Loving Lydia (Atlantic Divide)

by Saxon, Diane

  “No. Not all of it. Not yet. I don’t know how to.” Distracted, she rubbed her finger across Gemma’s downy, plump cheek. “It’s not really something you just drop into the conversation—oh by the way, Sam, I think you should know I murdered my husband.”

  “Lydia.” Kate’s murmured disapproval made Lydia shift uncomfortably.

  “I’ll speak to him soon, I promise. Once I do though, he’s not going to hang around.”

  “He will. Have faith.”

  “Yeah, ’cos faith gave me a good kicking last time.” They sat in silence for a moment, both reluctant to move.

  “I had a phone call from Mum last night. They’re coming to visit at the end of the week.”

  “Wow, that’ll be strange. There’ll be more of our family in America soon than there are of Jack’s. It’s a shame we haven’t heard from Michael lately. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled when he finds out he has a new niece.”

  “Mum says they’ve not heard from him in four months, not a single message. I’m sure we’d have heard if something had happened to him.”

  Both sisters smiled as Gemma’s little rosebud mouth went slack and milk dribbled slowly down her cheek. Lydia stood up and took the baby from her sister, sitting herself back down in a chair.

  “We’re not sure where they’re going to stay, though. Jack hasn’t finished the other two bedrooms yet, and we’ve been using them for storage.” Lydia watched Kate closely and idly wondered if there was a point to this. “It would be a shame if they had to stay in a hotel and come back and forth each day.” Kate stood and walked toward the coffee machine. “Perhaps Jack could ask Sam to put them up,” she suggested, and Lydia caught her bland stare. “Although it seems a little unfair. Sam works such long hours, it’s probably as far away by road as the hotel, and they’ll have to hire a car. You know Dad hates driving abroad.” Lydia’s preoccupation with Gemma ground to a halt, and her narrowed eyes met the misty blue innocence of her sister’s.

  “That could be awkward.”

  “Well, have a think about it. If you can come up with a better alternative, let me know.” Lydia suspected her sister had already come up with an alternative; she just figured it wasn’t better for her, so she chose to ignore it.

  “Okay. Kate, put the coffee down and go back to bed. I’ll watch Gemma for a few hours while you catch up on your sleep.”

  It wasn’t long before her own heathens tumbled down the stairs, shrieking with laughter, and making Gemma’s sweet little face screw up in fright. The mewling sound that came from her gave Lydia a painful contraction in her chest.

  She picked the baby up, snuggled her face into her soft neck, and closed her eyes with pleasure as she inhaled the wonderful perfume of newborn baby. Aaron and Rosie crept forward and leaned on her legs for a closer look.

  *

  Sam watched from the doorway as Lydia opened her beautiful green eyes, fogged with emotion, a smile of utter devotion on her face. He felt his heart contract and almost heard the slushing noise as it hit the floor at her feet.

  I want this, he thought. All of it. I want her, her children. We could have our own children too.

  He leaned down and hefted Aaron into his arms, ruffled Rosie’s hair as she peered up at the baby, and then gently pulled Lydia close and fit his mouth against hers. He felt her sink into him, wanting as much as he wanted. When he pulled back to study her face, Aaron wriggled free, and he let him slide down to the floor to go and find toys with Rosie.

  “Marry me.” Filled with emotion, his voice barely made it past his throat, but she heard. Heard it, but it took her a moment to comprehend, and then he saw the fear in her eyes as she took a step back.

  “Sam, I…”

  “Hey, you guys. What’s for breakfast?” Jack’s deep voice rumbled from the doorway. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

  “No,” Lydia assured.

  “Yes,” Sam growled.

  Jack didn’t look contrite; he simply smiled, walked straight over to Lydia, and kissed the top of her head before he relieved her of his baby girl. Looking into his brother’s turbulent eyes, his grin spread wider as he walked over to the kitchen door to stand in the early morning sunshine.

  “Lydia, your parents are arriving in a couple of days.”

  “Yes, Kate mentioned it this morning.”

