“This’ll just take a sec,” she told Simone, before getting up and walking a few paces away.
“Hi, Chris. What’s up?”
“Hi, Kate.” A short pause. “I just . . . I need to apologize. For Anastasia, for that day at your apartment . . . for everything.”
“It’s okay.” And as she said it, she realized it was true. She didn’t want Chris back in her life, but she forgave him.
The split between them had been for the best. They’d been together because it was easy, not because it was right. They both deserved better than that.
“Thanks. I was hoping maybe we could have a drink or something. Not because I want to get back together,” he added quickly. “The truth is, I think I should spend some time alone. But I’d like a chance to say goodbye to you. Goodbye and thank you.”
They’d been together for eight months. Getting closure would be good for both of them.
“Sure. We can do that. Why don’t you come by my place tomorrow night? We can have a drink at the bar on the corner.”
“That sounds great. Seven o’clock?”
“I’ll see you then.”
As she sat back down at the table, she reflected on the turn her life had taken. It had been less than a month since Chris had slept with another woman and broken their engagement, and she’d come to terms with her feelings and moved on.
Now she just had to come to terms with her feelings for Ian . . . and move on.
It was raining cats and dogs and Ian didn’t have an umbrella, but he didn’t care. He had to apologize to Kate, and if that meant waiting in the rain until he grew gills, then that was what he’d do.
He’d been in the doorway of the building across the street for the last twenty minutes. She hadn’t answered any of his calls—no surprise there—and when he went to her apartment, Andreas told him that she’d gone out about an hour before.
So he’d wait for her to come back. No matter how long it took.
She’d been right about everything.
As soon as he’d gotten home the day before, he’d talked to Jacob, and his nephew had told him the whole story.
“Kate wanted to tell you right away, but I wouldn’t let her. I know you think comics and superheroes are stupid. I wanted to wait until everything was settled before I told you. That way you wouldn’t be able to laugh at me or tell me to go play football or something.”
Jacob’s expression had been angry and miserable. It was obvious that Kate had been right the night of Mick’s wedding, when she’d accused him of trying to turn Jacob into someone he wasn’t.
He couldn’t even think about trying to fix things with Kate until he’d fixed things with Jacob.
“Would you let me read your story? I’d really like to.”
At first Jacob said no, but when Ian asked again, his nephew agreed, albeit grudgingly. Jacob brought the book out into the living room, handed it to him without a word, and then went back to his room and shut the door.
Ian was blown away.
He’d had no idea his nephew was capable of something like this. The story was rough, of course, but it was exciting and original and compelling. He wasn’t surprised that Kate had recognized that fact immediately.
He didn’t try to push too hard with Jacob that night. He knocked on his door, handed the book back, and told him it was fantastic.
“Whatever. Did you apologize to Kate?”
“I will tomorrow. I promise.”
Now, standing across the street from her apartment in the dubious shelter of an archway, he wondered if she’d ever talk to him again.
She’d been pretty clear on that point yesterday. But Kate had a generous heart, and he was counting on that heart to give him a second chance.
Not that he deserved one.
There was a café next door to Kate’s building. Did his guilt demand that he go without coffee?
He decided that coffee could be allowed during his vigil. He’d get it to go and keep an eye out to make sure he didn’t miss Kate.
He turned up the collar of his overcoat—not that it did much to shield him from the driving rain—and went to the crosswalk.
He froze.
The blare of a car horn brought him back to his senses, and he made it back to the sidewalk without getting run over.
Kate was in the bar on the corner. She was sitting at a table by the window . . . with Chris.
In one split second he went from a sane, reasonable, penitent human being to some kind of caveman fueled by a wave of jealousy so powerful it made him shake.
Slowly, painfully, he forced himself to calm down.
What the hell was she doing with that jerk?
Awareness of the irony wasn’t far behind. Chris might be a jerk, but Ian was worse.
Rebound sex was supposed to help you move on after a breakup. But what if he’d been such an asshole that he’d driven Kate back into her ex-fiancé’s arms?
For the first time that night, he was grateful for the rain. It was cold and bleak and mirrored his mood.
It was what he deserved.
He wanted to go into that bar and break Chris’s jaw. But in a contest to pick the biggest jerk in Kate’s life, it would be a toss-up between the two of them. Chris had just as much reason to break his jaw.
So he went back to his doorway. He couldn’t see them anymore, but he had a clear view of the bar’s front door. He’d know when they came out.
And if they went back to her place together.
He didn’t have long to wait. Ten minutes later, they came through the door, saw the rain, and retreated under the shelter of the bar’s awning. They stood talking together for several minutes.
Ian shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t try to tear chunks of stone out of the wall behind him.
It was obviously a friendly conversation; Kate’s body language was comfortable and relaxed. After a little while Chris said something that made her laugh, and then they hugged.
