Finally Home

by Taylor, Helen Scott

  He passed a key to Doug, who then took Emily’s arm to help her up from the chair. They said goodnight and headed for their room a short distance away on the ground floor.

  “We’re upstairs,” Jack said. “Let’s take the lift. I’m too shattered to face stairs.” He pushed the lift-call button.

  They stood side by side, staring up at the illuminated arc of numbers ticking down above the door while the ancient lift rattled and groaned. A strange tension hummed between them, prickling Melanie’s skin.

  She cast Jack a sideways glance, looking for a reason. “Anything wrong?”

  Jack rubbed the back of his neck then picked up the bags as the lift bell chimed. “Sorry, Mel, you’re not going to like this.” He looked at her, his face half in shadow, his eyes unusually dark. “They only had two rooms available. We’ll have to share.”

  A few minutes later, heart thumping as though she’d run up the stairs rather than taken the lift, Melanie stood inside the doorway of their hotel room and watched Jack put their bags side by side on the end of the bed.

  Side by side! Her heart did a skip and a jump and couldn’t decide if it wanted to race or stop altogether.

  The bed looked small. It was a double, but an old-fashioned double. The trend for king-size beds obviously hadn’t reached this part of Naples.

  Jack unzipped his case and pulled out the toiletries bag she’d packed for him a few hours earlier in Positano. Because she’d already handled his personal possessions, the moment didn’t feel as awkward as she’d expected. Packing for him had helped her overcome the strangeness of being in his room. He removed a piece of paper from his bag, unfolded it and held it up, grinning. “I see you found the masterpiece your son gave me.”

  “Actually—” Melanie unfastened her bag and pulled out her own picture. She unfolded it and held it up. “Snap!”

  Jack’s grin turned into a laugh. “Something tells me that little monkey of yours is matchmaking.” As the words left his mouth, Melanie involuntarily glanced at the bed. So did Jack. He gave her a wry smile. “He’d be pleased with this setup.”

  Melanie smiled, thinking about her son. He’d be so excited for them all to be together. “If he were here, he’d probably be bouncing on the bed.” The slight tension in her body melted away. This situation wasn’t Jack’s fault. She was certain he wouldn’t take advantage of her. They just had to survive tonight and get Imelda home tomorrow. Then they could return to normal.

  If she could forget the kiss on the beach.

  “I’ll sleep in the chair if you like.” Jack glanced around the room and his gaze settled on an armchair with an ornate gold frame that appeared to be designed for looks, not comfort.

  Melanie clenched and released her fingers a few times. She couldn’t expect Jack to sleep on that impractical chair after the horrendous day he’d had. “No. Don’t be silly.” She opened the wardrobe door and to her relief found spare blankets and pillows. “I’ll make myself up a bed on the floor.”

  “No way. I won’t have you make do with the floor while I’m in the bed.” He wrested the blankets from her hands and spread them out on the grubby, threadbare carpet between the side of the bed and the wall. “This will do for me.”

  A cockroach scuttled along beside the wall and disappeared under the bed. Melanie couldn’t expect Jack to sleep down there, and she didn’t fancy it either.

  “The floor’s out, Jack. It’s dirty. Don’t worry, we’ll share the bed.”

  “You sure? I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, really.” But the way his nose wrinkled as he glanced down belied his words.

  “Absolutely,” she said firmly. “I’m so weary I’ll be asleep the moment my head hits the pillow. I won’t even know you’re there.”

  “Me too!” Jack laughed, but it sounded a bit forced. He bundled up the blankets from the floor and tossed them on the chair.

  Melanie busied herself sorting out the things she needed from her bag to avoid looking at him. With her nightdress and toiletries bag under her arm, she headed for the bathroom. “All right if I go first?” she asked in her most efficient voice.

  “Be my guest.”

  She cleaned her teeth and changed, too tired to bother to remove the trace of makeup left on her face.

  Jack averted his eyes as she hurried across to the bed and slid under the covers. “Turn off the light,” he said. “I’ll find my way to bed in the dark.”

  Melanie waited for Jack to enter the bathroom and close the door before she clicked off the light. She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling, willing the aching weariness to pull her into sleep. Perversely, she suddenly felt more awake than she had all day.

  At first, the darkness seemed absolute. As her eyes adjusted, she found she could see quite well by the thin slivers of light leaking into the room through gaps in the wooden shutters.

  She turned to face away from Jack’s side of the bed and closed her eyes. Her eyelids didn’t want to stay down. She fought the urge to let her eyes open and concentrated on breathing evenly. It would only take her a few minutes to fall asleep. By the time Jack finished in the bathroom, she’d be out for the count. If she weren’t, then she’d pretend.

  The bathroom door creaked open. The bedroom was momentarily illuminated before he killed the bathroom light. All was silent until she heard him padding across the floor. The mattress dipped behind her and the covers pulled tight as he climbed in.

