Divided Hearts

by Susan R. Hughes

  All of me would like to. But that wasn’t the point. “It doesn’t feel right, Simon. Here I am in your arms, and here I’ve been staying at your house, meeting your family, making plans with you for Hannah’s future, while Jenna’s still unaware we’ve even met—”

  “That isn’t your fault, or mine,” Simon reminded her fervently. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Knowing he was right didn’t help to ease the sense of betrayal that gripped Faye’s belly. “I don’t want to do anything that could hurt either of them.”

  “I wouldn’t either. But do you ever think of your own desires, Faye? What is it you want?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied meekly. He’d asked her the same question that afternoon on the boat, and the answer she’d given at the time seemed less satisfactory now.

  This time he pressed her further. “You want me, don’t you? Is it so hard for you to admit?”

  She did want him. His shoulders had felt taut and powerful under her palms, and she longed to tear the buttons from his pajamas and slide the fabric away to explore the smooth, warm expanse concealed beneath. She would study with her hands and lips every arc of muscle and hot skin, and feel the quickening pulse of his veins and the thump of his heart reverberating through her own flesh.

  “What I want scares the hell out of me,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Faye—”

  A wail from downstairs made them both jump. Starting as a low moan, it quickly soared in pitch and desperation. Faye recognized it as a cry that meant Hannah had woken and needed reassurance in order to go back to sleep.

  “I’d better go see what’s wrong,” Faye said, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in.

  “I suppose so.” Reluctantly Simon loosened his hold and she slipped out of his grasp and got to her feet.

  Faye glanced back at him only briefly, before hurrying toward the stairs, her legs wobbling under her.

  * * *

  She found Simon standing in the kitchen, one had placed casually in the pocket of his robe, the other holding a mug of coffee.

  Faye stopped in the doorway, offering an uneasy smile. Lord, what would she say to him now?

  “Morning,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Sleep well?”

  “Yes, thanks.” It was a perfunctory answer, and not entirely true. “Simon, about last night. I—”

  “Morning, Faye,” chimed a cheerful voice behind her.

  Faye turned in surprise. “Mary, you’re back already.”

  “I’m an early riser.” The older woman strode past her on her way to the stove. “Thought I’d join you for breakfast. Is Hannah still sleeping?”

  Faye nodded. “She must be worn out from all the fun she’s been having here.”

  “Must be. I’m making pancakes,” Mary said, lifting a frying pan out of the cupboard.

  “Great, I’m starving.” This was true; Faye could feel her stomach gnawing with hunger. But she wanted to get dressed first, and was about to excuse herself when Simon handed her a cup of coffee. She nodded her thanks, taking a quick sip to appease her impatient stomach. She could see below the hem of his robe that he was still wearing his pajama bottoms—but on top, where the collar of his robe draped open, revealing a triangle of smooth golden skin, it was obvious he wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

  “Have you decided when you’ll head back home?” Mary asked, and Faye’s attention snapped up abruptly.

  “I think this morning—” she began, before Simon broke in.

  “Surely you can stay at least until lunch time.” His gaze was fixed on hers, his lips curving enticingly upward, and the glance between them felt uncomfortably intimate with his mother standing nearby.

  “I suppose, as long as we leave right after,” Faye said, disinclined to argue over such a small request.

  Before long the pancakes were ready and the three of them sat down to eat. Faye tried to keep her eyes on her plate, but she couldn’t help losing track of the mundane conversation as her mind wandered back to her encounter with Simon at the piano, and she felt her stomach flutter annoyingly, chasing away her hunger.

  In the midst of her musings Faye found herself imagining what Simon and Jenna’s first kiss might have been like. Jenna had told her nothing about it. What words of enticement had he used to lure her to his bed? Or had she been the one to seduce him? Jenna wasn’t one to sit by and wait for something she wanted to come to her.

  Stop thinking about things like that!

