Nick leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand across the side of his jaw. “Thank you for that. I never dreamed...” He sighed. “Luke said he’d be able to change your mind about me. I’m grateful he was right.”
Luke didn’t move, but he shot her a glance from his position by the wall. Bingo. He knew exactly what his friend was referring to. And that look was one of pure, unadulterated guilt.
“I didn’t do anything,” he insisted. Kate wasn’t sure if the words were directed at Nick or her.
“I didn’t know you were modest, too.”
“Nick.” There was a warning note to his voice now.
Kate’s whole body went numb with shock when she realized the implications.
All that time they’d spent together... Had it all been part of some plan—an attempt to gain her trust and sympathy?
Nick nodded. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter why she’s giving me a chance, just that she is.”
Please don’t say anything else. Either of you.
Her stomach rebelled as she remembered Luke dragging her to his house and showing her his scars. How he’d given her that sob story about how Nick had saved his life...his leg. What she’d done afterward.
Oh, God. She was a bigger fool than she’d thought.
Luke owed Nick his life...he’d said it himself. He’d do anything for the man. Including sleep with his daughter? Or had that been just a little side benefit?
Her cheeks burned red-hot as the horrible realization grew and took root. Luke had been charming her in his bad-boy way and she’d lapped it right up like a cat with a bowl of cream.
Had it all been an act? Had he lied about knowing who she was as they’d drunk coffee together those first few days? He’d acted like she’d tricked him—that she’d used him to get what she wanted. Maybe it was the other way around. Maybe she was the one who’d been tricked.
Luke was watching her closely.
She didn’t care. Didn’t care what he thought she was thinking about. Maybe he was hoping to score again tonight. No way. If she hadn’t been stranded she’d have got the hell out of there and driven back to the hotel, where she’d have the biggest boo-hoo session known to womankind. Then tomorrow she was going to pick herself up and book a flight—the first available—out of London, leaving it far behind.
Along with Luke.
Furious and sick inside, she put on a brave but very fake smile and leaned over to kiss Nick’s cheek. “I didn’t need coaxing from anyone to see what a good man you are. And I’m incredibly fortunate to have found you. I need to get back to my job in the States so I’ll be leaving soon—maybe even tomorrow.” She gulped back a sob. “But I’ll call you. And I’ll expect you to keep me posted on the baby. I want pictures of that nursery when it’s finished, and—”
Tiggy interrupted her speech. “I thought you were considering staying for a while longer? At least, I hoped you were.”
“I’m sure I’ll be back someday.” But not until her heart had scabbed over. “Maybe after the baby is born.” And after Luke has left London.
“We’d love you to stay with us. We have another bedroom.”
“Thank you.” She pushed back from the table. “I really need to get back to the hotel, so I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Are you sure?” Tiggy’s voice sounded uneasy. Leave it to a woman to sense when something was wrong. Really wrong. “Can’t you stay a while longer?”
Not unless they all wanted to see what a human fire hose looked like. Because she was going to lose it soon.
“No, I’m sorry. I can take a cab.”
Luke took a step toward the table. “I’ll take you. I have to go back that way, anyway.”
The last thing she wanted to do was sit next to him in that tiny car and listen to him try to explain away Nick’s words. But maybe he wouldn’t even try.
As soon as he dropped her off, though, she was never going to see Luke Blackman again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LUKE CURSED TO himself as he shifted the car into Reverse and backed out of the driveway.
He’d seen the moment her face had closed in on itself, her smile fading as she’d realized what Nick had been saying. It was true. He had offered to try to portray his friend in a good light—it’s why he’d invited her to dinner that first time. But from that point on, what they’d done together had had nothing to do with Nick.
The need to set her straight burned in his chest, along with an explanation that hung on the tip of his tongue. She’d been horrified by Nick’s words—humiliated that he might have become involved with her for that reason alone. It was why she’d suddenly decided to pick up and leave London tomorrow, he was sure of it. And that fact burned like bile in the back of his throat.
So why wasn’t he turning to her and pleading for her to believe him when he said that sleeping with her had had nothing to do with any promise he’d made to Nick?
And yet he held himself still and kept it all inside him. Even as she gripped her hands tightly in her lap and stared out the windshield as if she was barely holding it together.
Wasn’t it better this way? The only reason he’d shown her his scars had been because he’d known she was leaving. How much easier did it make things that she was flying out sooner than expected? And that she’d have no thoughts of coming back to pick up where they’d left off?
Easier? That wasn’t the right word, because he wanted her to stay and he had no idea why.
Oh, he had an idea. A good one. But he wasn’t about to admit it to himself or anyone else, because he couldn’t do anything about it.
Seeing that muscular man standing next to Kate in the lobby of the hotel and seeing the healthy glow in her cheeks had been a game-changer for him. Much like the moment he’d realized that car-accident victim had been suffering from flail chest.
The terrain shifted along with his normal response reflexes.
