She knelt beside the sofa, reached out a finger. Her heart thumped fast against her ribs. Everything inside her yearned. Just one touch… One touch of that petal skin… So smooth, so silky.
The moment Sophie stroked a finger down the infant’s cheek, all noise ceased instantly and Arabella stared at her with barely focused eyes. For a beat out of time Sophie froze. Then she caressed her again. Leaned closer to smell that baby scent of powder and milk, to curve her palm over the soft fuzzy scalp.
And forgot she didn’t go near babies.
‘Hush little baby, don’t you cry…’ She sang the lyrics so quietly she barely heard herself. But Arabella heard. And she seemed entranced, her tiny mouth open, her eyes…Sophie swore they knew her.
No. She bit her lip to stop the tears. Why was fate so cruel? To give her such a gift and at the same time to take her ability to have babies away? It wasn’t fair.
Yet she was still a woman, she reminded herself. Jared had shown her that. For the first time in five years he’d made her feel like a woman, feminine and desired and cherished.
But as she gazed down at the infant, the doubt demons perched on her shoulder. Would he still feel the same way if he knew? To be rejected again, to see the man she’d fallen in love with look at her as less…she didn’t think she’d ever get over it.
Jared came to a halt inside the doorway. Sophie was leaning towards the baby capsule, her hand fisted against her mouth and a moment’s alarm slid through him. ‘Sophie?’
She whirled to him, eyes wide and panicked before she blanked the emotion and said, ‘She seems to be settled now.’
He hadn’t seen her touch the infant but he could’ve sworn he’d witnessed…something.
And in that blinding moment of clarity he’d seen his future flash before him.
A future that included Sophie. A home. And kids.
Home and kids? He wasn’t near ready for any of that and shook his head to clear it. ‘Sophie, wh—’
‘I’m sorry to run out on you.’ She glanced at her watch, then yanked the iron’s cord from the wall socket and picked up a little black blouse from the ironing board. ‘But I wasn’t expecting you yet. I’m meeting friends for a drink this evening since you weren’t coming by till eleven. Feel free to stay here for a while though…’
As long as you and the baby are gone when I get back. He read those words in her expression as clear as glass, in the lack of eye contact, her jerky movements. ‘You didn’t say you were going out.’
‘I’m not meeting a guy, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘No,’ he said carefully, ‘that’s not what I’m thinking.’
She held the blouse up and inspected it. ‘I wasn’t aware we had to account to each other for every moment of our time.’
No strings. Wasn’t that the exact kind of relationship he wanted? Damn it. ‘Is that what you think this is about, Sophie?’
‘Jared.’ Her fists tightened on the garment she held and now her eyes found his. Locked on his and pleaded with him. ‘Let’s just enjoy our last few days?’ Her appeal was like a tangible presence in the room with them. ‘Please?’
‘Okay,’ he said finally, the remnants of his vision of a future he’d never imagined fluttering like petals on the periphery of his consciousness. Hitching the baby bag onto his shoulder, he picked up the carry basket with its now cooing passenger. What choice did he have with an infant in his care for the next few hours? ‘Go and enjoy your evening. I’ll be back at eleven.’
As he turned to pull the door shut he saw her shoulders slump and her eyes held a puzzle he wished to hell he understood.
Twenty-three minutes past two. He should be doing what Sophie had asked and making the most of the rest of the night with her. Instead, he wandered the night-darkened esplanade, the eternal thump-boom of the surf in his ears, his thoughts going around in circles and coming back to what Sophie had said when he’d left earlier.
Ten days. Why let her obvious hang-ups with kids come between them and a good time? Live and love to the max, enjoy what they had while they had it. Wasn’t that all that mattered in their ‘short-term relationship’? That was obviously what mattered to Sophie.
And it was exactly what he’d told himself he wanted. She wasn’t looking for more either. So it was just about perfect, right?
Right. He turned back, following the sandy path back to his car. He ignored the hollow feeling in his gut as he slid onto the leather seat.
But he didn’t switch the ignition on. Instead, he slammed his fists on the steering wheel. No. Not right. Nothing about this was right. Just good times?