She seriously felt like anything but, yet the words were still nice to hear. After an uneventful drop off at school (the subject of moving apparently relegated to unimportant clutter in his mind amidst looming Star Wars battles), Katie discovered she didn’t want to go back to Wadeford House. Not yet. Not on her own.
The local café was buzzing and she slipped inside, ordered a coffee and sat down at the back. What she needed was a quiet coffee to regroup and then she’d head home and start thinking about boxing their lives up for a move. Only a few minutes after getting her cappuccino, Katie’s best friend Angela walked in with Ryan Macaulay. Talk about bad timing.
“Hey, Kitty!” Angela smiled enthusiastically, latching arms with Ryan and walking over to the table. “What’s new?”
“Actually, I do have news.” She said, encompassing both of them in her smile. “I signed the contract. We’re moving.”
“Moving?” Ryan raised his eyebrows. “When?”
“In the next couple of weeks, once term ends.”
She saw Angela’s face react first with surprise and then pleasure. “I’m really happy for you, Kit. A change of pace will be good for you.”
Katie wasn’t so sure but she didn’t say so.
“Well, now you’ve finally got to give in and let me take you to dinner,” Ryan said with a cheeky smile. Katie was glad that he was reacting with light-hearted humor. It showed that his romantic persistence was little more than a bit of fun. She didn’t need to feel guilty for letting him down on top of all the other emotions swirling through her.
“Hmmm,” she winked at him over the rim of her cappuccino. “How about we all go for dinner at the pub tonight? Maxie’s got a school dance and is staying with a friend afterwards.”
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up around seven?”
She nodded. “This is not a date, Ryan.”
He rolled his eyes. “We’ll see how you feel at the end of it. Once you’ve been subjected to the full force of my charms!”
She laughed, and felt a slight improvement in her spirits.
At least the prospect of a night out with good friends gave her something to look forward to. She started boxing up precious family mementos first. The things she knew she would want to take with her, which she could send up ahead to store at Grandma Rose’s house while she looked for a new home for them.
It was slow work though. For everything she packed, there were two more things that she stopped to look at in detail. To remember with a smile or a tear. Maxie’s first drawings, which were really just unintelligible scribbles that he’d proudly proclaimed, “mama, cat, house”. The tiny little bracelet he’d worn in hospital when he’d been born, encircling a dear, fragile ankle. Out of nowhere, she felt a clutch of cluckiness, only the baby she imagined wasn’t another Maxie. It was half Katie Collins and half Marcus Harris. So real was the mental image her brain supplied that she sucked in a deep breath.
“That’s enough walking down memory lane for one day,” she said to herself, sealing up the box with packing tape and trudging it to a guest room to store for now. She’d cut it fine and barely had enough time to throw on a change of clothes. She rifled through her wardrobe, instinctively shying away from her favorite dress, because it was the dress she’d worn the first night she’d known Marcus. The dress he’d watched her slowly take off, right before they’d made love for the first time. She might as well burn it, for all the likelihood of her wanting to wear it in the future. She threw on a pair of jeans and a nice top, thinking a night at the pub called for a casual outfit anyway.
And, of course, because she was running late, Ryan was early. His knock at her door came almost twenty minutes ahead of time, and she grimaced as she walked downstairs. She could just imagine the excuses he’d come up with, all to wrangle an extra half hour and a drink in private before they met up with their circle of friends.
“You are…” she said with an attempt at a cross expression, as she yanked open the door. Only the word early died on her lips.
“Marcus.” She swallowed convulsively, and despite the freezing night, stepped out onto the landing, pulling the door shut behind her. She didn’t want to invite him in. She couldn’t. She looked him up and down, remembering the last time she’d seen him, and who she’d seen him with, and found it wasn’t hard to summon her hatred. “What are you doing here?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
He’d shaved since she’d seen him. Had it only been two days ago? Gone was the smell of stale cigarette smoke and copious amounts of alcohol. And other women. Damn it, he looked good. She hated that.
