EIGHT
AMAZINGLY, in view of her misery, Melody must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew was the taxi stopping and Zeke’s voice saying they were back at the hotel.
‘Come on, sleepyhead.’ His voice was tender, indulgent, as he helped her out of the car. ‘How about you change into something comfortable when we get to the suite? Maybe have a warm bath first? It’ll take Room Service a while to deliver once we’ve ordered so you’ll have plenty of time.’
She glanced at him as they walked into the foyer, knowing her limp was more pronounced tonight but unable to do anything about it. ‘I think I’ll go straight to my room,’ she said tightly. ‘And I’m not hungry. I’ll skip dinner, if you don’t mind.’
‘Hungry or not, you need to eat.’
‘No, Zeke. I don’t. I told you—I’m going straight to bed.’
They had reached the lift, and once the doors closed he faced her in the carpeted little box, his voice dangerously soft. ‘Dinner is compulsory, Dee. Unless you want me to choose for you, I suggest you look at the menu.’
‘For goodness’ sake.’ Truly exasperated, she glared at him. ‘What are you going to do? Force-feed me?’ she said irritably.
‘If necessary.’ He nodded. ‘Exactly that.’
She could see he wasn’t joking. ‘I’m not a child, Zeke.’
‘Then don’t act like one. You have been seriously ill and you’re still recovering. You need good food and plenty of it.’
This was ridiculous. ‘I think I’m quite capable of knowing when I want to eat, thank you very much,’ she said tartly.
Zeke raised his eyebrows as a smile flickered across his sexy mouth. The action said far more than words could have done and aggravated her further. Did he have to be so irritatingly chauvinistic? Melody thought waspily. And so certain he was always right?
She gave him what she hoped was a quelling glare and stared at the lift door as though it was the most interesting thing on the planet, knowing it was useless to argue. Nevertheless she was bristling like a furious little alley cat, determined not to give ground, when they opened the door to their suite. Whether Zeke was right or wrong didn’t matter. It was his peremptory attitude that had got under her skin.
The lights from the Christmas tree and the couple of lamps Zeke had left on made the sitting room dangerously cosy as they took off their coats—a miniature home from home. Zeke slung his jacket on a chair, loosening his bow tie and opening the first two or three buttons of his shirt as he walked across to the coffee table where the room service menu was sitting. ‘Now,’ he murmured smoothly. ‘I think the steak will do me nicely. How about you? And the raspberry and limoncello trifle sounds good. I’m starving.’
Melody plumped down sulkily on one of the sofas. She wouldn’t have admitted to a living soul that her mouth had watered as he spoke. ‘I had beef for lunch,’ she said stiffly.
‘How about oven-poached salmon with fennel and beetroot?’ Zeke suggested amiably. ‘That’s a light alternative and not so rich as most of the other dishes. Perfect to tempt the appetite.’
She shrugged, knowing she was acting like the child he had accused her of being but not knowing how else to protect herself against the temptation he presented. He looked more hard and sexy than any man had the right to look, and his lazy air and lack of aggression didn’t fool her one bit. ‘I think I will have a bath,’ she said flatly, as Zeke picked up the telephone, leaving the room without waiting for him to reply.
Once in her bedroom she shut the door and leaned her weight against it, wondering for the umpteenth time how she had got herself into this situation. ‘It’s just one night,’ she whispered. ‘Nothing has really changed.’ Her plans hadn’t altered, and Zeke couldn’t keep her married to him by force when all was said and done. She just had to keep her head and by this time tomorrow she could be somewhere else—anywhere else. Her soft mouth dropped unknowingly and she levered herself upright with a shuddering sigh.
She wanted to be a million miles away from Zeke, and yet she longed to be where she could see and watch and touch him every minute of every day. How was that for inconsistency? And she couldn’t let him see or even sense what she was feeling. She was no match for him at the best of times and his formidably intelligent mind and finely honed senses—attributes which had caused him to rise like a meteor in the world he inhabited—were at their most astute when concentrated on a problem he needed to solve. And at the moment she had no doubt that was how he viewed this situation. He hadn’t even begun to accept their marriage was over, everything about him proclaimed it, and so she had to remain strong and focused.