  “She was wondering if you’d mind if they stayed at your place, Sam.” Sam gave an easy shrug. It was no skin off his nose. He was barely there anyway.

  “I thought it might be easier for them, though, if they moved in here.” Sam shrugged again, unconcerned, and reached for his coffee. “It means that Jim won’t have to drive and they won’t have to rely on you to bring them over here.”

  Lydia moved Sam out of her way as she put toast in the toaster. Sam handed her the first coffee and then turned to make his own. Their movements were smooth and fluid, in rhythm with each other, almost like they were already a couple.

  “I don’t think we’re going to make our other spare rooms habitable in time,” Jack prodded once more.

  Sam turned and leaned against the bench, crossed his arms over his chest, and narrowed his eyes at his big brother, wondering what the hell he was up to. Preoccupied, Lydia moved as the toast popped.

  “I wondered if it would be better if Lydia and the kids came and stayed with you, Sam?”

  Lydia bobbled the toast, caught one piece before it hit the floor, and the other skidded across the counter. With a self-conscious move, she tucked her hair behind her ear and then carefully buttered the toast and concentrated on setting it on a plate.

  *

  Heart in her throat, she wondered what was in Sam’s head. He hadn’t so much as twitched a muscle, and she could feel his eyes on her, waiting. She placed the plate on the table, called Rosie and Aaron over for their breakfast, gave her hands a quick rub on her jeans, and then turned to face the two big, silent men who dominated the kitchen. Jack’s face was blank, poker player blank. Sam just waited, gentle eyes calm and inquiring, giving her room to make the decision herself.

  He’d just asked her to marry him. In fact it hadn’t sounded like a request, more like a gentle insistence. Did he really want her to marry him? She felt foolish, knowing he was aware that she almost ran in her desperation to escape from him when he mentioned marriage. She now had to deal with this secondary attack. Emotional blackmail from Jack, who could have no idea of the dilemma he had just made her face. Worry and fear had her mentally smacking her hand against her forehead. Of course she couldn’t live with him. Even for a short while, she could never trust another man again. You never knew what you were dealing with until you lived with someone.

  She saw the light of disappointment in his eyes and the regretful smile form on his lips as he stared back at her, and she felt a tug of sadness in her heart. She knew she hurt him. She had no option. She needed to look out for herself and her two children. She’d learned the hard way if you don’t protect yourself, you can’t expect anyone else to do it for you. Sam shifted and pushed away from the counter as his eyes fell away from hers.

  “I’ll get my gear and move into the bunk house with the boys. You can stay in the house with the kids.”

  Pure shock hit her. Why would he do such a thing? She aimed a curious look at him and caught his eye. He kicked his smile up, slow and easy, sad and weary.

  “You can’t do that. I can’t let you move out of your own house, Sam.”

  “Well, what would you suggest, Lydia?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, exchanged a look between him and his brother. A frown formed between her brows as she tried to resolve the problem. Nothing came to mind as they both waited patiently.

  “I’ll collect my stuff and then help you move in.” He gave her an easy smile as he walked out the door and across the back lawn. Jack stood still as a statue. His eyes bored into hers as though he was willing her to do something and do it now.

  “I’ll be back.” She dashed out the door in pursuit of Sam
.

  It didn’t take her that long to catch up with him, despite his long legged stride. She could move when she wanted to, but his eyes widened with surprise when she whipped around in front of him and stood with her hands on her hips to look directly up into his caramel eyes. He smiled down at her and quirked an eyebrow up as though their meeting was an unexpected pleasure.

  “This is stupid.” She poked a finger into his broad chest.

  “Uh huh.” He crossed his arms over that broad chest and waited.

  “We’re both adults.” Frustrated, confused, with no desire to hurt him any further, she placed her hand on him and rubbed her thumb over the area she had just poked. “We can stay in the same house together without … without…”

  “Having sex?” His dimple winked as he tried to coax a smile from her.

