Living in Secret: Living In..., Book 3 Page 17

  And you don’t want her being naked like that with anyone else but you.

  He let out a breath, his fingers trailing over the curve of her ass as he accepted the truth of it. No, he didn’t and that was a problem when in a couple of days all of this would be over and they would both be free to go on with their lives.

  You also don’t want it to be over.

  Connor’s hand stilled in the small of her back, the warmth of her skin against his palm. Something heavy shifted inside his chest. Knowledge. Certainty.

  No, he didn’t want it to be over. Last night they’d crossed a line in more ways than one. In sharing their secrets and then their bodies, they’d been themselves.

  And she’d accepted him. The man he’d been hiding, the man he was behind the shell that was Connor Blake, lawyer. More than accepted him, she’d wanted him.

  And he wanted her, the woman he’d uncovered. Not just to have in his bed, but to get to know. Her thoughts and desires, her dreams.

  But he only had one more night left and that wasn’t enough for someone as complicated and fascinating as Victoria. He needed longer. Another week. A month. Maybe even a year.

  There will never be enough time.

  His breath caught and abruptly he turned and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, pausing a moment.

  No, he didn’t know how long it would take to get enough of Victoria. But one thing he was sure of, one more night wasn’t going to cut it. He wanted more. He wanted longer.

  Pushing himself off the bed, he headed toward the shower, still thinking.

  The time for running away from what was happening between them was over. He needed to talk to her. Lay out what he wanted. He had no guarantees she would feel the same way, of course, especially considering she was planning on leaving the country. But maybe he could get her to put it off. Because surely this was worth it?

  Once he was showered and dressed for work, he headed down to the kitchen and pulled some bacon and eggs from the fridge. Protein for breakfast was exactly what they both needed for this kind of discussion.

  He had coffee brewing on the stove and was halfway through cooking the eggs and bacon when Victoria appeared in the doorway. Unfortunately she was not wearing his shirt the way she had the night before, but the clothes she’d arrived in last night, the shirt and blouse looking a little worse for wear, her hair loose down her back. Not Victoria-the-lawyer, and yet not dirty-girl-Victoria either. More like a pretty damn sexy combination of the two.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” he said, gesturing to the breakfast bar. “I’ll get you some coffee while the eggs cook.”

  “It’s okay.” Her voice was cool. “I’ll pick up a coffee on the way to work. I have to go home to get changed anyway.” There was a slightly guarded look in her eyes, one he didn’t like, that made his heart tighten behind his ribs.

  “It’s one coffee, Victoria. Stay. I have something I want to discuss.”

  She leaned against the doorframe and he experienced a sudden, weird sense of dislocation. Last night she’d leaned against that doorframe in nothing but one of his business shirts. And before that, years before, as his wife, he’d seen her do the same thing, all cool and reserved, stopping to say goodbye as she went off to work. Or saying hello as she arrived home.

  Now this woman was there, in the doorway. A mixture of the wild, passionate woman who’d screamed into the mattress the night before and the contained and brilliant lawyer he’d married. The woman who’d gotten all his secrets out of him. Who hadn’t been afraid.

  “Discuss what?” she said. “I don’t want to be late for work.”

  The sharp, unexpected edges of disappointment cut into him, like the teeth of a newly sharpened saw. Because he could see already the guarded look in her eyes wasn’t changing. That, if possible, it was becoming even more guarded, even more wary. She was protecting herself. Withdrawing herself from him.

  Well, too bad. He’d stayed silent, kept quiet for too many years and now the time for silence was over. They had to be honest with each other if there was to be any hope for them.

  And he wanted there to be hope. Because for perhaps for the first time in years, he had something he wanted more than justice.

  He flicked the gas element off and dropped the spatula onto the counter with a clatter. Turned to face her. “Screw work. This is more important.”

  She stared at him for a long time, a complicated expression in her dark eyes. One he couldn’t read for the life of him. “What is more important?”

  “This. Us. What happened last night.”

  “What do you mean what happened last night?”

  “You know what I’m talking about. We shared something, Victoria. Not just our secrets and not just our dirty little fantasies. We shared ourselves with each other in a way we haven’t before. Don’t you think that’s important?”

  Her gaze flickered and she shifted against the doorframe. “I’m not quite sure what you’re getting at.”

  She didn’t want to understand, he realized. She didn’t want to know. Fine. He’d spell it out for her so they were both utterly clear.

  “I don’t want this to be over at the end of the week,” he said flatly. “We have something between us we’ve never had before and I want more of it. I want to explore it, see where it takes us.”

  She blinked then looked away from him, down at the floor, her hands clasped in front of her. “I see.”

  “Good. Does that mean you agree?”

  Her attention remained on the floor and she was silent a long moment. Then abruptly she lifted her head. “So you really think after a few days of sex I’d be willing to give up my position in London, my travel plans, my entire future, to stay here and ‘explore’ more sex with you?” There was a stain of red along her cheekbones and a spark gleamed in her dark eyes. Anger.

  “I’m not asking you to give up anything. But maybe you might want to postpone it.”