Melody didn’t linger in the bath, drying herself thoroughly and slipping into a pyjama vest top and matching loose trousers and then pulling on the fluffy bathrobe for added protection. She hadn’t heard a sound from outside her room but as she opened the bedroom door she could hear carols being sung. A carol concert was in full swing on the TV as she entered the sitting room, young choir boys singing ‘Silent Night’ with a purity of tone that was inexpressibly poignant.
Zeke was sprawled on one of the sofas, his long legs stretched out in front of him and a glass of brandy at his elbow. He looked broodingly tough and fascinatingly sexy, and Melody’s mouth went dry at the sight of him. His eyes opened as she walked into the room and he straightened slightly, indicating his drink with a wave of his hand. ‘Like one?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve had more than enough today, thanks,’ she said, pleased her voice sounded so normal when her heart was pounding like a drum. ‘I haven’t had any alcohol for the last three months, don’t forget.’
‘I haven’t forgotten one second of the last three months, believe me. The time’s engraved on my memory for ever. Sheer hell.’
He had moved so she could join him on the sofa but she deliberately sat facing him on the opposite one, pretending an interest in the cathedral where the concert was being filmed as she tucked her feet under her legs, curling up and pulling the robe over her toes. ‘It’s very beautiful,’ she said quietly. ‘There’s a timeless quality to such places, isn’t there?’
‘Why have you shut me out so completely?’ His voice wasn’t accusing, in fact it was verging on conversational, and for a moment the words didn’t register. ‘I mean, I’d really like to know.’
‘Zeke, please don’t start this again. It’s no good.’
‘For such a soft, gentle creature you can be as hard as iron when you want to be,’ he said thoughtfully.
Stung, she met his gaze. ‘I’m not hard.’
‘Not with the rest of the world, no. Just with me. Why is that? What is it about me that makes you believe I don’t bleed when I’m cut? That I don’t feel like other people?’
She drew in a deep breath. ‘I know the last months have been hard for you too. I do know that. But that doesn’t make any difference to now.’
‘Do you blame me for the fact I wasn’t with you when it happened?’ he asked quietly. ‘That’s completely understandable. I hold myself responsible. I could have—should have—prevented it. I let you down and it’s unforgivable.’
Shocked beyond measure, she stared at him. ‘Of course I don’t blame you. How could I?’
‘Very easily,’ he said flatly, leaning forward so his hands were clasped between his knees, his dark gaze tight on her pale face. ‘We were supposed to meet for lunch that day. I would have been with you but for that problem that arose. If I hadn’t cancelled, put a damn business meeting before my wife—’
‘Stop it, Zeke,’ she whispered, horrified. ‘The accident was nothing to do with you. It was me. For a brief moment of time I didn’t think. It’s as simple as that. Probably countless thousands of people have momentary lapses of concentration every day. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time to have mine. But it wasn’t your fault.’
She had forgotten they’d been supposed to meet at a little bistro that day, before he had called and made his apologies; the trauma of the accident and the following days and nights of unconsciousness had wiped it from her mind. But even if she had remembered she would never have imagined he blamed himself for what had happened. Zeke was such a logical man—so rational and clear-headed. She couldn’t believe he had been condemning himself all this time. The fault had been hers and hers alone.
He stood restlessly to his feet, shaking his head. ‘I don’t see it that way but we won’t argue about it.’ His eyes held hers. ‘I’m not going to let you go, Dee. Not after nearly losing you three months ago.’
It was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life to look back at him and speak the painful truth. ‘You have no choice. It takes two to make a partnership and I can’t do it any more. I need…’ She paused, knowing her voice was shaking but unable to keep the tremours from showing. ‘I want a divorce, Zeke. Our lives are set to go down different paths now. Surely you see that as much as I do? We can’t go back to the way things were. It’s over.’
Two small words that cut like a knife through all the intimacy they had shared, the good times, the laughter, the joy and pleasure. She watched his face change, becoming set and rigid, as though he’d pulled a mask into place hiding any emotion. ‘And what I want and feel counts for nothing?’
Melody unconsciously gripped her hands together, struggling for composure. ‘I’m doing this for you as well as me—’
‘Don’t give me that.’ He didn’t shout, but the tone of his voice stopped her mid-sentence. ‘That’s too easy a get-out and you know it. Never once today have you asked me what I want or how I’m feeling. You’ve simply stated you’re walking and that’s that. No discussion, no compromise, no nothing.’
