As he lifted the lid, Melody gazed down at the silver boots the box contained. The soft leather was worked with tiny crystals in a curling design that wound from toe to heel in a thin line on the outer side of each boot, and she would have known immediately—even if she hadn’t seen the name on the box—that they’d cost an arm and a leg. She didn’t remove the boots from their bed of tissue paper, raising her eyes to Zeke before she spoke. ‘I can’t accept these. I mean it, Zeke. I don’t want anything else.’
He sat back a little, folding his arms over his chest as he surveyed her with an air of deceptive meekness. ‘Why not?’
‘I shouldn’t have taken the clothes,’ she said by way of answer, feeling churlish but knowing she had to make him see.
‘But you did,’ he pointed out gently, ‘and these are part of that gift.’ His eyes lowered to the black leather boots she was wearing, which were definitely more serviceable than anything else and couldn’t compare to the exotic creations in the box.
Melody’s mouth tightened as her chin rose. She knew what he was thinking, but he either took her out in her old boots or not at all. ‘I’m sorry, Zeke. They’re beautiful, but no.’
The mockery in the black eyes showed he was fully aware of what she was thinking. ‘No problem,’ he said lazily. ‘If you change your mind before we leave they’re here.’
‘I won’t.’ She stood up abruptly. Sitting so close, she could smell the expensive sensual aftershave he favoured, and it was playing havoc with her thought process.
Zeke rose too, walking across to where a tray holding two glasses of her favourite cocktail—sapphire martini—was waiting. He handed her one of the frosted martini glasses full of the chilled gin and blue liqueur. ‘No toasts tonight, but I hope you enjoy the evening,’ he said softly. ‘We’re eating after the theatre, if that’s okay? I thought it would give us time to work up an appetite after all that cake.’
Melody took a sip of the cocktail. The very blue, very sweet liqueur tasted slightly of lavender, contrasting wonderfully with the spicy gin, and giving her the kick she needed to be able to smile and say fairly normally, ‘That’s fine. I’m not hungry.’
‘We’ll have to work on getting that appetite of yours back. I was always amazed at how much you could eat.’
Melody stared at him. ‘I was a dancer,’ she said flatly. ‘I burnt off the calories. Everything is different now.’
‘Not everything.’ He leant closer.
With her heart thudding, Melody waited for his kiss. As his lips closed over hers they tasted of the bittersweet cocktail and a warm thrill of pleasure quivered down her spine. When Zeke exerted his charm it was as potent as mulled wine, heady and intoxicating. He was irresistible and he knew it.
He broke the kiss for just a moment, to place their glasses on the coffee table, and then took her in his arms again, holding her lightly against him as his mouth teased at hers. She found herself swept into the world of sensuous delight Zeke evoked so easily, and as she responded to him his arms tightened around her and his lips demanded more intimacy. She abandoned all reserve—for a crazy moment she couldn’t do anything else, didn’t want to do anything else. This was Zeke and she adored him; for a few blissful seconds that was all that mattered.
It was Zeke who finished the embrace by gently withdrawing, although he still continued to hold her, his eyes as black as night as he stared down at her flushed face.
Melody felt light-headed and slightly dazed, her eyes cloudy with desire as she struggled to compose herself. Part of her was shocked and embarrassed at how easily Zeke could break through her defences; another part of her had known this would happen. Zeke was a very physical man; he’d always wanted to touch and hold and kiss her and she had wanted it too.
‘You and I haven’t changed,’ Zeke said huskily. ‘Surely you understand that now? Nothing could come between what we have. We’re meant to be together. You must believe that.’
It would have been so easy to melt into him again and just agree, to let her need of him—his strength, his security, his overpowering maleness—take control. Over the past months she had been fighting constantly—fighting to get better, to control the negative thoughts that hit at all times of the night and day, to accept the fact of a future without Zeke.
Easy, but not right. That was the hard truth.
Melody stepped away from the warm circle of his arms. She looked at him and swallowed, hating what she had to say but knowing it must be said. ‘It’s over, Zeke,’ she said, very quietly but with a finality he couldn’t fail to recognise. ‘I have accepted that and you have to. If you love me, you’ll let me go. I can’t be in your world any more. It might sound dramatic, but I know how much I can stand and that would be the final straw. It would destroy me here, inside. I have to make a new life for myself and find out who I am now.’
‘You’re my wife,’ he said thickly.
If she hadn’t been feeling so wretched Melody could have smiled. That was so Zeke. Black and white. He had never seen shades of grey. Not trusting herself to speak, she shook her head slowly, her eyes on his dark face.
‘It’s Christmas Eve.’ He leant forward and kissed her again—a hard, confident kiss, strong and sweet. ‘And at this moment in time you are my wife and we are going out to enjoy ourselves. We’re not thinking beyond that. No more about the future, not even tomorrow. Tonight we’re living in the moment, one minute at a time, and that’s all that matters. Okay?’
The kiss had left her breathless and shaken, but with an effort she forced a smile. Their last night together. It was going to be bittersweet, but why couldn’t it be a night to remember? A step out of time? Zeke knew how she felt, she’d made it crystal-clear, so it wasn’t as if she was masquerading under false pretences. And it would be something to remember in the lonely months and years ahead.
He had retrieved their glasses and now she drank deeply of the cocktail, knowing she’d never be able to drink it again because it would be forever linked with this last night and the pain which was piercing her through.
‘There’s canapés and champagne waiting in our box at the theatre, so if you’re ready?’ Zeke said softly as she drained her glass. He took her arm, his touch firm but gentle.
Melody took a deep breath. Her first real venture into the outside world since the accident and she was certainly plunging into the deep end, she thought wryly. There was bound to be people they knew at the theatre—people who were aware of her injuries and who would be watching her with scalpel-sharp eyes. Hopefully once they were in their box there would be a degree of privacy, but until then… She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. ‘Ready.’
It was a lie. She would never be ready. And she was scared, so scared, but she could do this. It was just one night after all.
Zeke pulled her coat round her shoulders, his touch sending tiny bolts of electricity down her nerve endings. It was always the same. Even when he inadvertently touched her it registered every time.
Just before they left the room he turned her round to face him, slowly raising her left hand with her wedding and engagement rings to his lips. He kissed her wrist first, his mouth warm against the silky flesh where her pulse beat, and then turned her hand over and kissed the rings, his lips caressing and gentle. ‘You’ve nothing to fear from me,’ he said very quietly. ‘I promise you that. I will never hurt you.’