by Karina Bliss
“Actually it was a terrible moment,” Jo continued. “My health was uncertain, so was my fertility and I’d already decided I couldn’t marry him.” Struggling with survivor’s guilt, Dan had organized their wedding without Jo’s consent.
“But he talked you into it?”
“He wore me down. I realized he wasn’t going to go away, but more important, I realized he needed me as much as I needed him…. Sometimes you’re destined to save each other.” She smiled at Claire with way more comprehension than she could handle. Nervously, Claire sipped her champagne.
Jo took pity on her. “’Course, it was one-sided for Viv and Ross,” she said loudly as the couple returned to the table. “She did all the saving. I like to think of my sister-in-law as a little yellow bulldozer reducing the iceberg to rubble.”
Claire laughed. Ross and Jo liked nothing better than winding each other up.
“Very droll,” he said, pulling out Viv’s chair.
“Little pieces of rubble,” Viv agreed, planting a kiss on his lips before sitting down.
“Brave words from someone too chicken to set a wedding date.”
“I’ll marry you next time Nate comes home,” said Viv.
Returning from the bar with a tray of drinks, Nate nearly dropped it.
Ross looked at him with spaniel eyes. Hell, Dan was right. His bubbly little sister was diabolical. And not just Viv. Dan, Ross and Jo had spent the whole evening trying to pin him down to a return date.
“Nice try,” he said in a tone even Ross knew not to argue with.
“C’mon, babe.” Ice pulled his fiancee out of her chair again. “They’re playing our song.” And dragged her, protesting, onto the dance floor.
Nate took his seat at the other end of the table from Claire and Jo and brooded over a scotch. Dan sat down next to him five minutes later. “Why don’t you ask Claire to dance?”
He wasn’t in the mood. “Leave it, Shep.”
“Then take your turn dancing with Jules. She’s finding tonight hard.”
Nate looked across the table at Jules, recognized a kindred spirit and stood. Turned to Dan.
“Yeah,” his buddy said. “I’ll dance with Claire.”
“I’ve only just sat down,” Jules protested when he asked her.
“Please don’t turn me down,” said Nate. “Everyone’s watching.”
She laughed. “Fine, I’ll take pity on you.” He spun her around the floor and discovered she had some skill. Lee had liked to dance; those two would have been something to see.
The music changed to a slow tempo. To Nate’s surprise Jules pulled him close, glancing over her shoulder to check Ross and Viv’s proximity. Locked in each other’s arms, four feet away, they were completely oblivious.
“What the hell are you doing walking away from Claire when you’re in love with her?” Nate was so startled he stopped dancing. Another couple swung into them. “Sorry.” He began moving again. “I don’t…” He couldn’t lie about loving Claire. “Look, this isn’t something I’m comfortable discussing with you.”
“It’s obvious she returns your feelings and yet you’re burning her off.”
He remained silent. This was none of her business.
Jules gave him an impatient shake. “I’m not backing down, Nate,” she said in a loud voice.
Frowning, he steered them to the far corner of the dance floor. “She’s making a new life,” he said. “I come with baggage from her past that maybe she needs to leave behind.” He wasn’t articulating this very well. “Right now she’s vulnerable and I’m another complication.”
“Ellie’s been giving her two cents’ worth,” she said astutely. “Steve’s mother is a wonderful woman, but she has a problem with transference. It’s Ellie who’s feeling vulnerable, not Claire.”
“Six months to a year for things to settle,” Nate said, guiding her off the dance floor before she could talk him into doing something he shouldn’t. “Then I’ll come back.”
She stopped him as he turned toward their party. “Because there’s always tomorrow?” she challenged. “We both know that’s not always true. There’s only today to tell someone you love them, to put aside your fears and prejudices and neuroses and defense mechanisms, Nate.”
Her grip had tightened on his forearm. He removed her hand and cupped it between his own. “I’m so damn sorry you won’t get a life with Lee. He was…” Words failed him. How did you encapsulate a man who’d always been larger than life?
