Australia: Handsome Heroes: His Secret Love-Child

Maybe he’d sensed that she’d reached a limit where it was no longer possible to support herself, she thought dully in the tiny part of her mind that was still capable of thought.

Or maybe he needed contact, too?

It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter, for there was no space in her tired mind to make any sense of anything. She was grateful that he was here and she leaned back into him but still her focus was on the water, on the wash of cool, on this minute.

‘The sea’s great,’ Cal murmured during a break in the waves, and she thought about answering but another wave washed up against her and she had to concentrate on getting her breath back. She spluttered a bit and thought, Well, that served her right for trying to think of something clever to say. Of anything to say.

‘Where do you go in Idaho when you feel like this?’ he asked some time later, and that was a reasonable question to ask, she decided. There was no danger down that road.

‘I drive,’ she told him. ‘The night Paul died I got in the car and I drove and drove. A friend took CJ home with her for the night and I think I drove five hundred miles before I stopped.’

‘I wish I’d known.’

‘Do you?’ she asked. She tried to shrug but his hold on her waist tightened.

‘Believe it or not, yes, I do,’ he said softly.

‘Your friend Hamish said you were really good at picking up the pieces,’ she murmured. ‘He also said you didn’t know what to do with them after you’ve picked them up.’

‘He’s got me tagged.’ But he didn’t sound angry. He sounded defeated.

‘I guess he’s a friend.’

A wave or two more washed over them and they had to wait for a bit before they could talk again. But she was feeling the tension in him and it wasn’t going away.

‘Does Hamish being my friend give him permission to talk about me?’ he asked at last.

She thought, No, this wasn’t about Hamish. But she answered him all the same.

‘It gives him permission to worry about you. Like with kids, commitment gives rights.’

‘Hell, Gina…’

‘Just leave it, Cal,’ she said wearily. She tried to pull away but another wave, bigger than usual, propelled her harder against him. His arm tightened even further.

‘I don’t think I can,’ he said unsteadily.

‘We need to go back to the hospital.’

‘We have unfinished business.’

‘I can’t think what.’ She tried to sound cross—but it didn’t come off.

‘Gina…’ Things had changed suddenly. The feel of his hands. The feel of his body…

Once she and Cal had been lovers and suddenly the feel of his hands touching her had brought it all flooding back. The way she’d once felt about this man.

The way she still did.

Cal. He was her Cal. She’d fallen desperately in love with him five years ago. She’d spent five years trying to forget how he felt but now all he had to do was be here, touch her, and it was as if those feelings had started yesterday.

No. Not yesterday. Now.

And he could feel it, too. She half turned and he was looking down at her in the moonlight, the expression on his face something akin to amazement.

What was between them wasn’t one-sided. It was a real and tangible bond, and five years hadn’t weakened it one bit.

‘Cal, don’t,’ she whispered, but it was a shaken whisper.

‘How can I not?’

She should have struggled.

Of course she should have struggled. She didn’t want this man to kiss her.

She mustn’t let him kiss her. To rekindle what had once been…

But she was so tired. The part of her brain that was used for logic had simply switched off, stopped with its working out of what she should do, what was wise, what the best path was to the future.

All she knew was that Cal’s closeness, the feel of his hands on her body, the sensation of his mouth lowering onto hers, was transporting her into another space.

Another time?

Five years ago.

She knew this man. She’d fallen in love with Cal Jamieson the first time he’d smiled at her. She’d told herself it was crazy, that love at first sight was ridiculous, that she wasn’t even divorced yet—but it had made no difference at all.

This was her man. Her home. He was the Adam to her Eve, the other half of her whole, her completeness.

Six, seven years ago Paul had walked away from their marriage because he’d sensed that there had been something more. She’d been devastated. She hadn’t understood.

And then she’d met Cal and all had become clear.

Paul had been right. That it had gone so horribly wrong for them both hadn’t been Paul’s fault. He’d gone in search of something he’d sensed had been out there. He’d been injured before he’d found it, but Gina had found it here.

Cal.

She was holding him tight. Tighter.

What was it between them? She didn’t know. Pure, uncomplicated lust? There was certainly that, she thought. Her body was reacting to his as if there was some switch that sent heat surging in a way she hadn’t felt for five long years.

He made her feel…

What?

Who was asking for explanations? Why waste this moment? She surely wasn’t going to.

Her lips opened to his and she hadn’t wanted to be kissed—or she was almost sure she hadn’t wanted to be kissed—but she was numb and past rational thought and she was wet and his body was so close and their clothes were soaked, so soaked that they might as well not have existed, and his hands were wonderful and she could taste him and she was sinking against him and…