by Susan Fox
But I had. And now, could I ever again look at him as just a friend?
No, but I’d have to try. Anything was better than losing him completely.
“Kat, are you okay?” Sam’s low voice broke into my thoughts.
I realized I was surrounded by people who were laughing and telling jokes, the kind of party I usually enjoyed. “I’m fine. I just have something on my mind.”
“Want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps to get a fresh perspective.”
Perspective. I remembered that Nav had titled his exhibit “Perspectives on Perspective.”
“Uh, no, Sam, but thanks.”
This trip had certainly shown me some different perspectives. I had a new understanding of myself, my family, and Nav.
I couldn’t deceive him. Even if it would be easier for both of us, I couldn’t be dishonest with the man I loved.
In the past couple of days I’d learned that I’d spent a good part of my life hiding behind a self-protective façade. Now it was time to have the guts to face the truth.
But I didn’t feel brave, I was scared shitless. I drew in a shaky breath.
Could we really remain friends if I told him the truth? Could we if I didn’t?
“Kat, just go talk to him.”
“Huh?” I stared at Sam. “Who?”
“Your boyfriend.”
If only he was. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Sure looked like it to me. Look, I’m a writer. I observe people. I saw the connection between the two of you. Now you’re feeling like crap, and I bet he is, too.”
Was he? Yes, I knew it was true.
“He tried to talk to you,” Sam said, “and you walked away. It’s your turn.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You’ll figure it out as you go along. Just speak from your heart.”
Could I?
He gave me an understanding smile. “The screen directions say, ‘Kat rises and walks toward the exit.’”
I rose, legs shaking and stomach queasy. “Thank you. I think.”
Chapter 19
Nav sat in lonely splendor in his fancy romance compartment, staring out the window at amazing mountain scenery.
Kat was off trying to cheer herself up with that ever-present screenwriter and the boisterous Aussies. Nav’s preference was to retreat and lick his wounds in private.
And he felt plenty wounded.
He’d told her he loved her, and she’d responded with that damned friendship crap again. Then, when he’d gone to look for her, she’d been in the dining car chatting away with that damned screenwriter. And when he’d asked her to talk to him, she’d refused. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
Occasionally he picked up his camera to take a picture of a spectacular view, a tumbling waterfall, but he was shooting shit. His heart wasn’t in it.
Besides, the camera reminded him of the incredible pictures he’d taken of Kat as she stripped so sensually.
He wouldn’t look at them now. It felt like an invasion of her privacy. In her crazy mind, she hadn’t been stripping for him, Nav, she’d been doing it for a stranger who didn’t exist.
And it was his own damned fault for setting up the whole stupid game.
He should delete the pictures, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that, either. It would be like an admission that he’d failed.
Depressed as he was, he hadn’t reached that point yet.
Damn it, she’d called his name when she climaxed. Even if she didn’t want to acknowledge it, she’d been making love with him.
He’d told her he loved her. Where the hell did he go from here? He was out of ideas.
“Fuck!” He wished he could go for a run. For miles and miles. Try to burn some of this tension out of his body.
When they reached Vancouver, he should probably catch a flight back to Montreal. Concentrate on his exhibit. Wait for her to return after the wedding, then see where things stood.
But that didn’t feel right. He’d spent the past two years living according to her agenda. Being passive.
Until he had his brilliant idea and took action.
All the same, he didn’t regret what he’d done. He’d taken a risk, and there was a slim chance it might still pay off.
And anything was better than being stuck in good-buddy limbo.
A soft knock sounded on his door.
He jerked to his feet and flung the door open. “Kat.” Relief surged through him so forcefully he had to grip the doorframe to keep his balance. “I’m glad you came.”
She stepped past him into the room, head down, subdued. “You were right about us needing to talk.” She sat on the edge of the chair and darted a quick glance up at him. “But you know me, I’m better at avoidance than dealing with the tough stuff.”
“You’re here now.” He sat on the bed across from her, realizing they were in the same positions as when they’d talked this morning.
Would she acknowledge that he’d told her he loved her? Or was she trying to pretend he’d meant it as a friend?
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, staring down at her jean-clad knees. “And I realized something, and I need to tell you. It’s…hard, but I have to.” She swallowed. “I’m counting on what you said about always being my friend. Even if I…Even if something changes. Something, uh, kind of big.”
What was she talking about? They’d talked about each of them getting married. What was bigger than that? “Kat, I’ll always be your friend. No matter what.”
She gazed up at him again, and now her expression was fierce. “Damn, I wish things didn’t have to change. I liked how we were before.”
He sighed. “I didn’t. I needed a change.” Couldn’t she understand how much it had hurt to love her and be treated like a buddy?
“Oh.” She sounded startled. “I didn’t realize.”
“I kept watching you fall for those guys.” He shook his head.
“Fall for them.” Her lips twisted in a grimace. “Looking back, I realize I was into the excitement, but it was never real. Never l-love.” She faltered over the word. “I didn’t really commit to them,” she said. “When things got rough, I bailed—or accepted being dumped—rather than work on the problems. And afterward, it wasn’t so much the men themselves I missed, it was the idea of love and marriage.”