  “No, no. I don’t mean that.” Frustrated, she stalked away, puffed out a breath, and gripped her hair between her fingers, ready to pull it out of her head.

  “Oh, we can have sex then?” His casual, banal remark had her storming back to stand toe to toe with him glaring up into his face, exasperation bouncing off her. His grin widened.

  “Yes. No. This is not what I’m talking about.”

  “Well, Lydia, honey, why don’t you tell me exactly what you are talking about?”

  He was so damned maddening standing there with a mile-wide smile on his face, his dimples like craters, and a twinkle in his eye, pretending to be patient and helpful. She huffed a breath out through her nose and stepped in closer, her voice low and accusing.

  “You just asked me to marry you.”

  All sign of amusement was wiped off his face, and he straightened away from her like she was about to knee him in his privates. His eyes narrowed with annoyance as she felt a flush rise in her face. She’d got his attention now, but it wasn’t quite what she’d expected. Therein lay the problem. You never really knew anyone properly.

  “I can’t marry you.” He stood completely still staring at her. She felt pressure in her chest as she looked back at him and realized that he wasn’t going to offer her any help out of this. He was just waiting. Her eyes dropped from his as she raised her hand once more to his chest and spoke quietly.

  “I can’t ever marry again, Sam. You’re such a lovely man, and really, I don’t want to give you any false hope. I can’t ever, ever let another man into my life. I need to look after myself and my children, and that’s just the way it is.” Shrugging, she glanced back up at his face. She could feel the prickle of tears behind her eyes, but didn’t think it was obvious enough for him to notice.

  “What I meant to say earlier was that I think we can be adult enough for the kids and me to move into your house without it being some kind of commitment for us personally. It’s really just for convenience, so that Mum and Dad can … you know, be with their new granddaughter … and…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes blurred.

  With an easy smile, he slung his arm around her shoulder in a close pal kind of way and kissed her roughly on the top of her head.

  “You got it, sweetheart. I’ll come by later, pick up your stuff and we’ll get you moved in. No strings, no pressure. I’m sure we can share the same house without really seeing that much of each other. You know me; I’m busy most of the time anyhow.” He gave her one more quick squeeze before he walked loose-limbed toward the stables as though it had been the easiest decision in the world, and she knew in her heart how much he hurt. He’d backed off way too easily, and his dimples hadn’t been anywhere in sight when he had smiled.

  She consoled herself with the fact that she would move into his house. She’d laid down the boundaries, but at least she would have an opportunity to soothe him, show him she was grateful. She only hoped her heart could take the pressure of living in the same house with only her kids to run interference.

  Chapter 10

  He could smell the storm coming, taste the ozone in the atmosphere, and feel the electrical buzz in the air making his skin sensitive and the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. It had been a long time coming, and as he glanced up at the sky, Sam hoped the rain would fall on his land. The long, hot, dry summer had left the fields arid and parched, and anything less than a deluge would be ineffective.

  He’d sent the boys back to the bunk house early. The horses were bedded down, and there was nothing much he could do. Except stay where he was in the stables with the horses until he could guarantee that he had himself under control. It had to be the weather, although Lord knew he wanted Lydia every moment of every day. Most the time he could control himself. He kept himself on a tight leash with the knowledge that one wrong move and he’d terrify her, and then she’d run like a scared rabbit. If she had any idea of the amount he craved her, she would have run already.

  Every waking moment he thought of her, imagined what he could do with her lush little body if only he could, if only she would let him. He woke from sleep with a raw rush of desire and the object of that desire in the bedroom down the hall. The need to escape her before he gave in to his most primitive desires made him rush from the house every morning to work his body and mind until he once again had himself under control.

  One afternoon with her, one glorious night, and then nothing. She’d set the boundaries, and he’d willingly complied, thinking that just being near her would be enough. It wasn’t. It never would be. He needed her so much it hurt. He felt her eyes on him and knew she still wanted him. That made it hurt twice as bad. But he’d believed she would make the first move. The fact that she hadn’t was driving him crazy, and if she didn’t do something soon, he was going to have to reassess his plans.