She could see why it appeared that way to him, but how could she explain it was sheer self-survival driving her? She had always felt out of her depth in Zeke’s world, but before the accident she had known she was out of the ordinary in one way—her dancing. She was good, more than good, and it had been the foundation of who she was—for right or wrong. Now that foundation was gone, smashed by a ten-ton truck…
The ball of pain in her stomach that had nothing to do with her accident and all to do with leaving Zeke contracted suddenly, as though a steel fist had been driven deep into her solar plexus. Without picking her words, she whispered, ‘When I was a little girl I was always on the outside looking in. I didn’t get invited to parties or to tea with anyone. No one waited to walk home from school with me or called for me at the weekends to go to the park or play at their house. Of course looking back now I know it was because my grandmother never let me have friends round and she wasn’t friendly with the other mothers, but then I thought it was me. That the other girls didn’t like me—thought me odd because I hadn’t got a mother and father like them. Perhaps they did or didn’t. I don’t know. But then I found that when I danced the rest of the world didn’t matter. I lost myself. I wasn’t me any more. And my grandmother encouraged it, knowing how much it meant to me. She did do that for me.’
‘While effectively screwing you up in every other way.’
Taken aback by the bitterness and outrage in his voice, Melody shook her head quickly. ‘No, no she didn’t. She—she did the best she could—the same as we all do, I suppose. She didn’t have to take me in, she could have let me go into care, but she didn’t. And she had been hurt—badly. I think she loved my grandfather very much, and certainly she never got over him. Her way of dealing with it was to hide her pain behind a façade of being tough. And she had lost her daughter too—my mother. She had a lot to cope with.’
‘You’re making excuses for her. You always do,’ he said softly, the harshness gone from his voice.
‘I’m trying to explain.’ The unexplainable. And opening up like this terrified her. But he deserved this at least.
‘Dee, you’re more than a dancer. You’ve always been more than a dancer.’ He’d come and crouched in front of her as he spoke, his trousers stretched tight over muscled thighs.
The temperature in the room rose about twenty degrees and all coherent thought went out of Melody’s head. She stared at him, knowing he was going to kiss her and wanting it more than she had wanted anything in her life.
The polite knock at the door to the suite followed by a male voice calling, ‘Room Service,’ came as a drenching shock. Zeke reacted before she did, standing up and walking across the room while Melody made a heroic effort to pull herself together.
The man bustled in with a laden serving trolley, quickly and efficiently setting the small table in a corner of the room with cutlery and napkins, lighting the two candles in a silver candelabrum which he’d brought with him and placing it in the centre of the table. ‘Would you like me to serve the food, sir?’ he asked Zeke, after he’d opened the bottle of wine Zeke had obviously ordered and offered him a taste before pouring a little into two large wine glasses.
Zeke glanced across at Melody, who was still sitting on the sofa. ‘No, we’ll be fine. Thank you, and happy Christmas.’
He slipped the man a tip which made the waiter’s, ‘And a very merry Christmas to you, sir, madam,’ positively euphoric as he left, and as Melody joined him at the table Zeke pulled out a chair, unfolding her napkin and placing it in her lap as she sat down. ‘May I serve the first course, madam?’
Lifting the covers off two delicate white-and-silver bowls, he revealed creamy, steaming soup which smelt divine. ‘I didn’t order this.’ Melody glanced into his dark face.
‘I thought we’d do it properly.’ He slid a fresh crusty roll onto a small plate next to her soup and then took his own place at the table. ‘Eat,’ he ordered softly.
The soup was as delicious as it smelt, and the salmon which followed equally good. Zeke talked of inconsequential matters with a comfortable ease which relaxed Melody in spite of herself, teasing her a little and making her laugh, his humour gentle and self-deprecating. Lulled into a mellow state of mind by Zeke’s lazy air, the light yet satisfying food and the wine she sipped almost unconsciously, Melody found herself drifting in a haze of well-being. She felt calm and peaceful inside, she realised with a little shock of self-awareness. For the first time in months. It was such an alien sensation.