“A one-off,” she finished for him. “Don’t set yourself up for regrets, Nate. Don’t ever miss an opportunity through—” She stopped. Forced a smile. “Now I’m doing the transference thing. I’ll shut up.”
He hugged her. It was easier than words. But she hadn’t changed his mind. What Ellie said had struck a chord because they echoed his own doubts.
“I’ll keep in touch this time,” he said. “I promise.”
* * *
“Nate’s got some mistaken idea that you’re this fragile flower he has to protect. Damn it, Claire, take the initiative!”
Dragged to the ladies’ room on the pretext she had panda eyes, Claire studied Jules’s outraged expression in the mirror, then reapplied lipstick in the same siren red as her dress. False advertising, she thought. “Jules, I’m not chasing a reluctant man.”
“But Ellie—”
“Is right,” she interrupted. “I am vulnerable.” She stuck the lipstick in her clutch bag and closed it with a snap. “So is Nate. No more browbeating. He’s not ready to have a relationship and his second thoughts have given me second thoughts.”
“Have you kissed?”
Claire blushed. “Not the way you’re thinking.”
“Then kiss him, Claire, make the first move.”
Claire replaced the lipstick in her bag. “I’ve never kissed an unwilling man and I’m not starting now.”
“He’s not unwilling, he’s scared and noble and… God, this is all bullshit.”
“Why is this so important to you?” she asked gently.
“Because I can’t stand for you both to screw this up for lack of courage.”
There was something more going on here, but a ladies’ room in a busy restaurant wasn’t the place to dig deeper.
“So I kiss him,” Claire said to placate her. “Let’s say the incredible happens and we end up in bed. He still has to fly back to L.A. Monday to go on tour for six months with Zander Freedman.”
Jules waved an impatient hand. “Zander fired him days ago,” she said.
“What?”
“When Nate decided to stay and make sure you were doing the right thing by throwing all your money into the business.”
“Zander fired him?” Claire repeated stupidly.
Jules seized her hands. “And you don’t let a guy that decent walk away without putting up some kind of fight.”
* * *
“We’re all at your place for breakfast first thing tomorrow,” Ross told Claire when she and Jules returned from the bathroom. “Nate suggested making it early to coincide with Ellie and Lewis being there.”
“Great idea,” Claire said. So Nate was banking on safety in numbers, was he?
“Don’t worry about supplies,” Jo said. “We’ll stop at the supermarket in the morning.”
“I’m thinking lots of red meat to replenish energy,” Ross said wickedly and pulled a laughing Viv onto his lap.
“With plenty of iron for the mother to be,” agreed Dan.
Jo said, “Lover, it could take time to get pregnant, you are aware of that, aren’t you?”
“Not the way we do it,” Dan promised.
“This sexy-talk embargo works both ways,” complained Ross. “But I expect to be the godfather.”
“You would,” said Jo. “I think we’ll go the celebrity route and have multiple godparents to counter your influence. Heavens, I’m talking like I’m pregnant already.” She smiled at her husband. “Your confidence is contagious. I need to touch w
ood or something to avoid jinxing this…. Ross, bend your head.”
“I won’t be able to make it,” Jules said. “Sunday’s the only time I can catch up on billing. Which is why I should go.” Despite protests, she hugged everybody and picked up her bag, sending Claire a private wink.
Smiling weakly, Claire lifted her empty glass. “Is there any champagne left in the bottle?”
After Jules disappeared from sight, Jo commented to Claire, “She was sad tonight. Were we too much for her with all the loving-couple stuff?”
“No,” Claire said emphatically. “It’s good to be around happy.” She’d hated how Dan and Ross had tiptoed around her after Steve died. It only reminded her of the crippled part of herself, not the survivor’s part. “Jules is at a crossroads, that’s all.”
“Lee would hate that she’s lonely,” Ross said. “He’d want us to find her another guy.”
Claire kept her mouth shut and with a glance reminded Nate to do the same.
“Wow,” said Jo. “I hate to say this, Ice-cream, but that’s actually a brilliant idea.”
