Chapter 11 #2
“I know.” He took her hand, kissed it. “What it means is a great deal to me. Do you remember what you wrote?”
“Some of it.”
“This part.” He looked down at the letter. “‘I wanted you to know that in my heart I wanted you to be where you belonged.’” He set the letter aside. “Did you mean that?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll be happy to know that I’m exactly where I belong.” With long, slow kisses, he eased her back on the bed. “And so are you.”
***
Sunny didn’t have any trouble finding the tracks. There were only two sets, both from the Land Rover. One leading away from the cabin and one leading back. Her face grim, she kept her hands firm on the wheel and her mind empty.
She wouldn’t think, not yet. Once she had begun to think it would probably send her screaming off a cliff. True, she’d always had an affection for the unusual, but this . . . this was going a bit too far.
When she saw the ship, nestled comfortably on a blanket of snow, she hit the brakes too hard and sent the Land Rover skidding sideways. It looked as big as a house.
She imagined it was half the size of the cargo ship Cal had piloted. Probably sleeker, jazzier. Its smooth white finish gleamed in the sunlight. She saw what appeared to be a window that banded around the bow. As she gaped, Jacob stepped up to it and looked out at her.
The sight of him inside it, inside of something that shouldn’t even exist, turned her blank astonishment back into fury. Abandoning the Land Rover, she leaped out and stormed over to the ship.
He released the hatch. The door slid silently open, and a set of stairs flowed out. She mounted them, moving a little slower now. Going over the speech he’d planned, Jacob reached out to take her hand and help her through the entranceway.
“Sunny, I—” Whatever he had planned to say was interrupted when her fisted hand connected solidly with his jaw. Off balance and seeing stars, he stumbled back and landed hard on the deck.
She loomed over him, righteous fury glowing in her eyes. “Get up, you miserable coward, so I can hit you again.”
He sat where he was for a moment, rubbing a hand over his jaw. He didn’t mind the blow so much. He knew he’d had it coming. But he didn’t care to be called a coward. Under the circumstances, though, it was best to let her get it all out of her system.
“You’re upset.”
“Upset?” The word hissed out between her teeth. “I’ll show you upset.” Because he obviously wasn’t going to get up, she dived onto him.
She knocked the wind out of him with another punch as he grappled for her hands. “Damn it, Sunny, stop. I’m going to have to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” Blind with anger, she struck out as he struggled to roll on top of her. This time her knee slipped by his guard and landed dead on. As the air whistled out of his lungs, he collapsed on top of her. “Get off me, you creep.”
He couldn’t have moved if his life had depended on it. The pain, deserved or not, was like a silvery shimmer from crotch to brain. His only defense was his weight as he sprawled breathlessly over her.
“Sunny . . .” He dragged air into his lungs and saw a new constellation. “Your match,” he conceded.
The fight had drained out of her. She didn’t want him to know how weak and helpless she felt. With her jaw tensed, she prayed her voice wouldn’t tremble.
“I said get off me.”
“As soon as I’m sure I’m still intact. If you let me get my wind back, we can go another round.” He managed to lift his head.
She was crying. Huge, silent tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. More stunned by them than by the blow, he shook his head. “Don’t.” He brushed the tears away, but more fell to replace them. “Damn it, Sunny, stop it.”
“Let go of me.”
He rolled aside, determined to leave her alone until she composed herself. Before he realized it, he was gathering her close, dragging her onto his lap, stroking her hair.
“Don’t touch me.” Her body was rigid. Anger and humiliation battled inside her. “I don’t want you to touch me.”
“I know. I have to.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yeah.” He pressed his lips to her hair. “I’m sorry.”
“You used me.”
“No.” His arms tightened. “No. You know better than that.”
“I don’t know you at all.” She tried to arch away, but he only cradled her closer. Abruptly she threw her arms around him, burying her face against his throat. “I hate you. I’ll hate you as long as I live.”
The tears were no longer silent. They poured out in hard, racking sobs as she clung to him.
He said nothing, had nothing to say. The woman who had knocked him flat with a right hook he understood.
The one who clawed and spit and fought he knew how to handle.
