Salvation (54 page)

I collapsed on the floor, hugging the bowl and heaving until there was nothing left inside of me. I was spiralling into a familiar dark tunnel, self-pity and regret suffocating my brain. How could I have been so stupid? Allowing another man to screw over my life
again
? Cursing my weakness, I hauled my sorry arse up to the basin.

The hollow face blinking back at me in the mirror, all blotchy red, pale skin and swollen unfocused eyes, wasn’t me. It was the
old
me. The woman who had been here before and sworn never to let this happen again.

Yet as I glared at myself, I saw something new. There was a spark of fight in my eyes that hadn’t been there the last time I was heartbroken. All it had taken to free my spirit was one special person, a man who had forced me to confront what was really going on inside my head. I was still clinging onto my hatred for Stuart and had vented all my pent up animosity and resentment onto Nate. My past had found its way to my present—because I allowed it to.

I brushed my teeth and staggered to bed, kicking off my heels in spectacular fashion. They flew across the room and landed with a thud—one by the door, the other targeting the chandelier before dropping onto the bed. Not caring, I dragged the cover over my fully clothed body and curled into a ball.

The pain crippled me. My whole body pined for Nate. The man who’d made me believe in possibilities, who’d dared me to dream again, given life to my fractured soul. He had single-handedly broken down all of my barriers and made me feel.

I hated how I’d humiliated myself. How I’d let Stuart and those bitches at Nate’s table win. I’d never been so possessive of a man as I was Nate, and seeing him with Yasmina had wound me up, made me launch accusations that deep down I knew were completely untrue.

And that was the difference. This time, I knew I’d made a terrible assumption and drawn stupid conclusions. Nate would never intentionally deceive me.

“I won’t chase you…” His warning echoed in my inebriated head. I hugged the sheet to my chest.

“No going back,” I mumbled sleepily, the haze of slumber beckoning. “You’ve lost him…you walked…”

THE IRRITATING SOUND of the intercom being repeatedly pressed roused me from a tortured sleep. Groaning, I dragged the pillow over my head, praying to be left alone. When peace had been restored, I lifted my head, blinking in the emerging daylight seeping through the crack in the curtains.
God, I felt rough.

I closed my eyes, desperate for more solace from sleep. Anything to avoid the reminder of last night from eating into my thoughts. The intercom went again. “It’s six-thirty!” I moaned aloud after checking the time. There was only one person this persistent. I swung my legs out of bed, taking a minute to let the room stop spinning before standing.

“Thought I asked you to leave me alone, Mai?” I mumbled into the handset.

“Kara.” Nate’s hesitant rasp made the hair on my nape stand on end. “Let me in.”

Okay, maybe there were
two
headstrong people in my life. I leant my forehead on the wall and closed my eyes, my whole body sagging with resignation. I pressed the buzzer and wandered to the door to wait.

Steady footsteps grew louder. I leant into the open door, desperate to regain some physical and mental strength. My breath caught, my heart thumped wildly in my chest when Nate rounded the stairwell and paused. Anxious eyes met mine, holding me captive for a split second. Then, his whole demeanour altered. He grew taller, climbing the last few stairs with renewed purpose.

“Christ, you look terrible,” he muttered.

“You don’t look so hot yourself.” Except he did. He was wearing long navy shorts and a simple white t-shirt. It was obvious he hadn’t slept much, yet the fact he was mad, brooding and serious somehow made his face more austerely stunning. Mix that with how good he smelt, all fresh and outdoorsy, and I was done for.

“Hope you didn’t drive over,” I muttered, “you’ve been drinking whiskey all night.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed. He shoved the door wider and barged past. “If you’d taken a second to check instead of coming over all guns blazing, you’d know my drink of choice was the beer. I don’t touch spirits, Kara,” he growled. “Neither do I condone drinking and driving.”