Ian tensed. Was that a goodbye-and-good-luck hug, or a first-step-on-the-road-to-reconciliation hug?
He felt a surge of relief when they separated, Chris hailing a cab and Kate hurrying down the sidewalk with her shoulders hunched against the rain. Even if they were thinking about getting back together, at least they weren’t together yet.
Suddenly he realized what he’d just tacitly admitted to himself.
He hadn’t come here just to apologize. He’d come to ask Kate to be with him.
As in date. As in exclusively. As in the thing he never did.
Of course, she’d be crazy to agree. Any friend who had her best interests at heart would tell her so. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying.
He waited until Andreas let her in, and then he crossed the street.
“Good timing, sir. Ms. Meredith just got back.”
“Thanks,” he said, making sure that Kate had gone up in the elevator before he entered the lobby.
A few minutes later he was standing outside her apartment, his heart going a million miles an hour. He was also dripping on the hallway floor, but he didn’t give a damn about that. All he could think about was the woman on the other side of this door.
He took a deep breath and knocked.
When the door opened, Kate was there with a smile, toweling off her hair. When she saw who it was, the smile faded. “I thought you were Chris,” she said, her eyes turning cold and distant.
Maybe when Chris had hailed a cab, it had been to go home and pick up his pajamas and toothbrush.
The thought made his stomach clench. “Are you expecting him? Is he . . . staying here tonight?”
She stared at him. “Are you kidding? Do you honestly think that’s any of your business? Go away, Hart.”
She started to close the door, but he stepped across the threshold befo
re she could.
Her eyes narrowed. “In two seconds I’m going to scream bloody murder and call the cops.”
“It’s about Jacob,” he said, knowing that was the only thing in the world he could say right now that she might listen to.
She sighed. “All right, fine. You have one minute.”
It was a start. “Jacob asked me to tell you that he wants to go ahead with Powers if you’re still interested.”
“You can tell Jacob I’ll send him an email tomorrow to touch base.” She paused. “I take it you’re okay with this now?”
“Yeah.”
Her lip curled. “Then you and Jacob must have talked.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad for his sake. But if you have anything else to say, I don’t need to hear it.”
He reached for her hand before he could stop himself. “Please, Kate.”
She jerked her hand away. “I told you yesterday I’m not interested in your apology.”
“I’ll get on my knees if I have to.”
“Oh, really?” Her expression was skeptical. “I think it’ll be a cold day in hell before I see Ian Hart—”
He didn’t even hesitate. He dropped to his knees and reached for her hand again.
“Kate, I’m so sorry. I jumped to conclusions, and I was wrong. There’s no excuse for my behavior, and I won’t try to give you one. I’ll just say that if you give me another chance to be in your life, I won’t screw it up.”
Her eyes widened. For a moment after he finished speaking, she just stared at him. Then she shook her head sharply, pulled her hand from his grasp, and backed up a few steps.
“No. No way. I’m not letting you in again.”
He rose to his feet. “Kate—”
She ran both hands through her damp hair. The action made him aware for the first time of what she was wearing—a short-sleeved blouse and a knee-length skirt that the rain had plastered to her body. When she raised her arms, her breasts strained against the material.
A flash of lust lanced through him.
He shook his head to clear it and tried again. “Kate—”
“Save it, Hart. It wasn’t enough that you seduced me and then rejected me—which I dealt with like a damn saint. But then you had to push me even further away. You needed to invent a whole betrayal scenario to do it, but that didn’t stop you.”
Her lips trembled for a moment before she went on. “The sad thing is, I actually blamed myself for that first situation. I thought I’d made the same mistake women have been making for centuries: reading more into sex than was ever there. I thought I’d been blind and stupid.”
“Kate—”
“But you were the blind one. You were the stupid one. Because there was more between us than we expected, not less. And you ran away from that like the gutless coward you are.”
There was a long beat of silence. When Kate spoke again, her voice was quieter.
“Look, Hart—I’m sorry Paula hurt you so badly. But you don’t have to expect every woman you meet to be like her. You could expect them to be like your mother and Tina.”
He laughed shortly. “Yeah? They left me, too.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.
He didn’t blame his mother and Tina for dying. What the hell kind of thing was that to say? Was that really lurking in his subconscious somewhere?
He rubbed a hand over his face. What was it about Kate that made him reveal himself like this? Now she’d think he was even more screwed up than she already did.
“They didn’t leave you on purpose,” Kate said gently. “They died.”
“Yeah, I know. Forget I said that, okay? I don’t know where that came from.”
“You miss them.”
He dropped his hand to his side. “Goddamn it, Kate, stop looking at me like that.”
Her eyes were as gentle as her voice. “Like what?”
“Like you feel sorry for me.”
She tilted her head to the side, and a lock of hair fell across her cheek. “I do feel sorry for you. That’s not the worst thing in the world.”
