Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set (38 page)

Propping his elbows on the table, he sat in silence.

“What, nothing to say?”

“Why should I bother? Obviously you believe what you’re saying, or you’re trying to convince yourself.” He shrugged. “I happen to know better.”

“You’re certainly full of yourself today.”

He grinned. “It’s part of my charm.”

“I’m serious, Mike.”

“So am I. I know you want to believe you don’t need anyone, but it isn’t true. No man... er, woman, is an island,” he said with a grin.

She narrowed her eyes. “I see. So last time you ran into trouble, you turned to... who?”

“The psychologist in you,” he muttered. “I respect that even if it makes my life more difficult. This isn’t about me.”

She shrugged. “Maybe it should be.”

“Stalemate, sweetheart.” Rising from the chair, he reversed positions and slid it under the table before starting across the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

He turned. “I made this my first stop. I have to find a hotel.”

“You mean you don’t have a reservation?” she asked warily.

“Not yet. This assignment came up at the last minute.”

“I’ll just bet it did.” She forced a grin. “Good luck.” And he’d need it. A sunny weekend at the Hamptons. Just where did the man think he was going to find a hotel with a vacancy? Or a motel? Or even a rat-trap dive?

Carly swallowed a rising tide of anxiety. Maybe he’d get lucky. He’d better... or she’d find herself in deeper trouble than she’d ever imagined.

* * *

Hours later, Carly sat on the deck watching dusk fall. Dark clouds had rolled in over the horizon and thunder rumbled in the distance. She curled up her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs, letting the beauty and anger of nature rise around her. Despite the pending storm, she felt a measure of peace. By this time, Mike had to have found a room or he’d have returned. Though she knew he wouldn’t make himself scarce for however long he planned to stay, at least she still had a measure of time to herself.

A cool breeze slid over her skin as the wind picked up in intensity. She shut her eyes and sighed with contentment. This trip away from home and her problems had been the perfect solution. Surely here she’d find the missing pieces in her life, the reasons she’d nearly married a man she knew she didn’t love. The reasons she’d turned a blind eye to what she now viewed as his obvious betrayal. And the reasons she was so drawn to Mike, the antithesis of everything she’d ever believed she wanted in a man.

A lone drop of rain fell onto her arm. She wouldn’t be able to sit here much longer. The storm would drive her in.

“I should have known stupidity ran in my family.”

Carly opened her eyes. Mike stood before her, frustration evident in both his voice and the aggravation marring his expression.

“Not a hotel room to be found?” she asked in a sugary sweet voice.

“You knew.”

She sighed. “Let’s just say I figured.”

“And I should have, too.” He glanced at the sky. “Want to go in?”

A fine mist had begun to rain down, but Carly wasn’t ready to head inside yet. Not when it meant she’d be enclosed in the small, cozy house with Mike.

She shook her head. “The drive back shouldn’t be too bad. It’s against traffic.”

He raised an eyebrow. “No can do. I told you, I’m here to work.”

“So you plan to stay where? In your car?” She fingered her bangs. They weren’t soaking wet, but they were on their way.

“I’ll make do.” He studied her with those mesmerizing eyes until she felt he could read her mind and decipher her heart’s desire. No, she didn’t want him in her house. No, she didn’t want him sleeping in the next room. How could she, when she’d proven she couldn’t trust herself around him? Couldn’t trust the wanton person she became?

“Make do how?” she asked.

Mike didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure where he was headed. But no way could he stay and torture her any more than she was torturing herself. He hadn’t thought beyond renting a car and driving out to find her. Roger hadn’t mentioned the booked hotel rooms. If Mike had been thinking, he would have realized it himself. But that was the problem. With Carly occupying his mind, other thoughts didn’t exist.

He reached out and grabbed for her hand. “You take care of yourself, okay?” He squeezed once and let go, then made for the steps leading to the beach.

“Mike, wait.”

He turned. “What?”

“Come back. Please. You deserve an explanation.”

He walked toward her. His sneakers squeaked against the wooden planks. “You sure you don’t want to take this inside?”

“Not yet. Just sit, okay?”

