The Farmer's Perfect Match

by Marilyn Forsyth

  ‘He made it clear I wasn’t wanted. My only use was as a punching bag. Any little thing set off one of his rampages.’ Embarrassed by the power of his emotions, he pulled himself up straight in the chair, arming himself inside against any unmanly display of grief over all the memories roaring back. ‘I was scared to death of him. Four years old and terrified of what each day might bring … that was my life.’

  ‘What did that man do to you?’ Evie’s whisper was barely audible.

  ‘Different things, depending on his mood. All of them cruel. Locked in my room for days at a time with nothing to eat or drink when he went on a bender. Denied food for making a sound out of turn.’ A flash of vivid memory stopped him for a second. ‘I remember hugging a packet of biscuits he’d thrown at me for a meal. Gripping it like it was something I couldn’t bear to be parted from, the same way any normal kid’d cling to their teddy bear.’

  It was the clarity of the smallest details that made the sordid memories suddenly more real than he could stand. Tears rose, threatening to shame him. His throat ached with the effort of holding them back.

  ‘The violence—’ His eyes squeezed shut.

  He forced them open, calling on the inner strength that had always saved him from falling apart. And he pushed on, knowing if he didn’t tell her everything now, he never would. ‘The physical violence was the hardest to take. Beatings, frenzied kicking attacks, bruises and cuts that never got the chance to heal because the punishments were repeated so often.’

  Her grip on his hand had become vice-like. Ridiculously, at this moment it had to be the most comforting touch he’d ever felt in his life. But he still couldn’t look at her.

  Now he’d started, the floodgate opened. ‘I was nothing but skin and bones when I caught pneumonia. It wasn’t my father who took me to hospital, it was the neighbours. That’s when they found the fractured ribs that hadn’t mended properly. The scars around my thighs from the belt buckle. The … cigarette burns on my back and chest.’

  ‘No!’ The cry, torn straight from her throat, was terrible to hear.

  He could feel her shaking. His arms ached to pull her close, to try to soothe her misery but, imprisoned by his own anguish, he couldn’t take that step until he revealed the worst.

  ‘I was removed from his care after that. I should’ve been grateful.’ He hesitated, heart pumping so loud in his throat Evie had to hear it. ‘But the saddest, most pathetic thing is, I didn’t want to go. I wanted to be back with my father. See, it was my fault, what he’d done to me. I needed to make it up to him. Give him another chance to show he really did love me.’

  ‘Oh, Adam.’

  Shame twisted his stomach. He was afraid to look at her. Didn’t want to see the same pity in her lovely eyes he could hear in her voice.

  His voice, a harsh grinding in his throat, scarcely seemed to belong to him as words scrambled over each other in their urgency to escape. ‘I hated being sent to live with people I didn’t know. Parents are supposed to keep their children safe, not strangers. I took my anger out on every family kind enough to take me in, deliberately disobedient so no one would keep me, thinking I’d have to get sent home … but I just got moved on to another family.’

  It took an effort to continue. ‘All those people did their best, but when it became obvious I was never going back home, I kind of withdrew inside myself. If I could hide my past, hide the shame of causing my father to do what he’d done to me, I could maybe be a normal kid.’

  He swallowed around the shameful tears threatening his hard-won composure. ‘I didn’t want to lie. I’d learned the hard way never to do that. The only way to cope, I guess, seemed to be to make myself believe the memories were actually nightmares.’

  His chest hurt. Too many years of pain and anger and self-loathing tore at his insides. ‘I didn’t want to be thought of as a problem to be fixed. In the end, I just wanted someone—anyone—to believe I was worthy of being loved.’

  ‘May and Larry—’

  He cut her off. ‘They saved me. I owe them more than I could ever repay. But I’ve never spoken about what I lived through, not even to them.’

  ‘Why now?’ she asked, after a long silence.

  He wanted to say, because of you. Because I love you.

