Chapter Ten
CONALL WOKE TO the feeling of being watched.
Not the nape-prickling alert that signalled danger. This was a wash of sensation, like the lap of a warm wave against bare flesh on a tropical beach.
He recognised it instantly. Greer. Looking at him.
Something surged high and hard in his chest. Delight. Her trawling gaze had always felt like a caress, even in the days when they’d both tried to stifle the unstoppable attraction between them.
His buoyant joy punctured. Those days had been easy in comparison with what they faced now.
Then they’d both struggled, trying not to break the taboo of an office romance, where the imbalance of power between them was so immense.
Or so it would seem to the outside world.
In reality Greer had just as much power over him as he had over her.
Most of the time they worked as partners, and when it came to essentials they were equals, sharing everything.
Until she walked out on you.
Turned her back without a second thought and left you frantic with fear.
The only other time he’d felt anything like that terror was as a small child, told by strangers that his mother was dead. He’d been taken into care then sent to a father he didn’t know, all the time struggling to comprehend that his mother had left him.
For Greer to abandon him like that proved she hadn’t been herself. The woman he knew was capable yet caring, tender and generous. Yet she’d left him in limbo for weeks, wondering if she were okay… If she were even alive. He’d been frantic about her, and hurt that she’d walked out.
Adrenaline rushed through his blood at the memory, making his heart pound faster while the remembered taste of terror, like rust and blood, filled his mouth.
He’d been frantic, wondering if she’d been so distraught after losing the baby she might harm herself.
He’d told himself Greer wouldn’t do that. But he’d never thought her capable of disappearing as if he meant nothing to her. That had cut deep.
He’d been desperate to get back to her in Australia, then desperate to find her and keep her safe. He felt that same urgency now. To fix things. To heal them.
Conall took his time stretching out the kinks acquired from a night in a chair not built for someone his height. When he opened his eyes it was to see that lapis lazuli gaze whip away towards the morning light filtering around the curtains.
‘How do you feel? How’s your head?’
She looked at him then and at least he couldn’t see that haze of pain that had clouded her eyes yesterday.
‘Good, thanks.’ Then, as he continued to stare, she lifted one shoulder, her mouth forming the tiniest moue, as if regretting being caught out.
‘A lot better at any rate. Thick in the head but it’s not throbbing anymore. ’
He nodded, relieved that at least she’d stopped pretending. ‘That’s great news.’ She didn’t want to return to hospital, but any sign of problems and he’d have no compunction taking her. ‘Hungry?’
‘I am, but I’ll wait until I’m home.’
It was a slap in the face. Did she realise how that sounded, or wasn’t she thinking?
Only years exposed to the cutthroat business world, first in his father’s home, then working for himself, allowed Conall to mask his emotions.
‘You really want to do this now?’ He’d hoped things would be easier today. He should have known better.
‘Do what?’
She pushed herself up in the bed, flinging back the bedclothes as if about to rise, only to stop. Wide-eyed, she surveyed the midnight-blue silk-and-lace nightgown she wore. It was provocative and skimpy, drawing attention to every feminine curve.
Conall remembered the first time she’d worn it, sashaying out of their bedroom, a gurgle of laughter spilling from her throat as the plate he held slipped from his grasp.
The memory faded as Greer wrenched the sheet high enough to tuck under her arms, scooting back to sit against the head of the bed.
‘I sold the penthouse. This is home now.’
Greer licked her lips. ‘I meant my apartment.’
‘We’re married, sweetheart. Remember?’
He watched her eyes round as if the endearment surprised her. Every hair on his body stood on end at the realisation of how far she’d receded from him. After everything they’d shared it was the cruellest blow of all.
Conall recalled her words yesterday. Her first thought hadn’t been about their relationship but the baby.
His jaw clenched as a beat of pain rose in his body.
He understood, of course. But what scared the hell out of him was her dismissive tone when she’d referred to their marriage, spelling out that her pregnancy had been the only reason they’d wed.
She’d spoken of losing her baby, not their baby. He told himself that was natural, yet it didn’t bode well. Heaviness settled in his belly, cold and hard.
