A Husband's Regret (The Unwanted Series)(37)

"Why not?" she asked in confusion.

"Because you'll hate me if we do."

"No," she denied. "I won't. I'm not that unfair, Bryce. We both want  this. I want this. Please." He was helplessly thrusting himself against  her hand and she once again tried to bring him to her.

"No, sweetheart," he managed tightly. "Just your hand. We don't have to go further than that. Just your hand is fine."

"No," she protested again. Why wouldn't he make love to her? Her hand  loosened and he groaned before reaching down and tightening his own hand  over hers.

"Don't let go," he begged hoarsely.

"Bryce, please make love to me." He groaned again and let go of her  hand. She released him, her hands moving up to stroke and caress the  rest of his body instead.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I just wanted to hold you."

"I know," she appeased, kissing his chest and neck lovingly before raising her head to meet his eyes. "It's okay."

"No," he whispered quietly. "No, it's not." He hovered for a moment  before, with a growl of brutal self-denial, he dragged himself out of  her arms and off the bed all in one swift movement. He stood at the side  of the bed, gloriously naked and painfully aroused, to stare at her for  a heartbeat before turning away and heading toward the en suite.  Bronwyn watched the door close gently behind him and an instant later,  heard the shower going on. She turned her face into the pillow with an  anguished sob and wondered at the amount of self-control it must have  taken for him to get up and leave her. She was tempted to join him in  the shower, but she knew that he believed he had done the right thing.  She could not undermine the sacrifice he had just made by stepping into  that shower with him.

She dragged herself out of the warm bed and to her own room. Knowing  that she would get no more sleep that morning, she showered as well and  tried not to think about how difficult it would be to get through the  day ahead.





CHAPTER TWELVE

Getting through the day really was a lot harder than she had anticipated  once she remembered her appointment with the lawyer that afternoon. She  was so tempted to let it slide, especially after the wonderful weekend  the Palmer family had just enjoyed, but she couldn't keep leaving things  up in the air like this. The weekend and the incident between her and  Bryce that morning had complicated matters, but it hadn't really changed  the big picture. The marriage was over, and it had been over for a very  long time. It was with a heavy heart that she kept her appointment  after her morning lectures and started the divorce proceedings. Jason  Goodson, her attorney, had been a bit dismayed to discover that despite  Bryce's sizeable assets, Bronwyn wanted nothing from him other than  continued child support and joint custody. Goodson had tried to dissuade  her from this course of action, but she had remained firm in her  decision until he'd had no choice but to accept his client's wishes.

Getting through the rest of the afternoon was hell. Nothing seemed to go  right, she couldn't concentrate enough to get any studying done, and  the bookshop was even quieter than usual. It offered no distraction from  her inner turmoil. To top off a truly miserable day, after she finished  work she discovered that she had a flat tire on her brand-spanking-new  car. To make matters even worse, her cell-phone battery had died and she  didn't have her charger. Of all days to have given Paul the day off,  this was the one time she could actually have used his help. Sobbing  with frustration, she returned to the shop to call the Automobile  Association and then waited nearly half an hour for them to arrive.  Luckily, she had discovered the flat tire before leaving work and could  safely wait for the AA inside the shop. By the time they had fixed the  tire, she was nearly an hour late and the autumn sun had already  disappeared behind the mountain. When she got home it was to find Bryce  in the kitchen feeding a happily chattering Kayla. The toddler was  intent on redistributing clumps of mashed potatoes from her bowl to her  chubby fists and onto her hair. Bryce looked up when Bronwyn entered his  field of vision, and his indulgent smile immediately faded.





  

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked in a controlled voice, his face  dark with tightly leashed anger. "I've been going out of my mind with  worry."

"I had a flat tire," she explained tiredly, dropping her bag onto the  kitchen table and sitting down next to Kayla, picking up a damp cloth to  wipe the food from the little girl's face and hair. "The AA guys  thought it may have been a slow puncture that I picked up on one of the  gravel roads yesterday."

