Mending Fences (12 page)

She managed to smile back. Apparently her internal shattering had gone unnoticed by the others. Thank God. The flash flood had left her shaken to the core, but if no one saw it, she could pretend it never happened.

Rob stirred as Kelli hoisted him higher on her shoulder then took him down the hall to put him to bed. Her feelings settled somewhat with the boy gone, but the level of comfort Victoria knew before this emotional revelation was beyond her reach.

When Jamie excused himself to use the bathroom, Victoria smiled at Curran, then wandered into the kitchen, on pretense of needing a drink of water. All she really needed was a moment to breathe.

* * * *

Curran rose and stretched, then found Victoria’s coat on the rack by the front door, along with his. He pulled on his own then went into the kitchen. Victoria poured the last of the water in her cup into the sink, then set the cup on the counter. He liked watching her. Even in simple motion, her natural grace came through.

He crossed to her, pressed his lips to the top of her shoulder, his touch making her jump slightly. “Come outside with me.”

She turned to him. “Why outside? It’s freezing.”

He held out her coat. “It’s starting to snow, but there’s no wind. Come walk with me.”

She smiled, an expression that hit him in his gut, infusing him with warmth. She took his hand and he led her through the door that exited the kitchen onto the wide redwood deck. Together they descended the stairs to the yard below. The snow fell slowly, in thick clumps rather than individual flakes. It hadn’t snowed recently. The storm would certainly revitalize the ski runs.

Curran wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and they walked through the silent snowfall, across the open yard and through the grove of bare scrub oak and aspen trees. Magical quiet cocooned them, separated them from the rest of the world.

He enjoyed holding Victoria, walking with her. Seeing her with his family contented him. She fit in his world, his most personal world, in a way that women with designer bodies and flashy careers never had. He wondered if he lifted her spirits the way she did his, at least more frequently than he jogged her painful memories.

He felt comfortable with her. A bit too comfortable, or he never would have slipped and allowed Jamie to talk about work-related topics. Well, how long did he think he could date the woman and skirt around that subject? She wasn’t the pushy type, but she had to wonder precisely how he afforded his relatively lazy life.

They stopped when they reached the three-rail pasture fence. Victoria climbed up and sat on the top rail, then raised her face to the sky and stuck out her tongue, catching a snowflake. Just watching her made him smile.

He needed to tell her. He’d known her long enough to figure women didn’t get much more down-to-earth than Victoria. He seriously doubted anything he could offer her would change her into something else. He crossed his arms over the rail beside her. “Inside, when I said we’d talk later?”

“Yes?”

“It’s later.” He looked up at her, brushed the snowflakes from one of the thick curls beside her eyes. “Victoria, you know the company Jamie heads, DCS GlobalTech?”

She nodded. “It’s not exactly a household name, but yeah.”

He took a deep breath and said, “I own it. Well, seventy percent of it, anyway.”

She ran her fingers down the side of his face, the feather touch sending a shiver through him. “Good for you.”

Interesting response. Rather anticlimactic, it left him at a bit of a loss. “I just thought you should know.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, and his heart felt perceptibly lighter.

What an amazing woman. So many things about her appealed to him. He liked the way she moved, with a dancer’s grace and elegance. She wasn’t moody and bitchy over stupid little things the way so many women in his past were. For once in his life, he’d found an intelligent woman. She had her share of complexity, and peeling back the layers intrigued the hell out of him.

Somehow he couldn’t picture growing tired of her company. That surprised him. Usually, within the first few days, he knew how long a thing was going to last.

She gazed down at him, a quizzical expression in her amber eyes. “What is it? What are you thinking?”

He stepped forward, pressed his hands against her knees until she opened her legs and he settled between them, wrapping his arms around her hips. “I’m thinking that I thoroughly enjoy your company, and I’m happy you came tonight, and I need to kiss you.”

Victoria tilted her head down to meet his lips. He kissed her long and deep, sliding his hands up inside her coat, across her back. He nuzzled her neck, reached one hand up to release her coat zipper, explored the vee of delicate skin inside the open neck of her shirt. He trailed the edge of the fabric with his finger, finding the first button. He released the button, drawing a sharp gasp from her. She was pulling back inside herself, the way she had the other night when his touch grew too intimate.

He kissed the creamy skin revealed by the opened button, then leaned back to look at her. “Victoria, you’ve said you’re not afraid of me, yet every time I try to touch you, you ice over. Is that part of how he hurt you? Did he force you?”

Her brow furrowed. “No.”

 “Then what’s holding you back, honey?” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I’m not trying to pressure you, but I need to know what the problem is.”

She shrugged. “Why does there have to be a problem? I just don’t think having sex outside of marriage is a good idea.”

He pondered that for a moment. “Are you telling me that you’re a virgin?”

“No.” Her smoky voice was quiet, her tone unreadable.

“Was Nate your only one?”

She threw a frosty look at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Touchy subject, he’d better tread lightly. “Knowing whether or not your abusive lover was your only lover tells me a great deal.”

“Look, Curran, I’ve had a decent experience or two. I assume you have as well, so let’s leave it at that, okay?”

“But since Nate you have a moratorium on sex?”

“Yes.”

This was not what his body wanted to hear. “Why?”

She sighed deeply. “It creates too many problems.”

“Such as getting hurt in a breakup.”

Victoria looked away from him, out over the snowy ground. “There are worse things.”

Okay, now he was getting somewhere. He lifted her down from the fence and turned to lean back on the rails. She held herself stiffly in his arms, not settling against him as she normally would. He loosened his hold on her, giving her more space before he continued his questions.

“What’s worse than hurt feelings? Honey, if it’s practiced safely—”

She met his gaze, and the pain in hers startled him. “There is no such thing as safe sex, Curran.”

