A Christmas Night to Remember(34)

Zeke was sprawled on one of the sofas, his long legs stretched out in front of him and a glass of brandy at his elbow. He looked broodingly tough and fascinatingly sexy, and Melody’s mouth went dry at the sight of him. His eyes opened as she walked into the room and he straightened slightly, indicating his drink with a wave of his hand. ‘Like one?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ve had more than enough today, thanks,’ she said, pleased her voice sounded so normal when her heart was pounding like a drum. ‘I haven’t had any alcohol for the last three months, don’t forget.’

‘I haven’t forgotten one second of the last three months, believe me. The time’s engraved on my memory for ever. Sheer hell.’

He had moved so she could join him on the sofa but she deliberately sat facing him on the opposite one, pretending an interest in the cathedral where the concert was being filmed as she tucked her feet under her legs, curling up and pulling the robe over her toes. ‘It’s very beautiful,’ she said quietly. ‘There’s a timeless quality to such places, isn’t there?’

‘Why have you shut me out so completely?’ His voice wasn’t accusing, in fact it was verging on conversational, and for a moment the words didn’t register. ‘I mean, I’d really like to know.’

‘Zeke, please don’t start this again. It’s no good.’

‘For such a soft, gentle creature you can be as hard as iron when you want to be,’ he said thoughtfully.

Stung, she met his gaze. ‘I’m not hard.’

‘Not with the rest of the world, no. Just with me. Why is that? What is it about me that makes you believe I don’t bleed when I’m cut? That I don’t feel like other people?’

She drew in a deep breath. ‘I know the last months have been hard for you too. I do know that. But that doesn’t make any difference to now.’

‘Do you blame me for the fact I wasn’t with you when it happened?’ he asked quietly. ‘That’s completely understandable. I hold myself responsible. I could have—should have—prevented it. I let you down and it’s unforgivable.’

Shocked beyond measure, she stared at him. ‘Of course I don’t blame you. How could I?’

‘Very easily,’ he said flatly, leaning forward so his hands were clasped between his knees, his dark gaze tight on her pale face. ‘We were supposed to meet for lunch that day. I would have been with you but for that problem that arose. If I hadn’t cancelled, put a damn business meeting before my wife—’

‘Stop it, Zeke,’ she whispered, horrified. ‘The accident was nothing to do with you. It was me. For a brief moment of time I didn’t think. It’s as simple as that. Probably countless thousands of people have momentary lapses of concentration every day. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time to have mine. But it wasn’t your fault.’

She had forgotten they’d been supposed to meet at a little bistro that day, before he had called and made his apologies; the trauma of the accident and the following days and nights of unconsciousness had wiped it from her mind. But even if she had remembered she would never have imagined he blamed himself for what had happened. Zeke was such a logical man—so rational and clear-headed. She couldn’t believe he had been condemning himself all this time. The fault had been hers and hers alone.

He stood restlessly to his feet, shaking his head. ‘I don’t see it that way but we won’t argue about it.’ His eyes held hers. ‘I’m not going to let you go, Dee. Not after nearly losing you three months ago.’

It was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life to look back at him and speak the painful truth. ‘You have no choice. It takes two to make a partnership and I can’t do it any more. I need…’ She paused, knowing her voice was shaking but unable to keep the tremours from showing. ‘I want a divorce, Zeke. Our lives are set to go down different paths now. Surely you see that as much as I do? We can’t go back to the way things were. It’s over.’

Two small words that cut like a knife through all the intimacy they had shared, the good times, the laughter, the joy and pleasure. She watched his face change, becoming set and rigid, as though he’d pulled a mask into place hiding any emotion. ‘And what I want and feel counts for nothing?’

Melody unconsciously gripped her hands together, struggling for composure. ‘I’m doing this for you as well as me—’