  “Are you completely out of your mind?”

  “No, I’m not. In fact, for the first time in five fucking years I’m actually thinking clearly for once.”

  “Well, good for you. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse. You wanted a week and that’s what I’m giving you. No more. So if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get—”

  “Don’t be a fucking coward, Victoria,” he interrupted, anger and disappointment beginning to bite. And this time he didn’t fight them. He let them loose. “You always run away when things get tough and I get it, you’re protecting yourself. But you don’t need to do that anymore, not with me. Haven’t we gotten beyond that?”

  She didn’t reply immediately, staring at him. Then she pushed herself away from the doorframe, standing in the doorway like she was about to take flight. “What do you seriously expect to have happen from this ‘exploration’, Connor?” she demanded. “You want to go back to our marriage? Is that it?”

  “If you mean what we had before, then Christ, no. I don’t.” He took a step toward her. “I want what we had this week. I want the good parts of our marriage and the passion as well.” Another step, holding her gaze. “I want what I saw in your eyes when you looked at me in the mirror last night.” The same look Lily had given Kahu. Finally, finally. As if he’d been the only person in her entire universe…

  The hectic color had faded from her face, leaving her pale, her eyes even darker. “I don’t know what you saw in the mirror last night. We had sex. That’s all. And a couple of extra truths thrown in for good measure is not a basis to go building anything on, still less rebuilding a marriage already broken before we even tied the knot.”

  Of course she would deny it. That’s what she did when she felt threatened, he knew that now. But still the deep surge of anger that went through him caught him off guard. “Bullshit, Victoria. It wasn’t just about the sex and you know it.”

 
“But that’s just it. I don’t know it.” Her chin lifted. “So why don’t you tell me what you think it’s all about?”

  He closed the distance between them, for once not thinking, only acting. And when he reached her, he took her proud, determined chin in his hand, tilting her head back so she could look into his eyes. So she could see. “It’s about us, Victoria. Being real with each other. Being ourselves for the first time in five fucking years the way you said last night. No secrets. No masks. And no fear.” He searched her face, looking deep into her guarded brown eyes. “Don’t you want that? Because I do. I want it so goddamned much it hurts.” He knew as soon as he said it that it was true. He wanted it. He wanted her. Right down to his bones, to his soul.

  More than he wanted anything else. More than atonement or absolution or forgiveness for his sins. More than he wanted to protect himself and keep himself safe.

  She was more important than any of that and what they’d discovered together, what they could be together, was worth paying any price for.

  And it was strange how, understanding that, the anger just flowed out of him, leaching away. A calm settling down inside him he hadn’t felt for years, if ever. He knew what he wanted now. What he had to fight for.

  Last night he’d told her everything and she hadn’t run. More than that. She’d believed he wasn’t what he’d always thought, what he’d always feared. A violent, angry man, just like his father. She’d called what he’d done survival. A war. And you didn’t have a choice with a war. You only had to fight.

  Well, now it was time for another fight. Another battle. But this time it wouldn’t be survival he’d be fighting for, it would be her. Down to the last of his strength.

  “Victoria,” he said softly, releasing her chin, his hand dropping to where hers were, clasped together over her stomach. “Let’s try this. Let’s see where it takes us. Let’s try again.”

  She was breathing fast, her jaw tight, the expression in her eyes almost anguished. “Connor…I…”

  He took one of her hands in his, twining his fingers through hers and holding on. “Please.”

  Her mouth closed and for a second she was still. Then slowly and with great care she extracted her fingers from his grip. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  The loss of her warmth was a shadow over the sun, an ache in his heart. “Why not?”

  Unexpectedly her guarded look crumbled, and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Because I’m not what you want. I’m not who you want. I never have been. And I never will be.”

  He wanted to touch her then, wanted to take her in his arms. Show her she was exactly what he wanted. Only sex wasn’t going to solve this one. It had been the catalyst that had brought them to this point. But it wouldn’t take them beyond it. For that, there needed to be more.

  There has to be love.

  The emotion he’d always dreaded, clouded by violence and the sound of his father’s shouts, his mother’s screams, the smack of a fist into unprotected flesh. He’d never wanted love, never sought it. But he knew in that moment that’s what he’d seen in her eyes last night. That’s what he’d felt in his heart.

  “You are what I want,” he said, the rough edge of emotion creeping into his voice and he let it. “You’re exactly what I want.”

  She shook her head as if denying it. “No. You want someone else, Connor. A different woman. And I’m not her.”

  It hurt. It goddamn hurt. Because he knew what he saw in her, he knew what she was. “You are her, Victoria. That’s who you are inside. Why can’t you see that?”

  Her expression closed up. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to be her. I don’t want to have anything to do with her.” Acid edged her words, a bitter self-loathing he’d never heard before. “She walked away from her baby. She walked away from her own child. And all because she was trying to live up to some impossible set of expectations. Trying to make her parents’ sacrifice worth it. Who would ever want anything to do with a woman like that?”

