A Christmas Night to Remember(23)
He slung the parcels on a sofa and reached for her again, refusing to let her go when she tried to pull away. One hand took hold of her face gently, lifting her chin so his midnight-dark eyes stared straight into hers. ‘You being able to walk out of that place today is all the present I’ll ever want. In those first few days I didn’t think you were going to make it. I was terrified and I couldn’t do anything. Something like that has a way of sorting out the priorities of life, believe me. So, you’re my Christmas gift this year.’
‘Zeke—’ She was struggling not to cry. ‘I can’t—’
‘I know, I know.’ He pressed a quick kiss on her mouth. ‘You don’t want to hear it, but tough—it’s the truth. Now, take your presents and go and make yourself even more beautiful, if that’s possible. Because we are going out tonight, Dee. Even if I have to dress you myself.’ He smiled, but Melody knew he wasn’t joking. ‘Which, incidentally, is the option I prefer.’
Knowing she ought to be stronger, but still melting from the beautiful things he’d said, she continued to stand looking at him for a moment more. Maybe going out was the best idea after all. Certainly a night in together would be dangerously cosy with Zeke in this impossibly seductive mood.
As if to confirm her thoughts Zeke kissed her again, as though he couldn’t help himself—a kiss of slow sensuality. She had wedged her arms between them, flattening her palms on his powerful chest in an effort to push away from the hot desire which had immediately gripped her. It had always been the same; he only had to touch her and she was lost. His mouth moved to one shell-like ear, nibbling it before progressing to her throat and finding her pounding pulse. His rapid-fire heartbeat under her palms revealed Zeke’s arousal as blatantly as the silk pyjama bottoms, and for a split second the old thrill and delight that she could inspire such desire in him was there, before a flood of cold reality doused the feeling as effectively as a bucket of icy water.
He didn’t know what she looked like under the robe. He hadn’t seen the scars and puckered skin.
Melody jerked away so violently she took him by surprise. ‘Please don’t,’ she said brokenly. ‘Please, Zeke.’ She gathered up the parcels he’d thrown on the sofa and moved to the door, turning in the doorway to say, ‘What time do I need to be ready?’ as she nerved herself to look at him.
He hadn’t moved, and her breath caught in her throat at the sheer male beauty of his magnificent body. The velvet eyes swept over her and there was no annoyance in his face. His voice was deep and warm and very sensual when he said, ‘I’ve ordered cocktails here in the room for seven before we go.’
She nodded stiffly, holding the tears at bay through sheer willpower as it came to her that she had never loved him so much as she did right at this moment. He was everything she had ever wanted—would ever want—and she was going to let him go. She knew it. She just had to make him believe it before she went insane trying.
CHAPTER SIX
ONCE in her own bedroom, Melody shut the door and plumped down on the bed, the parcels in her lap. She stared down at them through the mist of tears clouding her vision. Rubbing her hand across her eyes, she sniffed. No crying. Not now. Not until this is over. She couldn’t give in. She had to be strong.
The short pep talk helped. She had always known life after the accident, particularly the first few days and weeks, was going to be hard. For all sorts of reasons.
She nodded to the thought. No just because of learning to cope with the world outside the hospital cocoon. She realised this confrontation with Zeke had always been on the cards from the moment she’d made up her mind their relationship was over. If she could have done she would have simply disappeared out of his life; she didn’t want to argue or discuss or rationalise, but she had always accepted she would have to.
The fingers of her right hand moved slowly over the rings on her left, but she refused to brood on the day when she had chosen her engagement and wedding rings. Instead she opened the presents Zeke had given her. The silver shot-silk trousers were exquisite and the cream-and-silver tunic top more so; she didn’t dare contemplate what they must have cost, but the designer label shouted exclusivity.
She wished he hadn’t done this. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she let her shoulders slump—but it didn’t help the tension gripping her nerves. She felt as though any minute now she was going to shatter into a thousand pieces, all the benefit of the afternoon sleep she’d enjoyed ruined.