A Christmas Night to Remember(22)

Now his mouth was hungry, demanding and wonderfully, achingly familiar as every nerve in her body sensitised. His grip tightened around her waist, his hips grinding against hers as he moved her against him. She arched in unconscious abandonment, unaware the folds of the robe had opened as her belt had loosened. And then she felt his warm hands on the bare flesh beneath the thin wispy bra she was wearing and she froze.

‘No.’ Her voice was high with panic as she jerked away, pulling the robe back in place and jerking the belt tight.

Zeke was breathing like a long-distance runner and he had to take a rasping breath before he could speak. ‘It’s all right.’ He wouldn’t let her escape him completely, drawing her back into his embrace with steel-like arms which allowed no protest. ‘We can take this as slow as you want.’

‘I don’t want it at all.’ Melody’s mouth was dry and she licked her lips and swallowed painfully. ‘We can’t—’

‘We can.’ He kissed her again—a mere brushing of her trembling mouth. ‘We’re man and wife, Dee, and you’ve just proved you want me every bit as much as I want you.’ It wasn’t arrogant or triumphant, just a simple statement of fact. ‘We are one and you can’t fight that.’

She shook her head dazedly, a hundred and one conflicting emotions tearing her apart. If they made love, if he saw her naked, he couldn’t fail to be repulsed. And she couldn’t bear that. She wanted him to remember her as she had been—to picture her in his mind as smooth-skinned, nubile, inviting. She was doing this for him as much as her. She was. He had married her when she was perfect. Why should he have to learn to adapt to anything less? She was finding it hard, but what would it do to a man like Zeke? No, this was the only way. It had to end now. Swiftly, cleanly, unhesitatingly—like the surgeon’s scalpel. She had to remain strong. She couldn’t weaken.

‘No, Zeke,’ she whispered. ‘We’re not man and wife any more. Not here, in my head.’

‘I don’t believe that.’ He still continued to hold her, but now the circle of his arms was relaxed. ‘Not for a minute, a second. So don’t waste your breath trying to convince me when all you’re really doing is lying to yourself, okay? Now, go and pamper yourself—have a long soak in the tub and cream and titivate and whatever else women do when they’re getting ready for a night on the town. I’m wining and dining you tonight, and I’ve got tickets for the theatre.’

Melody stared at him aghast. ‘I’m not going out.’

‘Of course you are. We’re not going to let a bit of snow beat us. This is London, not the arctic.’

‘I don’t mean that.’ And he knew it. ‘I’m staying here.’

‘Why?’ The ebony eyes challenged her. ‘Why is that?’

Melody fell back on one of the oldest excuses in the book—the one that came just after I’ve got a headache. ‘I’ve got nothing to wear,’ she said. It was true. Her suitcase contained the leggings and T-shirts and other comfy clothes she had worn in hospital once she was allowed her own things, but absolutely nothing suitable for the sort of evening Zeke had described. All her evening things were back at their house.

He grinned. ‘No problem.’ Releasing her, he walked over to the Christmas tree and she saw that at some point during the afternoon a host of beautifully wrapped parcels had appeared beneath it. ‘You can have a couple of your Christmas presents early,’ he said cheerfully, extracting two parcels from the pile. ‘I bought a size below your normal measurements, so hopefully they’ll fit. Try them on and see.’

Utterly taken aback, Melody stuttered, ‘When—? How—?’

Zeke paused as an array of emotions—wariness, delight, embarrassment—flitted across his features. ‘I did a little shopping when you were asleep,’ he admitted. ‘I’d left your Christmas presents at home. I thought—’ He shook his head. ‘Well, you know what I thought. I didn’t expect we’d be spending Christmas in a hotel in the city.’

‘Zeke, I can’t accept these.’ It seemed absolutely brazen to take anything from him in the circumstances. ‘You must see that.’

‘Why not?’ he said easily and without heat.

Melody wasn’t fooled. She’d seen the flash of granite in his eyes.

‘I just can’t,’ she murmured helplessly. ‘I haven’t got anything for you, for a start. It—it wouldn’t be right.’