked. Fiercely defensive, but vulnerable, he turned away from her. She melted, and the desire to reassure him rose—she wished she understood what scar it was that had just been ripped open. ‘Ethan, your father was nothing but charming to me.’

‘Yeah, he’s always charming to women.’

Nadia half smiled and answered softly, ‘So are you.’

Sharply he faced her, but said nothing. Slowly the blaze in his eyes died out, leaving a hint of something like hurt. And he just looked at her. And the longer he looked, the more that hint of hurt seemed to grow. She didn’t understand why.

His lips parted, she heard the indrawn breath, and she waited, her own breath bated.

Piercing shrieks made them jump three feet apart.

‘Ethan, can you help me?’ Jessica hurried towards them, struggling to carry a very red-faced, wriggling toddler. ‘Bella’s having a meltdown, I need to feed the baby and Tom needs to entertain the guests—and Polly’s working hard to keep Mother away from Father.’

‘Sure—give her to me.’ All calm, Ethan reached out for the wailing child.

‘I’m so sorry to interrupt.’ Jess looked apologetically at Nadia. ‘What must you think of us?’

Nadia didn’t know what to think.

‘She’s just feeling out of sorts.’ Jess looked panicky as Bella geared up for another bellow.

‘She’s not the only one,’ Ethan muttered, getting his niece out of his sister’s earshot. ‘How good are you at entertaining little kids?’ He looked desperately at Nadia.

‘Hopeless,’ she whispered, but she followed. They bypassed the guests and circled wide back to the house. By the time they got inside the girl’s wails had lessened as her Uncle Ethan spoke quietly to her.

Nadia opened the door that Ethan pointed to, stepped in after him, and then closed it again. A music room. And Ethan was at the baby grand piano.

‘You have to stop crying because you have to help me play,’ he told the child. ‘You know I can’t play without your help.’

Bella sat on his knee, he put his hands on the keys, and she put her hands on top of his. It was obviously a game that had been played many times before. She was smiling now. So was Ethan. He started, got four bars into a really stodgy sort of grade three piece. Nadia bit her lips to stop laughing—it was sweet, really—and suddenly realised she was falling deeper into complete ‘like’ with a guy she’d been so sure was a shark.

But then Bella interrupted. ‘No, no. Not that one. The other one.’

‘You’re sure about that?’

Nadia recognised the teasing tone in Ethan’s words. She saw Bella did too. So this was part of a shared joke—a routine that had to be adhered to.

He started to play again, and Nadia was stunned into immobility. Despite the burden of a little person on his knee he played magnificently. Notes thundered as his fingers crashed over the keys. Bella glowed with excitement as her hands rode fast on his. A massive, loud passionate piece from Rachmaninov, huge and echoing and—hell, she’d had no idea Ethan could play so well.

‘Play it again?’ Bella asked, even though the last note hadn’t stopped vibrating round the room.

Ethan groaned and turned to spot Nadia. ‘Come and sit beside us. We can’t play again unless you do.’

Reading the look on the girl’s face, Nadia moved quickly.

Ethan laughed as she did and shuffled along the seat to make room. ‘Do you play?’

‘Not that good stuff. I was stuck with Mozart. My hands are too small to cope with any of the great romantics.’

‘Not so bad to be stuck with Mozart.’ He cuddled the little girl closer. ‘Play some now.’

His mood had been restored even more than the child’s. He was back to smiling and charming and gorgeous, and Nadia was floored. ‘I’m not as good as you, and I haven’t played in a really long time.’

‘I disagree with the former but am well aware of the latter.’

She looked balefully at him. ‘Do you think along those lines all the time?’

‘Around you? Absolutely.’

‘Play, play, play,’ Bella interrupted petulantly, completely missing the undertones.

‘Yeah, Nadia,’ Ethan said slyly. ‘Play.’

She sighed, hiding her smile, and put her hands in position. It really had been a while. But years and years of practice couldn’t be completely forgotten. After a few bars she began to enjoy it, giggling when she stumbled over the odd passage, but soon getting the feel for it again, losing track of time as she worked through her favourite piece. A quiet one—not the kind of rollercoaster ride of emotion up and down the stave that Ethan had crashed through.

‘Keep playing,’ he whispered in her ear.

She glanced sideways and saw Bella was fast asleep in his arms. Amusement warmed her. Oh, to be a kid again and fall asleep at the flick of a switch. He carefully edged off the stool. Nadia did as he’d asked and kept playing the soft sonata, turning her head a couple of times to see Ethan carefully putting his niece on the sofa near the big fireplace. He glanced at her and mouthed ‘keep playing’ again.

She nodded, glad to turn back so she wouldn’t have to go like goo inside, seeing him be so tender. She started the piece for a third time, even more gently, waiting for the word that it was okay to stop.