He set the basket of groceries tucked under his left arm on the kitchen counter and headed to the bedroom. Having no idea what was happening, I hurried after him. In the private sanctuary of my room, awareness of him and all that we’d shared rushed through my bloodstream, spreading a yearning for a connection lost until every bone in my fragile body hurt. Nate kept his back to me, grabbing my treasured vintage Givenchy overnight bag from the closet and carelessly tossing it on the bed. If I wasn’t so upset over everything else, I might’ve cried.

“You can’t steamroll your way in here, acting like nothing’s happened!” I yanked open the curtains and blinds, wincing at the sharp intrusion of daylight to my hungover brain.

“Oh, I disagree,” he said calmly. He went to my underwear drawer and grabbed a handful. “When you strut into the bar acting completely irrationally, behaving so out of fucking character, I can do whatever the hell I want.” Stuffing the delicates into the bag, he returned to the closet to grab some clothes. “I’m furious with you.”

“Me? I’m not the one fucking around with someone else!” I moved to the bed, pulling the lingerie from the bag and attempted to pair up the sets.

“You don’t truly believe that.” It wasn’t a question. Nate stopped his mindless browsing of my clothes and turned, crossing his arms.

And honestly, I didn’t. I collapsed onto the edge of the bed, lace and organza scrunched in my hands. “I don’t strut.”

“No. You don’t,” he muttered, “because you have no fucking idea how brilliant you are, how incredibly beautiful your fractured soul is. That you have absolutely no reason to fear
any
other woman in my life.” He came over and lifted my chin with a finger. He was still mad, but those magnificent eyes warmed as they looked directly into mine. “You’re the only one, Kara. The only one who matters.”

“What do you want, Nate?” I asked wearily.

“You.” He left me reeling in the bedroom and returned to the kitchen, choosing not to acknowledge me when I finally recovered from his declaration and joined him a few minutes later.

“You don’t chase women,” I pointed out, hiding my delight that he was here as I slid onto a stool. Watching him make coffee with such familiarity of my home caused a sob to bubble and catch in my throat.

“I don’t,” he said curtly, taking the milk from the fridge. He shook the carton and peered inside, checking the tiny amount left. With a muttered obscenity, he tossed it in the bin and started unpacking the basket. He added a dash of fresh milk to my coffee and handed it over. “You have me doing all shitloads of crazy things I’ve never done before. The fact I
am
here should tell you a hell of a lot about the magnitude of my feelings for you.”

It spoke volumes. When Nate said something, he meant it and stuck by it, and no-one could persuade him otherwise once his mind was made up. No-one it seemed, except for me. Because here he was. Feigning indifference, I sipped my coffee.

“Or maybe not,” he mocked, glowering at me with steely blue eyes, “because you already have this preconceived opinion of what I’m about. Of the type of man I am.” He started opening and closing cupboards with force. “Who gives a fuck I could possibly be different to what you expected, huh?”

From the beginning, I’d branded Nate as a player, someone who would break my heart. I’d tried reading every bad motivation imaginable into his actions, when ultimately, there was nothing sinister in them at all. Over time, he’d shown me not all men were the same—that he wasn’t anything like Stuart—and I hadn’t given him credit.

“Goddamn it!” Nate slammed another cupboard shut.

“What are you looking for?” I cried.

“Advil, Tylenol, whatever you have.” Giving up, he slouched back against the bench top, wrapping a hand around his mug.

I breezed past him and retrieved the painkillers from the only place he hadn’t looked. Needing to reach the glass from the shelf behind his head, I approached. He annoyed me by not moving so I had to stand on tiptoe and reach over his shoulder, which meant having to lean into him at an unbearable close proximity. Only when I smelt his freshly washed hair did I consider how terrible I must have looked. I hadn’t taken any make-up off or brushed my hair, and my clothes were crumpled from sleep.

Nate’s hand came to my hip, steadying me as I lowered back onto my feet. “I missed you last night,” he whispered into my ear. “I don’t like sleeping alone.”