  Shivers skated up and down her spine, ending in a tingling ball in her tummy. Jack was in bed with her. The first man she’d shared a bed with since her husband five years ago.

  Once he settled, silence filled the room. Melanie concentrated on keeping her breathing shallow and even. If she breathed as if she were asleep, maybe it would induce sleep.

  Every nerve in her body tingled. Little pulse points under her skin kicked into action, beating with her heart. The image of him lying a scant few inches away wouldn’t leave her head. Maybe if she distracted herself with more mundane thoughts, she could forget he was there. She thought about collecting Ryan from her grandmother’s and what she needed to do when they returned to the hotel. That worked for a few minutes before her traitorous brain snapped back to images of the man behind her.

  She backtracked over the events of the day and remembered she had forgotten to tell Jack that the Ferrari was still at the villa. What a shame they wouldn’t get to ride back along the beautiful coast road in the sports car. Marco had certainly spoiled their lovely weekend. Marco!

  Had anyone told Marco what happened to Imelda? Had anyone even told him they were all leaving? He’d flown over with Imelda and was due to fly back with her. He might be a love rat, or maybe just a rat, but he must have heard the ambulance siren and worried when they all disappeared.

  She rolled onto her back and took a peek at Jack. In the dim light, she could see his eyes were closed, but his breathing sounded uneven. “Jack,” she whispered. He opened his eyes and looked at her. “We forgot to tell Marco what happened to Imelda.”

  Jack made a noise of disgust and threw a forearm over his face. “You disturbed me to talk about Marco.”

  “He’ll be worried about your mother.”

  “I don’t give a damn. Let him worry. This isn’t the first time he’s done this to her. Plus he always chooses beautiful women to do it with. That waitress he picked up looked like a supermodel.”

  Something suspiciously like jealousy burned through Melanie. “Does it really matter what she lo
oked like?” After the words were out, she regretted the bite to her voice, but it was too late to take it back.

  He lifted his arm and squinted at her in the dark. “Only in as much as it makes my mother feel even more insecure. She worries enough about getting old and losing her looks.”

  Melanie leaned towards him, determined to make her point. “We’ll have to tell Marco. Even if he is a rat, he’ll still be worried.”

  “Oh, Mel.” Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

  “What?”

  “The bed thing.”

  “Oh.” For a moment, she’d forgotten where they were. She was so used to spending time with Jack that being in bed with him did not feel as strange as it should. She slid back and pulled the sheet up to her shoulders. “Sorry.”

  “This has been a difficult day. Every time I close my eyes, I see my mother in that hospital bed. She’s okay this time, but what will happen next time Marco upsets her.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

  Melanie longed to touch him, comfort him. She gripped her pillow instead.

  “You remind me of her, you know,” Jack said. Melanie’s shock at his revelation must have shown on her face, because he added quickly, “In a good way. I was all she had, like Ryan is all you have. She did so much for me. If it hadn’t been for her encouragement, I wouldn’t have followed my dream and tried out for the local football team. My friends had mothers who pushed them towards law or medicine or something equally worthy. Yet Imelda listened to me. She let me do what was important to me. At the time I didn’t appreciate her.”

  Melanie thought of how her own mother had turned her back on her when she needed her most, and was grateful that Jack’s mother had been there for him when his life had gone wrong. “She’s a strong woman, Jack. I’m sure she’ll get over this Marco thing soon and move on.”

  “I hope so.”

  Her hand instinctively went out to give comfort, just as she had earlier. When her fingers landed on Jack’s bare skin, she felt as though she were caught in a dream. Her fingers lingered against his shoulder, slid across firm muscle to the prickle of stubble on his jaw. Her insides melted, her skin going tight and tingly. In this unfamiliar bed in a nameless hotel, it would be so easy to give in to desire. But in the cold light of day, she’d have to deal with the consequences.

  Jack made a strangled sound and captured her wandering hand in his. “If you touch me like this in bed, you had better mean it.”

  “Jack…” She bit her lip.

  “No. I didn’t think so.” With a tortured sigh, he turned away and slid out of bed. The pale light limned the planes and angles of his body as he pulled on his trousers and shirt. “I’m going out for a while. You go to sleep.”

  She longed to call him back as he headed out the door, but her good sense won out.

  * * *

  Jack sat on a stone bollard outside the hotel and welcomed the chill breeze blowing down from the foothills of Mount Vesuvius. He needed something to cool his blood. What a stupid idea it had been for them to share the room. When he discovered the hotel only had two rooms he should have taken the sensible option and volunteered to sleep in the car.

  He closed his eyes, drugged with exhaustion after the day’s events. Immediately his mind conjured an image of Melanie as he’d left her alone in the bed, her chestnut hair spread across the pillow. He sighed and dragged his hand across his face.

  Removing himself from temptation had been the right decision. If he’d given in to it, he knew exactly what would have happened in the morning. She’d have looked him in the face just long enough to tell him she’d made a mistake. The trust between them would have been gone and their friendship ruined.

