The Secret Baby Bond. Cindy Gerard
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Название: The Secret Baby Bond
Автор: Cindy Gerard
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Desire
isbn: 9781472038203
isbn:
She sat up straight in bed, wrenched out of sleep by her own cries. Her breath slogged out in serrated gasps. She looked wildly around the room.
It was not the apartment she had shared with Michael.
It was her room in Lake Shore Manor.
Where she’d slept. Alone. For two long years.
A dream.
It had only been a dream.
She collapsed to her back on the bed, threw an arm over her forehead and willed her heart to settle, her breath to steady. And then she lay there in the dark of night, in a silence disrupted only by her ragged breaths. Aching for him. Burning for him.
Michael wasn’t a dream. He was alive. She’d seen him tonight, talked to him, touched him. And right now she wanted him so badly she hurt.
She missed lying with him in his bed. Missed the length of him, the strength of him, the heat of his mouth, the stroke of his hands.
She didn’t have to miss him anymore.
Staring hopelessly at the ceiling, she trembled with the need to call him, to ask him to come to her. To make love to her.
The ache intensified to pain.
It would be so easy.
And so wrong.
The tears came then. Tears of relief that he lived. Tears of grief that she hadn’t let herself shed since the day, two years ago, when the news had arrived with its ghastly presumption of death. Tears for all they’d had, for all they’d lost.
Michael was alive and she was so glad. And yet the one thing he wanted couldn’t happen.
He’d made it clear. He was determined to pick up where they’d left off. She dragged her hands through her hair, drawing on her resolve. That couldn’t happen. She could not resume her life with him. She couldn’t go through the pain of loving him again. Loving Michael hurt too much. Loving Michael had always hurt too much.
She closed her eyes, rolled to her side and hugged her arms to her breasts. And then she hid in the night and clung to the one absolute that overshadowed his miraculous reappearance.
On this point she could not waiver. For reasons that only she could understand, she was going through with the divorce. She had to. She had to because she knew what no one else did: She was a fake. A fraud.
The image the media and even her family held of Tara Connelly as a headstrong, independent, gutsy and self-assured woman was a lie. A complete sham.
The real Tara Connelly was a wimp. She wasn’t strong enough to do much more than drift through life with her emotions tightly under wraps. She wasn’t equipped to do much more than heed her survival instincts that warned her to stay under the radar, to exist with as little involvement as possible. Which meant she wasn’t capable of surviving another attempt at loving Michael Paige.
And as she lay in the dark, fighting the want, denying the need, she was ashamed of the knowledge that the real Tara Connelly was too afraid to even try.
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