Behind her back, she gripped the house for support. She saw the way his eyes stared at her face, and she hated the way her body responded to it. Hated the way her nipples tautened against the silk blouse she wore. The way she felt her core heat up and moisten with need. Hated it all the more because now she could just picture how he’d been assuaging his lust, and who with.
“What do you want?” She asked, coldly.
“I want to talk to you.”
She lifted her chin. “Tough.”
“Katie, please…” he reached out and took her hand in his. “Please let me in.”
She shook her head so hard her dark hair whipped against her cheek, but she didn’t pull her hand out of his. She had needed him so much, that even this one small contact was like heaven. Her whole adult life, she’d judged her mum for loving a man who didn’t deserve it, and now here she was, in just the same boat exactly. Except, if anything, this man was so much worse than her father had been.
She closed her eyes. “You don’t have anything to say that I want to hear. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve said it all.” She blinked up at him then, and fixed him with her most accusing stare. “You’ve shown me just how much I meant to you.”
He lowered his head, shielding his eyes from her. “I understand you’re angry…”
“Angry!” She interrupted hotly. “Angry doesn’t even begin to explain how I feel!”
“But if you’re angry, then you must know it’s because you still care. If I meant nothing to you, why would you be so pissed off?”
“Because you lied! You lied to me, and my son, and you did it all to buy a stupid piece of land. You didn’t give a care in the world if I got caught up in it all, and ended up hurt. You only cared about yourself, and making even more money.”
Silence arced between them as he thought of his next move.
“Katie, I’m not used to begging. I know your pride was hurt by seeing me with Cherie. But I also know you want to hear what I’ve got to say. You’re going through the motions of being angry with me so you don’t feel like you’ve let me off the hook too easily. Right?”
She gaped at him. Sure, it had a ring of truth, but it also smacked of an arrogance she hadn’t thought David Trent capable of. Marcus Harris was, apparently, a different kettle of fish.
“How bloody dare you.” She pushed open the door and went to slam it shut, only he was right behind her, and he caught its impact on his forearm.
“I know you, Katie. I know every single inch of you, and I know that I’m right.”
She swallowed convulsively. “Don’t remind me.”
“If that’s what it takes, I damned well will remind you.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes flew wide as she watched him cross the timber floor, like a panther seeking its prey. And she was incapable of movement.
He placed his big, callused hands on either side of her face and held her trapped, lancing her with his eyes. He lowered his head, and the small part of her brain that told her to pull away was silenced by the rest of her that was desperately, hungrily craving his nearness.
When his lips touched hers, there was nothing calm about it. This was a kiss of passion and anger. Resentment and pain. She kissed him back, showing him with her body how hurt she was, how sad she was, how mad she was.
She groaned low in her throat as his tongue invaded her moist mouth, laced with sensual promise.
“Katie,” he said hungrily, running his hands through her hair.
But she couldn’t do it. “NO!” She shoved him with all her strength, feeling a sense of satisfaction when she saw how much she’d surprised him. “You dare come here and try to do that… after you’ve been with… God. I don’t know. Cherie and whoever knows how many others. No.” She pulled herself up straight. “I thought I loved you, but I was wrong. How could I ever love you after what you’ve done?”
Marcus stifled an oath. He had been so sure he’d be able to get through to her. He hadn’t factored in just how badly he’d cocked up. He wanted to do this right, but he had to address things in the order they’d offended her. “Katie, I haven’t slept with anyone since you.”
Hope flickered briefly in her gut, but it was quickly extinguished. She shook her head sadly. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m not lying to you.” He grimaced awkwardly. “I wanted to. After I left here, I wanted nothing more than to get you out of my head, the only way I knew how. I went to bars, I picked up women, but when it came to the crunch, well…” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to be with anyone else.”