There wasn’t a word. There was touch. Hands—large hands—cupped her shoulders and then slid down the length of her arms to her hands. She bent her head and stopped playing.

‘I think you play beautifully,’ he whispered softly, his cheek brushing against hers.

She only had to turn a fraction to kiss him.

‘We’d better get back out there,’ he said, as if it was the last thing he wanted to do.

‘Of course.’ It was the last thing she wanted to do too.

They tiptoed out of the room, closing the door on the calm inside. She paused, not wanting to go back to the lawn. He stood still too, looking at her.

‘Nadia …’

She knew he wanted to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss him. No games this time—just because it would feel so good. So right. But something was stopping him, and Nadia didn’t know what.

‘Where is she?’ Jess appeared in the hall.

Ethan turned away and answered. The relief on Jess’s face revealed the stress she’d been feeling. Ethan put his arm along his sister’s shoulder and teased, ‘Soothing irritable girls is my speciality.’

Nadia didn’t know if that was a coded message to her or not. But the fact was she didn’t want to be soothed. She wanted to be stirred.

Ethan chatted to his sister for a few minutes more, but the second Jess wandered away to mingle, Ethan’s teasing façade dropped and he looked plain tired. No wonder. She’d just seen how hard he worked to be the charming guy who held it together for the women in his family even when he was at the very end of his own patience. But he’d masked it, protectively cared for Bella—and Jess—a gently wicked joker who’d made them feel better. But right now he looked like the one who needed help to feel better. She wished he’d talk to her. But why would he open up to his opponent in this stupid fight of theirs? She knew he was mortified by his mistake about his father, and she didn’t want to embarrass him more, but there was something there and she wanted to know.

‘I’d never have thought you’d play the piano like that,’ she said to lighten the atmosphere. ‘You look too rugby.’

He managed a grin. ‘The girls had to learn. I got sent along too. They never liked it enough to practise.’

‘But you did?’

He nodded briefly. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

People were departing, so it wasn’t as if they were the first to leave, but Nadia was glad they weren’t going to be the last.

‘You outdid yourself, Jess. Again.’ Ethan gave his sister another hug.

‘Thank you very much,’ Nadia said to Jess. ‘It was the most beautiful afternoon tea I’ve ever seen. Everything was so perfect.’ She wasn’t lying. The décor, the food, the style of it all had been amazing.

Jess smiled at her. So did Polly.

‘It would be really nice to see you again some time, Nadia,’ Polly called after them.

With an uncomfortable ache in her heart Nadia kept walking to his car and pretended she hadn’t heard. She couldn’t face another forty minutes of silence on the drive back so she went for light, safe conversation.

‘So tell me about your work. All those billable hours, huh? Are you prosecution or defence?’

Ethan gripped the steering wheel even tighter. Oh, hell, he really hadn’t told her anything—and he grimaced about telling her now. He didn’t do the save-the-innocent barrister act, and if she really was all about ‘making a difference’ then she was going to be disappointed. Still, he was used to that—right? His dad had never got over his decision to go corporate rather than chasing after the Queen’s Counsel dream, despite the fact Ethan earned more now than he’d ever have done in chambers. But for his father it was all about public prestige. For Nadia it was that higher purpose thing—which meant she was going to be even more sceptical than his dad.

‘I’m not a barrister,’ he said heavily. ‘I don’t go to court and present arguments to a judge.’

‘Oh? What do you do, then?’

‘Corporate.’ His discomfort was stupid, because his job was unbelievably competitive. ‘I’m an aviation specialist.’

She frowned. ‘Aviation?’

Yeah, there wasn’t that much adulation in that. ‘As in big deals between big airlines and aircraft manufacturers. Leasing and financing and stuff.’

‘And that’s law?’

‘They need legal advice to do the deals—so, yes.’

‘Oh.’

‘It’s very interesting.’ Hell, did he sound desperate for approval or what? But he loved it. Wouldn’t work crazy hours if he didn’t.

‘I’m sure.’

‘It’s more interesting than HR.’ Totally defensive now.

‘Well, that wouldn’t be hard.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘So, does that mean you get to go for rides in flash private planes?’

‘The question everyone asks.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I expected more from you. Sometimes—not often.’

‘But you like planes?’

‘Always have. I like flying.’

‘Can you?’

‘I have my pilot’s licence.’ And he skydived. He liked the rush of that.

‘Oh, that’s cool. So you really love it?’

‘Yeah, I do.’ Finally the grin broke out of him. ‘Going to work is fun. But it’s not what people think of when you tell them you’re a lawyer.’

‘Who cares?’ she said. ‘You work in a field you love. You’re lucky. Your parents must be proud.’

Ethan sent her a sideways look, but she was smiling ahead at the road, all innocence. Yeah, right. She was fishing, but he wasn’t biting. Because, no, his father wasn’t proud. ‘You mean you don’t love HR? But you get to make people miserable, right?’ He teased his way out of answering.

