Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set

by Barbara Wallace

  She stilled, before reaching out to trace it with one finger. ‘Mother’s locket...’

  ‘That belongs to you.’

  Exactly! What on earth was Barbara doing with it? It must be worth a fortune.

  ‘Although I have no real memory of her, all my life I’ve felt overshadowed by my mother.’ She stared at the locket with pursed lips. ‘My father set that charity up in her name and then expected me to devote my life to running it. He turned my mother into a kind of saint, and there’s not a living, breathing woman who can compete with that. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to find that Barbara has felt overshadowed by the first Mrs Fielding too.’ She scooped up the locket with its heavy ornate gold chain and put it in Lawrence’s hand. ‘Put it back. I have so much. I don’t need this.’

  Lawrence stared down at the locket, his face grim. ‘There are some rather interesting items in that deposit box...’

  Caro shook her head. ‘Barbara is entitled to her secrets. I have no right to them. I have no desire to pry further than I already have.’ She moved to where Lawrence sat and pressed a kiss to his brow. ‘I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done. May I come to dinner some time soon?’

  ‘You know you’re welcome any time. Your Auntie Kate would love to see you.’

  He rose and kissed both Caro’s cheeks. As he did so he held his business card out to Jack behind Caro’s back. Jack pocketed it before Caro could notice the exchange.

  ‘It was nice to meet you, sir.’

  ‘I’m reserving my judgment,’ Lawrence said in reply.

  Jack and Caro walked back to the car without exchanging a single word. As soon as they reached it, however, Caro started hopping from one foot to the other. Her eyes glittered and her cheeks flushed pink with what he guessed was an excess of adrenaline.

  ‘That was...’ She reached out as if to pluck a word from the air.

  ‘A close call,’ he finished for her. ‘If Lawrence Gardner didn’t hold you in such high esteem we’d be toast by now.’

  She grabbed his arm, all but dancing. ‘Jack, I can’t remember the last time I felt so...alive!’

  ‘And you call me an adrenaline junkie.’

  He kept his voice teasing, but all the while he was aware of her grip on his arm and the warm smile dancing across her lips. An ache as big as the Great Barrier Reef opened up inside him. His every molecule screamed at him to kiss her.

  ‘I could get addicted to that.’

  Addiction? He stared down at her luscious mouth. Yes, he understood addiction. He thought he might explode into a thousand tiny pieces if he didn’t kiss her.

  You can’t kiss her. You promised.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘What for?’ he croaked.

  ‘For believing I could pull that off.’

  Tenderness rose up through him, warring with his desire—and they entwined, forming something stronger and brighter. ‘You were brilliant.’ It was nothing less than the truth. ‘You saved the day.’

  ‘I can’t remember the last time I had to think quickly on my feet like that. For a split second I didn’t know whether to lie or to confide in Lawrence.’

  ‘You followed your instincts and they didn’t let you down.’

  She reached up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. He bit back a groan.

  ‘I...’

  Her voice trailed off at whatever she saw in his face. Her eyes met his and darkened. Her gaze lowered to his lips and her own lips parted ever so slightly—as if she were parched, or as if she couldn’t quite catch her breath. Wind roared in his ears. She wanted him. With the same desperate hunger that ravaged him. He’d promised not to kiss her, but...

  He moved in closer, traced a finger down the soft flesh of her cheek. Her breath hitched. Her eyes never left his.

  ‘You...’ She hiccupped again as his finger moved down the line of her throat. ‘You promised,’ she whispered.

  ‘I promised not to kiss you,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t recall promising not to touch you. You can tell me to stop any time you want to and I will.’

  Her lips parted, but no words emerged.

  A surge of something hot and primal pulsed through him. ‘And I don’t recall you promising not to kiss me.’

  Her breath hitched again. Maintaining eye contact, he took her hand and raised it to his lips, nibbled on the end of her ring finger and then her middle finger, drawing it ever so slightly into the warmth of his mouth.