She couldn’t help the sob that escaped from her. “But if I hadn’t shown up when I did, no doubt the lovely Cherie would have twisted your arm…”
“No. We would have passed out. You saw me. Do you really think I was in any state to make love to a woman?”
“Stop!” She held up a hand. “Do you understand that I don’t want to hear about you and other women?”
“Because you still care about me?”
“Because I thought I cared about you.”
“Everything we shared was real, Katie. What the hell difference does my name make?”
“It’s not just your name and you know it. You used me! You used what I felt for you to get me to sell Wadeford House to you.”
He slammed his fist against the back of the sofa. “Think about it logically. I am a rich man. Why would I seduce you just to buy this crummy house?” He winced. “I’m sorry, but you must admit, it seems a bit fanciful.”
She bit down on her lip. “Not to me it doesn’t. It makes perfect sense.”
He closed his eyes. He opened his mouth to say the most important thing he’d ever said in his whole life, but before he could even mouth the first word, there was another knock at the door.
“Oh, shoot,” she swore, running her hands through her hair to return a semblance of order. She shot him a fulminating glare as she crossed the room and pulled the door open again.
“Hey babes. Woah, you look positively gor-geous.” Ryan observed with a low whistle. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he winked, cheekily. Katie was not in the mood.
“You have a date?” Marcus’s voice was devoid of any emotion, and yet when she turned to him, he thought she almost looked guilty.
“So what if I do? Did you think I’d put my life on hold indefinitely while you whored your way around England?”
He recoiled at her words. The other man was one of those film-star good looking guys. Blonde hair, tanned skin, blue eyes, muscular, dressed like the missing member of a popular boy band, and shiny shoes and trendily torn jeans. Marcus couldn’t help smirking, and Katie, looking at him now, could see why. Where Marcus was six feet four of all-man strength and maturity, Ryan looked a little childish in comparison. But Ryan was just a friend, after all, and she felt a tug of loyalty to him.
“I trust you’ll be gone by the time I return?”
“Do you?”
“You’d better be.” Her eyes flashed with pained warning, and he knew it was her self-preservation talking. That she was terrified by what was happening between them, and what she thought him capable of.
Ryan had the good sense to stay quiet in the argument he didn’t understand at all.
“If you think I’m leaving it at that, you’ve got another thing coming. Besides, I’m here for a few days, working on the golf course.”
“You don’t think you’re going to be staying here, surely?”
“No.”
“Then for God’s sake, get out and don’t bother me again.” She looked up at Ryan, but all pleasure she’d anticipated in the night had been sucked out of her. Ryan put an arm around her shoulders, noting how she shook like a trembling little leaf, as he pulled the door shut behind them.
“Friend of yours?” He said, a moment later, as his car coasted up the hill towards the town.
She grimaced. “You could say that.”
“I always thought you weren’t interested in dating. Now I see it was just me.”
She put a hand on his knee. “I’m sorry, Ryan. I wish it had been you. As you can see, Marcus is a first rate jerk. I wish I didn’t love him, but you can’t help stuff like that, can you?”
“You do love him?”
Her eyes widened as she realized what she’d said. “No. I don’t. I can’t. I mean, I thought I did but… Oh, hell. I don’t know. Let’s go share a wine and forget all about him.”
Which was absolutely easier said than done. She tried to join in the laughing and the talking, but her brain was filled with a Marcus fog. On a point of pride though, she made it until last drinks were called at midnight before she caught a lift home with a friend. Ryan had ungallantly seen the writing on the wall and changed the direction of his affections, transferring them easily to a pretty Dutch barmaid who’d just backpacked into town a few weeks earlier.
As she approached the front door to her house, she felt completely mixed up. She wanted him to be inside. She really did. But she couldn’t want that. She should want to never see him again. If she’d been thinking straight, she would have thought to check for his car, but she wasn’t. She hadn’t thought straight since she’d met him.
