Last Chance Proposal (Entangled Bliss)

by DeLeo, Barbara

  His head told him to stay where he was, not to bend and remove the inch it would take for his lips to touch hers, that this was madness. His body had other ideas.

  An explosion of need ripped through him and he claimed her mouth with his own. The pressure of her lips against his was sweetly firm. Her breath whispered softly across his face, her palms pressed against his chest before she pulled back, leaving them both gasping for air.

  There was nothing comfortable or safe about Ellie Jacobs anymore, and it scared the living daylights out of him.

  Chapter Seven

  Ellie stepped back and shook her head. “No, Cy.”

  His chest constricted and instinctively he stepped closer. Confusion painted her face.

  “This wasn’t…I’m not…” Her words wobbled as she touched her hands to her face. “I said I’d marry you, but this wasn’t part of the deal.”

  His throat was so dry. He had to swallow before he could get it to work. “What if we changed the deal?”

  “It’s what we agreed, Cy,” she said, but a flush bloomed from her neck up to her cheeks.

  His fingertips tingled with the need to touch her, to feel her skin. “Maybe I want more.”

  His breath caught at the beauty of the idea. Why shouldn’t they have more? They were adults, with their eyes open. He knew she still wanted him, had caught her looking at him. More could be better. Could take their arrangement to another level.

  “More?” she said faintly.

  He stepped closer, till he could feel her body heat. “Tell me you don’t want more, Ellie.”

  Her voice wavered. “A summer fling, a bit of kissing practice so people will believe we have a real relationship like we had on the beach today?” She shook her head. “You haven’t thought this through.”

  Thinking? If he were in control of his mind and body when he was around her, this wouldn’t be happening. “Ellie, it’s not about anything other than me wanting to kiss you.”

  She shifted as if to leave, then looked directly in his face. “For the here and now? For the next two weeks? Trying to get closer to me so our relationship will seem more authentic and you can be more sure of getting what you want isn’t what I signed up for.” Her words came more quickly. “I’ve lied as much as I’m going to in my life. I’m not going to pretend we can have a real relationship when I know we can’t.”

  “Ellie, that’s not what’s happening here. I’d never try to seduce you to get something I wanted. I’d never hurt you.”

  Her wild honey eyes flashed as the bald truth hit him. Of course he had the power to hurt her. He’d done it before. Once. And even though he’d left to spare her the weight of him wanting to tell, and she wanting to keep their secret, he’d never forgotten the pain on her face or the tears on her cheeks.

  She said nothing for a moment, then moved to the fireplace and picked up the dustpan and brush. “You’re just getting carried away in the moment.”

  “Ellie…”

  She began vigorously sweeping the pieces of glass into the dustpan, a loose ringlet falling across her face. “There’s too much history between us, Cy, too much hurt for us to get over. If that kiss is some sort of apology—”

  “Trying to fix what happened in the past is not why I kissed you now.”

  She shook her downcast head. “You’re under a lot of stress. You kissed me because we have unfinished business. Things didn’t end the way they should have between us, but now we owe it to ourselves and Jonty to start fresh.”

  “You mean you don’t feel the same connection I feel to you? I can’t believe that.”

  “I don’t believe you really feel a connection,” she said, her tone softening. “You want the situation with Jonty to work out so badly that you’ll do whatever it takes, but this isn’t a game. I haven’t offered you my body or my heart.”

  Tiny furrows scarred her brow and his gut hollowed out. He reached for the dustpan. “I’ll take that.” She looked away as he took the broken glass from her and emptied it in the kitchen. He steeled himself as he came into the lounge. She was right; he could screw everything up if he wanted something and she didn’t. Imagine if this spooked her into withdrawing her agreement to marry him.

  “I’m sorry, Ellie, but I can’t help how I feel, and I’m pretty damn sure you feel it too.”

  Her shoulders slumped.

  He pushed out a sharp breath as he steadied himself against the lintel. She still had to know there was no hidden agenda. “I kissed you now because it felt right.” He took a step forward as a rush of awareness trapped him. “I kissed you because I was sick of imagining it every time I’m with you.”