This one, this soft, weeping bundle in his arms, was a mystery. Defenseless, heartbroken, fragile.
And he fell in love with this Sunny, as well.
She clung to him, hating herself. She wanted to strike out, to make him pay for breaking her heart, but she could only hold on, taking the comfort he offered.
Carefully he rose with her in his arms. He needed to soothe, to protect, to love. He wanted to stroke her until her tears dried, hold her until her body calmed again. Most of all he wanted to show her that of all the things he’d done falling in love with her was the most important.
She couldn’t stop, though she despised every tear. She couldn’t fight him now, at her weakest point. Now she could only hold on to him, let the storm rage and find some small comfort in the gentle way he held her.
He took her into his cabin, where the light was dim. The bed was water-soft, covered with pale blue sheets. The walls were blue, as well. A quiet, restful color. Still holding her, he lay with her on the bed while her tears dampened his cheek.
When her sobs began to lessen, he trailed his lips down her temple to her mouth. Her lips were wet, and they were still trembling. As his touched them, she pulled away to roll onto her side.
“Sunny.” Feeling awkward, he touched her shoulder. “Please, talk to me.”
She didn’t bother to jerk his hand away. She just stared at the pale blue wall. “I feel like such a fool. Crying over you.”
He didn’t know if any woman had ever done that before. Certainly none had ever cried in his arms. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Being lied to always hurts.”
“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you the truth.” He could see the logic of it, needed to. But he doubted she could. “I was going to tell you everything today.”
She nearly laughed. “Do they still use that old chestnut in the twenty-third century?” She had said it out loud.
The twenty-third century. And she was in what could only be called a spaceship with a man who wouldn’t be born until she was long dead.
She’d have preferred to believe it was all a dream, but the pain was too real.
“I came for my brother,” he told her. “I never planned to become involved with you, to fall in love with you. It happened too fast.”
“I was there, remember?”
“Look at me.”
She shook her head. “Let’s just forget it, J.T. A man like you probably thinks he’s entitled to have a woman in every century.”
“I said look at me.” Patience gone, he pulled her back, holding her by the shoulders so that she was forced to meet his eyes. “I love you.”
The words seeped into her and weakened her resolve. Her only defense was heat. “Apparently the definition of love has changed. Don’t lose any sleep over it. I’ll be fine.”
“Will you listen to me?”
“It doesn’t matter what you say.”
“Then it won’t hurt to listen.”
She shook her head fiercely. Now that the tears were over, she was ready to lash out again.
“You never intended to stay with me, to build a life with me. It was just a temporary arrangement for you. But I can’t blame you for that.
You never promised, you only implied. And you never used the old candlelight-and-wine routine to romance stars into my eyes. ”
But the stars had been there, she thought. She’d been blinded by them. “In any case, I’m responsible for my own feelings. But I can blame you, and I can detest you, for not being honest.”
“It was too complicated. I didn’t know how you would react.”
“I thought scientists were supposed to experiment. You are a scientist, aren’t you?”
“Yes. All right. The fact is, I just didn’t want to think about anything but you when I was with you.
” When she struggled to turn away again, he held her still.
“You wanted honesty, so listen to it. Whatever I did, it was because I couldn’t stop myself.
I didn’t want to stop myself. If that was wrong, it was because I stopped thinking with my head.
If I handled it badly, it was because I didn’t know how to approach you here, now.
I didn’t feel I could tell you about all of this.
And then I was falling in love and didn’t know how to deal with it.
Didn’t know how you would expect me to.”
Frustrated, he stroked her cheek. “Sunny, I didn’t think it was possible to tell you the truth. And I didn’t know how . . .” He stopped, swore. “If it had been possible, I would have shown you more romance, but I didn’t have a gift for you.”
“A gift?” She’d really believed she was too weary to become annoyed again. She’d been wrong. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Romance,” he repeated, more than a little embarrassed. “Attention, flattery, the giving of gifts.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.
Romance? Is that your superior species’ definition of romance?
” She pushed his hands away. “Idiot. Romance has nothing to do with presents or flattery. It has to do with caring and compassion, with sharing your hopes and your dreams. It means being honest.”
“This is honest.”