  But this level of intimacy was frightening. Just the thought of speaking those words out loud was enough to stop him cold. He’d said ‘I love you’ to his real father, and heard those words back. But always after a beating, when his father had sobered. To connect Evie with that man in any way, even if only in his mind, would lead to more grief than he could take. As it was, he could barely breathe with the effort of holding back the hateful tears that would reveal the immensity of his weakness.

  ‘I’m gut-tired of it all. I’ve spent too long trying never to think about it, let alone talk about it. I’m sick to death of worrying about people thinking less of me once they find out the truth.’ He raised his head finally to look at her. ‘And I don’t even have the words to tell you how afraid I am of what you must be thinking of me right now.’

  In the silver light of the rising moon, Evie’s skin shimmered with the luminescence of a pearl. Teardrops quivered on the rims of her lovely eyes. She looked so beautiful. So desirable.

  So totally beyond his reach.

  He sucked in a deep breath. ‘Except to say, it can’t be any worse than what I think of myself.’

  * * *

  His dark-brown eyes drowning in sadness, broad shoulders slumped in despair, Adam’s pain was palpable. And it was something Evie could barely begin to understand. Her early childhood memories were of fun and laughter. The horror of what Adam had endured rose in her throat, almost choking her, and she felt afraid for him, afraid for all the frightening feelings he’d carried silently inside for so many years.

  Every seam inside ripping apart, she swallowed past the ache searing her throat, trying desperately to maintain some semblance of professional calm. ‘You can’t let yourself think that way, Adam. Children are not responsible for the sins committed against them.’

  ‘I know that. Somewhere. Deep in here.’ His hand went to his chest. ‘So what’s so wrong with me that I wanted to go back to my father?’ Two bleak, almost-black eyes searched her face. ‘Why did I want so much for him to say he loved me and mean it?’

  The poignant plea sent a shooting pain through her heart, and in that instant too many things became clear. She understood his helplessness because she felt it too. The irony of Adam asking her for an answer to such a question wasn’t lost on her. Hadn’t she deliberately chosen the career which had led her here, just to win her father’s love?

  It hurt to speak the truth aloud but it needed saying. ‘I’ve spent most of my life trying to win my dad’s approval when I should have been trying to be my own person. You want pathetic? Take me.’

  His face contorted. ‘Pathetic? You see me that way too?’

  ‘No! I—’

  ‘I can’t blame you.’ He sounded broken inside.

  Now that she’d had a glimpse of the terrified little boy within him, now that she could see exactly what had made Adam the way he was, her initial seething outrage at what his father had done to him was replaced with an overwhelming need to protect.

  ‘I’m sorry for—’

  ‘Don’t! I don’t want your pity.’ Pain roughened his voice to a gravelly depth she’d never heard before.

  The rawness of his emotions, the weight of his need, finally brought her undone. The tears trembling at the edge of her eyes spilled down her cheeks. She let them fall, not bothering to wipe them away, and through her blurred vision she watched as the drops that had been hovering finally trickled from Adam’s eyes.

  This was a side of himself he’d managed to hide from everyone, and for all the strength Evie admired in him it was his vulnerability that drew her now. For him to risk letting his shield down with her was monumental.

  The force of feelings she’d tried so hard to deny now reared up. Po
werful. Uncontrollable. If there was ever a time for total honesty, this was it.

  Not only with him. With herself.

  ‘I wanted to say, I’m sorry it would even cross your mind I’d think of you as pathetic. I don’t pity you, Adam. I have nothing but respect for your strength.’

  A fleeting thought for uncertain consequences triggered a staccato beat in her chest. She anchored herself against the flight response by grabbing the arm of the chair. Her mouth went dry. Words she knew she shouldn’t say trembled on her lips.

  ‘My feelings—’ Her voice broke. ‘My feelings for you have nothing to do with where or what you came from or what happened to you as a child. They have everything to do with who you are now. You. You are enough.’

  Across the short distance between them his eyes locked on hers. Then his face crumpled and a soft cry, like that of a wounded animal, burst from his lips.

