Do Opposites Attract? (22 page)

He smiled finally, enveloping her tiny frame in his arms. ‘You can count on it.’

Brianna was delighted to receive an invitation to dinner from Catherine. It had been a while since they’d last caught up, though they’d spoken on the phone only last week. Catherine had done the phoning this time, obviously dying to tell her all about the visit she’d had from Mitch. Brianna had listened avidly, her heart desperate for news about him. She’d learnt he’d been given the all-clear regarding his rehabilitation and he would be allowed back to work in another week.

She knocked on Catherine’s door, really looking forward to the evening. Despite their difference in age, the older lady was a good companion, very easy to talk to. She was also someone she could open her heart to about Mitch, someone who loved him as she did.

The moment Catherine opened the door Brianna could see she wasn’t her usual self. She seemed flustered and wouldn’t even look her in the eye. ‘Catherine, how nice to see you.’ Brianna kissed the other woman’s cheeks. ‘Is everything all right? You look like you’re hiding something.’

‘I think perhaps she is.’

Brianna’s face snapped round at the sound of that deep voice. ‘Mitch,’ she almost squawked in shock. ‘What a surprise to see you here.’

‘And vice versa,’ Mitch replied dryly, looking over at Catherine with suspicious eyes. ‘What are you playing at, Catherine?’

‘Oh, silly me,’ Catherine replied, ushering her two guests into the sitting room. ‘As you get older, your memory goes.’ She nudged Mitch. ‘You should know that, being a doctor. I must have forgotten to tell you I thought it would be a nice idea to have you both round for dinner. My way of thanking Brianna for getting us back together.’

Catherine breezed off to organise the drinks, leaving Mitch and Brianna alone, standing awkwardly together. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise—’ she began to say.

‘How are you—’ Mitch started to speak at the same time. He stopped and gestured for Brianna to continue.

She smoothed down the non-existent creases on her suede skirt. ‘I was just going to say I didn’t know Catherine had invited you too. If I’d known—’

‘You wouldn’t have come?’ he supplied.

She blushed and looked away. Why did she have to feel so uncomfortable in his presence? So acutely aware of him and how fit and healthy he looked. With his face tanned once more and his body relieved of all outward signs of his injuries, he looked, frankly, gorgeous. ‘Of course I would still have come, if you’d wanted me to,’ she replied stiffly. ‘I just don’t want to interrupt anything. I’m an outsider, after all.’

Mitch shook his head. ‘You stopped being an outsider the moment you entered our lives.’

‘Interfered in them, don’t you mean?’

He gave her a small, slightly awkward smile. ‘Yes.’

‘Here you go, my dears. A glass of sherry.’ Catherine walked back into the room, seemingly oblivious to the discomfort of her guests. ‘I know it’s probably an old lady’s drink, but you have to humour me.’ She raised her glass and looked at them both. ‘A toast. To Brianna, to whom I will always be grateful. And to Mitch, my surrogate son, who has finally made it home.’

They ate together in the large dining room and Brianna’s discomfort began to ease as Catherine and Mitch traded humorous anecdotes from their time together. When Catherine divulged how stubborn Mitch had been as a teenager, Brianna laughingly joined in, adding her own tales of how Mitch tried to cope on his own despite his broken limbs.

‘Oh, he’s stubborn all right,’ Catherine agreed, speaking to Brianna. ‘Take now. He’s managed to convince himself he’s not good enough for you. It doesn’t matter what I say to him, he won’t change his mind.’

Confused, Brianna stared at Catherine. ‘What do you mean, not good enough for me?’

‘Exactly what I say. The man’s crazy about you, but for some reason he’s got it into his head that because he came from a poor background, he doesn’t deserve somebody like yourself. Of course, I told him you won’t care where he came from, but he won’t listen. Tell me, Brianna, does it matter to you where a man was brought up? How much money he has?’

Brianna’s shocked brain was having trouble dissecting the conversation. Had Catherine really just said Mitch was crazy about her? She stole a glance at him, but his shuttered, angry face didn’t help. ‘I’m sorry, Catherine. I’m not sure what’s going on here. But for the record, of course I don’t care about a man’s wealth, or his background. Mitch knows that. It’s what he is now that matters, not what he was.’

Catherine nodded triumphantly. ‘There you go, Mitch. Just what I told you.’ She stood and walked towards the door. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and lie down for a while. One of the privileges of being old. I’m sure you both have a lot to talk about.’

With that Catherine swept out of the room, leaving Mitch and Brianna alone. Silence echoed and her thumping heart sounded like gunfire in her ears. Mitch made no move to speak. Of course he didn’t. He simply crossed his arms, his face like thunder. The only thing Brianna could think to say, the only thing she was interested in, was whether what Catherine had said was true. Glancing at the rigid set of Mitch’s face, she found herself unable to ask. He looked as blindsided as she was. Stiffly, she rose from the table.

‘I think its best I go now. It’s been,’ she shook her head and sighed, ‘an interesting meal.’

Still he didn’t speak. Not until she’d reached the door.

‘Brianna.’

She stopped in her tracks. ‘Yes?’

‘I think we need to talk.’ He spoke the words quietly and without looking at her.

‘You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I know Catherine’s rather pushed you into this situation.’

‘That’s putting it mildly. I feel as though I’ve been flattened by a bulldozer.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘But now the words are out there, we can’t just ignore them, much as I might like to.’ He stood up from his chair. ‘Let’s go and sit somewhere more comfortable.’

Nodding her agreement, she walked back with him to the sitting room. Brianna perched on the sofa, but Mitch chose not to sit. He prowled the room like a cornered tiger.

‘What Catherine told you, about my feelings for you. It’s true.’