If Nate Fielder had given her some disease, God forbid it be AIDS, prison walls wouldn’t protect him. “I’m starting to think the worst here, Victoria, so please, tell me what happened. Are you ill?”

“No.” She blinked hard and looked away. A tear trickled down her cheek, tearing a hole inside him as he watched her fight for composure. Finally, she crossed her arms against her stomach and returned her newly hardened gaze to his.

“Curran, I’m not having sex again until I’m in a secure relationship, which in my book means married. If you can’t handle that boundary, then, hey, it’s been nice knowing you.”

He’d never heard the final word on a subject laid down with quite that much steel behind it, from a man or a woman. He may not be getting all the answers he wanted, but he had to admire her strength.

Curran raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, enough said. I’ll stop trying to seduce you.”

She managed a half-smile. “Thank you.” She leaned up, brushing her lips across his. “Listen, this sounds awful coming on the tail end of such a conversation, and I hate to say it, but I’d better say goodnight. I promised my cousin I’d drive her to the airport in the morning so she doesn’t have to leave her car there.”

“All right, I’ll see you out.” He wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked back to the house in silence.

He waited as she got her purse and said goodbye to Kelli and Jamie, then he followed her out front. She kissed him goodbye, a sweet kiss that seared him nonetheless, scattering his thoughts. In a tiny little corner of his mind, his promise to stop trying to seduce her flickered. He’d have to be careful how much kissing they did, or that promise would gutter and die.

Curran watched her leave, then kicked at the snow on the walk and went into Kelli’s house to say goodnight. He entered to the sound of laughter. In the great room, Kelli and Jamie sat together on the couch, big silly grins on their faces as they both turned to look at him.

“Having a good time, are we?” Too good a time. He’d better stay for a bit. He tossed his coat on the back of a chair at the breakfast bar, then took a seat on the unoccupied end of the sectional.

“Yeah, actually,” Kelli said. “You, um, came in to say goodnight, I suppose?”

The movement was small, but he caught it. Jamie, his arm resting across the back of the couch, stroked Kelli’s shoulder with his thumb. He turned a hard look on his best friend. “Watch that, mate.”

Kelli groaned. “Oy, wary brother alert.”

Jamie, his grin full of his usual cocky exuberance, raised his palms. “Relax, Curran. I’m calling it a night.” He leaned over and kissed Kelli on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He walked around the couch, pausing to clap Curran on the shoulder. “Go skiing with us in the morning, bud. Late, maybe eleven. You need your beauty sleep.”

Curran shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He lowered his voice then. “Be careful with her, you bastard.”

Jamie looked heavenward. “We’ve had this discussion before. Chill. G’nite.”

When the front door closed behind his friend, Curran leveled his gaze at his sister. “He’s a terrible flirt, Kel.”

She smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

“He doesn’t have a serious bone in his body outside of business.”

“Know that, too.”

“He’ll hurt you.”

Kelli leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, hands clasped before her. “Curran, nothing short of steel-toed boots counts as hurting any more. I like him. I’m thrilled he’s here on vacation. I’m going to spend time with him. If it doesn’t work out, fine, no worries. I know Jamie. He may not have a serious bone, but he doesn’t have a mean one, either. And you know it, so leave him alone.”

He studied the floor, struggling with the protectiveness welling in his chest. He’d never forget the swollen, purple flesh around her eyes, the cast on her arm. The terror etched on Robby’s little face. When he’d arrived to collect them, they were huddled behind the locked door of the bathroom, wondering if he’d get there before Jonas did.

Kelli was right. Jamie would never, ever raise a hand to her. “Robby seems to like him.”

“Why wouldn’t he? Jamie is Uncle Curry’s best friend, so he’s a safe person.”

He sighed. “I’ll try to fight the urge to kill him while he’s here.”

“I’d appreciate that.” She stood and stretched. “I’m going to bed. Hey, Victoria likes to ski, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, we’ve been a few times.”

“Good. Bring her tomorrow. She can keep your mind off me and Jamie.”

Or perhaps Kelli and Jamie would keep his mind off Victoria. She was carting around complicated baggage, including abuse of one form or another, and she wouldn’t talk about it. She barely let him touch her. Curran left, trudging back through the snow to his own home. The way his thoughts were nagging at him, sleep would be long in coming tonight.

* * * *

Victoria stood by the window in her room, watching the snow fall in the middle of the night. She absently petted Sassy, perched on her shoulder.

She drew a deep breath, blew it slowly out again, trying to relax. Her thoughts refused to let her.

Once, maybe twice. That’s all the time she had left with him before he decided to move on. Curran Shaw never stayed with one woman very long, and now that she’d forced herself to tell him her hard limit, it should be over soon. Sex wasn’t everything in a relationship, but for most men it was a pretty big part of the whole. Add to the mix that she refused to explain why she felt the way she did, and it would be
hasta la vista
any time now.

She couldn’t tell him, though. Not about the baby. If the lack of sex didn’t drive him away, knowing she was the sort of woman who could walk away from a child would send him running.

If all else failed, the old article would destroy everything. He was going to find out eventually. Somehow, somewhere, he would find out, or remember, that she had interviewed him, written about him.

She should tell him. He’d probably be irritated, to say the least, given as much as he disliked the press. But surely it would be better to tell him herself than to have him find out on his own.

Her insides twisted into a knot. How could she tell him? She couldn’t read him well enough yet to know how for certain how he’d react. It wasn’t like she made him look bad in the piece, though it did include a paragraph about the rowdy fun he had that weekend, when he grew sick of interviews. Other journalists had made a much bigger deal of his nasty attitude and wild, noisy parties in their coverage of the junket.