The forcefield of energy sparked and ignited between us, trapping me so I couldn’t move away. All I wanted was to throw my arms around his neck and have him hold me. I forced myself not to look at him, knowing it would be my downfall. I managed to step away, going to the fridge for some water.

“Here,” I said, handing him the glass and packet.

“I don’t need them,” he said quietly. “They’re for you.”

Of course his concern was for me. I blew out a breath and knocked two back, not stopping until I’d emptied the glass. We stood, either side of the kitchen, both leaning against the bench tops, both stubborn and incensed.

“Go and shower.” Nate nodded to the bedroom behind me. “I’ll have fresh coffee and breakfast ready when you’re done.”

How was it possible one person could break me with their betrayal, then again with their kindness? When I didn’t budge, Nate took two steps forward until he was in front of me. He spun me around and began lowering the zip on my jumpsuit. “This wasn’t quite how I envisioned taking this incredibly sexy outfit off you,” he murmured. His lips were warm and cautious as they worked over my shoulder. And very welcome.

My hand clutched my top, preventing it from falling down, while the other sought balance from the bench top. My neck rolled to the side, yielding to Nate far too easily than I wanted to. But I couldn’t stop myself. His touch was magical, a hypnotic caress that always consumed me, made me willing and compliant.

“Let’s get out of here,” Nate said gently. “We have lots to discuss.”

“Where are we going?” I sucked in a breath and nuzzled the side of his head with mine.

“Somewhere we can both think straight, with no distractions.” His hands ran over my waist and hips. “Well,
fewer
distractions.”

I saw the curl of his lips as I hurried off to shower.

I dressed to get his attention, slipping on a white tank and denim miniskirt that had been in hibernation at the back of my closet for far too long. All without underwear. I’d even taken my time slathering body lotion on in the bedroom rather than bathroom, putting my self-conscious thoughts aside, all in a vague attempt to get a reaction. That’s why I was annoyed when I got nothing. Not even a lusty smirk of recognition or a simmering gaze.

Within the hour, we were heading to the beach house. The bright start to the day had given way to darker skies as we neared the coast. The air was still frosty between us, neither of us talking much, but it was gradually thawing. My mobile rang about twenty minutes into the journey.

“What the heck were you thinking last night?” Mai scolded me. “Nate was so pissed off with you when you left.”

“He still is,” I mumbled, turning away for privacy.

“You’re with him now?” I could feel her excitement buzzing down the line.

“He’s kidnapped me.” I glanced at Nate and saw his mouth twitch. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but knew they were laughing. “If I’m not in Monday, tell the police I’m with him.”

“A little overdramatic, don’t you think?”

“Says the queen of drama.” It felt good to laugh. A brief respite to the tension, but I knew it couldn’t last. During my shower, I’d mulled over the events of the past twelve or so hours. He wasn’t that much of a bastard to take me to the beach house then dump me.

If we were to move on, conversations neither of us might want to hear needed to happen.

WHEN we reached the beach house, Nate took my bag upstairs whilst I went to the lounge, mentally preparing the conversation. I was edgy and frightened, but ready to let him in. I was sitting on the sofa when he finally joined me. He carried a steaming mug of something in each hand and gave one to me. “I made you tea.”

It was strange he’d opted for tea over coffee, considering I’d never drunk it in front of him before. The gesture was profoundly touching. My father always made me tea when he sensed I needed to get something off my chest. “Isn’t that what I should be doing? Being English and all that?”

Nate cracked a strained smile and strolled to the windows barefoot. I followed his gaze to the trees swaying in the wind outside, and the rough swell of the ocean, dark blue with white foamy wave breaks. I cradled my tea, grateful for its warmth.

After a few sips whilst he worried something over in his mind, Nate glanced over his shoulder. “Mai explained what happened with Stuart.”

“What?”
I shot him an indignant look.

“No one deserves to be cheated on, made to feel worthless. No man is good enough for you.”