  She leaned on an old bookshelf, her face soft but resigned. “You’re hurting, Cy. You’ve come back here to find reassurance that some parts of your life are the same as they always were.” The caring in her tone unraveled him. “But they’re not. I’m not. Long term I don’t want to be a wife and mother. I’ve built a life for myself, something I’m not going to abandon for a flimsy relationship founded on deception and disappointments. I’ve agreed to marry you and live with you for one year and that’s all. That’s all I have to give.”

  A sharp pain dug into his chest and he pressed the wood of the doorway beneath his fingertips. “I know you’re not the same.”

  “We’ve both moved on to incredibly different places in our lives. We’re just going to end up hurting each other, and more importantly Jonty, if we pretend otherwise.” She waved her hand across her lips as if dismissing the tingle still radiating in his. “You’re trying to make something out of a relationship that can never be.”

  The words slapped him and he shook his head. She thought he was manipulating her. It was sketched in the lines by her mouth and the shadows on her face. He wasn’t wrong, he was certain she still felt something for him. But having Ellie to help fight for his son was way more important than having her in his arms. He had to keep remembering that or everything could fall apart.

  “Okay,” he said. “If you’re not ready to acknowledge what’s happening between us, I’ll respect that, but I can’t ignore the way I feel.”

  Ellie sank down into the sofa and dropped her head into her hands. She’d only been back from Cy’s for half an hour and her legs were still jelly, her skin still humming from what had happened. For so long she’d imagined being that close to him again, savoring the feel of his lips on hers, sinking into his strong arms, but she’d been surprised by the intensity of her reaction.

  He was desperate, she got that, but he needed to know she’d worked too hard on her happiness in the last few years to throw it all away on a quick fling. Whether he’d kissed her because he hadn’t thought through what it might mean for her, or because some real reaction from her might help when he was faking the kiss in public, she wasn’t sure.

  Whatever the reason, deep down she knew that part of him hadn’t changed. She still sensed something coiled inside Cy, like he was ready to bolt at any minute. The way he’d reacted at the glowworms was a prime example of how he pushed others away when things got difficult.

  “Ellie! Ellie! Where are you?” Fleur’s voice flew across the garden from the gate.

  Jonty. Ellie rushed onto the deck to meet her, heart pounding. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh. My. God.” Fleur panted, red-faced as she ran onto the deck, her flip-flops in her hand. Louis, as usual, swaggered behind. “You won’t believe it, Ell.” She put a palm flat on her chest as if to slow her heart. “He talked.” Her eyes shone as they widened.

  “Really? That’s incredible!”

  She collapsed into a chair, breathing heavily, and Ellie sat down next to her, heart still racing. The miracle Cy’s been waiting for.

  “Well, he didn’t actually talk, but he sang. He sang with all the kids when they were onstage doing, “A Pukeko in a Ponga Tree.” Her words ran into each other as she rushed on.

  “Cyndi Abberley was teaching everyone the words to the final song and when she told them about
the last line, ‘A Pukeko in a Ponga Tree,’ he got all excited and started squirming on his chair. Louis told Cyndi about Jonty’s little pukeko chick, so Cyndi said if we could find a toy pukeko, he could hold it and be the ponga tree in the pageant. He went up onstage with Louis, and then he started singing with the other kids!”

  Fleur paused and chewed her lip. “Well, I don’t actually know if he made any noise, but he definitely mouthed all the words and did all the actions.”

  Ellie leaned forward as Louis ambled past them into the house. She was desperate for every last detail. “What did Cy say when you dropped Jonty off? He’d have been over the moon.” If only she could’ve seen his face. If she hadn’t left so quickly, she could’ve seen his joy.

  Fleur hesitated. “I didn’t tell him.”

  “You what? How could you not tell him something so huge?”

