Название | Just Eight Months Old... |
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Автор произведения | Tori Carrington |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Cherish |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474024648 |
He suddenly dropped his hand, then straightened. “You don’t have to leave. I’m the one real good at walking out, remember?”
She did remember. All too well. But why did she get the impression that wasn’t what he’d wanted to say? “Walking really isn’t the word for it,” she found herself whispering. “You ran. So fast you would have thought I was threatening a death sentence instead of proposing marriage.”
Chad stuffed his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “I see you haven’t thought about this as much as I have. Not that I blame you. If our positions were reversed, I’d probably have forgotten me the instant the door catch slipped home.”
Inexplicable tears burned the back of her eyes. She would never have expected this from him. She didn’t quite know what to do with this kinder, gentler Chad Hogan.
“Maybe you’re right, Chad. Maybe I haven’t thought about it much.” She slowly drew her shaking fingers through her hair, then dropped her hand to her side. “Anyway, none of that makes any difference anymore, does it? Things have changed, Chad. Everything has changed.”
She grasped the door handle.
“Has it, Hannah? Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like much has changed at all.”
If you only knew.
“Hannah…I made a commitment to you. We lived together for over a year. Certainly I get points for that.”
“Yes, Chad, you do. And when combined with your other scores, you’re way in the hole.” She cleared her throat. “You know, once I believed we had a future together. I even believed you loved me. But it was nothing more than wishful thinking, wasn’t it?”
His gaze was intense. “Wishful thinking? Is that how you see our time together? Wishful thinking?”
Hannah tried to deny the ribbons of memories that unfurled in her mind. Images of him training her up close and personal in the finer points of skip-tracing after she’d quit the force and Elliott had matched them up. The long, intense way he used to watch her before they got involved. Their first, hungry kiss and the countless stolen moments thereafter while they chased bail-jumpers across the country. Their uncomplicated lifestyle, until—
Hannah shivered. Until she got pregnant.
“Look, just because my idea of commitment wasn’t the same as yours doesn’t mean that we can’t work on this case together,” he said.
A spark of disappointment mixed in with the pain already pressing against her chest from the inside. “Don’t try to fit what happened into one little sentence, Chad. Things between us were more complicated than that.”
He took a step toward her, bringing him altogether too close. He gently curled his strong fingers around her arm. She swallowed hard, the clean, warm smell of his flesh filling her senses, her pulse drumming loudly in her ears. His attention lingered on her mouth and she caught herself running her tongue over her lips.
Oh, it had been so very long since she’d kissed him. Felt the dark intensity of his touch. For one long, desperate moment, she wanted to feel it again. To turn the hands of time back to when his mouth was hers to claim. When she’d have willingly given everything that was hers over to this man whom she had loved as deeply as she’d known how.
But she’d learned how fleeting that type of passion was. And realized it wasn’t what she wanted anymore. Wasn’t what she needed. If, indeed, she had ever truly wanted it for herself. She’d always longed for more. And it was for that reason their relationship failed.
Curiosity lay in the depths of Chad’s eyes as he moved closer still. A tiny cry erupted from Hannah’s throat, her traitorous body responding to the physical need vibrating through her at the feel of his body against hers, chest to chest, hips to hips.
She tugged herself free from his grasp. “No,” she whispered.
She quickly turned away, seeking to put not only physical distance between them, but emotional. And the only way to do that was to leave.
She opened the door to find Elliott standing there waiting for her.
Hannah tried to navigate her way around him. “Sorry, El, but I can’t do this.”
“Wait a minute.” Elliott’s thick hands grasped her shoulders, holding her in place. “I didn’t call you two here because I had some illusions about you reconciling. I did it because I need you. It’s your business if you don’t want to tell him—”
Fear eclipsed Hannah’s confusion. In a moment’s span Elliott could upset fifteen months’ worth of rebuilding. She shook her head as inconspicuously as possible.
Elliott sighed. “Anyway, that’s your business.” He dropped his arms but refused to let Hannah pass through the doorway. “If you walk out of here, McGee, Blackstone Bail and Bonds will cease to exist.”
Elliott glanced over his shoulder at the receptionist in the outer office, then stepped inside, closing the door after himself. “Look, just listen to me. There could be a great deal of money in it for you. Enough for you to…see through your plans more solidly.”
She remained silent. He stared down at something he held in his hand. “Here, my secretary took this call for you.” He handed her a small slip of paper. She read it, then slid it into her skirt pocket. Elliott glanced at Chad. “Hogan, why don’t you and I go outside and give Hannah a few minutes to think?”
Chad brushed her as he passed. Heat rippled over her skin. It wasn’t fair that after so much time, after all that had happened between them, she should still be so powerfully attracted to him. Or maybe it was because so much had happened between them that her body took on all the characteristics of a blanket longing to cover him.
The door closed after Blackstone, and Hannah found herself alone. She tugged the message from her pocket and crossed to the phone. The door opened again. Her stomach tightened, but when she turned, it wasn’t Chad staring at her from the doorway, it was Jack Stokes. Her anxiety melted into exasperation.
The bounty hunter was attractive what with his craggy, blond good looks. But at the moment, men in general didn’t appeal to Hannah.
She replaced the telephone receiver.
Stokes quickly closed the door. “Hey there, Hannah, luv, remember me?” The Australian held up his right wrist where her handcuffs were still solidly attached to his wrist.
Hannah closed her eyes. This wasn’t happening….
“I owe you big-time for this one, McGee,” Stokes said in his heavy accent.
“Yes, well, if you had been a little nicer to me, you wouldn’t be sporting that particular bit of jewelry, would you, Jack?”
“You always were a piece of work, Hannah.”
“I’m really not up for this.” She dug in her skirt pocket, then gave him the key to the handcuffs.
He made a show out of unlocking himself. “Tell me, Hannah, what’s our old pal Hogan doing back in town?”
Ah, now she knew the real reason he’d sneaked into the room. And sneak was exactly what he’d done because Hannah doubted time would have dulled Chad’s dislike for the wily, easygoing Aussie.
“That’s something you’ll have to ask him,” she said, pretending a nonchalance she didn’t feel.
Jack stepped a little closer, turning on what Hannah knew was his best charm. Only it had never really worked on her. “Come on, luv, you can be straight with me. What’s Blackstone up to? Tell me and I’ll call it even.”
“Even?”
He tossed her the cuffs.
Hannah tucked them into the holder