He was glad she’d come to see that, but still didn’t have a clue about this “big” thing she wanted to tell him.
“All through those relationships,” she went on, “our friendship was what gave my life stability. Warmth.”
She took a breath, let it out. “Nav, when I moved into our building, I was saving to buy a condo. I’d accumulated plenty for a down payment long ago, but I never went house hunting. By then, the apartment felt like home. Because you were there.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I relied on you, cared about you, but I didn’t really see you.” She gave a small laugh. “I didn’t see myself, either, not until this trip. The last few days have opened my eyes to…”
A spark of hope ignited. “To what, Kat?”
She gazed at him, biting her lip. Then she reached out and took the sleeve of his sweater between her thumb and forefinger, shook it gently, and let go. “I always knew you had a great body, but look at you now. You look incredible, Nav.”
“Uh, thanks. And you were right about the image thing. I overreacted to the ‘judge by appearances’ snobbery I grew up with. It’s not so bad, wearing nice clothes and looking good. Guess maybe I have some vanity after all.”
Her lips curved a little. “Don’t throw out those old Cambridge jerseys, though. They’re kind of sexy.”
“Oh, yeah?” He grinned at her.
She smiled back, then her face tensed.
He took her hand and gripped it firmly. “You can tell me anything. Just get it over with.” He took a breath then—what the hell—said it. “I’ll still love you.”
Her hand jerked in his. Sh
e stared down at their clasped hands and said, so softly he could barely hear, “Well, the thing is, I love you. I mean…really. Not just as a friend but the way a woman loves a man.”
Was she saying…? Or had he misheard, out of desperate longing? “Kat?”
She lifted her head slowly and gazed at him, face open and vulnerable. “That’s how I know I didn’t love those other men. What I felt for them was nothing compared to this.”
Oh, my God. She meant it. His heart expanded so full it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Emotion clogged his throat so he could barely croak out, “Kat, I—”
“No, stop, I haven’t finished. I want to say I’m sorry. I know we set up this strangers-on-a-train thing with the rule that we’d go back to the way we were. I tried, I really tried to keep it light and sexy, to think of you as Pritam or Dhiraj, but in the end I couldn’t.”
She loved him. He was so stunned, so blindsided by shock and sheer joy, all he could do was listen.
“All the time,” she said in a ragged voice, “I was seeing more sides of you. And they were you, Nav, not those other guys. And I kept falling harder and deeper. When we set up the game, I never expected that to happen, and I tried to resist it, tried to deny it, but I couldn’t. And now I’ve messed things up, and I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes were filling. “You’re the most important person in the world to me, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you, so can we please, please, find some way of—”
“Kat!” Finally he found his voice. “I love you, too. Love you the way you’re talking about. I’m crazy about you. I want you more than any other woman I’ve ever met, or ever will meet.”
“…You do?”
If he hadn’t been so overwhelmed with amazement and joy, the baffled expression on her face would have made him laugh. “I told you last night, but I guess you didn’t understand what I meant. I’ve been falling in love with you ever since we met. I tried not to. Tried dating other women. But I couldn’t help it. That’s the reason for this whole strangers game. I had to get you past the ‘just friends’ thing, so you’d really see me.”
“You love me?” She still looked confused, but her eyes had brightened as if it was starting to sink in.
He pulled her forward into an awkward hug. “I, Naveen Bharani, love you, Kat Fallon.”
Her arms went around him and squeezed hard. “But…I thought you only wanted to be friends. Isn’t that what you said when you were playing Pritam?”
“I figured it was the only way to get you to buy into the game. You were always so adamant about not risking our friendship.” Now he realized that she’d seen him as a player, a man who didn’t believe in marriage, and of course that would have put her off, too.
She pulled back a little and stared at him. “What? You wanted me to really see you, so you pretended to be a stranger? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It worked, though.” He cradled her face between his hands. “Kat, say it again. I’ve waited so long to hear it.”
She gazed into his eyes, expression tender and loving. “I love you, Nav. I’ve finally learned how to love, because you taught me.”
“And I love you. Because, once I got to know you, I had no other option.”
Her lips twitched. “But you told me you were looking for the perfect woman.”
“I’d found you. I was waiting for you to find me.”
She ducked her head. “I’m hardly perfect.”
“You’re perfect for me. You’re wonderful and lovable.” He traced the outline of her lips with his finger.
Then he kissed her. The woman he loved and had finally won.
He kissed her gently, tenderly, with all the love and reverence and gratitude in his heart. She kissed him back the same way, lips trembling. Salty kisses. She was crying, and he realized his own eyes were damp.
“I want to make love with you,” he told her. “You and me, Nav and Kat. I want to hear you call my name when you come.” He rose on shaky legs, then pulled her to her feet, into a quick, warm embrace.
Fingers clumsy with awe and need, he pulled off her T-shirt, unzipped her jeans, and freed her of every item of clothing except a pair of pink panties. After pausing to admire her, he peeled them off, too, wanting nothing between them.