  Faye couldn’t help it. Her desire for Simon invariably led to a guilty conscience. Of course Jenna had no claim on him; she’d dismissed him, deceived him. Still, to insert herself between her best friend and the father of her child felt disloyal and ill-advised to Faye. Were Jenna well, the story would be different, but to think of her friend grievously injured in the hospital cast an uneasy pall over the tender feelings growing in Faye’s heart.

  And how exactly do you feel about him? she asked herself, taking a moment to examine Simon across the table as he sliced through the pancake on his plate. He was right, of course; she did want him. His physical pull on her too strong to deny, but it wasn’t only his body she craved. She longed to know his heart, and to look into his eyes and see her affection reflected there.

  Simon glanced up then, catching her gaze on him, and he smiled softly. Faye felt her heart trip and then land with a heavy thud, unleashing a fresh swarm of butterflies in her belly.

  Glancing away, she saw Mary observing her son as well. She then turned her eyes on Faye, her brows lifted slightly in query. Feeling warmth rise in her face, Faye imagined that Mary was able to sense the attraction between her son and Faye crackling across the table like an electric current. Dropping her gaze, she attempted to hide her scorched cheeks behind her coffee mug.

  From the direction of the guest room came a low, sleepy-sounding wail.

  “Sounds like Hannah’s awake,” Simon said cheerfully, abruptly rising from his chair. “I’ll get her. I trust she likes pancakes?”

  Faye nodded, grateful for the interruption. “I can guarantee you they won’t end up tossed on the floor.”

  * * *

  “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

  Squealing, Hannah sprinted across the living room and into the kitchen, before spinning around and charging back to propel herself against the sofa. Grasping one of the leather cushions, with considerable effort she managed to clamber onto it, a look of triumph lighting her small, round face.

  “Are you sure you didn’t sneak some coffee into her milk?” Simon inquired dryly, placing syrupy plates into the sink as he watched the little girl totter across the sofa cushions.

  “She’s going to fall and get hurt,” Mary worried, hurrying to scoop up Hannah and place her safely on the carpet. Undaunted, the child scurried over to the patio door and began slapping her palms on the glass.

  “Out!” she shrieked. “Out out out!”

  “We can go outside, but not yet. I’m not dressed, and neither are you,” Faye told her, knowing the toddler wouldn’t comprehend why a person couldn’t just as easily enjoy the outdoors in pajamas as any other clothing.

  “She’s restless, poor little thing,” Mary said. “Why don’t we take her down to the beach for a while?”

  “She’d love that,” Faye said, relieved to have an activity to occupy the morning. “But I’ll need a few minutes to get ready.”

  “I’ll take her,” Mary offered. “You take your time. You look exhausted, Faye. You could use a little break from chasing this ball of energy around.”

  “Thanks, Mary.”

  “Simon, will you join us?” his mother asked.

  “I’m not dressed either, Mum. Go ahead. We’ll catch up with you.”

  “All right,” she agreed, a slight hesitation in her voice. Faye wasn’t sure whether to be offended or amused; did the woman think they were going to tear the clothes off each other the moment she left the house?

&nb
sp; Taking the reluctant toddler to the bedroom, Faye dressed her and brought her back out to Mary. Quite comfortable with her grandmother by now, Hannah was happy to be strapped into her stroller and wheeled out the door.

  “Come and join us as soon as you’re ready,” Mary reminded Faye and Simon as she left.

  “See you soon.” Faye turned to return to her room when Simon’s voice stopped her.

  “We didn’t finish our conversation last night.”

  She turned her head to look at him, catching her lip between her teeth briefly before replying. “I think more than enough was said.”

  He took a step closer, one of his brows lifting skeptically. “You never really answered my question.”

  Faye let out a slow breath. “You must know how I feel. But what I want and what I should do are two different things. I think Hannah saved us from making a mistake. Not that it wouldn’t have been … nice.” Fantastic, you mean. “But sometimes a little self-control is required. Look what happened with Jenna.”

