You can’t do this! my mind shouted.
I tuned her out. My decision was made and that was that.
James hitched my thighs around his waist and we sank against the wall, our bodies pressed together and our mouths devouring each other’s. He was as magnificent as in my dreams, his cock as long and hard as I remembered.
The voice in my head regrouped and surged, refusing to be ignored, getting louder and louder. I told myself nothing else mattered except here and now and the zaps of pain were as intense as my rising pleasure.
Unwilling to let go of the dream, I clung to James and he held me close, murmuring my name like a prayer. He would curse me if he knew what I had done. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I fought a losing battle between truth and guilt. The bottom line was that I wasn’t the old Paisley, guided by selfishness instead of...
Love, my mind said, so softly I was forced to listen.
The realisation that I loved James hit me like a freight train. It didn’t matter that he was arrogant or high-handed. He was kind. A compassionate, tender man who was protective. Some people might scoff at those qualities ranking highest on my list, but I knew their value more than others.
James was a man with strong principles and the sort of integrity I admired, a man who strived to do the right thing no matter the circumstances. Of course it helped he was built like Beckham. He switched all my buttons on and—
Oh God. I loved James. Desperately and passionately...
And hopelessly.
No! I could have everything I wanted: a life with James and Ryan. They would never know the secret I kept, never be hurt by what I had done and I could... I could...#p#分页标题#e#
You could become Caroline, my mind said.
I could ignore what I had done and slowly rot under the weight of self-delusion. I broke off and sucked in an agonised breath. It took every ounce of willpower I had left to give James what he deserved. The truth is that love gave me the strength to do what was right.
I wrenched my mouth away. “You’re not Ryan’s father,” I said. “I lied at your wedding.”
James regarded me, bemused but still holding me close. I had his full attention. “Ryan’s biological father is called Alex Novak, a man I knew in Brighton. We fooled around and I got pregnant before I slept with you.”
The haze of desire cleared from James’s face. He stared at me, shaking his head as if he expected me to admit that I was joking.
“What are you talking about?”
My voice was stronger than I’d thought possible. “You took my virginity in Caroline’s bed but I was already pregnant, impossible as that may seem.”
I told him everything. My five minute tryst with Alex and how I came to be pregnant while still a virgin. James backed away but I wasn’t stupid enough to follow. He stood by the old sofa, rigid as I told him of the positive pregnancy test and my panic because of it, of my desire for him and the drunken decision to declare him the father of my child.
When I was finished James didn’t say a word, and as the silence lengthened I saw desolation turn his face into a wasteland. It was then that I understood why people did it, why they peppered their apologies with lame excuses and explanations. It was the desperate need to repair the damage they had done, the wish to fit something back together again even as it shattered into a million pieces.
Incoherent excuses came tumbling out of my mouth until my voice trailed away, stuttering to a stop because nothing I could say would ever make up for what I had done. It didn’t look like James registered my presence. His dark skin had gone so grey he could have been carved out of pewter.
“Did you tell me the truth in your letters?” he said.
Yes! I could say one of my letters had carried the truth years ago only he had refused to read it. If I did that, then maybe he wouldn’t despise me as much. I opened my mouth to lie—and stopped. What was the point of telling him the truth if I lied about everything else?
“No,” I said.
“Then I’m a fool twice over.”
“No!” I said, shaking my head emphatically.
James’s laugh was harsh and ugly. “I should’ve known better than to allow myself to think of you with anything other than contempt. You came back to England to blackmail me, didn’t you? To threaten me with contacting Ryan’s biological father if you didn’t get what you wanted. Everything Caroline said about you was true.”
I didn’t meet his eyes because, well, the thought of threatening him had occurred to me. What can I say? I was frustrated and angry at the time but I had discarded the idea immediately. I’d told myself it was because I didn’t want to hurt Ryan and that was true, but it was also true that I hadn’t wanted to confess my lie—least of all to James.