With that, he stood, collected his plate, and strode to the kitchen. When the door closed behind him, he leaned on it and sighed. He needed to tell Megan the truth, before things between them got any more complicated than they already were. But shit, he didn’t want to. Every muscle in his body rebelled at the idea. Why did life have to be so complicated?
* * *
“Promise you’ll callus if you so much as catch a whiff of his cologne,” Mark insisted as he hugged her goodbye.
“I promise,” Megan said. “But I’d say he’s gone. I haven’t seen him for days, and he’s not the type to hang around without making a move.”
Charles may be a manipulative bastard, but he wasn’t a lazy one.
“I’ll file the paperwork for the restraining order tomorrow,” Rose said, lining up for a hug.
“Thanks, Mum.” Perhaps it was silly to feel so relieved, considering how ineffective restraining orders could be, but she felt like she was taking a step in the right direction, and that, more than anything, gave her control over her life. Rose kissed her cheek, squeezed her one last time, and climbed into the car.
Joe enveloped her in his arms. “Bye, doll. Stay safe. Remember the moves I showed you.”
Earlier on, he’d drilled both her and Mikayla on self-defense maneuvers they could use against a larger opponent. In another life, Joe had been a lieutenant in the army, and now he taught boxing to at-risk youth. He tousled her hair as he moved away.
“Take care.” Clarissa’s embrace was light and swift.
“Thanks for coming, Riss.” Megan knew how busy she was, establishing the new wing of her bridal empire in Auckland.
“Any time.”
Finally, everyone had loaded into the car except Mikayla, who took her hand and drew her further away. “Are you sure you’re okay if we leave you here?”
Megan swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. While she loved Haven Bay, having her family around had been reassuring. “I’m sure.”
Mikayla held her gaze for an uncomfortably long time, then said, “Okay. I believe you.” She threw her arms around Megan, and rested her chin on her shoulder. “I love you, sis. Tell me everythingthat happens between you and Tione. I need to live vicariously through you. I spend too much time working to meet men.”
Megan laughed. “Would it matter if you did?”
Her sister had been hung up on her boss for as long as she could remember. Megan got it. The guy was handsome, suave, successful, and a bona fide genius, but he was also never going to settle down with a woman, especially not the one responsible for ensuring his life ran smoothly. He needed to keep Mikayla around, and if he burned her, she’d accept one of the other numerous job offers she got every year.
Mikayla rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” The rebuke held no heat. They’d had this conversation a number of times before.
Megan pretended not to hear her. “Love you too. Bye, now.”
Mikayla winked, then hopped into the last empty seat in the car. Megan waved as they drove off, calling farewells out the open window. When they were gone from sight, she rubbed her upper arms, the air feeling chillier than it had, and headed inside.
She reached her room, only to find the door to the hall ajar. She stopped, her hand flying to her chest, and edged back, poised to run, but a familiar voice called, “Megan. That you?”
Her shoulders slumped as the tension left them, and she shoved the door open. “Tee, you scared the bejeesus out of me.”
He lay on her bed, head resting on her pillow, nose in a book, which he set aside as he glanced up. “Arohamai. I wasn’t thinking.” He patted the spot beside him. “Come over here.”
A deep yearning pulled in her belly, and she closed the door and went to him, lying alongside him, close enough to feel the heat from his body but far enough away that they didn’t touch. She leaned on one elbow and tilted her face toward his. “What are you doing in here?”
“I missed you.”
Her heart danced a tango. “You did?”
“Yeah.” He dipped his head until his mouth touched hers, ever so slightly. As he exhaled, their breath mingled, and her eyes fluttered shut. How was it that they weren’t even kissing, yet this was more intimate than she’d ever been with Charles? She shifted, and her lips brushed the silken skin of his. He stiffened. She got the impression he was trying to restrain himself, holding back because he didn’t want to overwhelm her, but she was reclaiming her life and she wasn’t some delicate rose who’d be crushed by the force of his passion.
She kissed him.
It hadn’t escaped her notice that she was the one initiating contact between them nearly every time they were together, but perhaps that was a good thing. For too long, she’d been a passenger in her life, and he’d put the power squarely in her hands. She liked it.
He groaned deep in his throat. His palm flattened against her lower back and he hauled her to him. Her senses were electrified, consumed by the feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him, and the sound of his labored breathing as he kissed her like his very existence depended on it.