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‘Well, that’s flattering. So I’d be going along to take your mind off things. Is that the idea?’ Despite the accusation in her voice, he could see the hurt in her eyes.
He flinched, tried not to let the guilt affect him. He’d made her a promise—that he’d never pretend this was more than it was. All he was doing was keeping that promise. She’d wanted their affair to remain casual as much as he had, so he had nothing to feel guilty about.
‘If you don’t want to come, all you have to do is say so,’ he said, keeping his voice light and non-committal. ‘The invitation wasn’t meant as an insult.’
But he had insulted her—he could see that too—and he didn’t appreciate the renewed stab of guilt one bit.
Her spine straightened and she crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.’ The fixed smile on her face belied the swirl of emotion in her eyes. ‘It was nice of you to offer,’ she said, but he could hear the refusal in her voice and an unreasonable anger swelled in his chest.
She wasn’t going to come. Why the hell did that bother him so much?
‘But I really need to find a job,’ she finished.
‘Fine, suit yourself,’ he said tightly. If she didn’t want to come, he wasn’t about to beg. However much he might want to.
She bent to stack the plates but he grasped her wrist, pulled her upright. ‘Leave them; I’ll get them later.’
Wrapping his arm round her hips, he brought her flush against him. ‘Let’s make up for lost time before I go?’
He clasped her head in his hands, the elemental desire to claim her turning the kiss from chaste to demanding in a heartbeat. But, as he sank his tongue into her mouth, determined to quell the heat pumping into his groin in the only way he knew how, she struggled out of his arms.
‘I’d rather not tonight,’ she said, the words coming out on a shaky breath. ‘I’m tired.’
She was lying. Her pupils had dilated, turning the vivid green of her irises black with desire and her nipples were clearly visible through the thin cotton T-shirt.
He knew exactly how to touch her, how to caress her to make her admit the lie. But he kept his hands rigidly by his sides.
‘Fair enough,’ he said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. He cupped her cheek, forced himself to place a friendly kiss on her forehead. ‘I’d better be going. Good luck with the job hunt.’
Gathering every last ounce of his willpower, he grabbed his jacket and walked out—and didn’t look back.
Maddy watched the pale moonlight gild the bare trees outside her bedroom window and fought back the foolish sting of tears.
The silence in the small cottage seemed suffocating without the comforting rasp of Rye’s breathing beside her, or the feel of his rough possessive hand resting on her hip.
Her heart squeezed in her chest. And a lone tear fell. She brushed it hastily aside.
Stop being ridiculous.
She’d done the right thing by turning down his invitation to California, and turning him away tonight.
There’s nothing keeping me here.
That was what he’d said to his colleague a week ago. She’d tried to make herself forget the painful little jolt when she’d heard him say it. But the truth was, try as she might, she hadn’t been able to.
She couldn’t go to California with him, she had to start creating some distance between them, not storing up the sort of lifelong memories that would make him even harder to forget. And sleeping alone tonight was the first crucial step towards regaining her independence.
But, as she drifted into a fitful sleep, the silence wrapped around her like a shroud.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘ABOUT damn time you turned up, man.’ Zack Boudreaux clapped Rye on the shoulder, then pulled him into a one-armed hug. ‘What kept you so long? We haven’t seen you in over a year.’
‘The slight matter of a bike pile-up and three months in hospital,’ Rye replied dryly as his friend released him.
‘Yeah, right, heard about that,’ Zack said, apparently not the least embarrassed by the gaffe. ‘But that was months ago. I happen to know ‘cos we sent you …’ he paused for a second ‘… something.’
Rye laughed, grateful to see not a trace of pity or discomfort on Zack’s face. ‘You mean Kate sent me something,’ he shot back, mentioning Zack’s wife of four years.
