Falling In Love Again

by Marilyn Forsyth

  She was different. For too long she’d relied on hard work and logical reasoning to get her through each day. Those characteristics had done well by her, helped keep her emotions in check, protected her from the worst of hurt. But last night, making love with Jamie, the unutterable tenderness of it had drained her of wanting anything more than to surrender to feelings she could no longer deny.

  Feelings of ... what? Contentment? Mmm, yes. Safety? Absolutely. Satisfaction? Hell, yeah!

  Love? Too difficult to call. Too many implications. Too much at stake.

  Beside her Jamie stirred and, with a sleepy satisfied sound, shifted round to enfold her in his arms, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

  ‘Congratulations,’ he breathed into the tangle of her hair.

  ‘On what?’

  ‘I told you I wouldn’t make love with you unless it was for the right reasons. But,’ he let go an exaggerated sigh, ‘somehow you managed to seduce me.’

  She pulled herself away to look up into his face, meeting his dark eyes. ‘It had to be done.’ The words, bubbling up from deep inside, emerged on a chuckle.

  He flicked his eyebrows up and down in mock wicked delight. ‘Yes it did, and you were far and away the right woman for the job.’

  She pushed at him playfully. ‘Your charm’s wasted on me.’

  A bass chuckle rumbled up from his chest. ‘Really?’

  A large hand tilted her head towards his. He was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. He definitely didn’t look like a kid though, swarthy shadow darkening his jawline, his shaggy hair spiking in all directions. He looked rumpled and sleep-tousled and very, very sexy.

  ‘Uh huh,’ she nodded, permitting herself a small twitch of the lips.

  ‘And my blatant sex appeal? Immune to that, too?’

  ‘I sure am. Couldn’t you tell last night?’ Her hand lazily traced the chiselled muscles of his chest. It was becoming hard to keep a straight face.

  ‘No,’ he said through a big grin. ‘You hid it pretty well.’

  ‘I did my best.’

  His deep-bellied hoot of endorsement was what finally took her over the edge. The sound floated up and out and then they were rolling together on the bed, wrestling and laughing and kissing.

  For the longest time her own happiness had simply not been a consideration. Caught up in the day-to-day slog of a single mother’s existence, working hard to provide a good life for Drew, she’d lost sight of the need for a bit of fun for herself. It felt so good to let loose the noose of self-control. These past few days had shown her that just existing was not nearly enough; a genuine lust for life was what made living worthwhile.

  They lay, recovering breath, bodies still entwined among the tangle of bedclothes. In the rose-coloured haze of this new and unexpected intimacy it would have been so easy to forget that outside of this time, this space, another world existed—the real world. She sighed, abruptly reminded of the fact that, in that world, she’d been sent here to do a job. Preserving Gracie was the most crucial thing, of course, but winning the grant was also important to her own future, and that of her son.

  ‘I’m glad you think I can do something right. That particular ability probably won’t carry a lot of weight with the museum board, though.’

  ‘Why do you feel you need to keep proving yourself? What other people think of you isn’t important. Only what you think of yourself.’ He studiously ignored her moue of disagreement and continued on. ‘So you have moments of self-doubt. Who doesn’t?’

  ‘You.’ She smoothed an unruly lock of black hair from his forehead. ‘You’ve never had a moment of self-doubt in your life.’

  He sat up, moved his hands to her face and brushed her lips with his thumbs. ‘Yeah, I have. Over Gracie.’ Inner struggle strained his expression, pulled down the corners of his mouth. ‘I have to sell her. I have to pay Harry back, and I need to do it soon, see, because I’m worried about his health. But ... ’ his voice, already thick with emotion, dropped even lower, ‘the thought of having to destroy Gracie is killing me inside.’

  His words tugged at her heart. ‘Then don’t do it!’ she cried. ‘There has to be something we can do.’

  He shrugged resignedly, dark-blue eyes full of shadows. ‘I can’t see what. Can you?’