The lounge room was engulfed in darkness, and she felt her heart drop at the realization that he had left. Obviously it hadn’t mattered that much after all, sorting everything out with her. She clunked her handbag down on the coffee table and moved towards the kitchen, stubbing her toe on something unfamiliar in the middle of the floor. “Damn and blast,” she cursed, reaching across and flicking on a coffee table lamp. Then, her breath died in her throat, as she saw Marcus.
He was fast asleep, dead to the world, one arm flung carelessly above his head, the other wrapped across his chest. His shirt had ridden up a little to expose his tanned midriff and flat abs, and she felt desire ignite inside of her. His suitcase was in the middle of the floor. That’s what she’d tripped on.
She was so mad at him she could have slapped him, but the greater temptation was to kiss him. She knelt down in front of him, hardly daring to breathe, and smiled at how perfectly calm he was in sleep. Without any intention of doing so, she lifted her fingers to his face, and traced a line down his cheek, sighing because finally she was touching him again.
Marcus was back in Iraq, with the hot blade of the knife pressed against his cheek. He acted on instinct and reached out, ensnaring his captor’s wrists in his own and pinning him to the hard, cement floor. He raised his hand to punch down on the bastard’s face.
“STOP!” Her scream was panicked, high pitched, frantic enough to penetrate even his sleep addled brain. His breath was torn from his chest as he came to and looked around the unfamiliar room. Wadeford House. He was back in Cornwall. And he’d been just about to attack Katie.
“Jesus, Katie, I’m so sorry.” He pushed up from the ground, and ran his hands down his jeans before leaning forward and offering her a hand to help her up. A hand she wisely ignored. Her eyes didn’t quite meet his.
“I think it’s time you told me about Iraq. Don’t you?”
He nodded, dragging his hand across his eyes. “I can’t believe I almost…”
“Stop.” She held a finger up to his lips to silence him. “You didn’t. You wouldn’t.”
He closed his eyes, wishing he could believe her. “I was having a nightmare. I was…disorientated.”
She sat down on the sofa and patted the spot
beside her. He took it, and hung his head forward, over his knees. Not looking at her, he began to speak. “After Veronica and I divorced, I started taking on more and more dangerous assignments. It wasn’t that I was torn up over our marriage. That never really had legs. But the baby… I couldn’t believe she’d had an abortion just to keep her figure. I was tormented by thoughts of that baby. Wondering what she or he would have been like. And I didn’t really care if I lived or died. So I pushed aggressively for projects in high-return areas that most companies with any sense steered clear of. Iraq was one of our biggest money earners, because we were great at our job and we didn’t have a lot of competition.”
He sucked in a deep breath and sat back in the sofa now, but continued to stare anywhere but at her. “I travelled back and forth, for about four years. We were nearing the end of our biggest project. Bryan had come out to inspect it. I didn’t know it at the time, but he’d fielded an inquiry and he hadn’t done his vetting properly. I think he’d been lured in by the prospect of building an enormous medical centre. The profit margin was too good to be true- which should have been a tip off. But he never told me any of that.” He groaned, slapping his palm against his knee in frustration. “And I didn’t ask. He kept talking about this meeting, and I just thought it was something to do with the work we already had on our plate.
“We walked into the building and I knew straight away something was wrong. Ten guys barreled us up and stripped us of our phones. They kept us in a basement for almost a week.” He looked at her now, a wry grimace tilting his lips. “They were not the most hospitable of men.”
“Did they hurt you?” She whispered, eyes wide, and her fingers unconsciously came to press against his chest, where she knew his scar was.
“Yes.” He said quietly. “I managed to get the ropes off, but it was too late for Bryan.”
She shuddered. “That must have been… I can’t even … I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry you went through that.”
He nodded. “It messed me up, Katie. Before that, I was cocky. I thought I was infallible. And then, all of a sudden, I realized how wrong I was. I was weak. And powerless to save my best friend.”
A Bed of Broken Promises Page 13