  It was that sound which shot to pieces any sense of self-preservation she may have had left. She knew what she was about to do was wrong. Knew it breached every protocol associated with her job. Knew there’d be no going back from here.

  But all that mattered was to lessen his pain.

  She stood and moved towards him. He rose slowly from his chair, his gaze intent on her face. Ignoring the warm drops sliding down her cheeks, she stared into his dark eyes for long seconds. His eyes brimmed too.

  She was afraid to touch him, but at the same time desperate for the physical contact.

  Then up came his arms, guiding her towards his broad chest and she melted into him, whispering his name. Clenched to his body as if she was some fragile treasure he needed to guard at all costs, totally surrounded by him, she felt warm and safe.

  And at peace. In his arms was the right place to be.

  Her own arms reached around his hard body and she buried the side of her face against his shirt, clinging to him. Feeling the beat of his heart reverberating through her. Breathing in the scent of him, soapy fresh from the shower. She hugged him fiercely back, wanting never to let go, hoping he sensed that same feeling of protection from her. She could have lived in that moment forever.

  Until he pressed his lips to her forehead. Held them there.

  The thrill of his lips on her skin sent a bolt through her entire body. Electricity charged the air, crackling and sparking with all the energy of the aurora borealis. Surely he felt it too?

  Drawing her head back, she looked up. Their faces were only inches apart. His eyes swept hers, moving hungrily back and forth, before coming to linger on her lips. The yearning to kiss him, to lose herself in the taste of that soft mouth, shocked her with its intensity.

  How on earth had she managed to keep him at a distance for so long?

  He smoothed her hair back from her face. In a heightened state of consciousness it became the most intimate of gestures. Her eyes slid closed. When his lips tickled her neck, she sucked in a sharp breath. A body-trembling quiver followed at the touch of his trembling fingers tracing her lips.

  ‘You—’ His throat worked as he cleared it. ‘You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted this since the moment I first saw you.’

  She opened her eyes to his beautiful face smiling down at her. ‘No more than I’ve been wanting you.’

  ‘Really?’

  At the achingly sweet look of wonder on his face, a rush of tenderness swamped her. She couldn’t speak. Had to offer him the answer with her eyes. His shakily returned grin lit up the room.

  If her life depended on it, she could not have resisted him in that moment.

  Gently, so very gently, he cupped her face in his large hands, drawing her close. His breath was warm on her skin. Then slowly, he lowered his mouth to meet hers. His lips were soft, capturing hers so lightly she could barely feel them, only taste the slight saltiness of tears. Her own or his, she had no way of knowing. And she didn’t care.

  A flutter rose up from under her ribcage. Her breath caught in her throat. Every place their bodies touched tingled. A tremor, beginning in her toes, shivered its way through her, leaving her knees to wilt in its wake.

  As if sensing her sudden weakness, Adam encircled her waist and pulled her to him again, even as the kiss continued, long and slow and gentle. She sank into him, feeling the strong beat of his heart thrumming through her like the bass at full volume on a stereo. Instinctively, her hands wound about his neck, then up higher still, where her fingers buried themselves in his hair. It felt gloriously soft and thick and she couldn’t get enough of touching him.

  Being starved of a man’s touch for so long, even if it was by her own choice, had at times resulted in dreams of passionate encounters with faceless lovers. But even in the wildest of those dreams she had never been kissed like this. This reality was exhilaration beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

  A sigh of helpless pleasure escaped her lips.

  The kiss deepened. Still soft, but now more insistent, the gentle mingling and tasting increasingly replaced by the crushing and savouring of lips and tongue. The exquisite tango of their tongues sent a delectable spark flickering along every nerve, intensifying sensation until she thought her heart might burst with the pure joy of it.

  She dissolved into him as each successive kiss grew deeper still, and hungrier, his breath now coming in ragged gasps. Her body surged in its quest for more of his touch and all sense of time and place and propriety disappeared in a staggering physical urge to lose herself to the moment. To lose herself to this man.