  Giving the stallion a last pat on the neck, Sam stepped out of the stall and froze as the very object of his thoughts stood in the doorway of the stables, eyes wide and lips gently parted in surprise, almost as if she had hoped he wouldn’t be there. He watched as she tucked her hair behind her ear and gave him a hesitant smile.

  “Hi.”

  She’d done something with her hair and make-up; her eyes appeared dark and mysterious, and her hair had been fluffed. He noticed she’d applied some kind of scent. She normally smelled of Lydia, clean and aloof, but she’d put something warm and erotic on her skin. Her darkened eyes were still wary, and once again she reminded him of a skittish filly.

  “Are you on your own?” she asked as she nibbled at her bottom lip, her tentative smile wobbling with uncertainty.

  His look was so steady and intense that it seemed to burn her to the spot. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep as though trying to calm herself. He’d managed to avoid her now for eight days. He deliberately arrived back late at night and left early in the morning, just so that he did not have to be alone with her. Sneaking barefoot, he hadn’t even risked putting his boots on until he was outside the door to avoid waking her and the kids.

  She’d watched him though, waited for him to make a move, but other than the hot glances she occasionally sent his way when their paths crossed, she had seemed quite content for him to come and go as he pleased. There was no indication that she might want or need his company. Certainly no sexual messages passed between them. Now here she was. She bewildered him.

  His gaze never wavered as she opened her eyes and stared back at him.

  “Yeah, there’s no one else here. Just you and me.” He waited a minute for her to say something, but she remained silent, her huge green eyes and her dark wide pupils settled on him. Irritation and frustration made his voice low and harsh.

  “What do you want, Lydia?” She sucked in her breath and shock widened her eyes.

  “You,” she replied on a soft expulsion of air. He wasn’t quite sure he heard her right, and as she took a step forward, he took one back. The hesitant smile widened across her face until he managed to wipe it off completely with his next words.

  “Not now. Go back to the house.” Harsher than he’d meant, he saw the shock register, swiftly followed by hurt and embarrassment.

 
; “I’m sorry…” she stuttered out as she stumbled back, making his heart jitter unpleasantly. Embarrassed, she rubbed the palms of her hands on her jeans. “I didn’t think … I mean. I thought you wanted me.” Raw and bald, the words gushed out of her mouth as though she no longer had any control over them.

  Even in the dim light of the barn, he could see her pale skin flash through from white to puce all the way up to her hairline. His heart squeezed as he realized what she thought. Despite himself, he knew he couldn’t allow her to believe that he had stopped wanting her altogether. He stepped forward and caught her forearm as she tried to swing away from him. She refused to look at him but stood motionless, her panicked breath panted in and out of her chest.

  He realized what it had taken for this woman to come to him like this. He’d been waiting for her to make this move, and now she that she had, he’d slapped her down. She’d given him her pride, and he’d trampled on it just because he couldn’t control his own baser instincts.

  “Lydia.” His voice was low, still gravelly from reigning himself in. “I want you more than you could ever know.” His fingers loosened their grip on her arm, but she still faced away from him, stiff and unyielding, Mortification had frozen her to the spot. He needed her to understand. He opened his heart once more, a willing sacrifice in this war of trust.

  “I can’t give you want you need right now, I can’t be gentle.” He blew out a breath as he tried to explain to her. “You need tenderness, and I’m struggling to hold back because all I can think about at the moment is how I want to swallow you whole. Ravage you. Pin you against the wall and rip your clothes off you. I want to make love to you so hard and fast, like you’ve never known before.”

  He wasn’t sure if she understood until she turned and looked him straight in the eye. Her color was still high, but her eyes were narrowed now, the humiliation gone and a splash of anger sparked through their green depths.

  “So you think I’m not woman enough to take you?” One slim eyebrow shot up, and as time stood still, he felt the long slow blink of his eyelids, the wariness creep through his molten hot veins, stilling the rush of blood.