  Fleur tucked her legs under her. “I said to Jonty on the way out, ‘Wait till we tell your dad,’ and he and Louis started jumping up and down.” She shrugged. “God knows how Louis understands, it’s like they’ve got a secret language, but he said that Jonty wants it to be a surprise for his dad. He doesn’t want Cy to know about the performance until New Year’s Eve.”

  Ellie leaned back and nodded. “I told Jonty about the pageant, how his dad had loved being in it and it seemed to touch something in him.” She remembered his shining face and blossoming smile. “How can we keep it a secret from Cy, though? Jonty will have to go to practice every day for a week.”

  Fleur grinned. “I thought about that. We can take the boys to practice. Make some excuse about Cy not needing to come. He’ll think it’s some sort of hero worship Jonty’s got for Louis anyway, so we can pretend that’s what’s happening.”

  Ellie blew out a breath. “It will be an amazing surprise.”

  “He’ll be fine,” her sister said. “Honestly, I think part of that little guy’s problem is that he can sense Cy’s fear. A few interactions with other people away from his dad might be what he needs.”

  Jonty deserved fun and happiness, and it was lovely he’d found some in Rata Cove. A spark raced through her and she couldn’t help but grin. She could only imagine the shock on Cy’s face when he saw Jonty up onstage New Year’s Eve.

  Fleur tilted her head to one side and shot her sister a look from under her lashes. “Speaking of surprises, there was an empty champagne flute on the table at Cy’s place and he told me to be careful where I walked because another got smashed.” Her eyes narrowed. “Funny, don’t you think?”

  Crawling heat spread across Ellie’s face. Ignoring Fleur’s penetrating stare, Ellie smiled and looked away.

  “You still look good together, Ellie, and it’s nice that you’ve rekindled your friendship. People won’t have such a hard time believing you’re in love.”

  Christmas Day.

  The thought tumbled over and over in Ellie’s head as she woke hot and sticky the next morning, a sheet wrapped around her middle. She’d been dreaming about making love to Cy in a tent in the desert. He’d been a sheik in flowing robes and somehow she’d got tangled up in them. She squeezed her eyes tight and buried her head in the pillow. That was not the sort of dream she should’ve been having after their argument last night.

  The dull light indicated it was still very early but there was a noise outside her room. Banging. Thwump, thwump, over and over.

  She dragged her head up and listened. Yes, banging—coming from the lounge room. Suddenly her door opened and Fleur’s smiling face appeared. “You might want to get up. Seems Santa’s been and he brought weapons.”

  Ellie pulled on a bathrobe and slid her bedroom door open before she’d had time to wake properly. “What time is it?” she managed through a dry mouth. “Is the sun up? I thought a couple of possums—”

  “Merry Christmas!”

  Her stomach pitched. Cy, Jonty, and Louis sat on the floor with wrapping paper scattered around them. She pulled a hand through her hair and her fingers snagged in the unruly mess. What was Cy doing here? On Christmas morning? In her living room?

  She hadn’t seen him yesterday, but the brand on her lips from where he’d kissed her the day before flamed and her knees went weak. The thin cotton of her nightgown seemed too little protection as her body hummed with the memory. If she looked in his eyes, she might burst into flames.

  “Look what Santa brought, Aunt Ellie!” Louis spoke, rapid-fire. “He must’ve found out I’m friends with J now ’cause he brought us both terror swords!”

  “Terror what?”

  “A terror sword. Look!” He waved around an enormous gray sword with flashing lights. “This is the other half of Jonty’s one and when you use them together they know what moves the other one’s doing.”

  The bulging Christmas stocking at Louis’s feet was barely visible under red-and-gold wrapping paper. The toys looked expensive, and there was no way Fleur could have afforded such a thing. Cy must have bought them. A curl of gratitude unwound in her chest. Cy had been unsure about Jonty’s first Christmas in New Zealand, and now he’d made it extra special for both boys.

  Louis jumped up in his racing car pajamas. “Come on, J. Let’s show Ellie.”

  Jonty hopped up, too, and like a couple of samurai warriors, the boys thumped the swords against each other and recorded sounds of metal clashing, fighter jets screaming, and cows mooing filled the room.