  There was pain in her face, despite her shuttered look. And he understood, finally, that her scars ran just as deep as his. “I would,” he said, quiet and sure.

  Her throat moved, the pain in her eyes spreading outwards. “Why? What the hell do you see in her?”

  “Because she’s in pain. Because she wants forgiveness. Because she cares. Just the same as I do.”

  “She doesn’t want any of those things.”

  “I think she wants love.”

  She went even paler, turning away from him. “No. You’re wrong. She wants love the least of all.”

  “Victoria—”

  “Goodbye, Connor,” she said, turning her back on him. “Thanks for everything.”

  Then she began to walk away.

  “That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” he said, not raising his voice, making it a challenge. “You run away when it gets difficult. When it gets painful. When you’re scared. That’s what you’ve done for the past five years and you’re still doing it now.”

  She paused, but didn’t turn. “I have to protect myself somehow.”

  “From what? From me?”

  She only shook her head, not answering him, beginning to walk again.

  “I’m not running, Victoria.” He said it quietly but loud enough she heard, he knew she did. “I’m going to fight for this. I’m going to fight for you.”

  She reached the front door and pulled it open.

  “You’ll never get your divorce,” Connor said. “I’m never going to let you go.”

  And she shut it behind her.

  That was fine. She could run away again, but it would be for the last time. Because he was done with letting her walk away from him.

  Last night she’d showed him the strength of her conviction. It was time she learned about his.

  “What’s up?”

  Victoria pushed the remains of her chicken salad around on her plate. Not that it could rightly be called remains when she hadn’t eaten any of it. “Nothing,” she said, trying to keep her tone even. “I’m fine.”

  Across the table from her, Eleanor gave a disbelieving snort. “Bullshit, Vic. What’s going on?”

  They were having lunch at the Auckland Club and it had not escaped Victoria’s notice that Raphael was behind the bar. She’d flushed as they’d entered and she’d spotted him, but he only nodded his head at her, his smile holding nothing but friendliness. That had eased the tension, but the sight of him also reminded her of what had happened only last week.

  It reminded her of Connor.

  Let’s try again. Please.

  “Vic. Come on.”

  She dropped her fork, her chest feeling empty and hollow. She didn’t want to talk about it.

  You run away when it gets difficult…

  There was worry in Eleanor’s gray eyes, a crease between her fair brows. There was no point in telling her friend about Connor. She would be leaving in a couple of weeks anyway and then it would be a moot point.

  But the hollow feeling in her chest wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t get the image of Connor standing in the kitchen out of her head. Of the look in his eyes. No anger, only a tenderness that made her feel like she was suffocating. An expression that wasn’t for her and that she didn’t deserve anyway.

  He didn’t understand. She’d made the decision to give Jessica up. She hadn’t fought. She’d done what she was told. She’d obeyed her parents to make them happy. Because that’s what she always did, struggling to live up to their vaunted ideas about what they wanted for her. Because she loved them.

  Jesus, it all came back to that, didn’t it? Love. That demanded too many sacrifices. Too many parts of your soul. A soul already broken into pieces the day she’d handed over her daughter to the nurse in the hospital.

  She didn’t have much of her soul left. She couldn’t hand
the rest over to Connor just like that.

  He’d accused her of walking away, of not fighting, and he was right. She didn’t want to fight. It was easier and less painful to protect yourself, and it was much safer in the long run. She’d been doing that for too many years to stop suddenly now.

  “Vic,” Eleanor said again. “You look miserable. And I’m worried about you.”

  Victoria looked at her salad, her appetite completely gone. “I’ve been seeing Connor,” she heard herself say, the words abrupt and flat. “We’ve been… Well, anyway. It’s over now.”

  There was a shocked silence.

  “You kept that quiet,” Eleanor murmured.

  She looked up, met her friend’s steady gaze. “It was a goodbye fling type of arrangement.”

  “So why are you unhappy?”

  “I’m not—” She stopped abruptly as Eleanor raised a skeptical brow. “All right, so I’m…sad. But it’s over and done with now, like I said. And I’m leaving for London soon.”

  “Uh huh.” Eleanor sat back in her chair, nursing a glass of rosé. There was a searching expression on her face that made Victoria uncomfortable. “So you’re sad. Why?”

  She forced herself to laugh, a brittle sound. “Because the sex was good.”

  “You can have good sex with someone else, Vic. That’s usually not a reason to be sad.”

  “I don’t want sex with someone else,” she said before she could stop herself.

  “Ah. Well, that’s different then.”

  Victoria pushed her salad plate away with a sharp movement, angry with herself and with the horrible feeling in her chest that wouldn’t go away.

  You’re afraid.

  Yes, she was afraid. She’d made a great many sacrifices in her life and she didn’t want to have to make any more. And there would be sacrifices if she wanted to be with Connor because there always were.

  Such as? Giving up a passionless, loveless life?

  “It’s not different,” she said forcefully. “I can be celibate.” After all, she’d been celibate for at least two years before she and Connor had gotten it on. She could do it again. “Anyway, it’s not about the sex.”