By the time Zeke brought out the desserts Melody was sure she couldn’t eat another thing, but the Madeira cake spread with lemon curd, dosed with limoncello liqueur and topped off with raspberries and a mascarpone custard was the perfect end to a perfect meal and she ate every morsel. Replete, she finished the last of her wine, and when Zeke got up from the table and pulled her over to one of the sofas, sitting down beside her, she didn’t protest.
‘It’s midnight,’ he murmured after a moment or two, his voice smoky-soft. ‘Happy Christmas, darling.’
Darling. He shouldn’t call her darling, she thought, but then she pushed the reasoning behind it away, not wanting anything to intrude on the moment. She watched as he reached into his pocket, bringing out a small package which he handed her, kissing her once very lightly. ‘What is it?’ she said suspiciously.
‘Open it and see.’
‘Zeke, I didn’t want anything—’
‘Shush.’ His mouth was harder, more insistent, and this time the kiss left her entire body trembling when he raised his head. ‘Open it,’ he said again, his voice husky.
The eternity ring was exquisite: sparkling diamonds and emeralds set into a delicate ring of white gold. When Zeke slid it onto her finger it nestled perfectly between her wedding ring and engagement ring, which was a beautiful thing in itself, with emeralds clustered round a magnificent diamond. Melody stared down at the glittering stones, anguish vying with other emotions she couldn’t even bring a name to. She pressed the palms of her hands onto her eyes, hating herself for what she was doing to him.
Zeke gently brought her fingers away from her face by grasping her wrists, his dark eyes gazing into her tormented ones when she stared at him. He had aged in the past three months, she realised with a little shock of mortification. Time had become ingrained in the features of his face, the way it did when someone had suffered unbearable bereavement or loss. Had he unconsciously let go of her? In some deep recess of his mind had he known what they’d had was over? Was that it? Knowing Zeke as she did, he would have fought such a feeling. He would have felt he was letting her down.
‘I love you,’ he said simply. ‘That’s all this means. I will always love you. This feeling isn’t optional. It’s not something I can turn on and off. When you came into my life I thought I was doing all right, that I was autonomous, cool—call it what you will. Your arrival was unexpected and unsolicited. I wasn’t looking for for ever. I don’t think I even understood the notion until you stood on that stage and danced your way into my heart.’
Her breath caught in her throat. ‘I can’t dance any more.’
‘But you are here. That’s all that matters.’ He lowered his head until their lips were millimetres apart. ‘You have to believe that, Dee, because I don’t know how to convince you beyond saying it and showing you how much I love you.’
With a soft exhalation she accepted his mouth on hers. She fell against him, needing his strength, his maleness, his overwhelming virility, all the qualities she’d missed so deeply. He kissed her heavy eyelids, one after the other, pressing them closed as though he knew she needed to shut everything but the feel and taste of him out of her mind. Melody found herself in a velvety darkness made up entirely of what his body was doing to hers, her desire mounting as he deliberately deepened the kiss until the reality of the touch and taste and smell of him was irresistible, a fire which burnt everything in its path. She wanted him. She ached with it.
He picked her up in his arms, carrying her towards his bedroom. He manoeuvred the door open and carried her over the threshold as gently as if she were a china figurine. Kicking the door shut behind him, he walked into the dark bedroom, lit only by the soft shadowed glow of a bedside lamp he must have left on earlier.
Melody tensed as he laid her down on the bed, but instantly he was beside her, wrapping his arms round her in a gesture intended to reassure and comfort. There was no force, no urgency, his mouth caressing her lips with small kisses that gave pleasure without demanding a response.
Her breasts were pressed against the hard wall of his chest, and slowly and repetitively Zeke began stroking her back, his mouth moving all over her face in the same swift kisses as his fingers carefully worked down her spine from her tense shoulders to the seductive flare of her hips. Gradually she relaxed again, her body curving into his as his lips returned to her mouth and he kissed her more deeply, his skilful hands and mouth evoking the burning desire she remembered from the past.
When he removed the robe she was barely aware of it, and then he pulled the pyjama top over her head, caressing the silky skin of her throat and shoulders and nuzzling at the hollow of her collarbone before kissing her breasts one by one. She moaned deep in her throat when his mouth seized one nipple, giving it exquisite attention before moving to the other, and now her hands moved feverishly over his flesh, pulling the shirt away from his body so she could run her fingers over the hair-roughened muscle rippling with each movement he made.
