He chuckled. ‘You’re not kidding, are you?’
‘Not in the least. I told you, I’m very superficial when confronted with your...’
‘Oh.’ He patted his chest and mock-preened. ‘So you’re breathless again?’
She climbed into bed and with a flounce rolled to face the other direction to glare at the beautiful gold-pressed wallpaper. Even with the thermostat blasting frigid air she was hot and bothered.
‘Sleep well, Violet.’
She heard the dry amusement in his voice. Then there was silence. She waited to hear his breathing deepen. But, like her, he wastoostill,tooquiet. She could barely breathe. Not even the rhythm of the train riding the tracks could lull her to sleep. It felt like for ever, and despite her spinning the thermostat she was only growing hotter and more uncomfortable.
Finally, she sighed. ‘Why are you still awake?’
‘Why are you?’ Amused tones came back at her in the darkness.
She rolled onto her back and stared up. Despite the chill of the compartment, she was melting. ‘Well, I’m trying to process my unplanned pregnancy. Plus, the fact the father of my baby is a virtual stranger, and now I’m stuck on a train in very close confines with said stranger and it’s super-awkward. I’m low on money so I can’t just run away anywhere, other than home to my parents, and I don’t want to do that anyway. Plus, people must be wondering—’
‘Awkward?’ he interrupted. ‘Because we’re lying here like mannequins, too scared to relax in case we inadvertently touch each other instead of touching each other the way we really want to?’ He rolled towards her. ‘Remind me why we aren’t kissing right now.’
Heat flared. Kissing? Her whole body quivered at the mere thought. It would be so easy to say yes. But she feared, once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. She’d say yes toeverythinghe wanted, and she had to retainsomecontrol of her life. It had taken so long to get it.
‘Because we still want different things,’ she said.
It sounded weak.Touching...the way we really want to.Which meant he still wanted her, and now her cells were singing the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’. But it was a distraction. A complication.
‘I think we still want some of thesamethings,’ he argued. ‘I think we still want each other. And you know we’re good together.’
CHAPTER SIX
ROMANWANTEDTObite back the words but that breathless way she had of speaking whatever was in her head just made him want to tease her more. It would take nothing to move closer. To touch and forget everything for lush moments. He ached to do it.
But she was pregnant. She was vulnerable. She’d obviously been through hell in the past. Was she even up to the physical demands of pregnancy? Roman didn’t know. So what the hell was he thinking? All he wanted was to bury himself in the pleasure of her body again—selfish jerk that he was.
‘Roman.’ A husky murmur. ‘I—’
‘I’m sorry,’ he interrupted her harshly, inwardly cursing his own weakness. Since when had he been so unwilling to exert his self-control? ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Go to sleep. You need rest. It’ll be okay.’
This wasn’t only abouthim. He mentally berated his cravings—he was too used to pleasing only himself. That was going to have to change. Guilt burned off the desire. It had been a stupid idea to stay on the train with her. But he’d had her in his arms, and he’d wanted to keep her there, and the train had seemed the perfect solution. All that had happened was that he’d put himself into a torture chamber. So close but unable to touch her.
Now she didn’t argue with him, and then it truly was awkward as they both lay still and silent. When had he last shared a bed with anyone to actuallysleep? He hadn’t. Ever. And to think he’d proposed marriage! Didn’t that mean sharing a bed for the rest of their days?
Eventually he heard the gentle deepening of her breathing. But, though he was pleased she was resting,hecouldn’t relax. This wasn’t what he wanted. He’d deliberately stayed single because he never wanted a family. For almost two decades he’d put his focus into finding Eloise, his missing sister. But he’d failed—time and time again. He didn’t want any more emotional responsibility. He didn’t want a wife or children. Didn’t want the burden of keeping them happy or keeping them safe. He’d not been able to do that even in the little way required as a brother.
His thoughts muddled, swirling towards darkness, towards the past. Familiar images haunted him. He knew he was dreaming but couldn’t wake from the horrors and stop it screening in his head. He was unable to move—just as he’d been unable to move all those years ago. There were flashes: still images, loud sounds. Snow in the headlights. Tearing metal. Spinning. The unbearable pressure on his leg. The scream of his mother. Blackness.
Then words he couldn’t understand. Voices he didn’t know. Eloise had been near. He remembered her little woollen jacket and her bright-white blanket because a light had been shone on her. A thin beam from a torch. He screamed at them. To stop. To stay. But he heard only silence. Because not only could he not move, he couldn’t make even the smallest sound emerge. He watched that hand reach towards her. But he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even concentrate. He closed his eyes for a moment. Only a moment. And when he opened his eyes she was—
Roman thrashed as he jerked awake. In a blink he remembered he wasn’t alone in the bed and he froze, hoping he hadn’t just woken Violet or, worse, inadvertently kicked her. Hell, maybe hewasa danger to her. But as the deafening, panicked roar of his pulse in his ears subsided, he realised Violet was still fast asleep, curled in a ball beside him.Closebeside him. Her glossy hair encroached on his pillow and a subtle citrusy scent wafted towards him. It was practically edible. He wanted to bury himself in it. In her.
No.He rubbed his chest, feeling the slick of sweat despite the chilled air, and reminded himself to breathe, slower, slower, slower until the panic fully subsided. Grimly, he gave thanks he hadn’t ended up sleepwalking.
It shocked him that the terror had returned. A decade ago the relentless recurrence of the dream had got so bad he’d ended up using alcohol, sex or both to effectively knock himself out with exhaustion. He’d not done that in years, and neither was an option here. Not with Violet.
Kicking out with that once-maimed leg, being out of control of his own limbs... He didn’t trust himself. He eased out of the bed, quietly moving to the desk so he didn’t wake her. He would work—that had become the replacement for those other two more self-destructive options. He would work and he would research. He knew next to nothing about pregnancy. He needed to find her a specialist—especially given her health history. He needed to find out everything he could.
He tried not to watch her sleeping in the dim light cast by his laptop. He tried to ignore the ache calling him to crawl back into bed and curl around her. But hours later, when she finally stirred, his heart lifted.
‘Why are you up already?’ She pushed her hair out of her eyes. She almost glittered with fresh-woken radiance.