  He needed to talk to her and tell her how he felt before they took things further. But he was still worried she’d push him away. She had an invisible wall as tough as reinforced cement protecting her heart. If only she’d confide in him, maybe they could work through what troubled her. But every little detail he learned about her past was hard won.

  Jack shivered in the wind as he looked up at the hospital windows reflecting the dull glow of light pollution from the city. Somewhere behind one of those windows, his mother lay sleeping.

  He’d told Melanie that she was like his mother and it was true—in more ways than he’d admitted. Both women had been hurt by their husbands. But where his mother dealt with the hurt by dating a string of unsuitable men, never allowing herself the chance of finding another stable relationship, Melanie chose the opposite tactic. She’d cut romance from her life completely.

  Over the past few months his feelings for her had grown, and he’d waited patiently for her to open up to him, with little success. The time had come for him to prompt her, to start asking questions. One way or another, he had to uncover what troubled her and help her deal with it. Or she would never move on.

  * * *

  When Melanie woke the next morning, she was alone in the hotel room. She laid a hand on the wrinkled surface of Jack’s pillow and found it cold. Did that mean he hadn’t returned to bed? If he hadn’t, where had he slept? After the stress of his mother being rushed to the hospital, he must have been exhausted, poor man. She shouldn’t have worried about Marco last night when he really didn’t deserve her concern. She should have let Jack sleep.

  Once she got up, she noticed that all Jack’s clothes were missing and his toiletries were not in the bathroom. She showered and packed quickly, trying to focus on the prospect of seeing Ryan later that day, rather than dwell on what Jack thought of her.

  When she was nearly ready to leave the room, a knock sounded on the door. She opened it to find Jack waiting outside, looking a little tired and crumpled in a button-down shirt and jeans, but still gorgeous enough to make her heart skip. Flustered, she fumbled the makeup bag in her hand and the contents scattered across the floor. She crouched to pick things up and, flipping her hair from her eyes, glanced up at him.

  “You seem a little jittery.” He gathered up a lipstick and a couple of eye shadows that had landed in the hallway. “How did you sleep?”

  “Fine, fine.” Rather than look at Jack and remember the feel of his warm skin when they were in bed, Melanie gave the floor a once-over and zipped her bag closed. “What about you?”

  “I managed.” He leaned a hip against the chest of drawers as she did a last check under the bed and in the bathroom.

  Nothing had happened between them, yet she was behaving like a guilty teenager. She halted her frantic activity, drew a calming breath and made herself look at him. “Where did you sleep?”

  He walked to the window and stared towards the hospital. “On one of the chairs in the reception area downstairs.”

  “Oh, Jack. You should have come back here.”

  He shrugged. “I can sleep on the plane. Anyway, we’ll be home later. By the way, sounds like you were right about Marco.”

  “In what way?”

  “Pip emailed me this morning. According to her, Marco was beside himself when we all disappeared yesterday. Pip said he was in tears. He reckoned the waitress came on to him.” Jack leaned a hand against the window frame and let his head hang. “I think I’m losing my senses. I gather you left the Ferrari keys with Pip so I suggested Marco drive the car back to Naples and meet us at the airport in time for the flight.”

  “You’ve got a soft heart.”

  He laughed incredulously. “More likely I’m soft in the head.
I hope it’s the best thing for my mother.”

  Melanie wandered across to join him at the window and stared at the gritty dirt gathered in the corners of the glass.

  “Was it worry about your husband’s drinking that drove you to use sleeping tablets?” Jack’s soft inquiry came out of the blue and froze her. She flexed her fingers against her side, curling them into a fist. When she didn’t answer, he continued in a gentle voice. “Remember you told me that your husband’s accident was due to drunk driving.”

  Melanie turned her back on Jack. “I don’t want to talk about this now. Wait until we get home.” She was too weary and stressed after the events of the last twenty-four hours to tackle a confession of her past and Jack’s reaction.

  “Mel.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. She stepped away from his touch as the guilt she’d forced down into the depths of her memory threatened to rise. She wanted to confide in Jack, tell him what had happened and how she felt. He deserved to know.

  But not now. Not yet.

  “Don’t shut me out. Talk to me,” he whispered.

  She imagined the look on his face when he discovered what her husband had done, what she’d driven him to do, because she was too blind to see what the man she thought she knew and loved was capable of. In the village where they lived, people had whispered as she went past, How could his wife have not known?

  The nearness of Jack’s body warmed her back. He was close, too close. She didn’t want comfort. Didn’t deserve it. His arms started to circle her but she wasn’t ready to bare her soul to him, make herself vulnerable to him. She had so many worries crowding her mind that she couldn’t handle a relationship. Especially when it might all end in tears again.

  She ducked out of his embrace and pushed past him towards the door.

  “Mel?” Jack extended his palms in supplication. “Talk to me.”