wasn’t claustrophobic, not really, but she’d always been terrified of getting stuck in a lift between floors. Well, that was the excuse she made to herself for her increased heart rate.
Because she’d never been scared of Ben Carter—and wasn’t now.
“Stand back, buddy,” she said in her best courtroom voice. Even to her own ears, she sounded totally ridiculous.
He must have thought so too, because he laughed, that easy, joyful laugh she’d come to rely on all those years ago when life seemed so bleak.
It took her back, that laugh, way back, and triggered a thousand alarm bells.
“Did you follow me?” Of course you followed me.
The grin was gone from his face, replaced with a dark scowl. “Some of my...ah...associates liked the look of you. They were making noises about hanging around outside the court and waiting for you. I talked them out of it—but I hung around myself, just to make sure.”
“Oh,” was all she could think of to say. Warmth blossomed in her heart and spread outwards. He’d protected her as a kid and a teenager, and was protecting her still. “Thanks.”
“Pleasure’s all mine.” The words came out of his mouth automatically, she thought, but his eyes were telling a completely different story.
He put down the department store bag he was carrying, and caught her hand in his.
At his touch, the feelings came back, flooding back—the desperate longing, the wanting, the craving for him. Only now it was twice as bad as it had been all those years ago.
He drew her hand to his chest and leaned his other hand on the lift wall beside her, so that his face was close to hers, the scowl gone. “I tried to contact you, lots of times, after that night we had together.” There was a rough edge to his voice. “I couldn’t find you. I concluded you didn’t feel the same way I did about a replay. Eventually I gave up.”
Of course you couldn’t find me. I made sure of that. His heart beat under her hand, strong and steady, and the temptation to simply sink into that chest—into his warmth, to feel his arms around her—was so powerful it hurt.
She shrugged, dragging her eyes from his so he wouldn’t see the truth, and turned her head slightly to focus on a spot over his shoulder. “I was around.”
“Around, maybe, but not for me. Kelly...” He let go of her hand and reached for her chin, gently easing her head around to face him again and seeking out her eyes. “Do you Julie Mac
remember that night?”
She drew her eyebrows together and cocked her head slightly in what she hoped was a good impression of someone struggling to grasp a memory. “Vaguely, I guess.”
She saw the flash of hurt in his eyes, deep and searing, and hated herself for doing this, but there was no other option. He’d live with the hurt, she’d live with the loss, but there was another person in her life now whose feelings were far more important than either hers or Ben’s.
“So you have no recollection of how it was for us?”
“No.” Yes! Every detail of that night is as clear to me as if it happened seven days ago, not nearly seven years.
“I’m sorry you don’t remember.” Ben was watching her eyes, and the hand holding her chin moved fractionally to caress her cheek. “Because I do—very clearly.”
She thought her knees might give way. “Well, I’m sorry too, but I obviously don’t have your powers of recall.” I remember every touch of your hands on my body, every slide of your skin against mine. She held his gaze, hoping to convey indifference.
“Shall I remind you?” He dipped his head as if to kiss her.
“No!” She jerked her head to the side. The memory of your mouth on mine is already imprinted on my brain forever.
If she let him kiss her—if she kissed him—all the protective barriers she’d built around her would shatter and crumble in a second.
“So why are you panting then?”
“What?” She swung her head back to face him, and
Because she’d never been scared of Ben Carter—and wasn’t now.
“Stand back, buddy,” she said in her best courtroom voice. Even to her own ears, she sounded totally ridiculous.
He must have thought so too, because he laughed, that easy, joyful laugh she’d come to rely on all those years ago when life seemed so bleak.
It took her back, that laugh, way back, and triggered a thousand alarm bells.
“Did you follow me?” Of course you followed me.
The grin was gone from his face, replaced with a dark scowl. “Some of my...ah...associates liked the look of you. They were making noises about hanging around outside the court and waiting for you. I talked them out of it—but I hung around myself, just to make sure.”
“Oh,” was all she could think of to say. Warmth blossomed in her heart and spread outwards. He’d protected her as a kid and a teenager, and was protecting her still. “Thanks.”
“Pleasure’s all mine.” The words came out of his mouth automatically, she thought, but his eyes were telling a completely different story.
He put down the department store bag he was carrying, and caught her hand in his.
At his touch, the feelings came back, flooding back—the desperate longing, the wanting, the craving for him. Only now it was twice as bad as it had been all those years ago.
He drew her hand to his chest and leaned his other hand on the lift wall beside her, so that his face was close to hers, the scowl gone. “I tried to contact you, lots of times, after that night we had together.” There was a rough edge to his voice. “I couldn’t find you. I concluded you didn’t feel the same way I did about a replay. Eventually I gave up.”
Of course you couldn’t find me. I made sure of that. His heart beat under her hand, strong and steady, and the temptation to simply sink into that chest—into his warmth, to feel his arms around her—was so powerful it hurt.
She shrugged, dragging her eyes from his so he wouldn’t see the truth, and turned her head slightly to focus on a spot over his shoulder. “I was around.”
“Around, maybe, but not for me. Kelly...” He let go of her hand and reached for her chin, gently easing her head around to face him again and seeking out her eyes. “Do you Julie Mac
remember that night?”
She drew her eyebrows together and cocked her head slightly in what she hoped was a good impression of someone struggling to grasp a memory. “Vaguely, I guess.”
She saw the flash of hurt in his eyes, deep and searing, and hated herself for doing this, but there was no other option. He’d live with the hurt, she’d live with the loss, but there was another person in her life now whose feelings were far more important than either hers or Ben’s.
“So you have no recollection of how it was for us?”
“No.” Yes! Every detail of that night is as clear to me as if it happened seven days ago, not nearly seven years.
“I’m sorry you don’t remember.” Ben was watching her eyes, and the hand holding her chin moved fractionally to caress her cheek. “Because I do—very clearly.”
She thought her knees might give way. “Well, I’m sorry too, but I obviously don’t have your powers of recall.” I remember every touch of your hands on my body, every slide of your skin against mine. She held his gaze, hoping to convey indifference.
“Shall I remind you?” He dipped his head as if to kiss her.
“No!” She jerked her head to the side. The memory of your mouth on mine is already imprinted on my brain forever.
If she let him kiss her—if she kissed him—all the protective barriers she’d built around her would shatter and crumble in a second.
“So why are you panting then?”
“What?” She swung her head back to face him, and
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