Her mouth moved where her fingers had explored, her tongue curling round a copper nipple that beaded at her touch. She could taste a faint saltiness on his skin, the smell of lemon from the soap he used mingling with a more earthy scent. She had told him once in the early days of their marriage that she thought he was beautiful and he’d laughed, saying only women were beautiful. But he was wrong. He was beautiful, his body as powerful and perfectly honed as the statues of the old Greek gods that graced Mount Olympus.
‘I’ve missed this,’ he murmured huskily. ‘Not necessarily the sex but being able to hold you, to know that you’re there, that I only have to stretch out my hand to touch you.’
She knew what he meant. There were some things more intimate than the act of intercourse—small actions between a couple that spoke of a relationship, of sharing, of being committed.
‘Mind you, sex is great,’ he added in a hoarse whisper as her hand felt for his arousal, finding the taut flesh between his legs and stroking it. ‘I’m not advocating celibacy.’
The dark shadows gave her the confidence to flow with what was happening, and when he removed her pyjama bottoms and the rest of his own clothes her arms reached for him, pulling him on top of her. She wasn’t allowing herself to think. If she thought her conscience would force her to stop this, unfair on him as it was, because this one night wouldn’t change anything. And so she didn’t think. She just felt and touched and tasted.
Now he was naked her hand circled and caressed his huge erection again, knowing she was inflicting a pleasure-pain as he groaned and caught her wrist. ‘We’re going to take this slow and easy,’ he breathed raggedly. ‘We’ve waited too long to rush things, but I’m only human, Dee.’
His eyes glittered like an animal’s in the near darkness, his face planes and hollows, and she reached up and placed her palms along either side of his face. Although he had shaved earlier the stubble already coming through gave his skin a rough, sandpapery texture that was at odds with the boyish quiff falling across his forehead. ‘Tonight it’s just me and you,’ she whispered breathlessly. ‘No past, no future, just the present. I want to make love to you, Zeke. I want to feel you inside me again.’
‘Not as much as I want to be there.’ He kissed her again, a kiss she more than matched, but when she tried to guide him into her again he removed her hand. ‘Later,’ he murmured. ‘We have all the time in the world.’
He began to touch and taste every inch of her body, teasing her with a slow sensuality that had her mindless and panting beneath his ministrations. Her skin became sensitised all over, the feminine core of her throbbing and swelling as she twisted and quivered under his mouth and hands.
Their lovemaking was as good as it had ever been, and the feelings were the same, but different. Before she had imagined they knew all there was to know about each other. Now she felt she didn’t know herself, let alone Zeke. But one thing she was sure about was that she wanted him, and she wanted him because she loved him. She would always love him. She knew that now. It was part of what had terrified her after the accident. Maybe deep inside it had always terrified her. Love gave the beloved such power, such control. It had broken her grandmother, probably her mother too, and it would break her if she stayed and let it happen.
And then all reasoning became blurred again as desire took over—a desire only Zeke could quench. He moved slightly and she felt the tip of his masculinity at the mound between her thighs. He moved again and entered her just the tiniest bit, causing her legs to wrap round him as her body urged him closer and she arched her hips.
His mouth found hers once more, his lips warm and firm, and as his tongue thrust a path into her inner sweetness he possessed her to the full, the sensation extremely satisfying. He waited one moment, while her body adjusted to the swollen hardness of him, and then began to thrust strongly, building their shared excitement as the pleasure became almost unbearable in its intensity.
When the moment of climax came Melody thought she would shatter into a million pieces, her muscles contracting so violently that Zeke reached his peak a second later, his body shuddering as he groaned her name. And when the pulsing of their flesh quietened he collapsed on top of her, burying his face in the curve of her throat as he murmured her name again, his voice tender and soft.
It was a while before he half lifted himself on one elbow, studying her flushed face as he said lazily, ‘Wow. If this is what a period of abstinence does, it’s not all bad.’ He smoothed a lock of hair from one cheek, his tough light. ‘You’re something else, woman.’
‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ she managed fairly normally, thankful his mood was so relaxed and lighthearted. She couldn’t have handled any more soul-searching right at this moment. A part of her knew that Zeke would see their making love as a means of putting everything right between them, but she would deal with that when she had to.
