‘Goodnight, Tom.’ With a determined effort and more willpower than she’d known she possessed, she pulled away from him for the second time that evening and walked down the path without looking back.
* * *
Tom rode the motorbike home at a pace that would have horrified his mother, but even the sudden burst of death-defying speed and power didn’t relieve the throbbing tension that had built within him during the evening.
He locked the bike away and let himself into his house, contemplating the undeniable fact that, of all the women he’d been with in his life, Sally Jenner was the only one who had ever held his attention.
But she’d wanted a level of commitment that had unsettled him.
She’d been young and mixed up. Shifted from foster-home to foster-home, searching for security and acceptance. And unconditional love. Someone who wouldn’t push her away when the going got tough.
And hadn’t he done just that?
He cursed softly, reminding himself that he’d been in an impossible situation.
Sally had been so lonely and unloved that she’d treated him like a lifeline, and he’d known that the only way she was ever going to find confidence, find her place in the world, would be if they parted company. He’d been mature enough to realize how desperate she’d been for some sort of stability in her life, and he’d been afraid that her love for him had been fuelled by a desperation for security.
And looking at her this evening, looking at that poise and confidence, he could almost convince himself that he’d done the right thing.
But then he’d felt the pulsing, throbbing tension between them, and the question came back to taunt him as it had a million times over the last seven years.
What if he hadn’t ended it?
Wondering why life was so damn complicated, Tom tugged open the fridge to retrieve another beer when he remembered that he’d already had one and it was still possible that he’d be called back to the hospital.
So instead he made himself a coffee and took it into his huge living room.
He sprawled on one of the leather sofas, staring blindly, thinking about the one woman who was never far from his mind.
When she’d chosen to leave Cumbria he’d been relieved. He had been fully aware that living in the same community as Sally Jenner and not wanting to ravish her twenty-four hours a day had been more than his willpower would have been able to cope with.
Even believing that his decision had been right for both of them, it hadn’t made it any easier to live with.
He’d hurt her. Badly. Which had reduced him from friend and lover to just another person who’d rejected her.
What he hadn’t anticipated was that seven years of separation wouldn’t dull his desire for her in even the smallest degree.
All that the time had done had been to increase his doubt.
He stirred slightly, his gaze sliding around the stylish room that he’d designed himself, noticing how empty it was. Usually he found comfort in returning to the peace and order of his home.
But tonight something had changed.
Tonight his house didn’t feel peaceful, it felt silent.
It didn’t feel private, it felt lonely.
Suddenly he’d found himself wishing that he shared it with a woman, but not just any woman.
Sally.
The connection between them was as powerful as ever, even though she was choosing to deny it.
And who could blame her for that?
Suddenly he wished it were Sally who was pregnant, with his child.
Shocked by his thoughts, he rose to his feet and paced the generous expanse of his living room, wondering just what on earth was happening to him.