It was only with the news of the miscarriage, while he was so far away he was unable to reach her, that it had truly hit him how much the pregnancy meant to him.
He’d never forgive himself for leaving her that day.
They’d lost their child. A child he’d have cherished as his father had never cherished him. ‘But I don’t feel married. I—’
He didn’t want to hear it. Not now. ‘This isn’t just about you, Greer.
There’s an us, remember?’ Her eyes rounded as if stunned but this had to be said.
‘The only reason we didn’t live together for the last few weeks was so you could gradually take up the threads of your life.
Without facing the trauma of what happened straightaway. ’
Now Conall wondered if that had been a mistake.
She blinked, her lip wobbling for a second before she got it under control. Conall ached for her. He wanted to fold her in his arms and not let her go but this was non-negotiable.
‘I need space. Time alone.’
She voiced his greatest fear.
Even rumpled and with a crease down one lean cheek where he’d slept with his head against the back of the chair, Conall looked so good she had to work to still the quiver of need deep inside.
Greer wanted so badly to be in his embrace.
Part of her craved a return to the morning before when she’d found magic in his embrace and his body melding with hers.
But the devastating reality she’d woken to this morning, the memory of her miscarriage, meant that what she wanted most was the simple comfort of his company.
That was what scared her most. Because what future was there for them?
With the loss of their child, what was at the heart of their marriage?
For her part, love. But she’d seen Conall’s reaction to her pregnancy and understood that being a father wasn’t a goal for him.
It was an obligation he’d accepted because he believed he had to, despite the fact she didn’t fit the mould of a billionaire’s wife.
They came from different worlds that rarely intersected.
Just as she knew his concern for her was based on doing the decent thing.
Love hadn’t been mentioned when he’d proposed.
He’d looked stern, not excited at the prospect of marriage and a child.
At least he hadn’t insulted her by pretending to feel more than he did.
If he’d loved her might he have stayed that fateful day when asked?
But having been pregnant, having begun to imagine a future with her own family, hers and Conall’s, Greer realised that was what she wanted for herself.
Not just the career she’d focused on for so long, but children.
Family. A real home. Somewhere to settle and put down roots.
Build relationships. To surround herself with love.
‘There’s space for you here.’ His rough voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘I won’t crowd you, Greer, but I don’t want you to be alone.’
‘I’m perfectly capable—’
‘That’s not in question. You’re the most capable person I know. But sometimes being alone with only your own thoughts and no circuit breaker isn’t the best option. You were by yourself in the mountains, but I don’t think the solitude helped. Did it?’
She frowned. Much of her time in the cottage had been a blur of pain. She’d gone over and over what she might have done to precipitate the miscarriage or prevent it. Even told herself it wouldn’t have happened if Conall had stayed with her.
She hadn’t felt better when she returned to Sydney and work. She’d just known that she had to make a change, move forward and try to concentrate on things other than her grief.
‘Only a little,’ she admitted.
Her breath caught as memory lodged, of her first night in the cottage.
How she’d craved Conall’s arms around her, the simple, human connection.
How much it would have meant to have his deep voice whispering reassurance, his strength supporting her.
Instead he’d been half a world away and she’d felt cut off from everyone and everything.
‘I thought as much.’ His deep voice rumbled through her. ‘Those weeks alone were the bleakest of my life.’
Her gaze caught his, widening in shock as she read the truth in his eyes. It was hard to believe his connection to the baby was so strong. No, he’d been worried about her.
‘I don’t want you to be alone anymore, Greer. I don’t want to be alone.’ His crooked smile that tugged something in her chest. ‘It’s a big house. You can have this suite to yourself if you really want.’
His gaze bored into hers as if compelling her to admit she’d rather share with him. When she said nothing his smile disintegrated. ‘I’ll move into another suite. I’ll be nearby when you need me and when you’re ready, we’ll talk.’
She swallowed, her throat dry. The last thing she wanted was to talk about the miscarriage. What she wanted was to throw herself into his arms and pretend nothing bad had happened. To luxuriate in the comfort of his embrace while she grappled with grief and her jumbled emotions.
‘I…’ Greer bit her lip, fighting opposing impulses.
But she knew from the set of Conall’s jaw that he wouldn’t give up.