Название: A Difficult Woman
Автор: Jeannie Watt
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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She was still facing the window, arguing with herself, when she heard Matt come back into the room. She didn’t turn around.
“Tara?”
“Matt. Go. Please.” She spoke in a fairly normal voice, if a little husky. She just didn’t know for how much longer she’d be able to hold on.
“Tara,” Matt replied in a tight voice, “I’m not going away.”
“Why?” she asked, abruptly swinging around. “Do you want to see me cry? Is that why you’re back? Do you want to see me cry, too?”
“What do you mean, ‘too’?” he asked quietly.
Tara stilled at his very logical question. “Oh, man.” The words came out as a whisper. She dropped her chin, but he reached out to tip it back up with his thumb and forefinger.
“What do you mean, ‘too’?” he repeated. “Did that guy want to make you cry?” he asked.
“He wants to see me crawl.”
“Why?”
She shook her head, afraid that if she spoke, her voice might break.
“Not ready to discuss it?”
She shook her head again, pressing her lips together, hoping he didn’t notice that her eyes were shiny.
Matt looked down at her and Tara stubbornly held her tears at bay until, with the air of a man acting against his better judgment, he reached out and gently put his arms around her and pulled her against the warmth of his solid chest. And, for reasons she didn’t quite understand, Tara let him do it. It had been a very long time since anyone had tried to comfort her and, dammit, it felt better than she imagined it would.
“It’s okay,” Matt whispered. She exhaled and leaned into the warmth of this man she barely knew. She let him hold her until Nicky drove into the yard few seconds later, unknowingly breaking the spell she had fallen under.
She frowned as she stepped back out of Matt’s loose embrace and he gave her a quizzical look.
“I don’t do this.”
“What don’t you do?” he asked softly.
“I don’t act like this,” she answered. “I never act like this.”
“You don’t let people comfort you?”
She shook her head.
To her surprise he smiled. “Hold still, Tara.”
“What?”
“Hold still.” He moved a step closer and once again he tipped her chin up. But this time he slowly and, oh so gently, kissed her and Tara felt her knees go weak.
“Hey, T.” Nicky burst into the house and Tara took a stumbling step backward just before her brother strode into the room.
“Looks like you’re making some headway,” Nicky said to his sister, oblivious to the stunned expression on her face. “Hey, Matt.” He went on into the kitchen, talking the entire way. He reappeared with a pitcher of orange juice and a glass. He filled the glass, drank it, filled it again.
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