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up. She was probably going to throw a fit.
As Callie came to his side, Jack was staring up at the stars with a thoughtful expression,
his good arm cradling his broken one in spite of the sling around his neck.
She reached out and put her hand gently on his shoulder. She needed to touch him and
not through his clothes. She had to know the warmth of his skin, to have his body against hers, to
feel that he was all right, not just assume it from afar.
"Thank you," he murmured softly. "For picking me up."
"Good Lord, of course."
He started for the house and she followed, measuring the way he favored his right foot
and the rigid way he held himself. As she opened the door for him, she thought he looked visibly
relieved to be home.
"Do you want anything to eat?" she asked.
"Can you bring me something upstairs? I want to change and lie down."
When she came up to his bedroom, the confident, elegant man she knew was standing by
his bed, completely tangled up in his clothes. The sling was hanging cockeyed from his shoulder,
his shirt stuck around his neck, and his belt was half undone.
"You need some help?" She put down the plate and glass, swallowing a smile.
One eye glared out of the mess. "Yes. Please."
She quickly freed the buttons, stripped off the shirt, and removed the sling.
She held her breath as she eyed a bruise on his collarbone.
"That must have hurt." She put her hand out and touched him, running her fingers gently
around the red mark.
When he didn't say anything, she looked up. His eyes were closed and his face was
showing intense concentration as if he were drinking in her touch.
Jack's voice was rough. "When the car stopped spinning around, I was so damn dizzy and
bashed up, I couldn't tell what kind of shape I was in."
She winced, trying not to imagine his broken body being pulled out of the car by
paramedic.
His eyes opened slowly. "The first thing I thought of was you. The idea of not seeing you
again was ... unbearable."
Callie reached up to his face, feeling the rasp of his beard growth, the hollow above his
jawline, the pulse that beat at his throat.
When she dropped her hand, he took it and put it back.
"Touch me," he said. "You make the numbness go away."
She let her hand move down over his shoulder and onto his biceps. Lightly tracing his
pecs, she paused on his beating heart and went down on to the ridges of his stomach. She could
felt his body tighten under her fingertips and heard his breath as it rushed out of him. When she
brushed the back of her knuckles across his belly button, he hissed, taking his lower lip between
his sharp teeth.
She paused, worried that she was hurting him.
"Don't stop," he said thickly. His eyes were wild, on the edge of violence. "Christ, please
don't stop."
She reached for his belt buckle, feeling supple leather as she finished undoing it. His
pants hit the floor in a rush and she looked up. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out across his
chest.
Jack grabbed her with his good arm, crushing her to him, burying his head in her hair.
Feeling the solid wall of his chest, hearing the beat of his heart, she shuddered and opened her
mouth.
Knowing that she was taking the biggest risk of her life, that it was too early, that it was
not the right time, that maybe she was just speaking out of passion and relief, she whispered, "I
love you."
Jack fell still and she immediately wished she could take the words back.
What was she thinking? Sure, he cared for her. Yes, he had passion for her. But love?
Callie stepped back, trying to cover up what she'd said, but his eyes pegged her with an
intensity she'd never seen in them before.
He brought her back against him. "I can't believe it, I didn't think it would ever happen.
But... I love you, too."
He pulled her close and she felt like crying. It was more than the blessing that he was
home safely. That he felt the same way she did. That his words were not a promise, but a
statement of fact. No, the feeling came from a sense that maybe the world wasn't quite the hard,
cold place she'd always known it to be.
After so many years of being alone, she had someone of her own.
Chapter 18
The following evening, Jack let Gray Bennett into the front hall. His Mend was obviously
not happy.
"Where the hell have you been? You don't return my calk Christ, what happened to
you?"
"Car accident" He ushered Gray down to the study, closing the door behind them.
As Jack slowly lowered himself into his chair, he was more than ready to be able to move
freely again. The bruises would fade soon enough, but the godforsaken arm was going to be a
pain in the ass for the next month and a half.
"Jesus." Gray stared at him for a minute and then shrugged out of his coat. He tossed it
over to the couch. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just banged up."
"Well, I'm glad you didn't get hurt worse. But you still should have called me back. What
we're doing has taken on a life of its own and it's in your best interest to be up-to-date."
"I know." But falling in love had a way of making a man think of things other than
politics. "Now sit down and tell me what I need to know."
Gray settled into a club chair and crossed his legs. His foot started tapping.
"There something I need to worry about?" Jack asked evenly.
"I just got a call from New York and I had to track you down in person. There's a rumor
going around that you and Blair have called off the engagement. You want to tell me what's
going on? "
The phone at Jack's elbow started to ring and he silenced it with the flick of a switch.
"We have ended it. I did, actually. I made a terrible mistake, and like most lapses in judgment, I
didn't figure it out until someone got hurt. I regret what happened, but getting out is absolutely
the right decision."
Gray's foot stilled. "I'm your friend first, so I've got to ask, how're you doing?"
"I'm fine. Except for feeling like shit for what I put Blair through."
"Well, I'm sorry it didn't work out. She's a fine woman." There was a pause. "Now I'm
also your political consultant, so I need to talk some shop."
"Shoot."
Jack tugged at the sling and repositioned the broken arm across his chest, trying to ease
the strain in his shoulder. A meeting with Gray was overdue and he was prepared to spend an
hour or two with his friend if that was what it took. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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