With every other woman there’d been a gradual period of backing off. He’d slept with them a couple of times then he had suddenly been busier at work, offering to take on longer shifts. Not because he’d been an ass who hadn’t been able to stick with any one woman but because he hadn’t wanted to deal with the ramifications involved with being in a relationship. Or how his physical limitations might affect any children they might have. His lifestyle was something he’d come to accept, even if it wasn’t something he’d label as ideal.
Anyway, his method of easing out of any potential relationships had worked until now. The woman in question either got tired of waiting—thinking his sudden lack of availability meant he was a workaholic who’d be the worst kind of husband imaginable—or she got the hint that he wasn’t looking for anything lasting.
He was having a harder time selling that line to his heart right now. But deep inside he knew that allowing things to end right here was what he should do. Kate could have any guy in the world. Any guy. Why would she want to be with one who regularly tortured himself with thoughts of what he couldn’t do?
Even if by some strange twist she did, the last thing Luke wanted was to be her pet project. To feel like every time he gave the slightest twinge of discomfort she was going to pull out all her tools and go to work on him. He wanted to be her equal, not another patient in a long line of patients. Because he’d end up hiding his pain, which would make him resentful of having to do just that. When he got home, all he wanted to do was relax and let his leg recover from the day’s work.
The last thing he’d wanted to do, though, was hurt her. “Are you okay?”
She gave a soft laugh that was so devoid of humor it made him wince. “I will be once I get back in my own environment.”
“About what Nick said...” He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
There. He’d done it. His apology wasn’t meant to confi
rm Nick’s assertion, but he knew Kate would take it that way. And he was going to let it stand.
“Don’t be. I knew the score from the very beginning.” They pulled up in front of her hotel. “I just never thought you were capable of stooping to that level.”
“Kate—”
“Don’t.” She clicked her door open and stepped out onto the polished cobblestones. Giving him one last hard look, she said, “Goodbye, Luke.”
The door slammed, and then she was walking away toward the entrance of the hotel. He shifted into Neutral and stepped on the parking brake, his chest tight and his body poised to get out of the car. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. And then another. Before he could change his mind he released the brake, put the car into gear and pulled out of the hotel entrance, knowing it was the last time he would ever see Kate Bradley. The pain was worse than anything he’d experienced with his leg. And there was absolutely nothing he could do to fix it.
* * *
Kate got off the plane in Memphis and found her dad there to meet her. The tears she’d banished for the past twenty-four hours suddenly resurfaced, and before she knew it she found her face buried against his familiar chest, his arms coming round her. The slight tremor from his Parkinson’s just made her tears fall faster.
“Hey, kiddo. What’s wrong?” The alarm in his voice was unmistakable.
She scrubbed her eyes with her forearm. “Just missed you, that’s all.”
Her dad cupped her chin and tipped it up, looking into her face. “You sure?”
“Yes.” She pulled in a deep breath. It was time to leave what had happened in England behind her and get on with her life.
Had her mother’s insides cramped each time she’d said goodbye to someone? Or had she just smiled and gone on her way?
Kate would never know the reasons she’d done what she had, but she knew her mother had loved her...just as she’d loved Tim Bradley.
She looped her arm around her dad’s waist as she drew him away from the gate and toward the baggage claim area. Banishing the last of her tears, she said, “So how have you been? Have you kept up with your therapy?”
“I have. My doctor is going to try a new treatment regimen.”
“That’s wonderful. What is it?”
The next hour or so was spent giving her an update on his doctors’ appointments and the medication he’d be taking in the near future. Kate forced her mind to absorb every word her father said, knowing that it would keep her from dwelling on things she couldn’t change.
She’d half hoped she’d get to Heathrow airport to find Luke waiting for her, telling her she’d been all wrong about him. But his tight apology still rang in her ears, an indictment that had said he was indeed guilty of toying with her in order to plead Nick’s case.
“Do you want to go out for dinner, or do you want to go straight home?”
She smiled. Her dad was one of the most selfless people she’d ever known, and she loved him dearly. “Can we do both? I need to shower and change, but I’d love to go out and hear all the news.”
“Sure thing, pumpkin. And you can tell me how things went in London.”
She’d tell him some of it, but not everything. She’d leave out the broken heart she was currently sporting. Neither would they discuss her mother and that shoebox.
He hadn’t mentioned it. Maybe he—like Kate—realized it would do no good to dredge up the past and try to figure out what had gone on in her mother’s mind. Her mom had indeed carried some secrets to the grave. Or had tried to. She had a feeling Luke would, as well. Would he ever show his scars to another woman?
Her stomach twisted. Did it matter?
If she was honest with herself, she’d say yes because, despite how much his deception had hurt, she really did wish him well. That meant being honest with himself and whoever he was involved with in the future. He needed to face his past and come to terms with it in order to have a shot at a normal life.
Just like she’d have to come to terms with him. And somehow...somehow figure out how to put him—and everything that had gone on between them—in the past, once and for all.
