Her Not-So-Secret Diary(29)

'Okay,' he said finally, the remnants of his vision of a future he'd  never imagined fluttering like petals on the periphery of his  consciousness. Hitching the baby bag onto his shoulder, he picked up the  carry basket with its now cooing passenger. What choice did he have  with an infant in his care for the next few hours? 'Go and enjoy your  evening. I'll be back at eleven.'

As he turned to pull the door shut he saw her shoulders slump and her eyes held a puzzle he wished to hell he understood.



Twenty-three minutes past two. He should be doing what Sophie had asked  and making the most of the rest of the night with her. Instead, he  wandered the night-darkened esplanade, the eternal thump-boom of the  surf in his ears, his thoughts going around in circles and coming back  to what Sophie had said when he'd left earlier.

Ten days. Why let her obvious hang-ups with kids come between them and a  good time? Live and love to the max, enjoy what they had while they had  it. Wasn't that all that mattered in their 'short-term relationship'?  That was obviously what mattered to Sophie.

And it was exactly what he'd told himself he wanted. She wasn't looking for more either. So it was just about perfect, right?

Right. He turned back, following the sandy path back to his car. He  ignored the hollow feeling in his gut as he slid onto the leather seat.

But he didn't switch the ignition on. Instead, he slammed his fists on  the steering wheel. No. Not right. Nothing about this was right. Just  good times?

The hell it was.

He stared through the windscreen but he wasn't looking at the ocean  view. He was seeing Sophie leaning over the baby. Moreover, he wasn't  seeing himself as only his sisters' guardian, he was seeing himself as a  father in the truest sense of the word.

He shook his head. Wrong decade. Sophie wasn't the woman for him long  term, she was all about adventure and discovering new places. As was her  right, he told himself, and after what she'd been through, she deserved  it. Who was he to interfere with her dreams and plans? Nor was this  trip she was embarking on the end of the world. A few months. A year  tops and she'd be back. He could almost guarantee it.

Over the week Sophie had brought sunshine and summer and sparkle to what  he was only now realising had become an exceedingly dull existence.

He'd made love to her in the sea and watched the sense of humour spark  in her eyes, made love to her in the centre of a macadamia plantation  and watched the green reflected in the amber. He'd laughed more. Because  he'd found more to laugh about with Sophie to share it with.                       
       
           



       

And every now and then he'd remember she was leaving and a shadow would steal over the sun.

He forked frustrated fingers through his hair. For the second time in  his life he'd fallen for a woman. And this time he'd fallen hard. And  these feelings he had were nothing like those he'd had for Bianca.

These feelings ran deep. So deep they touched his soul and he didn't  know if he'd ever be free of them. And powerful enough to rock his world  to its very foundation. It was nothing like he'd ever  experienced-dangerously so.

Despite his deepening feelings, he wasn't prepared to compromise what he  believed in or how he wanted to live his life for someone else's whims  and fancies and ideals. Bianca hadn't fitted into the world he'd created  for himself and his sisters, so Bianca was history. Simple.

With her outlook on life so different from his own, Sophie didn't fit  into his world either. But something didn't gel and he couldn't put his  finger on what it was. Whatever it was, it was far from simple.



Sunday morning. Sophie woke to daybreak's murky light stealing over her  window sill, although she couldn't remember falling asleep. The last  time she'd checked the time it had been ten past four. She'd resisted  trying to contact Jared. He'd come when he was ready, and if he didn't …   She had no one to blame but herself.

He hadn't come.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she dragged on her dressing gown. Her  eyes felt swollen and gritty, her nose was still blocked from her crying  jag hours ago and there was an empty ache in her chest that wouldn't go  away.

She had no idea whether it was over with Jared, why he hadn't turned up  last night or what he was thinking. But rather than sitting around like a  misery guts and moping about it, she had packing to do. The furniture  belonged to the apartment but she needed to sort what she was taking  with her, and toss or store the rest.

She could ring Jared … and apologise. She headed for the kitchen. She'd  seen the disappointment in his eyes when she'd mentioned keeping tabs on  one another. No, he'd come on his own terms or not at all.

She'd just made a pot of tea when he turned up. Leaning on the door  frame with his darkly stubbled jaw, furrowed hair and bloodshot eyes, he  looked as ragged and sleep-deprived as she felt.

He was just about the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen.

She stood back to let him enter. He smelled of the beach, cool morning  air and impossible dreams. He closed the door behind him and they stared  at each other for a long moment.

She couldn't read his expression but maybe she saw something that gave  her hope? Courage? 'I missed you.' She hadn't meant to say them but the  words tumbled out.

He didn't answer. Just wrapped one large hand around the back of her  neck, hauled her face up to his and kissed her. Hard. Possessively and  with a kind of angry passion.

She felt his strength in the rigid arm that supported her, in his  rock-hard body as she melted against him. Perhaps some of that strength  would flow into her …

But no. He released her with such speed and vehemence she almost  stumbled. 'We need to cool it.' He shoved his hands in the back pockets  of his jeans and shook his head, then watched the window where the pale  sun slid through a smudge of grey. 'This has got way too intense and I  sure as hell don't need it right now. Neither do you.'

He regretted that kiss and the loss of control. The knowledge was both  painful and poignant for Sophie. But it was for the best and he was  right, they needed to put some distance between them. In one week the  man she loved would be a world-away-distant memory.

She wouldn't cancel her trip; she needed it, now more than ever. She  wouldn't try to convince him that they could be more than short term.  She wouldn't lay open her vulnerable heart and tell him the things she  wanted to tell him-that she not only wanted to be his lover but his  wife, the mother of those children he so obviously wanted and expected  of a marriage …

She couldn't give him those children and she couldn't risk seeing the  light in his eyes dull to disappointment when she told him.

She should back off now, tell him it had been fun then pack up and go to  Brisbane for the last week until her flight left from there, and never  see him again.

But with the party next weekend, she couldn't let Melissa or Jared down now and Jared had paid her up front to do the job.

She'd never been a quitter, she told herself, ignoring the little voice  saying, Except where Jared's concerned. And the thought of never seeing  him again was too painful, what with him standing within touching  distance, larger than life and twice as thrilling. Twice as precious.                       
       
           



       

'So what are you trying to say?' she asked his back. She didn't want to know. She had to know. Better to know now …

For the second time, he didn't answer her. Turning around, he didn't  give her time to read his expression, just swept her into his arms and  carried her towards the bedroom like an impatient man claiming what  belonged to him …



They didn't talk at all, they made love. Tumultuous lovemaking of the  deep and dark and desperate kind that satisfied the flesh but resolved  nothing.

Jared didn't give her time to refuse or argue or demand. He wanted her  now-all of her-heart, body and mind-all, and with an urgency he'd never  known.

And she gave him everything. He felt it flow from her like a  fast-flowing stream. Momentarily sweeping away those earlier doubts and  questions on a tide of emotion he struggled to contain.

After, he held her trapped within his arms, breathing in the musky scent  of their own creation. Revelled in the silken rain of ebony hair that  cascaded over his shoulder and down his chest. His words had dried up  like cockles in the sun. He couldn't remember a single one. One look at  her when she'd opened the door all mussed and flushed and sleepy and all  he could think was, Home. All he knew was that he wanted her. In every  way. Whatever the cost. Whatever the sacrifice, whatever the risk.

But how would she respond if he opened his heart and told her? Would she  be willing to make that sacrifice too, and take that risk with him? Was  he even ready to find out?