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Friends?
Once he’d been everything to her. Her friend, her lover—her world.
His fingers tightened and she felt his touch with every fibre of her being. Her traitorous body yearned for more. Yearned for everything this man was capable of giving.
And then she remembered that he wasn’t capable of giving enough.
He hadn’t been able to make that commitment to her.
And neither had anyone else in her life.
And she’d finally learned to live her life alone, depending on no one.
‘Of course we can be friends.’ Her answer was suitably bland. ‘After all, we’re working together.’
‘That’s colleagues,’ he replied softly, his eyes narrowing slightly. ‘Friendship is something completely different. We had it once.’
‘And I seem to remember that you decided that you no longer valued that friendship.’ She gave a cool smile to indicate that the conversation was over, ignoring the traitorous thump of her heart. ‘Oliver is handing out drinks in the kitchen. If you don’t want to miss out I suggest you move quickly.’ With a determined twist of her wrist she freed herself and walked towards the kitchen with a determined stride, feeling his frustration with a faint flicker of satisfaction.
Not everything goes your way, Tom Hunter.
She walked back into the kitchen and said, ‘Tom’s here,’ in her most casual voice, and then proceeded to top up her glass of wine.
There was a tense silence and Bryony put her hands on her hips and glared at Oliver. ‘You invited Tom?’
‘Why not?’ Oliver’s tone was calm. ‘He’s my brother. I refuse to stop socializing with him just because he used to go out with Sally. It’s been seven years, for crying out loud. It’s history. We all need to move on.’
‘But—’
‘Hush, Bry,’ Sally said quietly, reaching out and squeezing her friend’s shoulder to reassure her. ‘Oliver’s right. It’s fine.’
And it was fine. She was totally in control.
She’d always known that she wouldn’t be able to avoid Tom. And she didn’t want to.
What she wanted was to work and live in a community alongside him and not feel anything.
Bryony rubbed her fingers over her temples, visibly stressed, and Oliver glanced towards the door where Tom was leaning, listening to the exchange in silence, his handsome face devoid of expression.
He’d removed his leathers to reveal a pair of snugly fitting jeans and a black jumper that simply accentuated his masculine looks.
He looked dark and dangerous and just about as sexy as it was possible for a man to be.
‘I can’t understand why you use the motorbike in winter.’ Oliver’s tone was mild. ‘It’s freezing out there and it worries Mum.’
‘I’ve been worrying Mum since I was able to walk,’ Tom drawled, strolling to the fridge and helping himself to a bottle of beer. ‘And I like the fresh air. Good evening, Bryony.’
Ignoring the irony in his tone, Bryony glared at him and Oliver sighed.
‘You’re destroying the atmosphere of my dinner party,’ he said mildly. ‘Sort it out, bro, or we’ll all get indigestion.’
‘I intend to sort it out.’ Tom pushed the fridge door shut, his eyes on Sally. ‘So what do you say, Sally? Can we work together and socialize together without creating an atmosphere?’
Sally tensed, her fingers gripping the stem of her wineglass so tightly that it was in danger of snapping.
He stepped towards her, his gaze only for her. ‘My sister thinks you should hit me. So do it, Sally.’
She felt smothered by his closeness, by his overwhelming masculinity. She took a deep breath and then wished she hadn’t because his tantalizing male smell filled her head and clouded her senses. She had only to lift a hand to touch him but she kept both hands firmly by her sides and stared at the floor.
She decided to let him speak. If she let him speak then he’d leave her alone.
‘I don’t want to hit you.’
‘You should. It would make Bryony feel better. And stop looking at the floor.’ Tom lifted his hands and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. ‘I want you to look at me.’
Startled by his touch, she stood without moving, staring into her past, feeling the brush of his fingers on her sensitized skin.
She’d loved this man so much.
‘I’m sorry, Sally.’ His voice softened with genuine regret. ‘Sorry for hurting you so badly.’
Those blue eyes drew her in and she struggled against the powerful sexual attraction that still existed between them.
With a monumental effort she broke the contact. First the emotional, then the physical.
Shutting herself down, she stepped backwards.
‘You did what you believed was right,’ she said lightly, managing what she hoped was a dignified smile. ‘And it’s in the past. Oliver’s right—we’ve all moved on. The future is what’s important now.’
And her future wasn’t going to feature this man.
She would never allow herself to be so vulnerable to hurt and pain again.
She lifted her chin and looked at Oliver. ‘When are we eating? I’m starving.’
There was a collective sigh of relief around the room and everyone started talking again.
Everyone except Tom.
His eyes were firmly fixed on Sally, his blue gaze narrow and assessing as he looked at her.
Instantly she turned away, determined not to allow him access to her thoughts.
He’d always been good at reading her.
Too good.
That amazing bond of understanding had been fundamental to the powerful chemistry they’d shared. And it had made it even harder when he’d ended the relationship.
People had come and gone from her life before, but none of them had understood her as Tom had, and it had made the loss even greater.
Determined to normalize the situation, she quickly involved Bryony in a discussion about her new role as a GP registrar.
‘I’ve only been doing it for a month.’ Bryony held out her glass so that Oliver could top it up. ‘I’m just grateful I haven’t got Oliver as my trainer. It would be only marginally worse than working with Jack.’
‘Confronting perfection on a daily basis can be challenging,’ Jack agreed sympathetically, his expression solemn as he looked at his wife.
‘Don’t start,’ Bryony warned, glancing over her shoulder to the Aga. ‘Something’s about to boil over, Helen.’
Helen gave a gasp and dashed to retrieve the pan while Oliver laughed. ‘OK, everybody out! We’re distracting her. Table’s laid in the conservatory. Helen and I will finish up here.’