"I've been sending message after message and getting zero response from  you," he growled, still in that frighteningly controlled voice.

"Well, my battery died." She shrugged, doggedly wiping the smudges from  Kayla's face despite the child's frantically shaking head. "I'm sorry."

He swore, startling both her and Kayla, before handing the toddler's spoon to Bronwyn and stalking from the kitchen.

"Daddy go 'way!" Kayla informed redundantly, waving happily at the door  through which her father had disappeared. Bronwyn sighed and dropped a  kiss onto the child's silky curls, grimacing when her lips met a clump  of cold food.

"You need a bath, little girl," she groaned, overcome with exhaustion at  the mere thought of it, when all she wanted was to soak her own weary  bones. "Want a bubble bath with Mummy?"

Kayla grinned and nodded happily, starting to sing a tuneless song  occasionally peppered with words like "mummy," "bath," "happy,"  "bubbles," and "play"; the rest was complete gibberish. Bronwyn laughed  as she carried the child up to the master bath, wishing Bryce could hear  the charming little ditty.

They were soon happily settled in the huge round tub and immersed in  fragrant warm water. Kayla was on Bronwyn's lap and both of them were  enjoying the massive amount of bubbles in the tub when Bryce walked in.  He halted at the door, visibly surprised to see his wife and child  sporting foam bubble caps and beards. Bronwyn yelped, feeling like an  idiot for not locking the door, but she had been so preoccupied with  Kayla that she hadn't even thought about it.

"Daddy," the child squealed, happy to see him as always. "Baf?"

"Uh . . . not right now, sweetheart." He shook his head regretfully,  raising a wicked eyebrow at Bronwyn. "Although I would love to." She  rolled her eyes at the pathetic attempt at a leer and he chuckled.

"Sorry, Bron, I thought you were giving her a bath. I didn't know you  were in the tub with her. I'll talk to you later." He turned to leave.

"Daddy no go!" Kayla demanded, fiercely unhappy that her father was  about to leave. Bronwyn groaned and buried her face between the child's  fragile shoulder blades, then looked up to meet his amused eyes.

"You might as well stay; she'll be insufferable if you don't," Bronwyn  said. He nodded, lowering the lid on the commode and sitting down,  leaning forward with his elbows resting on his denim-clad thighs and his  hands loosely clasped between his knees. Happy that her daddy was  watching, Kayla launched into full show-off mode. She decorated her  mother's face and hair with more bubbles before dragging a plastic doll  into the water and starting a chatty tea party with it. Soon she was  totally absorbed in her game, and Bryce shifted his beautiful eyes from  child to disconcerted mother.

"I didn't mean to lose my temper earlier," he murmured.

"I know." She shrugged, shampooing Kayla's hair while the child continued to play. "You were worried. I'm sorry."

"I was imagining all the worst scenarios," he admitted, lowering his  eyes to his hands. "I was on the verge of calling the police. I'd  already decided I would once I'd finished feeding Kayla." Because his  eyes weren't on her, she chose not to respond to that.

"I regret this morning too," he said after a prolonged silence  interrupted only by Kayla's happy chatter. This time he did raise his  eyes to her face. He looked both uncomfortable and sincere.

"I know," she said again. "But even though I couldn't really see it this morning, you did the right thing by leaving."

"It nearly killed me," he admitted gruffly.

"I know it wasn't easy." She nodded. "But thank you. I'm sorry for  pressuring you to stay. It would only have led to even bigger regrets."  She grabbed the showerhead and started to rinse Kayla's hair. The child  squirmed irritably when it interfered with her game.

"Kayla, sit still." Her mother's tone brooked no argument. Kayla stopped  moving and sulkily leaned back against Bronwyn's chest. Bryce watched  the two of them with a slightly dazed smile on his lips, and Bronwyn  frowned, unable to interpret the expression on his face.