‘Very funny.’

‘So why did you get into it if it’s not floating your boat?’

‘I wanted a job in a big firm. All big firms need HR people.’

‘Why big?’

‘The usual reasons—money, security.’

‘Yeah, but bigger isn’t always better.’

‘You’re wrong.’ She shook her head. ‘It was nice meeting your family.’

Nice—great. That awful word again. And she couldn’t possibly think it had been nice. She was back to fishing. Apprehension slithered down his spine. Inviting her into his life this way had been crazy. How was she going to report back to her web-witches? He figured he’d be in for a caning. But had she seen his family’s vulnerability? Did she even care? What about Bella? Those moments by the piano that had filled him with pleasure before now made him wince. Did Nadia think he was superficial enough to have orchestrated that? She was so untrusting she probably did. He wanted to skip this as the third date. They should do something else. But that would mean seeing her again—and that seemed like a really dumb idea. This wasn’t the game it had been, and it sure as hell wasn’t uncomplicated.

As he pulled up outside her flat he knew he had to address it. ‘Please don’t write about today in your blog.’ Annoyed at how husky he sounded, he spoke faster, more harshly. ‘I don’t want all that out there. Not Dad. And I didn’t set that up with Bella to prove anything to you. Can’t—?’

‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ she interrupted, her voice shrill. ‘Do you really think I’d mention any of that?’

He was silent.

In the confines of his car her anger reverberated. Her outrage. Her hurt.

‘What kind of a person do you think I am?’ she asked, totally wounded. ‘You haven’t gotten to know me at all, have you? You haven’t listened to anything I’ve told you.’ She leapt out of the car and ran up her path.

Ethan stared after her—hating himself even more than he had that moment almost two hours ago. He’d felt sick when he’d seen his father talking to Nadia. He’d seen the look. It was how he looked at her—as if she was some delicate morsel to be devoured. Nadia had been wrong. Or maybe she’d been right and it was just that Ethan was so paranoid about his father he couldn’t see straight.

Either way it didn’t matter, because the revelation was still clear and still true. He’d always said he was nothing like his father, but Nadia had said differently. And he was the same—every bit the same selfish, insensitive jerk. He’d just proved it.

He swore and leaped out of the car.

‘Nadia!’ He grabbed the front door handle so she couldn’t open it and get away from him. But she didn’t turn around. A slender, silver fairy-woman stood in front of him—one he wanted to pull back against him and keep her there. He ached for the hot, sweet relief to be found with her.

He bent his head, lightly brushing his lips in her hair, hoping she couldn’t feel it as he breathed in her scent. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘It does.’ He felt her trembling.

‘I don’t blame you for thinking I’d do that,’ she said softly.

But he should have known she wouldn’t. Deep down he had. Nadia, with her big green eyes and her sweetheart-shaped face, wasn’t in this world to hurt people. Now Nadia herself was hurt—and it was his fault.

‘I wish you’d talk to me,’ she whispered.

‘And tell you what?’ His blood chilled. There wasn’t anything to say. ‘Don’t think you know anything more about me just because you’ve met my messed-up family.’

‘But wasn’t that the point?’

He clenched his teeth. The original point had been to make her uncomfortable. Only it had backfired completely, and he was the one feeling tortured and embarrassed and angry.

‘How you act around them tells me a lot.’ Her voice wobbled.

He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t.’ She knew nothing—because he’d only realised a couple of things himself this very moment. He gripped the door handle even harder, physically fighting the urge to take her into his arms.

‘You’re not the carefree guy you make yourself out to be. You’re more sensitive than that. You care about them.’

It was so ironic that now she thought she was seeing some good in him, when he was realising just how little there actually was. ‘You don’t know anything, Nadia.’

She’d been right. He did hide what was beneath his surface—because underneath lurked the same kind of indifference that his father had. Indifference to relationships, commitment, marriage. Sure, he had passion for his career, but none for the burden of family and responsibility—and certainly not a woman’s happiness. So he wasn’t going to get into a relationship and hurt someone over and over, like his father had his mother. And Nadia was a relationship girl through and through—romantic, idealistic, a little bruised and misguided, but soft-hearted still for all that. And, for whatever warped reason, those qualities were endearing her all the more to him. But it was dangerous for her, because he would never be the right guy. Which meant he had to walk now.

He breathed deep to try and push out the pain cutting into his heart, but it was a mistake. Her scent curled tighter around him. Her proximity was tantalising—her soft, warm limbs and passion were so close. She didn’t move. Her head was bent as she waited in silence—for what? The inevitable? He had to rebel against that.

He released the handle and pushed the door so it swung open. She stepped inside. Not following her was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life.

It was so unfair that doing something right felt so wrong.