He joined her near a lounge chair and waited.

“I’m... afraid,” she admitted softly.

Mike knelt down next to her and reached for her hand. Her skin felt cold and clammy and he realized she wasn’t exaggerating. “You don’t have a monopoly on fear, Carly.”

He looked into her eyes. The emotions churning inside her caused her brown eyes to appear darker than usual. “How can you talk about fear? You drop into danger-filled situations for a photograph. What can possibly frighten you?”

“More than you can imagine.” He’d witnessed children being orphaned like himself. He’d left in mid-assignment and violated every professional code by which he lived. Those realities were hard enough, but the fears he had been referring to had nothing to do with his past or his career. They had everything to do with Carly.

He traced the veins in her slender wrist with his thumb. She dropped her gaze. The wildly erratic beat of her pulse moved him in ways he failed to comprehend. And therein lay the source of his fear.

“I’m afraid you’ll throw me out without us ever having had the chance to explore what’s between us.” Raising her hand, he kissed the throbbing pulse point in her wrist. “And I’m afraid you’ll let me stay and I’ll lose part of myself to you.” Worse, he knew. Even if he stuck around now, he’d take off when the call came, leaving her stranded and alone. Hurt again. No matter how good his personal reasons, he’d create a mess he had no idea how to undo.

Startled eyes met his and he laughed. “Welcome to the club,” she said.

“What frightens you?” he asked.

“The feelings between us.”

He nodded in silent acknowledgment. Until recently he’d believed her fear was grounded in guilt over Peter. Without a ring binding her to another man that theory no longer applied. Which meant something more was at work, something more held her back from Mike.

“And,” she continued, “the fact that no matter how torn you were, you betrayed me. You spent days on end with me, knowing Peter was cheating. Knowing I was sacrificing to make him happy when he wasn’t doing nearly the same thing for me. I trusted him. I trusted you. And I’m not sure what that says about my judgment, all things considered.”

“I tried every which way short of outright betraying my brother to let you know you were making a mistake. When you’re ready, you’ll know that’s true. But since you’re not, I’ll be going.”

She rolled her eyes. “Where? To sleep in your car, or were you planning to pitch a tent?”

“I’ve made do in worse and you know it.”

“But not while I was consumed with guilt. There’s a guest room,” she muttered, just as the skies seemed to open wide and a torrential downpour began.

She ran for the house and Mike followed, ducking under the rolltop awning and through the sliding glass doors. Once inside, she grabbed for two towels in a hall closet and tossed one his way. They dried off in silence, Mike refusing to glance at her wet T-shirt or tousled hair, tossed by the wind.

He also refused to contemplate his motives. He could have gotten into his car and driven the long ride home. Instead he’d checked out the last motel and U-turned it back here. He glanced over.

“I’ll take you up on that room,” he said at last. He purposely didn’t say for how long. Both knew he couldn’t stay.

Carly nodded. So he was staying. It wouldn’t be for long, she knew. She raised her gaze. “I’ll make up the room.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“I hope you realize you won,” she said, unable to control her words. She couldn’t help feeling as if she’d been set up with this trip of his.

“No, Carly. We win,” he said quietly. “We share something special, and no matter how temporary my stay is, we’re good for each other.”

Unexpected tears filled her eyes as he spoke. Swallowing over the lump in her throat, she forced out equal amounts of honesty. “There’s something you should know.”

“I intend to know everything about you.”

He retrieved her hand and she trembled under the heat of his strong touch.

“You’re an experiment for me,” she said.

He looked amused. “How’s that?”

“I need to see if I can resist this pull between us.”

“Why would you want to?” Lines creased his forehead in confusion. She resisted the urge to reassure him by smoothing them with her fingertips.

“Do you think there’s such a thing as too much passion?” she asked instead, ignoring his question. “Feeling things too deeply?” She nibbled on her lower lip and watched him.

His face grew serious as he pondered her question. “Not unless the passion controls you,” he said at last.

She clutched his hand tighter. “Explain that.” She desperately needed to understand.