  ‘You didn’t promise you wouldn’t kiss me,’ he whispered again. ‘And I want you to kiss me, Caro. I want that more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.’

  A shiver shook through her. He went hard in an instant.

  ‘I didn’t promise that I wouldn’t put my arms around you...’

  Very slowly she shook her head. ‘No, you didn’t promise that.’

  Very slowly he backed up until he was leaning against the car. He drew her towards him to stand between his legs—not quite touching, but their heat swirled and merged and another shiver shook through her.

  He kissed the tips of each of the fingers of the hand he still held. ‘I didn’t promise not to place your arm around my neck...’

  He put her hand on his shoulder, snaking an arm about her waist and pulling her closer. The feel of her in his arms was familiar and strange both at the same time. Her other hand slid about his neck too.

  ‘Jack...’ she whispered.

  He moved his face to within millimetres of hers. ‘I didn’t promise not to ask you to kiss me...’

  ‘Oh...’

  The word was nothing more than a breath and it whispered across his lips, drawing everything inside of him tight. Her hands tightened about his neck.

  ‘I’m not asking, Caro,’ he groaned. ‘I’m begging. Please kiss me. I—’

  She leant forward and pressed her lips to his.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE MOMENT HER lips touched his Jack had to fight the torrent of need that roared through him. It took all his strength to let her take the lead and not crush her to him. He didn’t want to overwhelm her with his intensity. He didn’t want to frighten her with his hunger. He wanted her to remain right here, where she belonged—in his arms.

  His hunger was all about him and he wanted this kiss to be all about her—he wanted to give her everything she needed, everything she craved. He wanted their kiss to tempt, to tease and to tantalise her on every level.

  He didn’t want the kiss ever to stop. He wanted it to whet her appetite—for him, for them. He wanted it to challenge her belief that they couldn’t be fixed.

  She pressed in closer and a groan broke from him. ‘You’re killing me.’

  She laughed, her breath feathering across his lips. ‘And here I was thinking I was kissing you.’

  He grazed his teeth across the sensitive skin of her neck, just below her ear, and she melted against him. ‘Jack...’ His name left her on a whisper, filling him with vigour and a lethal patience.

  He kissed a slow path down her throat, revelling in the taste of her and the satin glide of her skin. He moulded her to him—one hand in the small of her back, the other between her shoulderblades. Slipping his lower hand beneath the soft material of her shirt, he lightly raked his fingernails across her bare skin as he kissed his way up the other side of her throat.

  She gasped and shivered and pressed herself all the more firmly against him. He wanted to give her so much pleasure it would blot everything else from her mind—the pain he’d caused her, the mistakes they’d made five years ago.

  He wanted her filled—body and soul—with the promise of their future. A future he had utter faith in.

  He moved his lips back to hers, pressing light kisses at the corners of her mouth, wanting to drive her wild with wanting. Her hands slid up through his hair to hold him still, and his heart pounded until he thought it might burst. She slanted her mouth over his—all open-mouthed heat and wild need—and Jack couldn’t contain himself any longer. It was like coming home.
It was like being welcomed home.

  Fireworks of celebration exploded behind the backs of his eyes. He crushed her to him, wanting the line between where she started and he ended to blur until they became one.

  * * *

  Caro wrapped her arms around Jack’s neck and held on for dear life as the maelstrom of desire they’d always ignited in each other rocked through her, lifting her off her feet and hurtling her along with a speed that would have stolen her breath if Jack hadn’t already done so. It should frighten her, except she knew Jack would keep her safe. He would never let any harm come to her.

  To feel him, to taste him again, alternately soothed and electrified her. It was so familiar, and yet so dark and dangerous. An utter contradiction. Kissing Jack was like every risk she’d ever taken rolled into one—and it was like every warm blanket she’d ever pulled about herself. Kissing Jack was like being flung out of her mind and body at the same time. It was heady and wild.