  The one man she should never have fallen for.

  She broke away, gasping, as the thought struck home.

  ‘I’m—I’m sorry.’ Adam’s hands flew to the back of his neck as he stumbled away from her. ‘I shouldn’t have … but you’re … and I can’t …’ His voice trailed off.

  The anguish in it knifed through her. Her need to take away the pain, the unexpected jolt of loss at the withdrawal of his arms, helped her realise the truth: that stain of guilt on his face was her doing.

  And in that instant she vowed she would do anything in her power to prevent him from having to feel shame again. Ever.

  Because she loved him. Loved him unreservedly. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man: honest, decent, kind, smart. Not to mention so damn sexy she could hardly bear to keep her hands off him now she’d finally had a taste of what he had to offer.

  She wanted more. And she wanted it now.

  ‘Don’t apologise, Adam. That felt too bloody fantastic to be sorry for.’

  His disbelieving stare was devastating in its naked hunger for her. It made her feel wanted and elated and excited.

  Drawn to the heat he was giving off, she took a step towards him. ‘I’ve never had as much pleasure from a kiss as you just gave me.’ The deep breath she took did nothing to quell the quivering inside. ‘And I want more.’

  He continued to stare at her, uncertainty in every line on his face. She moved another step closer. She couldn’t help herself; the desire to be touched by him again was all-consuming. It had been a year since she’d let anyone get this close—physically or emotionally—and the tension of longing to be in his arms again was so strong it hurt.

  Giving up any pretence of dignity, she whispered, low and throaty, ‘Please, hold me?’

  The look on his face now was one of hesitant wonder, like she was something out of a dream and he was afraid to hope she could be real. The pull between them drew their bodies closer still.

  A growing thrill of anticipation left no room for self-doubt. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t want to. You must know by now, I can always tell when you’re holding something back.’

  The tattered smile he rewarded her with made her heart dance in her chest.

  ‘The time’s long past since I thought I could hide anything from you, Evie.’

  A hand came up to tenderly brush her hair back from her face. She felt the tremble as he touched her. The intimacy was enough to send tremors up and down her spine. She was breathing too fast. His h
and slid to the back of her neck to gently guide her face closer to his. They stared into each other’s eyes for long seconds, her heartbeat thundering as loud as storm-waves crashing on shore.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said finally, his mouth only inches away, his voice hoarse. ‘And yes, I want to hold you. So much I … ache.’ He pressed his free hand to his heart. ‘In here.’

  ‘Then do it,’ she demanded, past caring about anything but the deeply human need to touch, and be touched, by someone who cares. ‘Do—’

  His fingertips covered her lips, silencing her words. Then he crushed her to his hard chest, tightly, desperately, as if he never wanted to let her go. The thin cotton of her dress was no hindrance to the feel of his strong fingers as she strained against him.

  Her fingers tangled themselves in the thick, dark curls at the nape of his neck; his mouth moved down to gently nip and suck at the sensitive flesh at the base of hers. Sharp electric tingles spiralled through her, infusing her entire body with an unquenchable yearning for the exquisite torture never to end.

  But it did end. Abruptly.

  He pulled away, at the same time pushing her from him with strong arms. They stared at each other for long seconds. If she had any doubts, the desire in his eyes told her all she needed to know. An unstoppable force was in motion.

  What was happening between them was inevitable. Had been since the moment they met.

  Without a word, Adam swept her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. Then they were on the bed, two bodies melting into one another, fused by the heat of their passion.

  But mixed with that passion was a feeling of unutterable tenderness so poignant she could almost have cried. And as she sank to that place where nothing existed but touching and feeling, never in her life had she felt such a sense of safety.

  * * *

  Later, as they clung together in the dark amid the tangled sheets, bare warm skin on bare warm skin, Evie nestled further under Adam’s shoulder and listened to the strong, solid beat of his heart. His right leg lay possessively over her naked thigh, his manly musky scent filled every pore and her lips still tasted of him.