  Her hand caressed the span of his broad shoulders. ‘We’ll find a way.’ For this new woman she’d become, believing was enough to make it happen. Everything was going to be okay. ‘If we trust our hearts and believe in our dreams, it’ll all come together for us.’

  ‘Trust and dreams.’ He drew her to him so that her shoulder fitted under the curve of his arm, her head resting on his shoulder. ‘I thought you didn’t have faith in either of those.’

  ‘I didn’t. Till now.’

  It was true. Up until last night, even as she’d found herself being drawn closer and closer to Jamie, some part of her still kept him at a distance. All for the sake of a self-protection she had no need of if she’d only trusted herself enough to open her heart and allow him in, believed in herself and trusted in him.

  ‘Who says dreams never come true?’

  ‘Nobody I know.’ She stroked his hair, loving the texture of its fluffy softness against her fingertips, then brushed her lips across his forehead, savouring the mixture of sweat and soap on his skin.

  He responded with a nuzzle to her ear, an acutely sensitive spot, sending shivers down her spine, inundating her with an intimacy that stirred her heart and filled her eyes with tears at the sweetness of it. How on earth had she managed to exist without this tenderness for so long?

  In that moment it came to her. She loved Jamie.

  The discovery stunned her. After all her declarations, her vows never to allow herself to love again, here she was falling in love with her first love. All over again.

  Or was it again? Had she ever stopped loving him? Had her marriage to Roger failed because she’d never really gotten over her love for Jamie? Was she that crazy?

  Her ability to make a mess of her life constantly amazed her. In the space of a few days she’d gone from believing she had some control of her life to having totally lost it. How—why—had she allowed herself to succumb to such a brazen assault on her emotions?

  Why? Because this was Jamie.

  She found herself struggling to make sense of what lay in her heart. Everything she believed about herself had just been shaken to the core, she still hadn’t told Jamie that Drew was his son, he hadn’t actually agreed not to dismantle Gracie, and yet ...

  She loved him.

  It was as simple—and as complex—as that. And she felt utterly helpless.

  His lips trailed a path from her neck toward her mouth.

  ‘Jamie, I—’

  Before she could finish, his mouth closed over hers, and a wave of tenderness poured through her, filling her with longing. His lips were gentle but insistent, lips she could go on kissing forever.

  The taste of true love was extraordinary. She’d never felt closer to anyone than she did to him at this moment. The feelings she’d had for him as a heartsick teenager, no doubt fuelled by raging hormones, paled into insignificance against the purity, the enormity of the love spreading through every part of her body. A woman’s body with a woman’s capacity for love.

  She loved him. She should tell him that. Tell him she’d never stopped loving him. Tell him she wanted nothing more from life than to be in his arms.

  And yet the words wouldn’t come. Even though she loved him more than she would have believed possible, the issue of Gracie’s possible imminent destruction still lay between them and until it was settled she couldn’t commit fully to him.

  Jamie’s lips moved with purposeful intent further down her body, the touch of his mouth on her skin filling her with a growing heat and a reckless need for more. When the breath she’d been holding released itself in a cry of ecstasy, it took with it every rational thought in her head.

  * * *

  Every so oft
en there are times you want never to end. Gemma sighed blissfully as she smiled at herself in the bathroom mirror and dragged a brush through her sleep-rumpled hair. Now was one of those times.

  For two years she’d lived a life of safe, respectable propriety as Drew’s mother, settling into life as a single parent with no desire for a man. She’d ignored the occasional involuntary stirrings of her body, focusing on her work and on being a good mum in an effort to distract herself from thoughts of sexual intimacy.

  But last night and again this morning, making love with Jamie had shown her that she’d been fighting the thing she needed most.

  To express love in a physical way with a man who cared for you was incredibly liberating. Rediscovering his body, his tenderness, his laughter, had granted her a freedom from the past she thought she’d never know. For too long reality had been too demanding to allow her time for dreaming, but when he touched her the world made sense and she could forget everything but the thrill of the sensation. Instant heat scorched her flesh and her stomach contracted as she recalled the intoxicating delight of their lovemaking.