He ushered them out of the kitchen while Helen drained the vegetables and removed the plates from the warmer.
Wishing she could have stayed in the relative safety of the kitchen, Sally walked into Oliver’s huge glass conservatory and eyed the table warily. Bryony and Jack sat down together on one side of the table, still in mid-argument, which meant that, wherever she sat, she’d be near Tom.
She almost laughed. Of course she’d be near Tom. The table was laid for six. How could she not be near him? And with everyone else in couples, how could this not be intimate?
She was just contemplating whether it would be less nerve-racking to sit opposite him or next to him when Tom settled himself in a vacant chair and looked at his sister.
‘So are you going to the training session tomorrow night?’
Relieved that she wasn’t the focus of attention, Sally slipped into the seat next to Tom, deciding that at least that way she wouldn’t have to look at him.
‘Yes.’ Bryony reached for a bread roll and broke it in half. ‘So is Sally. Sean couldn’t wait to get her back on the team.’
Oliver walked into the room, carrying a huge dish piled high with a delicious-smelling risotto. ‘Didn’t take him long to talk you into that, Sal.’
Sally took a plate from Helen with a smile of thanks. ‘You know Sean.’
Helen spooned some risotto onto her plate. ‘So you’re a mountain girl, too?’
Oliver gave a snort. ‘Sally is more of a mountain girl than any of us. She’s been doing the serious stuff. And she’s going to tell us all about it.’ He topped up everyone’s glasses and then raised his towards Sally. ‘Cheers. And now we want to hear everything, down to the last gory detail.’
‘Not much to tell.’ She’d left in a mess and had somehow managed to rebuild her life. It wasn’t a story she cared to tell in front of Tom. ‘After I left here, I spent some time in the Himalayas. Climbing and working in a clinic there. It was good experience.’
‘What did you climb?’
It was typical of Tom to want the detail. When they’d been young they’d exchanged details of every route.
‘Well, not Everest,’ she said lightly, ‘although I spent some time at base camp and lower down the valley.’ She hesitated. ‘I joined an expedition climbing Ama Dablam, and that was amazing. Such a beautiful mountain.’
Tom’s expression changed and he looked at her with a new respect. ‘You climbed Ama Dablam? That’s a serious climb. How did you cope with the altitude?’
‘Surprisingly well.’
‘Dad and I climbed it. It was our first real Himalayan experience.’
She looked at him and for a moment there were only the two of them in the room. ‘I remember. You raved about it. It was one of the reasons I went there.’
Because going somewhere that he’d been had somehow maintained a link. And she didn’t want to remember how desperately she’d needed that link. Anything that reminded her of Tom. Anywhere that Tom had been, as if he’d imprinted part of himself on the places that he’d visited.
Suddenly realizing that she’d revealed too much, she dropped her eyes to her plate. ‘After Ama Dablam, I travelled. I met a friend and we went mountain biking around Nepal—that was great. We had a good time.’
‘A friend?’ Bryony’s eyes teased her from across the table. ‘We want to hear more about this friend.’
Everyone laughed except Tom, who gazed at her face in brooding silence.
‘You went mountain biking in the Himalayas?’ Helen looked at her in awe. ‘You make me feel exhausted just thinking about it. Didn’t you relax at all?’
Sally fiddled with her food and gave a half-smile. ‘I find climbing relaxing.’
It required all her concentration and that left no room for other thoughts to intrude. Thoughts of Tom. She’d run so that the pain couldn’t catch her and she’d continued to run until she’d finally been sure that she’d left the worst of the agony behind.
‘Well, it certainly doesn’t sound relaxing to me.’ Helen gave a little shudder and Oliver laughed and took her hand.
‘My wife is a townie at heart,’ he teased gently, ‘but we’re trying to convert her. If she doesn’t wear high heels for a few days she has serious withdrawal symptoms.’
Helen’s eyes mocked him. ‘You’re always so derogatory about my choice of footwear, but I don’t hear you complaining when we go out.’
‘I admit it.’ Oliver grinned at her. ‘My fatal weakness. A woman in high heels.’
‘Enough of your strange fetishes.’ Bryony frowned at her brother and turned back to Sally. ‘I had your letter from the Karakorum.’
Helen looked confused. ‘Where—or what—is the Karakorum?’
Tom stirred. ‘It’s a range of mountains in Pakistan.’ He looked at Sally. ‘You went to K2?’
‘I worked as base camp manager for one of the expeditions,’ she told him, ‘and in one of the clinics there. And when that finished one of them persuaded me to travel to Australia so I did and I got a job as a midwife.’
The conversation switched to obstetrics and Sally concentrated on her meal, wondering why she couldn’t relax.
She’d grown up with these people. They were the closest thing to family she had, and yet the only person she was aware of was Tom.
Despite the fact that his chair was several inches from hers, she was supremely conscious of him. The hard muscle of his thigh was tantalizingly close to hers and suddenly she wished she could flick a switch in her body that would delete for ever her awareness of this man.
And he was tense.
She could feel it.
He lounged in his chair, listening to the conversation, his long fingers tapping the table.
‘All right, pay attention. We have some news.’ Bryony tucked her hand into Jack’s and beamed at everyone.
Sally looked at her friend with interest, glad of a distraction from Tom. ‘What news?’
‘I’m pregnant.’ Bryony spoke softly, her gaze slightly shy as she looked at Jack. ‘Two months gone. Not very much really, so we haven’t told anyone except Mum. And now you.’
Helen gave a squeal of delight and dashed round the table to hug Bryony. Oliver shot Jack an amused glance.
