by Kim Lawrence
‘My turn.’
‘All over?’
There was a carnal intent in his slow smile as he tipped her onto her back and knelt over her. ‘I never break a promise.’
He didn’t. By the time he parted her legs and slid into her he had taken her to the edge several times, seeming to know exactly what she needed before she knew it herself, taking her places that she hadn’t known were on the map!
When he finally entered her she was a screaming mess of pleasure-soaked nerve endings. The sensation of him moving inside her, beautifully filling her, driving her deeper into herself, making her aware of her own body, made the slow-burn fuse he had lit simply explode.
Coming back to earth was a gentle, warm feeling of contentment. She turned with a lazy smile to him. ‘You really didn’t miss anywhere. In fact you went places I didn’t know I had.’ Before pressing her face to his chest and falling asleep—no nightmares this time.
* * *
‘What does a man have to do to wake up beside you in bed?’ He made it sound like a joke, but it was deadly serious. When he’d woken at the crazily early hour to find nothing but the lingering perfume of her body in the space beside him, his sense of loss had been profound.
Lily picked up the freshly brewed pot of coffee, her expression staying composed as the sight of him standing there looking rumpled and utterly gorgeous with his feet bare, his jeans unbelted and his shirt open dismantled her nervous system cell by cell.
‘I need to get back to the hospital.’ She looked at the spoon in her hand and didn’t have a clue how many spoonfuls of sugar she’d already put in so she thought, What the hell? And added another.
The horrible taste was something for her to focus on as he stepped further into the room wrapped in his aura of rampant sexuality.
‘Last night,’ she began, relieved that her words had halted his progress. If she aimed to keep the table between them, and of course didn’t think about him throwing her on top of it and making love to her, it would be fine. Totally fine.
She had this worked out. There was no way she was going to lay herself open to the accusation of romanticising what had happened; she planned to get in there first.
He arched a brow and opened the fridge. ‘I’m listening.’
‘It was what I needed, so thank you.’ She saw a look that was close to shock chase across his face—or was that relief? she wondered miserably. ‘But I won’t be requesting sympathy sex every night.’ Request sounded a lot better than beg.
Ben, who had raised the carton of milk to his lips, had a choking fit. He turned, wiping a drip of milk off his chin.
‘So is that what you think last night was?’
‘Relax. I’m not going to start talking about deep and meaningful experiences.’ Having him spell it out would have been too humiliating and embarrass them both. This way, even if he didn’t believe her, she retained her dignity or what she had left of it—she had begged him! Disbelief mingled with toe-curling self-loathing. What had happened to her pride?
Still, at least she had managed to stop short of telling him she loved him, she reminded herself, focusing on the positive and how she could downplay it now.
‘It was sex, pretty excellent sex—’ She couldn’t stop her eyes flying to his face as she added with a husky question mark, ‘I think?’ Lara wouldn’t be asking, she’d be telling him; she’d be... She wasn’t Lara.
He thought of the peace and sense of belonging he had found in her arms, in her body, and brought his lashes down in a concealing sweep. ‘I think too.’
He put the carton back in the fridge and looked at her, his blue eyes still partially veiled by his crazy, gorgeous lashes as he lounged against the open stainless-steel door. ‘Awkward, isn’t it?’
Lily struggled to inject some sincerity into her smile, but as a person who had once reduced a drama-school teacher to tears with her interpretation of a tree she suspected she was doing a really pathetic job.
‘Not at all, I’m fine. It’s forgotten.’
Resisting the temptation to make her eat her lying words—or at least him—he closed the fridge with a bang that made her jump and turned back. ‘If I did believe you, I’d be insulted,’ he teased.
She missed the teasing note and her eyes widened in dismay. ‘No, I didn’t mean—you were marvellous!’
‘Don’t stop. It was just getting interesting.’
‘That is, last night was...intense and with all the things going on I...that is...this is—’
‘Awkward, like I said.’ He passed a hand across his jaw, grimacing at the thick stubble. ‘I suppose you rang the hospital already?’
She nodded. ‘Everything’s fine, but—’
‘You want to get back. No problem, just give me five minutes to shower and you can think about my cure for the awkwardness.’
‘What cure?’
He swung back. ‘Oh, didn’t I say? We should get married. Think about it?’ he said, as if he’d just asked her to decide if she wanted meringue or sticky toffee for her pudding.
CHAPTER NINE
LILY STOOD THERE for a full minute not thinking. Her brain barely breathing before she reacted, the time lapse meant he was in the bedroom they had shared the previous night before she reached him. Enough time for him to strip down to his boxers.
‘For goodness’ sake put some clothes on,’ she said, struggling to keep her eyes above waist level. The boxers left very little to the imagination and hers had already gone into overdrive.
‘I don’t shower dressed.’
‘And I don’t appreciate your sense of humour,’ she countered resentfully. ‘What the hell was that down there?’
His grin flashed and he dropped his gaze down his own body. ‘I’m insulted you have to ask. I kind of thought it was pretty obvious.’