He pulled the duvet over them both, tucking her against him with his arm round her shoulders. ‘How can even a hotel room become home when you’re with the person you love, whereas our house was just bricks and mortar with you gone? It’s made me realise I could live in a mud hut and be perfectly happy if you were there.’
Melody forced a creditable laugh. ‘I can’t see you in a mud hut—not unless it was fitted with internet access and enough mod-cons to let you keep your finger on the pulse.’
There was a moment of vibrating silence before Zeke shifted, lifting her chin so he could meet her eyes. ‘Is that so?’ he said lazily. ‘If someone heard that who didn’t know me they’d think I was a control freak.’
She never had known when he was joking, and she didn’t now. She looked at him for several long seconds before she saw the twinkle in his eye. ‘Oh, you,’ she murmured weakly, snuggling into the side of him.
‘Actually, you’ve got me all wrong.’ He kissed the top of her head, his voice rumbling deep inside his chest where she pressed her face against his torso. ‘Like I said to you before, my work doesn’t control me. It never has. I do what I do because I enjoy it and because it has been fulfilling on the whole. Sometimes a situation has gripped me and I’ve put too much effort in for too little reward, but not often. Other times I’ve made mistakes. Like the time I cancelled a certain luncheon engagement because of a crisis that I thought only I could solve. Biggest mistake of my life.’
He paused, his voice wry when he said, ‘Maybe there has been a touch of control freak there after all, but no more.’
A leopard couldn’t change its spots, and why should Zeke change, anyway? She had known what she was getting into when she’d married him after all. But things had been different then. She had been different. And she couldn’t go back to how she’d been.
Suddenly all the reasons why it had been madness to sleep with him again were there, panic coursing through her as she realised what she’d done. She wasn’t aware that she had tensed or changed her position in any way, but she must have done, because his voice was deep and expressionless when he said, ‘What’s the matter? You’re retreating again.’
She wriggled out of his arms, swinging her legs over the side of the bed as she said, ‘Don’t be silly. I—I need the bathroom.’ She looked for her pyjamas, but the items of clothing scattered on the floor all looked the same in the shadows. The thought of walking to the en-suite naked was unthinkable. What if he put the main lights on or followed her? But she couldn’t sit there all night. The thoughts flowed with the swiftness of terror. And if she started scrabbling about for her pyjamas she’d look ridiculous.
‘Dee?’ He touched her back and she flinched. ‘Have I said something? I was trying to be honest.’
‘It’s fine.’ Even to herself her voice sounded brittle. Knowing she had to do something, and fast, she stood up and practically ran to his bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it for a moment before grabbing the white towelling hotel robe from the back of it and sliding it on. Jerking the belt tight, she shut her eyes in relief, her breath expelling in a deep sigh. She was safe. He hadn’t seen her.
She had known Zeke would follow. When a tap came at the door her eyes opened. ‘Dee? Are you okay?’ he called softly.
She pulled the belt tighter. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ His voice was strained.
‘I’m all right, I promise. I just need a minute, that’s all. Please, Zeke. I’ll be out in a moment.’
There was a pause, and she could almost hear his mind whirring. Then his voice came quiet and steady. ‘I’ll get us a drink. What would you like? Wine? Fruit juice? Or coffee, tea, hot chocolate? There’s plenty in the fridge as well as hot drinks.’
Numbly, she forced her lips to move. ‘A coffee. Thanks.’
‘Don’t be long.’ A pause. ‘I miss you already.’
She waited until she was sure he’d gone and then turned on the light, staring at her reflection in the mirror over the wash basin. A wild-eyed, pale-faced woman stared back at her and she barely recognised herself in the haunted features.
What had she done? What had she done? And what sort of message had sleeping with him sent to Zeke? No, Zeke, I don’t want to stay married to you. Oh, yes, Zeke, you can take me to bed. No, Zeke, there’s no future for us. Oh, yes, Zeke, the more intimate we are the better.
She sat down on the edge of the bath, her fingers pressing tight into her closed eyelids as though she could shut out the memory of the past hour, erase it from her mind by an iron will. But of course that was impossible. She’d done some stupid things in her life but this went far beyond stupid. Infinitely beyond. It was cruel and selfish and unreasonable and totally unforgivable. He would hate her now and she didn’t blame him.
