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“Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.”
“No.” Jason’s voice was firm. “It doesn’t.”
Internally, Catherine slowly seethed. Jason was so dismissive of her questions, just as he’d been so dismissive of her desires so many years ago. Back when she’d wanted nothing but him, he’d wanted nothing but the Olympics. She hadn’t mattered. And now he was just brushing her aside again, as though she didn’t matter once more.
“You know what, Jason? If I’m not important enough to tell, maybe I shouldn’t be here. Obviously this is a mistake. You’re barking out orders and fully expecting me to obey, but you won’t tell me why. You won’t share your heart with me. I know this is only new for us—I know this is the first time we’ve had any contact at all in fourteen years, but I thought past history had to count for something, right? Clearly I was wrong.” She turned to glare at him, channelling all her inner anger and frustrations, her fury at years of abuse, at him. “Get out of my car, Jason. I’m leaving. We’re done.”
* * *
Jason swallowed. He didn’t want to let her go. Having Catherine back in his arms again had been incredible. She’d been the other half of him, once. The first woman he’d ever loved. The woman he’d lost his virginity to. Two kids, together, fumbling around in the hay, clumsily exploring each other’s bodies. Making sparks fly. But he wasn’t willing to tell her, either. That memory held too much pain. Losing Louise had nearly killed him. He’d been heartbroken for months. And he really couldn’t bring her up again, hear her name on his lips, let her back into his heart.
He rocked sideways as Catherine shoved him, her face a mixture of fury and pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks. His Catherine. She’d always been stubborn. Too stubborn, really. He hated seeing her like this: hurting. Upset. Angry. But he couldn’t tell her. He just couldn’t. It would break him.
“Get out of my car!” she half snarled, half screamed.
In his peripheral vision, he watched as Milo got up and moved away, flopping back down on the ground to watch from a safe distance. Milo was a good companion, but he didn’t like raised voices and he shied away from conflict. He preferred to come along and lick away the tears after the fact.
Catherine was shaking. She obviously didn’t like conflict either—although she’d used to thrive on it, back when she was young. Maybe her ex really had broken her completely. The Catherine he’d known back then had been a spitfire, never backing down from anything.
“Get out, Jason. I want to leave.”
Jason shook his head. He couldn’t let her leave. If he did, he knew she would never come back. And he wasn’t willing to let her go.
And yet…
He couldn’t tell her about Louise.
The horrific noises of that day echoed in his head. He’d heard them every night for more than a month and every time he’d shut his eyes, her lifeless face would be staring up at him. No matter how long he lived, he’d never forget the sound. The sickening crunch of flesh against metal. The squeal of car tyres, the honking blare of dozens of horns as traffic swerved to avoid the collision, piled up behind them, came to a standstill, just briefly, in all directions. The sirens. The whistling gasp of her last, laboured breath.
“Get out!” Catherine’s angry scream overrode the remembered noises, brought him back to the present. He wasn’t on the streets of New York anymore. He was here, on his farm. Louise had gone, but Catherine was here. And if he let her go, if he let her drive away right now, out of his life, he would have lost both the women he’d ever loved.
Something in his face must have betrayed his emotions, because Catherine picked up his hand. Her voice was soft when she spoke, all traces of her previous anger gone.
“Tell me, Jase,” she begged. “Please. Please help me to understand, because I really don’t get it. It’s obvious that something terrible happened. Share it with me. Please. Because I can’t submit myself to your orders if I don’t know why it’s important I do so. I’ve been running away for so long, and it’s almost guaranteed that I’m going to run away again. So talk to me, Jase. Tell me.”
It was her kindness that was his undoing. He could handle her anger better, her shouted demands. That way, his defences went up, the barricades around his heart shut out all emotions, and he could keep his secrets. He could keep the pain shut away. But that didn’t work when compassion oozed out of her and her soft voice and gentle touch pried away the barrier holding everything in.
He took a deep breath. Squeezed her hand. He could do this. Hehadto do this. He’d already lost Catherine once. He couldn’t lose her again.
“Her name was Louise.” He hated the way his voice cracked when he said her name. He hated the tears that welled up in his eyes when he thought of her, even after all this time. “We were in New York at a horse training conference. We had an argument. A minor disagreement, really. But she stormed out, ran across the road right into the path of the oncoming vehicles. She didn’t even slow down, just ran straight out into the traffic.” He shook his head, trying to clear the images that had haunted him for years and were back with a vengeance now, tormenting him. “It was a mess.”
A single sob escaped him when Catherine brought his hand to her lips, her hot breath caressing his palm. She held the pads of his fingers against her mouth in a lingering kiss that both comforted and aroused him. Her lips were so soft, almost as soft as her hands that touched him so gently.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Gathering strength from her quiet comfort, he squared his shoulders, bit back his emotions, inhaled loudly.
“That’s why you can’t run, Catherine. Don’t run from me. Ever.”Because if you do I won’t be able to stand it.He didn’t voice those last words, though. He kept them firmly in his head. He hated being vulnerable, showing weakness. It went against every grain of his nature. Instead, he lifted his hands to her chin, tilted her face up to his, steeled his voice. “I’m serious, Catherine. You can’t run from me. I need your agreement on that.”
Catherine stared back at him, boldly holding his gaze. “Okay.”
Relief washed through him. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER5
Catherine breathed in deeply, inhaling the aroma of sweaty horse flesh. Although she hadn’t been around horses in years—not since moving to the city—the intoxicating smell was as familiar today as it had been all those years ago. Just being around the horses had relaxed her. Standing beside the big, gentle creature and stroking the brush along the gelding’s shiny coat calmed her from the inside out. It gave her a feeling of peace she hadn’t had in years.