He tugged her into his arms again, holding her close for another kiss.
She squirmed free. “My turn.” She pulled up the bottom of his sweater, leaving him to finish taking it off as she went to work on the fastenings of his jeans. “I love your new clothes, but you look—and feel—so much better without them.”
When she’d stripped him, they just stood there looking at each other for a long moment. Naked together. That’s how it felt. Not only their bodies, but their hearts and souls were open to each other.
He pulled back the covers on the bed, and silently they lay down, side by side, facing each other.
“I feel nervous,” she said, a catch in her voice. “It’s our first time.”
The first time they would make love with both of them knowing, fully, that that was what they were doing. “I know.”
He didn’t feel at all anxious. “Don’t worry. We have lots and lots of time. If we don’t get it right the first time, we’ll just have to try again.”
As he’d hoped, that won him a small chuckle. “Then maybe it would be good if we didn’t get it right the first time.”
Propped up on one elbow, he stroked her arm, the curve of her hip, the soft fullness of her breasts. “You’re beautiful, Kat. All I want is to make you happy.”
Her hand gripped his erection. “All?” she teased.
“Okay, maybe I lied.”
As he continued to caress her, her nipples tightened. Noticing and appreciating everything about her, he let his fingers speak for him.
She explored his body the same way, almost as if she’d never seen it before.
When he stroked his hand down her belly, she shifted to let him slide between her legs, where she was moist with need.
Her body twisted restlessly against his hand, telling him she was close to climaxing. “No, wait,” she panted. “Nav, I want you inside me. I want us to come together.”
Need raced through him, hardening him so much it hurt.
With a firm hand on her shoulder, he rolled her onto her back. Her knees came up, legs parted in an invitation he lost no time in accepting. As he sheathed himself, a thought struck him.
He leaned forward, dropped a kiss on her lips, then whispered, “One day, I want to make a baby with you.”
The moment he said the words, he wished he could call them back. Not because he didn’t mean them but because he feared that, if he rushed her, he might lose her.
Her breath caught and she stared at him, then her eyes brightened, moistened. “Oh, yes. We’ll make beautiful, wonderful babies.”
The thought was so powerfully emotional, he surged inside her in one deep plunge that made them both cry out.
With her sheath gripping him, her arms around him, more words popped from between his lips. “Kat, will you marry me?”
Her mouth opened in surprise. “Nav, do you mean it?”
It was too much for her, too fast. But he couldn’t call the words back, and he meant them with all his heart. “More than anything.” If he’d planned this moment, he’d have arranged a romantic setting, a bottle of champagne. A ring.
Wait, at least he had one of those. Awkwardly he shifted his weight and managed to pull the diamond ring off his finger while she watched, looking stunned.
Then, still lodged deep in her core, bracing his weight on one elbow, he held out the ring. “We can pick out another one later, but this’ll do for now.”
Remembering the words she’d used when she’d talked about the most romantic gift a man could give her, he spoke the truth. “Kat, I love you, heart and soul. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
She stared at the ring, eyes wet an
d wide with surprise, then at his face.
He felt as if she was peering deep inside him, and into her own heart at the same time. Did she realize, as he did, how utterly right it was for the two of them to be together?
Her lips parted and he held his breath.
“Nav,” she whispered, as if she could hardly believe what was happening. “Yes, oh, yes. I love you.” The tears overflowed and streamed down her cheeks.
He kissed her through the tears, with love and passion mingling, then slipped the ring onto her finger.
Then he kissed her again and began to thrust into her.
He was making love with his fiancée, Kat.
He had to move faster, deeper, letting his body tell her with every stroke how much he loved her.
She wrapped her legs and arms around him, clinging tight, lifting her hips and matching his rhythm. Her internal muscles gripped him, the delicious stimulation making him struggle to hold back his climax.
Their lips clung together, kissing, panting for breath, making wordless sounds.
He angled his strokes to rub her G-spot and her body clutched; she caught her breath. Then, “Nav, oh, God, Nav, now! Come with me now.”
“Yes!” He stopped holding back, gave himself over to the heady rush of arousal and emotion, and let go with wild, hard strokes that wrenched an orgasm from deep inside him and poured it into her. “Kat, I love you.”
“I love you, Nav,” she cried as her body came apart around him.
They clung together through shuddering spasms of pleasure that went on and on.
Long moments later, he rolled them so they were back on their sides.
She smiled at him, then studied the ring, loose on her slim finger. “Engaged. I can’t believe it.”
“Nor can I.” He prayed she wouldn’t change her mind. “How about a glass of bubbly to seal the deal?”
“Definitely.”
Nav disentangled himself and rose. His sleeping car attendant was great about keeping the ice bucket stocked—possibly due to the size of Nav’s tips, but more likely because of the man’s pride in his job.
He held up a bottle of Canadian bubbly. “It’s not French champagne, but, like the ring, it’ll do until we can get something better. I’m afraid I didn’t come prepared.” Even in his wildest dreams, he hadn’t imagined proposing to her on the train.