He was right. They were good for each other in many ways. But it was that sexual pull she couldn’t understand. Her views in life were skewed by what she’d seen growing up. So much that she wondered if she’d ever get past it.

He lifted his free hand to twirl a stray lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. “In a healthy situation, passion may overwhelm you, but you know when and how to hold it in check.” He treated her to a sexy grin. “And when to let go.”

“And in an unhealthy situation?”

“It takes over areas of your life where it doesn’t belong. Passion becomes a destructive force.” He wiggled her fingers until she’d released her death grip on his hand.

She glanced down at the deep grooves her fingernails had etched in his skin. “Sorry,” she murmured, running her hands over his bruised flesh.

“What’s this all about?” he asked.

She shrugged, unable and unwilling to answer.

“Okay. But I’ve got a question of my own.”

“What?” she asked.

“Did you get engaged to Peter because there was no passion or in spite of it?”

Without looking at him, she answered, “I think you know.”

“Carly.” He lifted her chin. His hazel eyes glittered with gold flecks and banked desire. When he spoke, he never took his gaze from hers. “Passion and love are healthy human emotions.” He ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip.

The pull reached down to her inner core, the words
passion
and
love
colliding in her brain.

“Whoever taught you differently?” he asked.

Two tears ran down her cheeks. “When you’re ready to talk about it, I hope you’ll come to me.” Leaning toward her, he kissed the teardrops away.

* * *

Mike walked the stretch of private beach behind the Cape house. Barefoot, the sand felt cool beneath his feet. With the sun barely up over the horizon, the ground hadn’t yet warmed and was still brisk from the evening chill.

He asked himself again what he was doing here. The question had haunted him for the past three days. Three days in which Carly had treated him like a guest she either ran into or didn’t. He’d allowed her the privacy, ignoring the closeness of the small house even as he’d listened to her toss and turn in the next room at night. During the day he used the time to roam the public beaches and capture tourist shots for the newspaper. At night he paced the floors, wondering how much longer the reprieve would last.

He owed his colleagues more than a wave goodbye and a simple “see you later,” and his boss wouldn’t put up with much more of Mike’s silent routine. Beyond calling with a phone number, Mike had deliberately stayed out of touch. Because once he had to return abroad, he would hurt Carly as badly if not worse than his brother had. Not that she’d asked a damn thing from him. She didn’t have to. One glance at those bottomless eyes accomplished the same thing. He’d do anything for her.

Except leave her alone. If he left without testing those powerful feelings, he’d lose something precious. A less selfish man would walk away before she got hurt

“Hi.”

Startled, he turned. “I didn’t hear you.” But he was glad she’d sought him out on her own.

“Not too tough to sneak up on someone on the beach.” She held her sandals over one shoulder. “Bare feet.” She wiggled her toes for emphasis. Her pink nails stood out in sharp contrast to the beige sand.

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” he noted and wondered why. “Have you changed your mind about letting me hang around?”

She shook her head. “Hit the kitchen around seven. I’ll treat you to a real feast.”

She’d managed to shock him. “What did you have in mind?”

“It’s a surprise.” With that, she whirled and ran toward the house.

Mike took off after her. Catching up with her was easy, wrapping his arms around her waist and bringing her down on top of him easier still. To his never-ending surprise, she didn’t resist or try to pull away. She lay in the V of his legs, breathing hard from her run and laughing at the same time. Her face was flushed pink and her carefree smile told him that she’d left her problems behind, at least for now.

Lying beneath her sent a jolt of awareness through his system. Her soft laughter caused her body to move against him and he couldn’t hide his instant reaction. He wanted her.

He knew the exact moment she realized their intimate position and his state of arousal. The joyful laughter ended and her expression clouded. She braced her arms and rolled off to the side.

As difficult as it was, he let her go. There was much he still didn’t understand, but he recognized her fear. For whatever reason, the intense attraction between them caused her to pull back. He sensed the only way to reassure her was to prove they could control the passion. Easier said than done, he thought. He drew deep breaths, trying to concentrate on the waves crashing against the shore instead of Carly’s ragged breathing. Proof she wanted him, too.