Chapter Five #3
‘No, no... I really ought to head off.’ She drained the last of her juice. ‘What is it that you want to ask me?’
‘It’s a bit sensitive.’
‘It’s fine,’ she invited. ‘Just ask.’
In another version of themselves, Dominic thought, he would take her hand. That was how things had worked for them. Except that wasn’t appropriate now, so instead of holding her hand, he steepled his fingers and pushed himself to speak.
‘The photos of Christopher that were taken at the hospital... I don’t have any.’
‘I’ll get you some,’ Rachel said hurriedly, wishing she had a sip of juice left, because her mouth was suddenly dry and she could hear the roar of her pulse in her ears as Dominic spoke on.
‘I did attempt to get some from the hospital, but it’s closed down and I hit a wall trying.’
She nodded. ‘I’ll have some copies made.’
‘I don’t want to upset you...’ He tried to gauge her expression, but it was completely closed off. ‘But I’d really appreciate it.’
‘If you can give me a few days...?’
‘Whenever you have time.’
She nodded again.
‘Rachel...’
He knew, despite appearances, that she was hurting. He couldn’t not take her hand—except she pulled her hand back and took herself completely out of bounds.
* * *
‘I said I’d get them for you.’
Rachel knew she’d snapped, that she’d overreacted to his touch, but it was either that or break down.
Right now she was mourning not just the loss of her baby, but also all the moments they’d never shared—as a family, as a couple.
So badly did she want to take Dominic’s hand, take him back to her empty flat and go through those photos together.
But they hadn’t been able to accomplish that when they were married, so there was no chance now they were not.
She moved to stand. ‘I really ought to go.’
‘You’re sure?’ Dominic checked, and she nodded.
But of course it wasn’t as simple as just getting up and walking out.
As if she were dressing for a North Pole expedition, on went her coat, the scarf and the hat. But, feeling his impatience, she omitted the gloves and stuffed them into her pocket instead.
‘Don’t you have a coat?’ she asked as they headed out.
‘No need. I’m driving,’ Dominic said, though she noticed he had not offered her a lift home.
They walked out of the pub together and into the dark car park, both wondering how to end this rather awkward meeting.
Rachel did not recognise his mood. He stood taller than usual, if that was possible, and his expression was serious. Her own feelings were jumbled up after being asked to give him copies of the photos, and it was awkward to know how to say goodbye.
Though it should not be awkward because there was nothing to say—or rather, because there was so much to say that they did not know how to discuss. Their failed marriage and the baby they’d lost, the photos he didn’t have and their working together, the attraction that still existed between them.
That persisted.
For, despite all the changes over the years, there were parts of Dominic she recognised.
Like the slight glaze that came to his eyes when he wanted her.
The way he stood just a smidge too close and dominated her space.
Or was it that she’d stepped a little closer into his?
And when he looked down at her, and she looked up at him, they both recognised the want in the other person’s eyes.
It wasn’t fair, Rachel thought. All desire for each other should have been returned with the divorce papers. Every shred of want should have been annulled.
Except it hadn’t been.
He was smartly dressed, but end-of-day dishevelled, and he was hungry—she knew it as well as if he had told her himself. She simply knew. And, though he stood still, she also knew he was restless.
In another time they’d be kissing now.
In an older version of themselves they would not have been able to wait for each other’s mouths until they were home...
‘Are you getting the Tube?’ Dominic asked gruffly, and she nodded. ‘Then I’ll say goodnight here.’
‘Sure.’
How to leave him, though?
A little wave? Rachel thought, but that seemed stupid.
A handshake, then? Even worse.
And, anyway, evidently they did not know how to do a handshake—because as his fingers met hers she looked down at their hands and saw they were entwined once again, and she could not bring herself to pull her hand away.
A small kiss, perhaps?
Before she knew what was happening, their touching hands led to moving in for a small kiss...
Except it was rather like testing the Christmas tree lights, not really expecting them to be working, but then being stunned by the blazing, breathtaking effect when they suddenly sparked into life.