  “Wow!” Ellie laughed. “I’ve never seen such fabulous swords, have you, Cy?”

  She turned toward him and when he looked across at her he grinned, his eyes sparking bright with the same desire she’d seen there two days ago.

  “We thought Santa was pretty sharp finding out that these two are friends,” he said.

  “I had heard that Santa’s pretty smart.” A smile tugged her mouth.

  Fleur came in with coffees. “I’m going into the bush out back to cut some pohutukawa blossoms for the table decoration. I’ll take the boys with me so the neighbors don’t think someone’s being drawn and quartered. Is that okay, Cy?’

  A shadow passed across his face and he hesitated before saying, “Sure. We’ll come out when we’ve finished the coffee.”

  “Sorry you missed the opening of the stockings,” he said when Fleur had gone outside. “As soon as Jonty opened his presents at home he got dressed and headed out the door wanting to see what Louis got. I don’t know if you noticed, but this is the first time since he’s been here that he hasn’t worn his scarf.”

  “Oh, Cy that’s fantastic!”

  “It’s still in his back pocket, but I think there’s so much going on here that he’s happy to focus on other things. I was about to knock on your door when we arrived, but the boys were too quick. I told them we had to wait until dinner for the rest of the presents.” He threw her a lopsided grin that alighted on her skin. The thumping of the swords faded into the distance as the boys moved off the deck.

  “Thanks for doing that for Louis.” Ellie busied herself tidying wrapping paper so she didn’t have to look at him but her heart softened at his thoughtfulness. “Money’s pretty tight for Fleur.”

  Cy swiped the air. “It’s nothing. He’s a great kid and he’s been great for Jonty. Katie went into Papaatawhai for me and got everything yesterday.”

  She reached for the coffee. “Want one?”

  “Sure,” he said and she passed him the steaming cup. “I want to apologize for the other day.”

  “We need sugar.” She swiveled abruptly and walked into the kitchen in search of the sugar, heat flooding her cheeks. God, why was she reacting like this?

  “Ellie?”

  She stilled, trying to reconcile her reaction to him. Straightening her spine, she found a neutral expression and turned.

  He stood in the middle of the tiny lounge, one hand slung in his shorts pocket, the other dragging across his chin. “Thursday…” He cleared his throat. “It was a perfect day. A perfect day that I should’ve put an end to about half an hour earlier.”


  “So why didn’t you?” She stood frozen to the spot and realized she was holding her breath.

  He lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I’m not sure, really. Maybe relief that things were panning out so well. Maybe nostalgia and the fact that I still feel close to you. But those two things are all about me. I wasn’t thinking enough about you.”

  She blinked and moistened her lips. “As I said, it’s an emotional time, but it’s other people we need to pretend for, not each other.” She tried to make her voice sound light. “The only future you and I have is the next year, and our focus has to be Jonty. After that I’m going to get on with what I was doing before you came back here, trying to build my business so I can stay in New Zealand. I know you’ve explained why you had to leave back then, but it doesn’t undo the fact you hurt me and I’m not going to let that happen again.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment and then nodded. “I hope we can put it behind us and get on with enjoying Christmas then.”

  Put it behind them. It was exactly what they needed to do. What she had to do. So why was her chest so tight that she could barely draw breath?

  “There’s not going to be a Christmas if I don’t get dressed. There’s the turkey to put on, the peas to shell. And I have a whole lot of potatoes that need to be scrubbed if you’re up for it.”

  He pulled her close and hugged her. “Sounds perfect.”

  “Whew, I’m stuffed!” Louis pushed his empty dessert plate away and slumped against the back of his chair. The sparkly wrap and dubious innards from Christmas crackers lay strewn across the table and the white cloth was stained with red wine and grape juice. A heat haze of roast dinner and burning sun hovered in the air.

  Cy stood and slapped a fist on his chest. “Time to do the rest of these dishes, men. Looks like these ladies could do with a snooze.”