‘As if I care about embarrassing,’ he shouted back. ‘It so happens, I’ve got a piece to say to you and I’m going to say it. You had your say, two days ago, when you stormed off in a huff. Now I’m having mine.’
‘I don’t care what you have to say…’ She stopped in mid-shout, clasping her hand over her mouth, the sick waves heaving up her abdomen.
He was beside her in a second, gripping her arm. ‘What’s wrong? You look sick.’
‘Get out!’ she shouted, then shot out of the room and dashed down the hall to the bathroom.
Connor stood stock-still and listened to Daisy’s feet fly down the corridor. So that was the way of it? She loved him so much, he made her retch.
He sat on the bed, dropped his head in his hands.
Damn, what was the matter with him? He was handling this all wrong. You didn’t turn up on a woman’s doorstep to tell her you loved her and straight off start yelling. What the hell had happened to all the easy charm he’d used on women so effortlessly in the past?
He heaved out a breath. Stood up, hopelessly restless and confused.
He’d be gentle when she got back. She was obviously poorly. Problem was, he’d never done anything like this before and had no practice whatsoever at it. Was he supposed to get down on one knee? Make an idiot of himself? Probably.
He glanced round the small, cluttered room, noticed the fanciful scene she’d painted on the ceiling and sighed.
This could well be the most important moment of his life and he’d mucked it up beautifully. He knew he had a lot of making up to do, after his knee-jerk reaction two days ago, but he didn’t have an idea in his head how to do it. What did he know of romance? For sure, he’d talked women into bed before, but he’d never once had to bare his soul to one. He’d spent all morning practising what to say. But in the end he’d got so frustrated he’d come storming in here like a hurricane and blown it completely.
He paced up to her vanity, picked up the little vial of perfume, sniffed. The familiar scent filled him with the same bone-deep longing he’d had in the night, after waking up from his nightmare, and in the past two days as he’d waited like a fool for his feelings to level, to change.
He put the vial down carefully. Scowled when he saw something next to it on the edge of the sink. He picked the small plastic bottle up, squinting at the label.
‘Pregnacare Vitamins,’ he said aloud. ‘What the…?’
‘Oh, no.’ He heard the pained whisper, looked round to see Daisy standing by the door, a panicked look on her face. His heart began to pound, but it wasn’t panic clawing up his throat as he would have expected, but hope blossoming. Bright, beautiful, glorious hope.
He held the bottle up. ‘What are these, now?’
She walked towards him, whipped the bottle out of his hand and buried it in the pocket of her bathrobe. ‘Nothing, now go away.’
She turned her back on him, her shoulders rigid with tension, and wrapped her hands around her waist.
He stepped up to her, went to touch her, but pulled his hands away. He wanted to hold her, just hold her for ever. But he knew he didn’t have the right. Not yet. The lump in his throat made it hard for him to speak. ‘You weren’t going to tell me?’
She didn’t look round, but her shoulders softened, and he heard her weary sigh. ‘Please go away, Connor. Pretend you never saw those. Your life can go on as you want it. And so can mine.’
He rested his hands on her shoulders, unable to hold back any longer, and turned her to face him. She had her eyes downcast but he could see a silent tear running down her cheek. It pierced his heart. He tucked a thumb under her chin, forced
her gaze to meet his. ‘Is that really how you want it? Don’t you trust me? Don’t you trust your own feelings?’
She let out a soft sob, bit hard into her lip. ‘What if I told you it’s not even yours?’ she said, desperation edging her voice.
‘I’d know you were lying.’ He brushed the tear away with his thumb. ‘You’re a terrible liar, Daisy, you know.’ He pressed his lips to hers. ‘I love you, Daisy. That’s what I came to tell you. Although I’ve made a mess of it so far. Tell me it’s not too late.’
Daisy had thought her heart couldn’t feel any more pain, that she couldn’t possibly cry any more tears, but hearing him say the words she had dreamed of hearing the last few days and knowing they weren’t true felt like the worst pain yet. More tears welled over her lids.
‘Don’t, Connor. I don’t believe you.’
‘You’re kidding.’ He gave a brittle laugh, then frowned. ‘I’ve never told a living soul I loved them before. And now when I do you don’t believe me? Talk about Murphy’s Law. Why don’t you believe me?’ He sounded annoyed and exasperated, but then his fingers touched her cheek. The tenderness, the understanding in his eyes shocked her. ‘This is because of your mother, isn’t it?’ he said softly. ‘Because she looked for love and didn’t find it, you won’t believe it when it’s standing right here in front of you.’
She searched his face, desperate to believe him, desperate to take what he offered. He was right, her experiences as a child had made her wary of love. But as she looked at him all she could see was his frustration, and his determination.
She drew back, remembering only too well the look on his face two days ago, when she’d told him she loved him. She shook her head.
She couldn’t let herself hope for the impossible. She knew the truth. She’d worked it all out, sensibly and rationally. People didn’t change. They didn’t. Her mother had proved that with every man she’d fallen in love with.