A Christmas Night to Remember

‘Where did that come from?’ Melody asked, surprised.

‘I know this theatre from old. It’s too hot in the summer and cold in the winter, but its charm cancels out such inconveniences.’ Zeke topped up her champagne as he spoke, his voice warm as he added, ‘Relax and enjoy the show. You’re doing great. I’m proud of you, my darling.’

It was the look in his eyes rather than what he said that caused her to flush and gulp at her champagne. She had forgotten how he made her feel when she was with him—no, that was wrong. She bit her bottom lip. She hadn’t forgotten, had merely tried to bury the memory along with a host of others. And he would never understand, not in a million years, because she didn’t understand it herself. It was just this sort of thing that made it imperative she walked away from him now, while things were still civilised between them. She couldn’t bear to experience a slow whittling away of such moments as their relationship went sour.

Was she crazy? She sipped her drink, staring unseeing across the theatre. Probably. Almost definitely. And certainly cowardly and weak and spineless.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and his dark gaze was soft on her face. ‘Thinking again,’ he stated ruefully. ‘I would like to flick a little switch in here—’ he touched her brow lightly ‘—and turn your head off for a while. How can I do that, my sweet wife? How can I make you live in the moment?’

She shrugged, pretending a nonchalance she didn’t feel.

‘I only know of one sure way, but that’s impossible in here,’ Zeke went on contemplatively. ‘Impossible to do properly, anyway, and after waiting so long…’

Melody took another hurried sip of champagne, deciding silence was the quickest way to end this disturbing one-sided conversation. She pretended an interest in the stalls below.

‘Remember how it was between us?’ He stretched his long legs, sliding one arm along the back of her seat, so close his body warmth surrounded her as his quiet, smoky voice wove a deliberate spell. ‘Those nights when we didn’t fall asleep until dawn? The taste of pure ecstasy, long and slow and lasting. You’re mine, Dee. You’ll always be mine, as I’m yours. There’s no other way for either of us now we’ve feasted on perfection.’

‘Don’t.’ Her breath caught in her throat, his words causing a chain reaction in her body she was powerless to control. And he knew it, she thought helplessly.

‘Don’t?’ His husky voice drifted around her like a sensuous cloud. ‘Don’t speak the truth? But the truth will set you free. Isn’t that what they say? And you’re not facing the truth. Not yet. Our lifestyle, my work, other people—that’s all on the perimeter of us, you and me.’

He was confusing her, blurring the edges. She shook her head, on the verge of getting up and leaving. It was the dimming of the lights that forestalled such an action, but she sat stiff and taut as the show began, every nerve and sinew in her body stretched to breaking point.

In spite of her acute distress, the drama being enacted on stage began to work its magic after a while. The special effects were spellbinding, and the heroine’s voice enchanting, but it was the dancers who took most of Melody’s attention—especially the lead female, who was as supple and gr

aceful as a young gazelle. It was bittersweet watching the girl, and at first pain overshadowed her perception, but then she felt herself swept into the performance to such an extent she had to bump back to earth when the interval arrived.

‘Well?’ Zeke’s eyes were waiting for her as the lights brightened. ‘Enjoying it?’ he said gently.

Melody nodded, still half lost in the performance. ‘It’s brilliant—absolutely brilliant. And I’m not criticising, but—’

‘But?’ he pressed her when she stopped abruptly.

‘I’d have arranged that last dance number differently. It would have been far more poignant if the lead dancer was taken by the underworld after it finished rather than pulling her out at the beginning. The scene lost something without her present.’

Zeke nodded. ‘I agree.’

‘That way the roles of Cassandra and Alex could have been tweaked to make them more involved in the struggle, rather than being almost observers.’ Melody stopped abruptly, aware of the half-smile on Zeke’s face. ‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ Zeke turned as a waitress appeared with a plate of fresh savouries and coffee which he’d obviously arranged to have brought to their box. After tipping the girl handsomely he closed the door after her, enclosing them in their own private little world again. He solicitously plied her with the delicious morsels, and unlike previously his conversation was now easy and amusing, requiring little in response from her.

To her immense surprise Melody found she was enjoying herself in spite of the nerves still making themselves felt in the pit of her stomach. She had dreaded battling her way to the crowded bar in the interval—a place where many of their contemporaries liked to see and be seen—and with that obstacle dealt with, the pleasure of being out on the town after all her weeks incarcerated in the hospital was foremost.

Zeke handed her a cup of coffee, his thigh briefly brushing hers, and immediately she tensed. He was wearing a clean, sharp aftershave that blended well with his own personal male scent, and he had always looked exceptionally good in a dinner suit, his particular brand of hard, rugged sexiness emphasised by the formal attire. ‘This is nice,’ he said in a contented murmur, his brawny shoulder against hers.

It was. Too nice. Melody said nothing and the comfortable silence changed, becoming uncomfortable. Still she didn’t break it. Zeke sipped his black coffee slowly, his face calm and inscrutable. She had no idea what he was thinking. Not that she ever had. The thought troubled her with its truth and she chewed it over, worrying at it like a dog with a bone.

Was it because he deliberately kept his thoughts from her and because he was enigmatic, private? Or—and here her fingers clenched on her coffee cup—because she had never taken the time to find out his innermost feelings and desires? She had been so occupied with her career, with making good, surviving in the glitzy, showy world they inhabited, that she’d been content to skate on the surface of their marriage while everything had been easy and harmonious. Her amazement that he had chosen her as his wife, that it was all too good to be true, had induced a feeling that she must be careful not to rock the boat and it had been simpler not to delve too deeply.

Children, for instance. She glanced at his chiselled profile, her heart thudding. When they’d spoken of a family she had sensed he wanted children soon, but she’d never really talked to him about that, preferring to relegate it to somewhere in the hazy future. From the way he’d spoken earlier, when the two little Japanese girls had prompted things, it was clear he wanted to be a father—probably needed to create a family unit more than most men due to his upbringing. He would want to give his own children everything he’d never had. Why had she never realised that before?

Because she hadn’t taken the time to consider; she had been too busy keeping up with how she felt the wife of Zeke James should be. It symbolised everything which had been wrong in their relationship before the accident and most of it was down to her. But it had been impossible to bring her insecurities into the open because they’d been buried too deep, locked way in the small, scared child part of herself. But she wasn’t a child any more. She was a grown woman, and she had to come to terms with her buried fears and emotions before she could function properly as a person, let alone a wife.

She was a mess. Melody sipped at her coffee as tears pricked the backs of her eyes. Zeke didn’t deserve to be landed with a nutcase like her. He wouldn’t divorce her. He’d made his commitment and he would never go back on it—that was the sort of man he was. So it was up to her to end things and let him find happiness in the future with someone who was his equal—something she’d never felt from day one.

When his hand moved her face to look at him she was too late to blink away the tears. He surveyed her steadily, his black eyes velvet-soft, but the solid strength that had first attracted her was very evident. ‘It will be all right.’ His thumbs brushed away the telltale moisture. ‘Now you’re back with me everything will slot into place, you’ll see.’

She shook her head very slightly. ‘No, Zeke. It won’t.’