  Now, for the first time since what seemed like forever, she could almost believe that dreams did come true, that the broken pieces of her heart could become whole once more. A bubble of joy swelled and burst beneath her ribs.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Large hands circled her waist and Jamie’s grinning face appeared over her shoulder in the mirror.

  The intimacy of the moment brought happy tears to her eyes. ‘I guess so.’ She turned and kissed his cheek, but letting go proved too hard. ‘Why don’t we just stay here?’ Maybe the time had arrived to confess to Jamie the truth about Drew; she’d tried to pick the right moment earlier but somehow it hadn’t come. Hard as it would be for her to admit, as far-reaching as the ramifications were, he deserved to know.

  ‘Nothing I’d like better.’ From the press of his body against hers, she could tell that was true. He grimaced. ‘But Harry would kick my butt. He’s gone to collect a new guest from the airport so I’m officially on duty as of,’ he glanced down at his watch, ‘half an hour ago. Geez, I hope we haven’t been overrun by visitors in need of accommodation in the meantime.’

  She gave a rueful chuckle. ‘Yeah, we really should check.’

  Talking and laughing, they made their way down the earth-carved hallway. The second they rounded the corner into the foyer, Gemma stumbled to a halt as her knees gave way beneath her. Fear rippled her skin and her breath stopped dead in her throat. Immaculate grey suit, carelessly arrogant stance; recognition was instant. The man talking to Harry at the reception desk was Roger.

  The fist she pressed to her mouth came too late to stop the cry of disbelief.

  He turned, his calculating eyes taking in the scene, measuring up the situation. ‘Hello, darling.’ The endearment rolled off his tongue with practiced ease, his voice deceptively gentle. ‘Fancy meeting up with you here.’

  Chapter 13

  Gemma stood motionless, her heart pounding a drumbeat of dread, too afraid to stay but too scared to move, needing to speak but unable to find her voice. Roger strolled over and, ignoring Jamie’s presence, leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth.

  Instinctively she flinched. The forceful lips and cloying aroma of his aftershave brought back memories she’d prefer not to be reminded of.

  What the hell was her ex-husband doing here?

  Oh shit! Even as the thought formed, goose bumps electrified every inch of skin. He’s here about the divorce.

  She should have known he wouldn’t let her get away with making a sole application for their marriage dissolution. She’d intentionally applied for it while he was away overseas, not wanting to have to face him. Her lawyer had ensured he’d been served, but he hadn’t responded to the petition.

  What subtle way would he find to punish her for daring to going ahead without his permission?

  Roger drew back slightly but his face remained only inches away. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  His breath on her cheek was warm but his cold grey eyes measured her with an unblinking stare. She suffered his nearness for several heartbeats, knowing that giving ground would be a mistake, would show he still had some power over her, but he was so close and she was already struggling to keep at bay the raw emotion urging her to scream.

  Why did this have to happen now, just when she’d taken the final steps towards freeing herself from him at last? Just when she’d begun to rediscover her true self?

  She didn’t have to look at Jamie to know he was watching her but she dared a sideways glance: he stood with his long legs apart, jaw clenched, face impassive. Unable to look at him without remembering the intimacy they’d so recently shared, she felt the blood warming her cheeks. The concern in his grave eyes gave her the strength to respond.

  ‘Roger. What are you doing here?’

  Her husband’s eyes flicked over Jamie before he positioned his body between them. ‘You’re clever enough to work that out aren’t you, sweetheart?’ The words were innocuous but she recognised the tone; the implication that she wasn’t nearly as clever as he was had been a favourite aspersion of his.

  ‘I ... I guess to discuss the, um ... divorce?’ To her disgust the last word emerged high and quivery.

  ‘We should, don’t you think?’ His hand came up and lightly touched the tresses lying loose about her shoulders; all the tiny hairs on her upper body rose in alarm. ‘But first let me say how lovely you look.’ The fingers he placed on her arm, though feather-light, served as a brand of ownership and he stared with unnerving intensity into her eyes. ‘Radiant, in fact.’ He glanced first at Jamie, who stood implacable beside him, then at Harry, who stood silent behind the reception desk with a bewildered expression on his face. ‘Wouldn’t you say so, gentlemen?’