She was still berating herself when another tap came at the door. Zeke’s voice was light, with a thread of steel. ‘If you don’t come out, I’m coming in.’
Her hands tightened on the edge of the bath and then she stood up, opening the door. ‘I was just coming.’
‘I thought you’d prefer coffee in the sitting room,’ Zeke said coolly. He was wearing the black silk pyjama bottoms and nothing else, and he looked hard and tough and sexy, his hair ruffled and his eyes ebony-dark as they scoured her face. ‘And then perhaps you can tell me why you left our bed like a scalded cat. I was under the mistaken impression it’d been great.’
His words caught her on the raw, but at least the dose of adrenaline provided the strength she needed to face him. ‘Firstly, it’s not our bed. It’s yours,’ she pointed out, sailing past him and making her way into the sitting room. ‘Secondly, I did not leave like a scalded cat or a scalded anything.’
She glanced at the coffee table, where coffee and a plate of biscuits were waiting, a sofa pulled close, and then walked across to the window, opening the curtains and looking out. It was snowing again—beautiful, starry flakes that whirled and danced as though they were enjoying their brief life to the full.
She was aware of Zeke coming up behind her and then his arms enclosed her. Her back rested against his chest and his chin nuzzled her hair. ‘Okay, let’s have it,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve got the message that all is not yet resolved.’
She didn’t know how to say it. ‘I—I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,’ she said lamely, hating herself.
‘Lady, I don’t know if I’m on foot or horseback,’ he drawled with dark amusement, ‘so the wrong idea’s the least of it. That was you I made love with a while ago, wasn’t it? You haven’t got a clone who doubles for you now and again?’
‘What I mean is—’
‘What you mean,’ he interrupted, turning her round to face him but still keeping her in the circle of his arms, ‘is that in spite of having your wicked way with me you are still holding to this ridiculous notion of a divorce. Correct?’
She couldn’t tell if he was furious and hiding it extremely well, or if the slightly sardonic attitude was for real. Zeke was a master of the inscrutable. Warily, she nodded.
‘Okay. So you’ve got that off your chest. Drink your coffee.’
He had to take this seriously. ‘Zeke, you have to understand—’
He stopped her with a breath-stealing kiss. ‘Come and have your coffee and biscuits. And then we’re going to talk some. We should probably have talked before we finished up in the bedroom, but I never did profess to be perfect.’
‘There’s nothing to say,’ she protested helplessly.
‘There’s plenty. Let me put it this way, Dee. Until you can convince me it’s over, it’s not over.’
Melody stiffened in defence of his arrogance, her hands pushing against the wall of his chest. ‘Let me go.’
‘Sure.’ She was free immediately. ‘But you still have to convince me. You’re part of me, Dee. One half of the whole. I have certain rights. You married me, remember?’
‘You talk as if you own me.’ She was shaking inside, his closeness a sweet torment, but she knew if she didn’t attack she would be lost. ‘Do you know that? Is that what you believe?’
‘Only in as much as you own me,’ he said softly. ‘It works both ways. You gave me your love and so that’s mine—as my love is yours. The difference between us is that I trust you. I trust you with everything I am and everything I have. But you’re not there yet, are you? There’s still a question mark hanging over my head like the sword of Damocles. True trust involves commitment, becoming vulnerable, Dee. It can make you feel exposed and frightened. Oh, yes, it can. Don’t look at me like that. Do you think you’re the only one who’s scared rigid at the enormity of what true love and trust involves? But it’s worth it. In the long run, it’s worth it.’
She shook her head, unaware of the tears coursing down her face until he stepped forward and stroked the moisture away with his fingers. ‘It’s going to be okay,’ he reassured her very quietly, his eyes dark and steady. ‘You’re a good person and so am I. In fact I’m a great person. We’re destined to be together.’
It was so silly that she had to smile, as he’d meant her to. ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ she whispered, in such a low voice he could barely hear her, ‘but better that now than later. This—us—it’s impossible, Zeke.’
He drew her over to the sofa, pushing her down and handing her a coffee made from the complementary tray left in the room. ‘This is your night.’ He put a biscuit in the saucer of her cup. ‘A night that laughs at the impossible. Only believe.’
That was just it. She couldn’t. Melody put the cup to her lips, not even noticing the milk was the long-life sort that she hated. She couldn’t believe any more.