Her face burned as she dragged her eyes to face level. It was. ‘I meant downstairs...in the kitchen.’
‘A proposal of marriage?’
‘It would serve you right if I said yes,’ she hissed back, spitefully thinking, Lara got a man who stopped a plane to propose to her and I...I get a joke? She bit down on her quivering lip and thought, I don’t want dramatic gestures. I want one little word—love.
‘I hope you do, Lily.’
She stared, her eyes widening as she searched his face for any sign of deceit. ‘You’re not serious!’ But she could see he was and she felt scared, excited and appalled all at the same time. ‘Why?’
There was only one answer that, to her mind, was a reason for contemplating marriage—it wasn’t the one he gave.
‘I don’t want my daughter to be brought up by another man.’ Keep the woman you love close and the woman you want to convince you love her closer... He thought in all modesty that it worked better than the original he had shamelessly borrowed from.
This comment reduced her excitement levels and brought her crashing down to earth with a bang. ‘You’ve nothing to prove to me, Ben.’ She thought she was concealing her terrible disappointment pretty well. ‘You’re a good father.’
His brows knitted as he struggled to follow her line of argument and understand the odd flatness in her voice. ‘I’m not trying to prove anything.’
She pasted on a smile. ‘We’ve gone way beyond that. The last few weeks you’ve been a rock.’
He gritted his teeth over his frustration at her response. ‘I don’t want to be a rock. I want to be your husband.’
‘No,’ she contradicted. ‘You want to be Emmy’s dad, you want to do the right thing and please your grandfather.’ Say you love me... I’d take a lie, just say it please!
‘What the hell has my grandfather got to do with it?’
‘Are you trying to tell me he doesn’t want you to make an honest woman of me? Tell him you asked and I said no—h
e can’t blame you for that. Marriage is tough even when people love one another,’ she said, thinking of her twin again, this time not with envy as Lara’s marriage was going through a bad...maybe terminal patch. ‘Without it...?’
She gave another shrug, wondering if his silence meant he was secretly relieved that she had refused. Not that he was showing it—he still seemed pretty tense.
‘I’m glad you’re in Emmy’s life and no matter who I might meet in the future that will not affect your relationship with Emmy. It’s a sweet idea, but no.’
‘Sweet...?’ he echoed, thinking that he would dismember any man who so much as looked at her.
She nodded. ‘Insane, but sweet,’ she said sadly.
‘What about last night?’
She felt her tight control slip a notch and increased the voltage of her smile to compensate. ‘Last night was... We’ve both been living with a lot of stress lately.’
Ironically, if she hadn’t been so passionately in love with him she might have considered his proposal, but feeling the way she did it was impossible. A non-starter. She couldn’t settle for less...she couldn’t live a lie... It would be like dying a little more each day.
‘Look, I know I’ve kind of sprung this on you but after last night there didn’t seem any point waiting.’
Because I’m gagging for it, she thought, keeping her lips firmly clamped over the humiliating thought.
‘All I’m asking is you keep an open mind. The fact is we find ourselves doing things we didn’t think we would all the time. I never thought I’d be a father but I am and it’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me.’
Her anger slipped away as his simple sincerity brought a lump to her throat. ‘And you’re really great at it, and I realise that this is because of Emmy, you think that this is right for her but—’
‘Let me be honest.’
Lily could count the number of times on one hand that those words were followed by something that made her feel good—it turned out this time was no exception.
‘I felt as you do, that marriage as a piece of paper was irrelevant.’
Lily stared at him, astonished. Was that what he had heard her say?
‘You were engaged to be married when you slept with me the first time.’
His brows lifted as he struggled to decide if the jealousy he detected in her voice was wishful thinking or actually there. ‘I really wasn’t.’
‘How would she feel if you get married?’
‘Caro!’ he exclaimed, looking astonished. ‘What the hell has it got to do with her?’
Lily lowered her lashes. ‘You’re still best friends.’
He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Who says?’
Lily’s chin lifted. ‘She does, in the dedication of her new bestseller.’
One of the nurses on the ward had come on duty with a signed copy that she had shown around. The photo on the fly leaf, according to her, did not do the blonde cookery writer justice.
‘That was her idea of a joke. Caro and I were once an item. We were not engaged. That was just a publicity stunt—she was launching a new career. As for best friends, Caro and I have not been in contact since we split up, though she did send me a copy of her new book. She really is a great cook. If we’d got married I’d be the size of a tank by now.’
He glanced down and patted his muscle-toned belly. Lily stared at it too, struggling to imagine a blurring of the lines of his hard, lean body and failing.
‘She is history. I am a man with a family—I want to be a man with a family. So?’
‘You don’t have to marry me to be a family. Emmy is your family.’
Ben fought the impulse to drag her into his arms and kiss her into submission. ‘I don’t want to be a weekend father.’
‘You can see Emmy whenever you want,’ she said, feeling like a hypocrite as she thought, It means I can see you.