  Harry grinned in agreement, innocently unaware of what was happening here, while Jamie nodded warily.

  Roger turned back to her, smile wide but his eyes unsmiling, the scrutiny sending a rush of fear to prickle every inch of her body. With trembling fingers she scraped the hair back from her face, suddenly very aware of her appearance. Were Jamie’s tousled mop and the heat now scorching her cheeks a giveaway of how they’d spent their morning?

  ‘As you can see, my wife embarrasses easily.’ Roger’s laugh probably sounded quite genial to the others but all she heard was the patronising tone.

  ‘Yeah, I have noticed that.’ Jamie spoke low, his jaw locked in place.

  Her husband gave him a once-over. ‘I’m sorry, who are you?’

  Roger’s possessiveness needed little to incite it, and if he recognised Jamie a confrontation was inevitable. She shrugged her arm free, doing her best to ignore the still-violent thumping of her heart. Walking a knife’s edge for the first five years of their marriage had taught her the most effective way to handle this potentially explosive situation was to defuse it before her ex seized on a reason to lose his cool.

  She pointed at Harry. ‘He’s Harry’s son,’ she cut in before Jamie could respond.

  Jamie eyed her quizzically and she flashed him a look she hoped he’d read as ‘don’t say anything’. But, of course, he did.

  ‘We’ve met, Devane. I was a student when you lectured at Eastern University some years ago.’

  Roger scanned Jamie’s face. ‘I thought I’d seen you somewhere before.’ The tone was overtly polite but she caught the sharp edge underneath; he’d recognised him all right. ‘I taught so many students over the years. Who are you again?’

  The meaning behind the controlled words was you weren’t important enough for me to remember your name. Her husband was a master of covert putdowns; as his primary victim she could testify to that.

  Jamie thrust out his neck. ‘James Coltrane.’

  Did he have any idea of the dangerous ground he was treading by entering into conversation with Roger? If either of them let loose their pent-up aggression there’d be a brawl for sure and, much as she’d like to see her ex humiliated,
this wasn’t the time or the place.

  ‘Roger, why don’t we—’

  ‘That’s right,’ her tormentor said over her, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘I remember you now. You dropped out, didn’t you? A shame.’

  The nonplussed look on Jamie’s face had to be a reflection of her own. What was Roger playing at? Why was he being so ... friendly?

  ‘Wait a minute. Didn’t you two date back then?’ The feigned surprise was a sham; he knew exactly how much Jamie had meant to her. Had thrown it in her face often throughout their marriage. ‘Wow. Fancy meeting up all the way out here.’ Reluctantly she looked up into his face, bracing herself for him to turn on her, but instead he met her eyes levelly. ‘Quite a coincidence.’

  Flustered, agitated, not daring to risk a look at Jamie, she nodded. ‘It was.’

  ‘Right.’ He gave her a smile, but the unspoken message in his eyes was one of disbelief. If he’d been running true to usual form, this scenario would have led to accusations of cheating, to threats and intimidation, all in private, of course, with no one to witness the way he treated her.

  The crazy truth was, this time the accusations would have been true.

  He had to be playing these mind games to try to derail her. But why, when all he had to do was glare at her with the contempt that he had during their marriage and she’d melt like an ice cube under the Rainbow Cliffs sun to a humiliated puddle at his feet?

  ‘Let me buy you a drink later, Coltrane.’ Roger stuck out his right hand. ‘We can chat about old times.’

  Jamie studied her ex’s face, his own set in hard lines before, following a warning cough from Harry, he finally offered his hand in return.

  ‘For now, though, I’d like to catch up with my lovely wife. What do you say, darling? Do you have time to talk?’

  His infuriatingly affectionate tone galled. What the hell was going on?

  That’s when it hit her. Roger was falling back on old ways, pouring on the charm for the benefit of the onlookers, trying to make them believe he was the good guy here. He’d done the same thing with all their friends after the separation, leaving her isolated and without any support.