A Christmas Night to Remember(27)
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.’
She made a small ineffectual sound in her throat, pulling her hand away as she stepped back a pace.
‘So defensive.’ The words were almost a sigh, and for a moment she thought she detected sudden pain in his dark eyes before he blinked and it cleared.
‘I thought we were leaving?’ She spoke flatly, carefully keeping her facial expression calm. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down. Not for a moment.
‘We are.’ But he didn’t move.
Melody stared at him warily, swallowing against the tightness in her throat. There had always been something uncivilised about Zeke, and tonight it was in every movement and expression—a sensuousness that was almost animal-like in its instinctive earthiness and male power.
And then he smiled, opening the door. ‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT had stopped snowing when they left the hot-house comfort of the hotel, stepping into a frozen winter wonderland that had transformed the city streets into something magical.
The gritters had been hard at work keeping the main roads serviceable, and the hotel staff had had the foresight to clear a path from the hotel door to the main thoroughfare. Nevertheless, Melody was glad of Zeke’s firm hand at her elbow as they hailed a taxi.
The snow hadn’t seemed to deter the last-minute shoppers making use of some of the big stores which were still open. The white pavements were alive with folk heaped with bags and parcels, and an unusual air of gaiety pervaded the scene. It was as though a white Christmas had evoked the excitement of a child in even the most hardened city-dwellers, and for a little while the wonder of the festive season had swept away everyday problems and difficulties. Everyone seemed happy.
Zeke settled her close to him in the taxi, his arm round her shoulders, and she didn’t pull away although his touch made her as tense as a coiled spring. It was strange being out in the hustle and bustle of life again after her long stint in the hospital, but it wasn’t that which tightened her nerves, although he must have thought so because he murmured, ‘Relax. We’re doing this together, okay? I’m here. I’ve got you. This is going to be a pleasant evening, that’s all.’