The instant their lips met they were hurtled back to a time when touch had not been out of bounds. To a time when they had relished each other completely.
Her body lit like a flare, her senses jamming at the return to this bliss.
There was nothing tentative about this kiss.
It was harsh, and thorough, and when gravity wasn’t enough to keep her standing, instead of holding her up he kissed her against the cold brick wall of the car park.
He pulled off her hat and it fell silently to the wet ground. He made her want sex in dark places as he filled her senses with his touch, his taste, his smell. His ragged breathing told her that he wanted the same. The frantic tangle of their tongues left them both suddenly desperate.
He went for her belt and parted the fabric of her coat, building to a kiss that was too much for a drink after work on a Monday.
It was a kiss that warned them they could never be just friends.
* * *
And then Dominic felt an unwelcome tap on his shoulder. Only it wasn’t a person—it wasn’t even his conscience. It was the unwelcome thought that they were hurtling towards an affair.
And Dominic, thanks to the less-than-gorgeous lessons of his parents’ marriage, would never go there.
‘For God’s sake, Rachel!’ he accused as he pulled back. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
‘Me?’ she shot back, because he knew he hadn’t exactly been unwilling. ‘It takes two!’
‘Yes, but I’m not the one who’s engaged.’
Dominic was furious with himself.
While a torrid affair was way down on his list of wants, messing up her life again was way more abhorrent.
‘Go home,’ he told her.
He looked down at her coat that he had parted, at her tousled hair and freshly kissed mouth. He wished for an eraser that might somehow unsex her—if there were such a thing. For if Rachel had ever come home to him looking like that, he’d have known in an instant.
He reached for her belt and started to tie it. ‘This never happened,’ he said. ‘This is never going to happen ag—’
* * *
‘Gordon and I broke up,’ Rachel cut in, and felt his hands still. ‘I ended it last week.’
He looked at her then—right at her. And she rather hoped they could get back to kissing...get back to a moment ago, when she had been swept away by the power of their connection.
But now she had cleared the air and finally told him.
Except the bark of his response to the news startled her.
‘Why would you go and do that?’
Rachel didn’t know what to say.
But that didn’t matter because Dominic had plenty to say!
‘Don’t do this, Rachel.’
‘Do what?’
‘Don’t throw away a relationship over me...’
‘I didn’t.’
‘I mean it, Rachel. We will not be getting back together. I have nothing to offer you, as far as the future’s concerned.’
His words were so blunt, his statement so absolute, that something inside her shrivelled.
And as she stood there being told—yes, told—that there was absolutely no chance for them, that marriage and babies were the very last thing he wanted, she knew that hope had just died.
The little flicker of hope she hadn’t even known existed had just been doused.
Embarrassment and anger kicked her into damage control mode and she gave a mocking laugh. ‘You? You really think I threw away a three-year relationship over you? What happened to you, Dominic? When did you get so arrogant?’
He let go of her completely then, and there was only one word going through Rachel’s head: deny, deny, deny.
‘Did it not enter your head that I could end a relationship without factoring you in?’ She breathed in hard and found some strength. ‘Gordon and I had only just moved in together, and I realised almost straight away that we’d made a mistake.’
That, at least, was the truth.
‘Fair enough,’ Dominic said. ‘But, Rachel, I have to be sure. Because you and I...’ He looked down at her and she recalled the pain and the hell of the end of their marriage. ‘We didn’t work.’
‘Obviously.’
‘And, despite what I might have said before, I do want you to be happy. It just won’t be with me. And so if my presence did have any impact on your decision, I suggest you go back to your fiancé and patch things up...’
‘I would never use him like that, Dominic.’ She blinked as she tried to fathom him. ‘You seem to prefer that I be engaged.’
‘I’d prefer,’ Dominic clipped, ‘that you’d never come back into my life.’
* * *
It was a horrible thing to say.
And as she turned and walked off Dominic knew he didn’t really mean it.
After all, he’d tried to get in touch—not once, but twice over the years.
And now Rachel Walker had arrived back in his life with a pile of excess baggage—an awful lot of which belonged to him.
And it hurt to examine it.