Stranger in My Arms(10)

“I don’t think that’s p-possible.”

“Why not?”

“Too much has happened, and I…” Lara paused, swallowing hard, and tears sprang to her eyes. She struggled to keep them back, while guilt and unhappiness welled inside her. Why did Hunter have to come back?

With one stroke of fate she had been sentenced once again to a life she had hated. She felt like a prisoner who had been set free, only to be closed behind bars again.

“I see.” Hunter’s hand fell away from her.

Strangely, he was looking at her as if he did understand, though he had never been remotely perceptive.

“It won’t be like before,” Hunter said. “You can’t help what you are,” Lara replied, a tear spilling down her cheek.

She heard Hunter’s swift intake of breath, and felt his fingers brush away the salty drop. Lara jerked away, but Hunter leaned forward to close the distance between them.

She was imprisoned in the chair, her head and neck wedged hard against the back Of it.

“Lara,” he whispered, “I would never hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, and added with a touch of defiance, “I just don’t want to be your wife again.”

The old Hunter would have been annoyed by the sign of rebellion, would have subdued her with a few cutting words. Instead he looked at her with a calm calculation that made her unbearably nervous. “I’ll see if I can change that. All I ask is that you give me a chance.”

Lara gripped the arms of the chair tightly. “I would prefer to lead separate lives, as we did before you went to India.”

“I can’t oblige you, sweet.” His reply was gentle, but she heard the finality in it. “You’re my wife. I intend to resume my place in your life… and in your bed.”

Lara blanched at that. “Why don’t you go to Lady Carlyle?” she said desperately. “She’ll be overjoyed at your return. She was the one you wanted, not me.”

Hunter’s expression became guarded. “She means nothing to me now.”

“You loved each other,” Lara said, wishing he would move away from her.

“It wasn’t love.”

“It was quite a convincing imitation!” “Wanting to bed a woman isn’t the same as loving her.”

“I know that,” Lara replied, forcing herself to look straight into his eyes. “You made it clear to me on many occasions.”

Hunter absorbed her statement without comment.

He rose to his feet in one smooth movement. As soon as she was freed, Lara sprang from the chair and went to the other side of the room, distancing herself from him as much as possible in the confines of the cottage.

Grimly Lara vowed to herself that she would never again welcome him into her bed. “I’ll try to accommodate you in every way possible,” she said, “except one. I can’t see any reason for us to be intimate with each other. Not only did I fail to please you, but I’m barren. It would be better for us both if you found someone else to satisfy your needs.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then you’ll have to take me by force,” she said, blanching as he approached her. It was impossible to read his expression. Was he angry? Was he contemptuous, or merely amused? His hands closed around her upper arms in a gentle but firm grip. Lara stared into his implacable face and felt all the old suffocating misery sweep over her.

“No,” he replied softly. “I won’t come to your bed until you’re ready.”

“That will be a long time. Forever.”

“Perhaps.” He paused and considered her thoughtfully. “Has there been another man in my absence?”

“No,” she said with a choked laugh, stunned he would think that was the reason she didn’t want him. “My God, I wanted nothing to do with men after you left!”

He smiled ironically at the unflattering comment.

“Good. I wouldn’t have blamed you for turning to another man-but I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you.” He rubbed the back of his neck in a weary gesture, and Lara’s attention was caught once more by the raised discolored line that betrayed a recently healed wound.

“Your head…” she murmured.

“The shipwreck,” he said warily. “There was a powerful gale. We were tossed about until the ship was driven against a reef. My head hit something, but I’ll be damned if I remember what it was. I couldn’t recall my own bloody name for weeks afterward.” He held still as she came closer.

Against her will, Lara experienced a great wave of sympathy. She couldn’t help it-she hated the thought of him in pain. “I’m sorry,” she said.

He grinned. “Sorry the wound wasn’t mortal, I suspect.”

Ignoring his mockery, she couldn’t resist touching the ridged scar.

Her fingers slid into his thick hair, exploring his scalp. The scar was a long one. The blow that had caused it must have nearly split his skull open. As she touched his head, she heard his breath catch.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, instantly removing her hand.

He shook his head with a short laugh. “I’m afraid you’re causing me another kind of pain.”

Perplexed, Lara stared into his eyes, and her gaze dropped to his lap.