  Simon’s hands went to his hips, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve heard this lecture already from my mother and sister,” he said bitingly. “I didn’t expect it from you. Especially after all I’ve done to take responsibility for my daughter, once I was told of her existence.”

  “I’m sorry,” Faye added quickly, regretting her words. “I don’t mean to lecture you. You’ve been wonderful. You are … wonderful.”

  As the last word left her lips she turned again to head to her room. She made it to the doorway before he spoke again.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get dressed.”

  “Why the hurry?” In two paces he was beside her. She faced him to reply, but before she could his hands slid around her, snaking under her robe to encircle her waist.

  Faye gasped in surprise. “Simon, please. I told you it doesn’t feel right.”

  Despite her protest he held fast, his eyes ablaze. “Tell me this doesn’t feel right.”

  Drawing her closer, he bent to cover her mouth with his, his lips claiming hers with unrestrained hunger. He tasted of coffee and syrup, warm and sweetly intoxicating. Surrendering, Faye melted against him, parting her lips to invite his deepening kisses. Not only did it feel right, it felt amazing. Letting her eyes fall closed, she succumbed to the urgent desire that electrified her body.

  She had no idea how much time had passed when Simon broke the kiss, speaking in a voice ragged with longing. “I told you I’m used to having control over my life. But you have a power over me, Faye. I’m helpless in your arms.”

  Far from helpless, he felt strong and vital against her, his luxuriant kisses having reduced her own limbs to rubber, while fuelling the insistent heat coiling in the pit of her stomach.

  “Don’t go back today. I want you and Hannah to stay,” he murmured against her lips. “My world feels so complete with you here. Both of you.”

  Faye shook her head, struggling to rein in her galloping heart. “I would love to stay, Simon, but you know I can’t. It’s not just me and Hannah involved here.”

  Undaunted, Simon dropped slow, hot kisses along the line of her jaw, enticingly grazing her earlobe, as his hands found their way into the soft waves of her hair. “If this didn’t feel right, you would have pushed me away long ago. But you’re still here in my arms.”

  Unable to deny it, Faye turned her face to meet his lips with her own, gathering him to her. The sprialling passion between them left her only dimly aware of drifting together toward the bed, until the backs of her calves hit the mattress. As she tumbled back onto the bedspread, tugging Simon down with her, his robe draped open, revealing a chest as pleasingly toned as she’d imagined; she couldn’t help smoothing her hands along the ridges of muscle before grasping the firm contours of his shoulders to urge him closer.

  This time, when he slid the strap of her nightgown off her shoulder, Faye didn’t protest. As the fabric slid away to reveal one breast, her pulse surged in anticipation. He lowered his head and settled his mouth onto the supple curve of her breast, exploring languidly; red-hot excitement seared through her as his tongue circled the sensitive tip.

  “Simon, you’re driving me mad,” she groaned, trembling with need as she yearned toward him.

  “As are you, beautiful Faye.” Lifting his head, he paused to smooth her hair back from her face, his gaze roaming over her features as though inscribing them to memory. The tenderness in his eyes warmed her to the core, and for lingering seconds she felt suspended in the moment, the synchronized rise and fall of their chests the only movement, the only sound their quickening breath. She felt safe in his arms, and cherished in his gaze.

  And then time tripped on as Simon bent to graze her throat with more slow, supple kisses. His palm slid under her back to draw her firmly against him, and she felt him rigid against her as his hand drifted over her hip to meet the bare flesh of her thigh, caressing with feathery strokes. Exquisite fire blazed anew through her veins, her heart thundering in her ears so loud that she barely heard the jangle of her cell phone on the bedside table.

  “Damn these interruptions,” Simon swore thickly. “Leave it.”

  Faye was tempted to comply, but over the last couple of weeks she’d made a point of never ignoring her phone. “It could be Carole,” she said, reluctantly raising her head to glance over.

  The number on the screen confirmed she was right. Her heart jumped.

