Shattered Mirror (Eve Duncan #23)(16)

“Oh, I am the complete package.” Her tone was flip again. “Just throw in a dash of vulnerability and a tiny scoop of annoying persistence along with it.” She paused. “So we’re okay?”

“We’re okay.” Cara was still bewildered. “But we might need to talk again.”

“We can do that.” She turned over on her side. “I’ll just be more careful next time…”

*

Darkness.

Only the lights of the street below filtered in from behind the drapes to fall on the two beds in the bedroom. Darcy had fallen asleep a couple hours ago, Cara knew. But she was still lying here staring into the darkness, wide-awake.

“You don’t talk about him to me,” Darcy had said.

And that had been the beginning, Cara thought.

But it was how it had ended that had left her stunned and confused.

Not then, but now?

I thought I did understand about sex.

I just thought I was seeing the signs …

The signs that Cara wanted to have sex with Jock who had been the center of her existence for all these years? To be one of those women who went to his bed and had him inside her in that most intimate way possible?

Her body was heating, tingling, at the thought, she realized, robbing her of breath as the tension started as she imagined his hands—

Wrong. All wrong. He was her best friend. That was her place in his life. She had value to him in that role. She was not one of the women who passed in and out of his existence, then faded away.

The mere idea of that happening filled her with panic. She wouldn’t be able to bear that isolation from him. They were so close, so … complete … together. She couldn’t let this crazy physical response destroy it. That’s not what he wanted from her. She wasn’t one of the dazzling 2 percent like Darcy. Hell, she was only eighteen and still a damn virgin. No competition. She had no desire to be competition. She wanted him to be her friend.

Not then, but now?

Dear God, she was lying to herself. Yes, she wanted what they had together now. But her body wanted something entirely different.

And how long had she been lying to herself? There was no telling. Probably as her body had matured and changed through the years, so had the need for sexual intimacy with him. But she had known what a terrible threat that could be for their relationship, so she had buried it, smothered it, never let it come to the surface.

Which is what she had to do again, she thought desperately. She had to keep what she had with Jock or he would eventually leave her, and she would be alone again.

She could do this. Evidently, she had buried that sexual response even from herself. It was only Darcy’s probing that had brought it to the surface. When she next saw Jock, she would see that she was back to normal. Maybe, in time, it would go away entirely.

But it was not going to be easy. It would be better if she didn’t lie here thinking about Jock or any of this sex business. She would get a glass of water and go over and sit on the window seat and watch the traffic on the street below. She always found the sound of traffic strangely soothing.

She needed soothing.

She tossed her blanket aside and headed for the bathroom.

She was acutely aware of the softness of the carpet under her bare feet as she crossed the room and the feel of her nightshirt rubbing against her bare breasts as she breathed in and out.

Heat. Throbbing. A clenching that she had never—

Stop it. Ignore it.

It was only that she had just discovered what was happening to her that made it so difficult to dismiss …

*

Darcy screamed!

Cara jerked upright on the window seat, her gaze flying to Darcy’s bed across the room.

She was tossing and turning, eyes closed, tears running down her cheeks.

Nightmare.

Cara had told Eve that it would be an intrusion to let Darcy know that she was aware of those terrible dreams that seemed to come so often.

But Darcy had never screamed like that before. And it could be that Darcy had been as disturbed as Cara before she had gone to sleep, and that had sent her spiraling down. Who knows what caused the phantoms of the mind to attack?

To hell with not intruding.

No one knew better than Cara how painful it was to face those phantoms alone. She was on her feet and across the room in a heartbeat. “Wake up, Darcy.” She was on the bed, gathering her close and rocking her back and forth. “It’s all over. It’s gone. It’s fine. Wake up now.”

Darcy was pushing her away. “It’s not fine.” The tears were still pouring down her cheeks. “It will never be fine again.” She was sobbing. “Not here. Empty. Always be empty…”

Cara took her shoulders and shook her. “Open your eyes, Darcy. Do you hear me? Wake up!”

Darcy slowly opened her eyes. “I hear you.” Her voice was slurred. Then she shook her head to clear it. “How could I help it? You’re almost shouting. What’s wrong with you anyway?”

“Not a thing,” she said, relieved. She sat up and swung her legs to the floor. “But there was something that was wrong with you. You just had a bad dream. But it’s over now.” She got to her feet. “I’ll get you a glass of water. Why don’t you grab a tissue and wipe your face? I’ll be right back.”

She went to the bathroom and stood there, letting the water run for a few minutes. It wouldn’t hurt to give Darcy a little time to regain her composure before she had to face someone who had seen how vulnerable she could be. Then she filled the glass and took the water out to her.