  And it was frightening too—what if she never found herself again? She didn’t want to lose herself. Not completely. Not for all time. If she made love with Jack now where would she ever find the strength to be true to herself? How would she be able to resist all that he would ask of her? She would try to become everything he wanted—needed—and in the process she’d become something neither one of them would recognise.

  And then she would have nothing.

  Half sobbing, she reefed herself out of his arms. Backing up a couple of steps, she leaned against the car to try and catch her breath. Jack closed his eyes and bent at the waist to draw in great lungfuls of air. She forced her gaze away from him, tried to stamp down on the regrets rising through her, tried to ignore her body’s insistent demand for release.

  An hour of heaven was not worth another five years of hell.

  She started when two arms slammed either side of her on the car, trapping her within their circle. ‘You are the most divine woman I have ever met.’

  And he was the most divine man she’d ever met—but she wasn’t going to say that out loud. She hitched up her chin. ‘That could be a sign that you need to get out more.’

  He stared down at her, and she didn’t know what he saw in her face, but it left her feeling naked.

  One corner of his mouth hooked up. ‘You never were a pushover.’

  Could’ve fooled her.

  ‘We need to talk, Caro.’

  ‘About the fact we’re still attracted to each other?’ What was the point of that?

  ‘We could start there.’

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t see there’s much we can do about it.’

  ‘Really?’ he drawled, cocking a suggestive eyebrow.

  She found it hard to stamp down on the laugh that rose through her. In the back of her mind the salsa teacher’s voice sounded: You will flirt!

  ‘Not going to happen, Jack.’

  He raised that eyebrow higher.

  She shook her head, but it was harder than it should have been. ‘An hour of pleasure is not worth a lifetime of regrets.’

  He leaned in closer. ‘I can make it last longer than an hour.’

  God forgive her, but her breath hitched at the promise lacing his words.

  ‘Do you really think we’d have been able to stop if we’d been at your flat or in my hotel room rather than in a car park?’

  She didn’t know the answer to that, and she had no intention of finding out. ‘I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad this happened in a public place.’

  He reached out and brushed his thumb across her over-sensitised lips. It was all she could do not to moan and touch her tongue to him.

  ‘You still want me.’

  ‘With every atom of my body,’ she agreed.

  His eyes darkened and his breathing grew shallow at her admission.

  ‘But I am not a mindless body controlled by impulse. I possess a brain, and that brain is telling me not to just walk away from this, Jack, but to run.’

  ‘You’re frightened.’

  ‘You should be too! You didn’t emerge unscathed the last time we did this.’

  He made as if to cradle her cheek, but she snapped upright.

  ‘You’re crowding me.’

  He immediately dropped his arms and moved back. She paced the length of the car before coming back to stand in front of him.

  ‘We have no future together, and I cannot do some kind of final fling with you. I’ve worked too hard to get over you to risk undoing all my hard work now.’

  He stared at her for a long moment. ‘I beg to differ with you on one point, Caro.’

  She folded her arms and tapped a foot. ‘Really?’

  ‘I believe we could have a future together.’

  Her arms slackened. Her jaw dropped. ‘You can’t be serious.’

  His eyes grew keen and bright. ‘I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.’

  Fear, raw and primal, scrabbled through her, drawing her chest tight.

  ‘What makes you—’ he leant down so they were eye to eye ‘—so certain we don’t have a future?’

  ‘Our past!’ she snapped. He was being ridiculous! Nostalgia was making him sentimental.

  ‘We can learn from the mistakes of our past.’

  ‘Or we could simply repeat them.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m smarter now. I know what it is I really want—and that’s you.’

  No! She wouldn’t believe him. She couldn’t. ‘What about children.’

  ‘I don’t care if we have children or not.’

  How long would that last? ‘I don’t believe you.’ This time she moved in close, invading his personal space. ‘I think you want children as much as you ever did.’