* * *
If one more person asked him where Kate was, he was going to blow a gasket.
Why would anyone assume he knew?
Maybe because he did?
He alone had seen the look on Kate’s face. Knew what had run through her mind. He was the only one who knew what they’d done together.
And for that he would burn. No need to add any earthly voices to the damning mix.
He turned toward his latest inquisitor—Laisse from the physical therapy center—and pasted on a smile. One that hid the ache in his leg, which had grown over the course of the day. One week and counting, since she’d left. “From what I understood, she had to get back home to her job.”
“I’m really disappointed she didn’t at least come in to say goodbye. We’d talked about her staying at the center. I even thought she was considering it. She would have been a great addition.”
She’d seriously thought about working in London? That dark pit in his heart grew a little larger. At least Nick had no idea what had happened, and he intended to keep it that way.
“I don’t know anything about that.” He knew his tone was short, not inviting her to share anything else about Kate’s plans.
“Did you know she was leaving so soon? It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
The other woman fell into step beside him, and he forced a sigh of exasperation back down his throat. It had been a killer week, with three drug overdoses and a couple of kids who’d taken the family car for a joyride and ended up wrapping it around a streetlight. He didn’t think he could handle much more. “She might have mentioned it.”
In actuality, she hadn’t mentioned much of anything during that car ride back to the hotel. He’d picked up the phone the next afternoon and dialed her number, out of morbid curiosity, but she’d already checked out.
Laisse wasn’t the only who hadn’t received a goodbye.
He brushed the woman off the best he could and made his way to the front entrance. Hell, why was he suddenly getting that homesick feeling again?
It had nothing to do with missing the United States, though, and everything to do with missing a certain throaty drawl that went straight to his gut.
Yeah, he missed her. So what? He’d missed plenty of women after they’d parted ways.
Hadn’t he?
Or was it just Kate?
He stopped outside the double doors of the hospital and leaned against one of the brick entry columns, trying to gather his thoughts. Tonight just might be a drinking night.
That was one way to relieve the ache that went far beyond his mangled limb.
As he pushed off to make his way to his car, a silver coupé pulled up next to him. The passenger window powered down and there inside was the last person he wanted to see.
Nick.
“Thought you might feel like heading to a pub for a drink. Unless you have plans.”
Plans. Not likely. He couldn’t stomach the thought of going on a date—or anything else—with anyone other than Kate. And she was long gone.
“No plans.”
“Great. Get in.”
Luke opened the passenger door and slid inside the vehicle, stretching his sore leg out in front of him with a sigh. Felt good to get off it.
“Leg bothering you?”
“Not much. How about your back?”
“Hanging in there.” He shifted the car into Drive with a laugh. “Will you look at us? Battered and bruised and neither willing to admit we’re any different than we once were.”
Luke grunted, but didn’t answer. He’d admitted it all right. Each and every day. It was why he’d let Kate walk away, when what he�
��d really wanted to do was tell her that he...
No use thinking thoughts like that. So he changed the topic. “How’s Tiggy doing?”
“Great. I’m one lucky SOB.” He glanced over at him. “I heard from Kate a couple of days ago. Thought you might like to know.”
The hand farthest from Nick slowly tightened into a fist as he tried to stop himself from demanding to know how she was doing...how she’d sounded over the phone...if she missed him at all. Instead, he said, “Oh?”
“Yep. She sounded kind of off.”
“Off? In what way?” He forced his voice to remain casual. He’d hoped against hope she’d get home and forget about him. Blow him off as some jerk who didn’t deserve a second thought—just like the guy from the hotel. “Is her father okay? She said he was in the early stages of Parkinson’s.”
“Seems so strange to hear someone else being called her father, even though I know I don’t have the right to think she might one day call me that.”
“I got the idea the whole situation was kind of confusing.”
“Her mother had other letters in that shoebox, did you know that?”
“Yes.” Which made him feel like even more of a dick in not trying to explain that he’d been genuinely attracted to her. That the time they’d spent together had had nothing to do with any favor for Nick. “She told me.”
Nick pulled over to the side of the road in front of a pub called The Grill. As Luke stepped on his leg, he realized he probably should have headed straight home. The car ride over had made the muscles stiff, and they were now protesting at being made to go back to work.
“Why aren’t you using a cane?”
He tightened his jaw and forced his gait to steady back out. “Don’t need one. Besides, patients aren’t thrilled about seeing their doctor hobble around the E.R. with a walker.”
It was Friday night and the place was hopping. Only these voices sounded animated and hopeful, not those of the beaten-down drunks he’d hoped to find. The last thing he wanted to do was find himself surrounded by revelers.
Because he had nothing to celebrate.
They ventured into the dim recesses of the place and found a table right away, by some miracle. Luke looked at the drinks menu. He needed something strong. He could always leave his car at the hospital and take a cab back to his apartment.
The Lone Wolf's Craving Page 14
