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He nodded. ‘She probably wanted us to go out and enjoy the island like we have in the past.’ He let that sit for a moment. ‘You’re free to use whatever she’s packed for me.’
‘It’ll probably only be jeans and shirts.’
You could wear the lingerie, if you like.
The words seared his brain. Out loud, he said, ‘You’re welcome to help yourself.’
He walked to the other side of the room, as though somehow the distance would keep him from remembering her in lingerie. And what had happened after he’d seen her in lingerie. It would do nothing for his need for control to remember that.
He eyed the alcohol his mother had left on the counter of the kitchen—at least she’d done that—and reached for the rum and soda water, adding ice from the freezer. He was sipping it when he faced her again, but her back was towards him and the memories he’d tried to suppress struggled free, even though he couldn’t see her front.
But he didn’t need to.
Because, from where he stood, he could see the strong curve of her shoulders, the sweeping slope of her neck. He’d only have to press a kiss there, have his tongue join, and she would moan. She’d grab his hands as his mouth did its work and pull them around her, over her breasts, encouraging him to touch them...
He gritted his teeth. Reminded himself—again—that he needed to be in control. But his reaction wasn’t a surprise. His attraction to Rosa had always goaded him in this way. When he’d first seen her—her curves, the curls around her face, the golden-brown of her skin—it had kicked him in the gut.
He’d managed to ignore it for a full year, and only because both their mothers had been going through chemotherapy and acting on his attraction had seemed inappropriate. But their year of friendship hadn’t been enough for him. And their chemistry had constantly reminded him of its presence.
Stalking him. Mocking him.
It was why control was so important now. He couldn’t act on his attraction this time. He couldn’t show Rosa how much she’d hurt him when she’d left. And how shaken he was to see her again. He’d only just begun to face the fact that the morning she’d left might have been the last time he’d ever see her...
Control meant that he had a plan. And plans were how he lived his life. How he made sure his law firm remained successful. How he tried to make sure his mother hadn’t created another problem for him to fix.
He hadn’t had a plan in his marriage, and he’d wondered if that had contributed to how—and why—it had ended so abruptly.
Or had his need to plan been the cause of its end?
He took a long drag from his drink and shook the feelings away. He might not know if his plans—his need for control—had contributed to Rosa leaving, but having a plan was the only way he’d survive the night.
Now he just had to come up with one.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_c971648a-30f7-5b34-b430-12951ea46442)
‘DO YOU HAVE any intention of offering me a drink?’ Rosa asked when she turned back and saw Aaron sipping from a glass. It was filled with golden liquid, the kind she was pretty sure would help steady the nerves fluttering in her stomach.
‘What do you want?’ he asked flatly.
She almost winced. ‘Whatever you’re having is fine.’
He nodded and went about making her drink. She walked towards him cautiously and then busied herself with putting the bottles from the counter into the cabinet beneath. It wasn’t necessary, but it was a way to keep her hands busy. Especially since something about his expression made her want to do something remarkably different with her hands.
Or was that because the clothing—the lingerie—had reminded her of all the times she’d wanted to seduce him? Of all the times it had worked?
Her hands shook and she waited for them to steady before she packed the last bottle away.
‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘I know.’
But I was thinking about all the times we made love and I needed a distraction.
‘Do you think your mother left something for us to eat?’
‘Try the fridge.’
She did, though she wasn’t hungry. Again, it was just because she wanted something to do. To distract from the ache in her body. From the ache in her heart.
She found the fridge fully stocked.
‘How nice of her,’ Rosa said wryly. Her patience with Liana had dropped dramatically after the seductive clothing thing. And now, finding the fridge filled with food, she couldn’t deny that Liana had planned this any more.
She’d indulged Liana over the years she’d got to know the woman. Understandably, she thought, considering Liana’s history with her mother. With her, during Violet’s declining health. And...after.
But Rosa had let that influence her view of Liana’s actions. Actions that Rosa had condoned by not speaking out. She wouldn’t let that happen again—once they got out of their current situation.
‘It’s full?’
‘Yeah.’ The hairs on her neck stood when Aaron moved in behind her to look for himself. ‘There’s this dish—’ she took it out, handed it to him—anything to get him away from her ‘—which I assume is something readymade for this evening. And the rest is ingredients to make meals. Eggs, vegetables, that sort of thing.’
‘There was some meat in the freezer.’
Rosa closed the fridge. ‘She’s thought of everything, hasn’t she?’
‘She generally does,’ Aaron said and handed her the drink. She braced herself for the contact, but it didn’t help. A spark flared anyway. She’d never really been able to come to terms with the attraction she felt for him. That she’d felt for him since day one.
Or with your love for him, a voice whispered in her head, reminding her of why she’d had to leave—before either of those things had tempted her into staying.
Staying wouldn’t have done either of them any good.
‘She just doesn’t think about consequences.’
‘Oh, I think she knows.’ She removed the foil that covered the top of the dish and found a rice and chicken meal of some kind. She took out two plates and, without asking him if he wanted any, dished portions for both of them. ‘That there are consequences, I mean.’
‘But she never stops to consider what those consequences might be.’ His voice was steady, but there was frustration there. He’d never been able to hide it completely when he was talking about his mother. ‘You know how many times I’ve had to deal with consequences that weren’t favourable. Like the time she gave her car to a guy she met at a conference she attended.’
Rosa nodded. ‘She thought it would be easier for him to get to his job in the city if he had a car. And that would make sure he didn’t lose his job, and that he’d be able to look after his family.’
‘Instead, the man still lost his job because he couldn’t drive, and he ended up selling the car, which then got him into trouble with the police because she hadn’t transferred the car into his name.’