  His eyes flashed. ‘I want you more.’

  She stepped back. She wouldn’t be able to live with him making that kind of sacrifice.

  ‘Does nothing of what I say make any impact on you?’ he demanded, his voice ragged.

  She swung away and closed her eyes against the pain cramping her chest. ‘Jack, for the last five years you’ve held me solely responsible for the breakdown of our marriage. In the last eight days you’ve been confronted with your own culpability. I understand your sense of guilt, I understand your desire to make amends and to try and put things right, but...’ She turned, gripping the tops of her arms tightly. ‘We cannot be put to rights. There’s no longer any “we” that can be salvaged.’

  Her words seemed to beat at him like blows and each of them left her feeling bruised and shaken.

  He seized her by the shoulders, his face pale though his eyes blazed. ‘I love you, Caro. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’

  Yearning yawned through her. To have...

  No!

  She hardened her heart and shook her head. ‘I don’t wish to be cruel, Jack, but no, I’m afraid it doesn’t.’

  Turning grey, he let her go, his shoulders slumping as if she’d just run him through with a sword. She had to bite her lip to stifle the cry that rose up through her.

  Why had he ever come back to London?

  Why hadn’t he simply sent the divorce papers through the post?

  She’d rather he’d continued to blame her—hate her—than put him through this kind of emotional torment.

  She had to leave before she did something stupid, like hurl herself into his arms and say sorry, tell him she loved him too. Love wasn’t enough. It never had been. It was better they face that now than another twelve months down the track.

  She pulled herself up to her full height. ‘I’ll see myself home.’

  He stiffened. ‘Get in the car, Caro. I will take you home.’

  Her hands clenched. ‘I am not a child who can be ordered about or cajoled. I have a free will, which I’m choosing to assert now. I would much prefer to see myself home.’ She tried to pull in a steadying breath. ‘But thank you for the offer.’

  He stared at her, shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Right.’

  She moistened her
lips. ‘I think it’d be for the best if we didn’t see each other again.’

  His head jerked up. ‘The snuffbox—’

  ‘Is lost forever, I expect.’

  ‘I haven’t given up hope.’

  She had.

  ‘At nine o’clock on Friday morning—’ the day after tomorrow ‘—I’ll be informing my boss that I’ve lost the snuffbox and I will tender my resignation.’

  The pulse in his jaw jumped, but he didn’t say a word.

  ‘I’d like you to send me a bill for your time and expenses, though I suspect you won’t.’

  ‘You suspect right.’

  ‘I’ll sign the divorce papers and have them sent to your lawyer.’

  She couldn’t say any more. Her throat ached too much from saying the word divorce—it lodged there like a block of solid wood, its hard edges pressing into her with such ferocity it made her vision blur.

  She spun away and made for the exit. ‘Goodbye, Jack.’

  The letters on the car park exit sign blurred, but she kept her focus trained on their neon glow rather than the throb at her temples or the pain pressing down on her chest. It took all her strength to remain upright and to place one foot in front of the other.

  This was for the best. She could never trust Jack again. She could never be certain that the next time she failed to measure up to his expectations he wouldn’t just walk away again. And she wouldn’t be able to bear that.

  She hadn’t made him happy five years ago. Oh, they’d had great sex—there was no denying that—but a solid marriage needed stronger glue than great sex. She and Jack...they didn’t have that glue.

  The sunshine made her blink when she finally arrived outside. She scowled at it. How dared the day be so...summery?

  She caught the tube home. Please, please, please, don’t be one of those people who cry on the train. She couldn’t bear the mortification of that.

  She might not be able to turn the pain off, but she could try and corral her thoughts. She recited the alphabet silently until she reached her stop. On wooden legs, she turned in at Jean-Pierre’s bakery.

  He spun with a smile that faded when he took in her expression. ‘Ma cherie.’ He shook his head. ‘Not a good day?’