“But is she ready?” Viv asked Claire.
“I think so.” She spoke cautiously, trying not to telegraph insider information.
“It’s a tall order,” said Dan. “Who the hell could match Lee?”
“There are a couple of nice guys at base,” said Ross.
Claire forgot to be Switzerland. “Are you insane? Jules doesn’t want another soldier.” She realized as soon as the words left her mouth that Nate would read that the wrong way and a quick glance confirmed it.
“Okay, a desk jockey,” Ross said reluctantly. “I guess between the three guys we could rustle one up?”
Nate held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not getting involved. It’s a crazy idea.”
“It’s not something we can leave to these women,” Ross explained patiently. “They’ll give too much credence to charm, money and good looks. We’ll end up with someone we can’t respect. I can’t do that to Lee.”
Only his fiancee attempted to hide her smile. “Now, everyone,” Viv cautioned, “you need to encourage Ross’s new nurturing side, not mock it.”
“Damn right,” he said, rewarding her with a smacking kiss. “Keep protecting these quivering, vulnerable feelings and name a wedding date. I’m not pinning my hopes to Nate’s schedule once Zander Freedman gets hold of him again.”
Claire glanced at Nate, but he was looking into his whiskey.
Viv shook her head, but her tone was admiring. “You never give up, do you, babe?”
“Giving up is for wimps,” Ross declared. He grinned at Jo. “Right, Bridezilla?”
The redhead grinned back. “Right, Icecream.”
Nervously, Claire picked up her glass and sculled the last of her champagne. And so say all of us.
Chapter Twenty-one
The footbridge arched in a shadowy span above the dark estuary, but a full moon lit their way. Claire waited while Nate paid the cabdriver. The taxi had dropped them off in Stingray Bay South, which shortened the journey from Whangarei by twenty minutes.
They walked to the bridge in silence, her stilettos resonating once they reached the wooden boards. The tide had turned toward the sea and it gurgled past the concrete piles. A fish jumped, landing with a startled splash. Moonstruck, she thought.
She stopped to lean over the railing and gazed across the black water, sparkling with the reflected gleam and glitter of the night sky.
“Amazing, isn’t it,” she said, “how much brighter the stars are out of cities.”
Nate had walked on ahead. He turned reluctantly and she thought, What am I doing? He doesn’t want this. “The height doesn’t look so daunting at night. Maybe I should get you to push me.”
He smiled at that. “Somehow I don’t think I’d get the grateful thanks Steve gave me.”
“No.” Did he know how badly she wanted to touch him? “This is something I have to do for myself.”
Returning to her side, Nate leaned his elbows against the railing and looked down. “What stops you? Do you worry you’ll hit the surface too hard? Sink too deep?”
“No, it’s the gap between bridge and water. The sensation of freefall.” Her pashmina slipped from one shoulder. Claire adjusted it. “Do you really have a job to go back to?”
He hesitated. “No.”
“You’re really keen to get away from me, aren’t you,” she joked because it hurt too much to do otherwise.
“I’m looking out for you.”
“Because I can’t do it myself?” Oh, yeah, sarcasm was a wonderful seduction tool.
Eyes wary, Nate faced her. “What do you want from me, Claire?”
Everything. The knowledge bubbled to consciousness like a spring of clear water. She swallowed, trying to find the courage to say it. Silent seconds passed. Nate gestured toward home. “We should walk.”
“I can feel you looking at me when you think I don’t notice,” she blurted. “It makes my skin tingle.”
“That’s the cold,” he said. Shrugging off his jacket, he held it out at arm’s length. “Here.”
Claire shook her head. “I don’t feel it.”
“Only because you’ve been drinking,” he said roughly. Stepping forward, he draped his jacket across her shoulders, the silk lining still warm.
“Three glasses over six hours,” she clarified. He stood close, fastening a button to keep the oversized jacket on her smaller shoulders. “Funny, isn’t it?” Claire stared at his shirt. “I drank to do something about us and you drank not to.” His hands stilled on the button. He must hear her heartbeat. “Unfortunately, like jumping off this bridge,” she managed to say, “I find when it comes to the leap I can’t quite make my move.”