‘And you had to sort it all out,’ she said softly. The microwave sounded, and she handed Aaron the heated plate before putting in her own. ‘I’m sorry, ba—’
She stopped herself. She’d been about to call him ‘baby’. And it wouldn’t have been like the ‘honey’ he’d called her when she’d first tried to leave. No, that had been said sardonically. This? This would have been said lovingly. Endearingly.
It was because of the routine she’d slipped into. Dishing for him, heating his food. Normal parts of what had been their life before. But that life was gone. She’d walked away from it. It didn’t matter why or how—she had. Which meant accepting that she couldn’t just slip back into routine.
The microwave finished heating her food and she used it as an excuse to turn her back to him. To ignore the emotion that was swirling inside her.
‘You didn’t change,’ he said into the silence that had settled in the room. She took her plate and drink to the couch and tried to figure out how to sit down without the slit revealing her leg.
‘No,’ she replied after a moment, and then gave up and lowered to the seat. She set her food on the coffee table in front of them, covered as much leg as she could and then took a long sip of the drink before she answered him. ‘As I predicted, there were only a couple of shirts in there and jeans. The jeans wouldn’t fit me.’
He settled at the opposite end of the couch. ‘You could have worn one of the shirts.’
She lifted a brow. ‘And that wouldn’t have been...distracting?’
‘What you’re wearing now isn’t?’
His eyes lowered to the leg she’d been trying to cover, and then moved up to her cleavage.
‘I’ll go change,’ she said in a hoarse voice, setting her drink down.
‘No, you don’t have to.’
His gaze lifted to her face, though his expression didn’t do anything to help the flush that was slowly making its way through her body.
‘It’s probably for the best.’
‘Are you afraid I’ll do something neither of us wants?’
‘No.’
Because both of us would want it.
‘I just think it would be better for us not to...cross any boundaries.’
‘Are there boundaries?’ he asked casually, though she wasn’t fooled by it. She could hear the danger beneath the façade. ‘I didn’t realise a married couple had boundaries.’
‘That’s not quite what we are now, though.’
‘No? Did I miss the divorce papers you sent to me while you were in Cape Town?’
Bile churned in her stomach. ‘There are no divorce papers.’ She frowned. ‘You knew where I was?’
He nodded. ‘I needed to make sure you were okay.’
She closed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think—’
‘That I’d want to know that you were alive?’
‘I took my clothes. I thought—’ She broke off as shame filled her. ‘I should have let you know.’
A chill swept over her as she took in his blank expression. ‘You said we aren’t quite married, but you haven’t asked for a divorce.’ He stopped, though she clearly heard the yet he hadn’t said. ‘Which is it, Rosa?’
And, though his expression was still clear of emotion, the danger in his voice was coming out in full now. She swallowed and reached for her drink again.
‘I don’t want to get into this,’ she said after she’d taken another healthy sip. She’d need a refill soon if she went on like this.
‘You can’t get out of it. We’re stuck here.’
‘I know.’ Couldn’t forget it if she tried. ‘I also know that if we start talking about this stuff, being trapped here is going to be a lot harder than it needs to be.’
‘Stuff,’ he repeated softly. Her eyes met his and she saw the anger there. ‘Is that what you call leaving me after five years of being together? After three years of marriage?’
‘I call it life,’ she replied sharply. ‘Life happened, and I had to go.’ She stood. ‘There’s no point in rehashing it now.’
He stood with her, and the body she’d always loved cast a shadow over her. ‘Where are you going to go, Rosa?’ he asked. ‘There’s nowhere to run. This room is open-plan. The only other room is the bathroom, and even then you wouldn’t be able to stay there for ever.’
She took a step back. Lowered to the couch slowly. ‘You’re taking too much joy from this.’
‘This isn’t joy.’ He sat back down, though his body didn’t relax. She nearly rolled her eyes. What did he think he was going to have to do? Tackle her if she tried to get past him?
‘What would you call it then?’
‘Satisfaction. Karma.’
‘Karma?’ she said with a bark of laughter. ‘I didn’t realise you believed in karma.’
‘I didn’t. Until today. Now. When it’s become clear how much you want to run from this—from me—and can’t.’
Now she did roll her eyes. ‘And what are you paying for? What did you do that was so bad that you deserve to be locked in a room with the wife who left you?’
His features tightened. ‘Maybe I don’t believe in karma then.’
‘Sounds like you’re taking the easy way out.’
‘Or like I’m doing whatever the hell suits me.’ His voice was hard, and surprise pressed her to ask what she’d said that had upset him.
But she didn’t. She didn’t deserve to know.
‘Doing whatever the hell suits you does sound like you’re enjoying this.’
‘Maybe I am. Hard to tell since I’ve forced myself not to feel anything since you left.’
And there it was. The honesty, the vulnerability that had always seeped past the coolness he showed the world. The emotion that showed her how deeply he cared, even when he pretended he didn’t.
It had always managed to penetrate whatever wall she’d put up with him. Or whatever wall he’d put up to make her believe he didn’t feel. But he did. Which made her actions so much worse.
She’d done many stupid things in her life. Most of them because she’d wanted to find out who she was after giving so much of herself to her mother.
Like dropping out of college because she didn’t think they were teaching her what she needed to know about design.
Like moving out when she was tired of being responsible for her mother’s mental health.
Like ignoring her mother’s phone calls for almost two months after she moved out, because she thought Violet was trying to manipulate her into coming back home. When really her mother had been calling to tell her about her cancer.
She hadn’t thought anything about her relationship with Aaron had been stupid. At least she hadn’t until she’d found the lump. Until it had reminded her of how stupid she’d been by choosing not to be tested for breast cancer when her mother’s doctors had advised it.
