All the same, she hesitated before walking up to his door.
She knocked and waited, her heart in her mouth.
He’d tell her to go away.
He’d tell her it wasn’t wise, or sensible, to get involved a second time.
And she’d tell him—
She frowned and knocked again, but it seemed she wasn’t going to be able to tell him anything because there was no answer.
As she turned away she heard a soft splash and walked to the end of the deck.
He was the only person in the sea, cutting through the water with smooth, powerful strokes as he swam from one side of the bay to the other.
She watched him without noticing the passage of time, absorbed by masculine power and sheer athletic ability.
The sea had to be cold, but he kept up the relentless rhythm and she kept watching until finally he swam back towards the cabin and hauled himself onto the deck.
Water streamed off his broad shoulders and turned his hair sleek and inky dark. He cleared his face with his hand, reached for a towel and noticed her.
The way he stilled made her think of a sleek, dangerous jungle cat.
His gaze met hers. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes.” She pushed her hands into the pockets of her cargoes, nerves dancing in her belly and mingling with sexual awareness. When he reached for his sweats she shook her head. “Don’t bother getting dressed. I’m just going to undress you again so you might as well save me time.”
His hand froze in midair. “Brittany—”
“I’m tired of pretending, Zach. I’m tired of feeling this way and not doing anything about it. And don’t tell me you don’t feel it, too, because I know you’d be lying. We almost had sex in front of Philip back there, and that’s not good. There’s a reason you’re taking a long dip in the cold sea, and I doubt it’s all down to an interest in physical fitness.”
His movements slow and steady, he looped the towel around his neck. “As I said the other night, you’re a smart girl. And you’re thinking of making the same mistake twice?”
“Being with you wasn’t a mistake.” She spoke softly, her voice just audible over the soft rush of the sea as it hit the sand. “Marrying you might have been, but not the rest of it. And the marriage part was my fault. I pushed you.”
“I could have said no.”
“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. It’s history. If we’d met for the first time a few weeks ago, we’d both have baggage, but it wouldn’t be with each other. The past isn’t relevant. That was then and this is now. I’m not eighteen anymore, Zach. I know what I want.”
Somehow they’d moved towards each other, and now he was standing right in front of her. His height and the width of his shoulders almost blocked the glowing circle of the moon but there was still enough light for her to see the rigid tension in his jaw.
“I’ll hurt you. I’ll screw up and break your heart. It’s what I do.”
“That isn’t going to happen. And I don’t think it’s my heart you’re worried about. I think it’s your own.” She put her hand on his chest and felt the steady beat of his heart under her palm. A quick glance might have suggested his body was perfect, all smooth, taut lines and curving muscle. A closer look revealed imperfections, scars she knew were there, but that he’d always refused to talk about.
She’d told herself that his past was his business. That if he didn’t want to talk, that was his decision. She’d told herself that everyone had a right to their secrets.
But what if he simply hadn’t trusted her enough to talk?
Guilt settled over her and she had a flash of self-insight almost too uncomfortable to examine.
She should have kept asking.
She should have—
“What’s wrong?” His voice was rough and he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “Changing your mind? Are you afraid? Because you should be.”
Ten years ago she would have assumed that comment was about her, but now she knew better. Now she knew it was about him.