  Feeling her stiffen beneath him, Simon rolled away from her, allowing her to sit up and snatched up the phone.

  “Carole?”

  “Faye? Jenna’s conscious. She’s spoken to me. She fades in and out, but she knows who I am. It’s amazing. Can you come right away?”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Faye said, before hanging up. “Jenna’s conscious,” she told Simon. “I have to go.”

  “I’m coming with you,” he said without hesitation, rolling off the bed to his feet.

  “To see Jenna? It’s not a good idea. You’ve got to give her some time first.”

  “I don’t have to see her right away. But I’m coming anyhow. Let’s get dressed. I’ll get Mum and Hannah.”

  Faye slid her strap over her shoulder as she stood up. Her nerves still hummed with unfulfilled need, but there was nothing to be done now. She had to go.

  Before leaving the room Simon kissed her lightly, inciting one last thrum of desire. “Could our timing be any worse?”

  Chapter Eight

  Faye hadn’t expected to cry; after all, she felt overwhelmingly happy. But the moment she saw Jenna, awake and aware, tears spilled freely from her eyes.

  “Faye?” Jenna’s voice sounded low and hoarse, yet unmistakable. She lay motionless against her pillow, her head still heavily bandaged. Her face no longer looked swollen, but discoloration from bruising remained, and dark smudges shadowed her eyes. Her glossy dark-brown hair hung loose around her shoulders; Carole had kept it clean and neatly brushed. All in all, Jenna looked remarkably well after fifteen days in a coma.

  “I’m here.” Faye sat on the edge of the bed, grasping her friend’s hand where it lay across the blanket covering her. With her other hand she wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “I’m so relieved to see you awake.”

  “Where’s Hannah?” Jenna asked slowly. Her eyelids were heavy but her gaze never wavered from Faye’s.

  “She’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll bring her to see you just as soon as the doctors allow it.”

  Jenna’s mouth twitched upward at the edges, attempting a smile. “My mother was crying, too. I must have given you quite a scare.”

  “You certainly did.” Relief continued to swell through Faye, hearing Jenna express cohesive thoughts. “But you’ll be fine now.”

  “I don’t feel too hot.” Jenna turned her head slightly, wincing. “But I suppose that’s to be expected.”

  “Do you know the driver who hit you has been charged?” Faye asked hesitantly, unsure whether she should bring up the subject so soon.r />
  “Mom told me. And I’ll be more than happy to testify against the jerk.” Jenna cleared her throat, frustrated by the raspy sound of it, and smoothed her tongue over her dry lips. As she spoke her words picked up speed, and she seemed more alert. “So have you managed to look after Hannah by yourself? I hope she’s been good to you.”

  “She’s been wonderful.”

  Jenna stared at Faye for a moment, her pretty gray eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Faye straightened, taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”

  “You have that look, like you’re hiding something. I’ve known you for twenty-five years, Faye. I can tell when something’s bother’s you. Is there something wrong with Hannah?”

  “No, she’s fine,” Faye assured her.

  Still looking alarmed, Jenna tried to shift herself in the bed, managing only a slight adjustment. “Then tell me what’s going on. Is it me? Is my injury worse than they told me?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Faye hesitated, her teeth embedded in her lower lip, realizing she had no choice but to spill the truth. “I didn’t want to tell you so soon. Simon’s here. He came when he heard about your accident.”

  Jenna’s eyes widened. “Oh. So you’ve met him.”

  “So has Hannah.” Faye stopped short of telling her that Hannah was in Simon’s care at that moment.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Jenna. But what else could I do? He told me he didn’t know about Hannah’s existence. That’s true, isn’t it?”

  Jenna relaxed a little against the pillow, her expression wilting. She tiled her head in a slight nod. “It’s true.”

  “Why did you keep it from him? Why did you lie to me?” Faye hadn’t intended to demand these answers until her friend was stronger, but now that the conversation had begun, she couldn’t stop the questions from coming.