‘Do you really want to share out the important events in our daughter’s life—you get Christmas, I get Easter?’ He saw her expression and drove his point home.
‘I don’t know, Ben—’ Couldn’t he see she wanted love, not practicality?
He cut across her, sensing a weakening of her resolve.
‘That’s what trial runs are for—turning the don’t knows into do knows.’
I do know I love you, she thought bleakly.
‘Look, when Emily Rose is home you’ll be here—whether I have sleepover rights or I cook the breakfast is your call totally. But look at it this way—what have you got to lose?’ I have everything to lose, he thought, smiling as he waited, every nerve fibre in his body tense for her reply.
She’d seen him every day for weeks—what if that stopped? It was the idea of going cold turkey rather than his compelling argument that made her waver.
‘I suppose it could work...but not... We share the house, but not the bedroom.’
The conversation came to a halt; a nerve clenched and unclenched in his cheek. ‘And what is that meant to prove?’
‘You said you’d cook breakfast and it was my decision.’
‘It is.’ It was just not the one he’d wanted or expected to hear.
‘I want more.’
He began to walk towards her with a slow, deliberate tread, a gleam in his eyes. ‘I can give you more.’
The leashed power in him made her senses spin. ‘I know you can, but...’ She backed away, hand up in a defensive gesture, but as the things she was defending herself against were all inside her the gesture was pretty useless.
‘But what?’ When she said nothing he added, ‘Marry me.’
Biting her lip, Lily felt her determination waver just as he added, ‘For Emmy.’ As if it were the winning argument, not knowing ironically that it was what gave her the strength to shake her head.
If she was to survive loving Ben and having him in her life for Emmy’s sake, Lily knew she had to distance herself, emotionally and physically—the two were interlinked. ‘I just don’t think you’ve thought this through.’
He dragged a hand through his hair, leaving it spiked as he sat back on the bed. ‘I’ve thought about little else!’
‘I know you love Emmy and you’ve planned all this.’ Her gesture encompassed the room and beyond. ‘You want to make up for lost time. But I don’t want to play at happy families. Ben, when I get married I want it to be for the right reasons.’
‘Last night felt pretty right to me.’
‘That was sex. We can share the parenting. This is a big house...’
He turned his head slowly. ‘You think we can share this house and not a bed?’
‘We can be civilised...’
He rose to his feet and towered over her not looking at all civilised, looking primitive and raw. She struggled to catch her breath—he was awesome.
‘Speak for yourself,’ he growled. His expression toughened as he came to a decision. ‘The only promise I’m making is I won’t knock on your door in the middle of the night.’
‘You think I will?’ she exclaimed. ‘You think I’m that desperate?’
He gave a slow smile. ‘Oh, yeah, quite definitely.’
Her chin went up. ‘I’m not that person.’ Oh, yes, said the voice in her head, you are, Lily. You really are.
* * *
Lily was going to have a chance to find out sooner than she had anticipated. It was two days later that Emmy’s discharge was agreed.
The discharge papers were signed, the outpatient appointment booked, but there was a last-minute rush when the medication Emmy needed had not come up from the pharmacy.
Lily was in the middle of packing when the nurse who had been sent for them appeared.
‘Sorry about the delay, but I’ve got them now.’
‘Don’t
worry, I still haven’t finished packing. I’ve no idea how we accumulated this much stuff in a few weeks,’ Lily huffed, trying to stuff Emmy’s favourite blanket into the open bag while she balanced her daughter on one hip, a task made more difficult by the tingle on the back of her neck that told her Ben was back in the room.
He handled delays, or anything that smacked in his opinion of incompetence, badly, so in the end she’d begged him to go walk it off because him glowering was not helping.
‘Here, let me help you.’ The nurse took Emmy and handed her to Ben, saying, ‘Dad can hold her.’
Lily straightened up in time to see her daughter pull her father’s lip, twisting the skin experimentally between her small fingers.
‘Emmy, that hurts!’ Lily knew from experience that it did.
‘Aww, kiss Dada better...’ cooed the nurse.
The baby landed a damp smack on Ben’s cheek and giggled. ‘Dada, Dada...’
Above their daughter’s head she met Ben’s eyes. The emotion she saw there made her throat close over until she closed her eyes and felt a tear squeeze out. Damn, she had spent the last two days building her walls and one look and they were gone.
Share a house? He was right: it was insanity!
* * *
Two weeks later Lily had changed her mind. The only insane thing here was her. It had been building up, but the actual crisis point came as she was sniffing a sweater that Ben had left slung untidily on a chair.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked herself.
She could have the man and she was sniffing his clothing like some sort of...addict! If this went on she would go insane; it was killing her!
And Ben knew it, she thought darkly. Oh, he hadn’t said anything, but she knew he did. She did not think for one minute that there was any real need for him to walk around the house half naked and brush against her the way he did. He was torturing her and... She pressed a hand to her heaving chest and closed her eyes. God, but she ached with love for him.
She sank weakly into a chair. This had been totally unrealistic, a crazy idea... Share a house...? What had she been thinking?