Silence. Claire dared to look up.
Moonlight illuminated a clenched jaw. His expression was impassive, but the yearning deep in his eyes made her suck in a hopeful breath.
“Are you going to kiss me or not?”
He released the jacket. “Not,” he rasped.
“Then I’ll kiss you.” Cupping his nape, she drew his head down, but Nate laid his fingertips over her mouth.
“Some things you can’t take back.”
Claire lifted his hand. “Some things you don’t want to.”
Closing the gap, she pressed her mouth tentatively against his. Nate pulled away, catching her fingers in a painful grip. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. Brave, smart, strong.” He dropped her hand. “Emotions have been intense since I told you what happened. Let’s not rush into anything.”
And suddenly she understood. “You think this might be motivated by pity?”
“I think,” Nate said carefully, “that we’re both susceptible right now and I’d be taking advantage if I took this further tonight.” Really, perfectly reasonable, yet part of her raged against it.
He must have sensed her frustration. “I will come back,” he added quietly.
Claire resisted the urge to tell him she’d heard that before. From Steve. “Fine.” She shrugged. “Let’s do the sensible thing.”
“Claire…”
“You go ahead. I’ll catch you up.”
Ignoring him, she leaned over the railing and fixed a fierce gaze on the moon reflected below. It reminded her of a shivering white bather treading water. Pathetic.
“I’ll wait at the end of the bridge.”
“You do that.” She was over waiting for a man she loved. As soon as Nate began walking, she shrugged off his jacket, dropped her shawl and stepped determinedly out of her heels. By the time he’d reached the end of the bridge and turned, she was already on the other side of the railing.
“What the hell.”
“One way or another,” she called, “I’m moving on tonight.”
“Claire, no!” He ran toward her. Closing her eyes, she jumped.
Her body hit the water with a resounding splash and as it closed over her head, cold s
queezed the last of the champagne bubbles out of her bloodstream and constricted her lungs. She broke the surface on a giant gasp. “It’s freeeeeezing,” she yelled, every molecule burning.
Above, Nate was hastily stripping off his clothes.
“No, I’m fine!” she hollered. “Bring my stuff.” The current drifted her shivering body downstream, her dress, lightly billowing in chiffon petals.
Expression anxious, Nate hesitated and Claire waved reassuringly and kicked into a fast crawl while she still had blood flow. The silk sheath of the underdress wrapped her body like a second skin, fortunately short enough not to impede her kicks.
And that was luck—she hadn’t given safety a second thought. Maybe she was tipsier than she realized. The icy water made its languid way into her bones and Claire kicked faster. This is insane. But she felt more alive than she’d felt for months. We did it, she told the little girl she’d once been. We climbed our Everest. We can do anything now.
She lifted her head to check distance and spotted Nate jogging alongside, her stilettos and pashmina clutched in one hand. “Swim to shore,” he bellowed.
“No,” she yelled defiantly. “I’m nearly there.” Teeth chattering, she resumed her swim, determined to go the distance, though her arms got heavier and heavier. At last the bach was alongside. She angled into the shore and stumbled through the shallows, feet numb, muscles convulsing and grinning ear to ear.
Nate was so furious he had to consciously unlock his jaw. “You didn’t even bloody jump at the right place.”
Her dress clung to her body like tattered flags. Her nylons were torn and covered to the ankles in sticky mud. “Th-that…wa-was…f-f-f-fun,” she said.
Roughly he wrapped her in the shawl, jerked his jacket across her shoulders and frogmarched her up the path. “Do you know how cold that water is right now?”
“P-p-pooh! Y-y-you d-d-did it.”
“We were in wet suits!”
Claire stumbled and impatiently he picked her up and carried her across the grass, over the deck and into the bach, where he tugged off the jacket and pashmina. He yanked the bedraggled chiffon bow loose then spun her around to undo the zip on the back of her dress, ignoring her blue-lipped protest.