“It is to me. Damn it, you’re doing it again.”
She threw up her hands. “How do you want me to look at you?”
Her words hung in the air for a moment. Then he closed the distance between them and pushed her back against the wall.
He leaned in close and felt her shiver. “I want you to look at me like you did Saturday night. Like you did the day Chris was here and I held you just like this.” His jaw tensed. “I saw you with him at that bar, and it made me crazy. I couldn’t handle it, thinking you’d gone back to that asshole—”
“Chris isn’t an asshole,” Kate said. Her voice was trembling. “He has a lot of good qualities.”
“Oh yeah? Name one.”
“He’s . . . he’s . . . gentle.”
His grip on her shoulders tightened. “I’m not gentle.”
She closed her eyes. “No.”
“Is that a problem for you?”
He watched the heat creep into her face. “No.”
“I didn’t think so,” he whispered. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him, her breath quick and shallow.
He moved his hands to her hips. “I’ve wanted to take you against a wall since that night at the club.” He smoothed his palms down her thighs. “The day Chris was here, I was a breath away from doing it.” He found the hem of her skirt, and his hands slid underneath and up her bare legs.
She drew in a sharp breath. “Ian . . . stop. You have to stop.”
He did, but he didn’t pull back.
“Are you saying you don’t want me?”
Kate turned her head away. “After everything that’s happened between us, I should hate you.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
She met his eyes again, and there was turmoil in her expression. But behind her anger and confusion and uncertainty, he saw an unmistakable spark of desire.
He began to stroke her bare thighs again, letting his hands rove higher until he found the edge of her panties.
He traced that edge softly, slowly, his fingertips grazing over the sensitive crease where her leg met her hip.
“Ian . . .”
There was a pleading note in her voice. He wasn’t sure if she was begging him to stop or to keep going, but he was going to assume the latter.
He covered her mound with his palm.
She gasped and clutched at his shoulders. He massaged her through her panties, and the little sounds she made had him hungry for more.
He slipped a finger underneath the soft lace, and she was so hot and wet and ready for him, he almost howled like a wolf.
“Kate—”
She squirmed against him, and he slicked a finger back and forth over her clitoris.
“Ian!”
Her face was flushed, her eyes bright.
“What do you want, Kate?”
“I want . . . I want—”
“Tell me, sweetheart.”
“I want you inside me. Now.”
He was already hard, but that turned him into an iron rod.
“You’re sure?” he said thickly.
“Yes. Yes . . .”
Christ, he hoped there was a condom in his wallet.
He kept one hand on Kate’s glorious heat as he pulled out his wallet with the other. Yes, thank God—a single foil packet.
He held it in his teeth as he dropped the wallet to the floor. Only then did he pull away from Kate, but just so he could shrug out of his overcoat, undo his pants, and push them down far enough to free his erection.
“Panties,” he growled as he tore open the condom and rolled it over his shaft.
As orders went, it was a little vague, b
ut Kate had no trouble interpreting it. She wriggled them off and kicked them away, and then he hooked his hand under her right thigh to hoist her leg over his hip.
She was ready for him—and God knew he was ready for her. But as he gazed down into her flushed, sweet, beautiful face, he hesitated.
He wanted her physically more than he’d ever wanted a woman. But with Kate, it wouldn’t be just physical. He showed himself to her in ways he didn’t expect. And when she revealed herself to him, he was only drawn in deeper.
Was he ready for that?
Then Kate reached down between their bodies, grasped him in her hand, and guided him towards her.
Sweet holy Christ.
It didn’t matter if he was ready. He couldn’t stop now to save his life.
He slid inside her with one thrust, and she arched her head back and cried out.
He braced his forearm against the wall and leaned in to press a quick, hard kiss onto her lips. He kept his other hand under her thigh, tightening his grip as he withdrew and slid back in.
Another slow stroke, and another. Kate’s hands fisted in his shirt. Then he was pounding into her with hard, urgent thrusts, her soft cries driving him out of his mind.
He knew she was close when her body tightened around him. He reached down to roll her clit between his fingers, and then she was calling out his name as her head thrashed from side to side.
His own orgasm slammed into him like a tidal wave. He was gripped by ecstasy, shuddering and throbbing inside her.
After what seemed like a long time, he realized he was pressing kisses against her throat and murmuring her name like a prayer.
He wanted to stay inside her forever. But when their breathing finally slowed, he gently disengaged their bodies.
He searched her face for some sign of what she was feeling, but her eyes were closed. Then she gave a long, low sigh.
“That was incredible,” she murmured.
His heart tightened in his chest.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered. “And we’re incredible together.”
She opened her eyes. “Sexually, yes.”
He shook his head. “Not just sexually. That’s not all I want from you.”
Almost Like Love Page 18