Brianna let the words slowly sink into her bemused brain. ‘You’re crazy about me? Crazy good or crazy bad?’

He stopped his movement and gave her a brief smile. ‘At times you do drive me crazy, but that’s not what I mean.’ Sighing deeply, he carried on. ‘Brianna, I told you once I don’t know what love means. Well, I think I’ve started to find out.’

The words sparked off explosions of delight in her head. It was as if all her Christmases had come at once. But as she moved to throw her arms round him, she caught sight of the expression on his face. It wasn’t that of a man happily in love. Instead he looked almost defeated.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ He’d finally said the words she’d been longing to hear, but he was holding something else back. ‘If you’re worried I might not still feel the same, you shouldn’t be.’ She could no longer stand to see his tortured expression. Flinging herself at him she buried her head against the hard wall of his chest. ‘I love you, Mitch. I love you so much.’

‘No.’ The words tore out of Mitch as he flung his arms at Brianna’s shoulders, holding her off. But then he looked into her eyes. They blazed with such love. Love for him. The realisation was so incredible for a selfish moment he wanted to pretend it was all that mattered.

With a groan he pulled her against him and gave in to the desire to kiss her. A desire that had pulsed through him since he’d first caught sight of her standing on the doorstep. As always, she gave herself to him completely, opening her mouth wider, pushing her body up against his. He was drowning in her, in the taste, the smell, the feel of her. But he couldn’t accept what she was offering. He had things he needed to say. Truths she needed to hear.

Breathing hard, he gently eased her away. ‘Brianna, I need to talk to you. I need to tell you about my childhood.’

‘Okay,’ she replied huskily, withdrawing slowly but still with her arms wrapped around his waist. ‘But I don’t think Catherine would mind too much if she came back and found us canoodling on the floor.’

‘Canoodling?’

‘Necking, snogging.’ Her voice softened. ‘Making love.’

‘Don’t tempt me.’ Needing to distance himself, he took a deliberate step back and tried to gather his thoughts.

Wordlessly, Brianna sat back on the sofa.

This was it.
As tension gripped him, weighing down his shoulders, he cleared his throat. ‘Brianna, you know I never knew my father and that my mother died when I was fourteen. What you don’t know is that my mother was a prostitute. My father was one of her clients, though she never knew which one.’

‘Oh my God.’ Brianna sank back against the sofa.

‘My real name is spelt Mich,’ he carried on, grimly determined, not daring to look at her. ‘It’s short for the tyre company, Michelin. A little joke from my mother, as I was a constant reminder to her of the importance of using rubbers. I changed the damn thing as soon as I was old enough.’ Finally he looked at her, and what he saw made his voice falter. ‘So … well, now you can see why I never really spoke about my childhood.’ God, she looked shell-shocked. Maybe he could live with that, but then there was the expression in her eyes. They were filled with a disgust that left him reeling. He’d expected it – what woman wants to know she’s slept with the son of a whore? – but still it hurt. So damn much.

‘Was she a good mother?’

Her question caught him by surprise. At least she was still willing to talk to him. ‘It depends what you mean by good. My friends thought she was great. I could go out as late as I wanted. I didn’t need to let her know where I was, or who I was with. She didn’t shout when I had poor marks at school, or when I was caught by the police for stealing or joyriding.’ Oh boy, the bitterness wouldn’t stop flowing out of him. ‘Frankly, she didn’t care. All she was bothered about was when her next client was due and when she could get her next fix.’ He forced himself to look Brianna in the eye. ‘She was an addict, too. Started off small time, but ended up on the hard stuff.’

‘Is that what killed her?’

‘Yes,’ he replied shortly. ‘I came back from school one day and found her lying on the bed next to a syringe. I could tell straight away she was dead. I called 999 and was waiting with her when I suddenly realised if I hung around, I’d be taken into care. I’d heard rumours of what that was like, and there was no way it was happening to me. So I took what money I could find and scarpered.’

‘And that’s how you came to be squatting in Catherine’s house,’ Brianna murmured.

He shrugged, trying to give the appearance it didn’t bother him much now. He didn’t think he was deceiving either of them. ‘I tried living on the streets at first, but it was cold and uncomfortable. That’s when I started wandering round the roads further afield. The ones with the fancy houses. A lot of them looked like they weren’t lived in. I watched Catherine’s house for a week, didn’t see anybody enter or leave, so I decided to make it my temporary home.’

‘You broke in?’

‘Yes. It wasn’t the first time I’d done that, either.’ He spoke harshly, full of self-loathing. ‘You’ve seen my tattoo?’ Brianna simply nodded. ‘I was a member of the Panthers. We were a group of teenage kids who liked to think we were hard. We stole cars, broke into houses.’ He turned away, too ashamed to look at her, too disgusted at the boy he’d been. He could tell himself he’d managed to straighten himself out. He could hope he’d done enough good since that it had counterbalanced some of the bad. What he couldn’t do anymore was hide away from what he had once been. ‘I think you’ve heard the rest, from Catherine. So, there you have it, my full life history.’

Brianna felt the tears on her cheeks and knew she’d been crying for a while. As he stood, shoulders rigid, staring out of the window, she realised she finally understood him. No wonder he fought so hard not to let others get too close. He’d practically been abandoned as a child; had never experienced a parent’s unconditional love. Something she had always taken for granted. So he’d coped by telling himself he didn’t need anybody.

She walked over and put her arms around his shoulders, pressing her face into his back. ‘Mitch, I’m so glad you’ve told me all of this. It helps me to understand you. But you have to know, none of it matters.’

‘Well it should,’ he returned bluntly, still with his back to her.

‘How can it when it’s helped make you the man you are today? I don’t just love your compassion and sexy body, you know. I also love your strength and complexity.’ She moved round to face him, forcing him to look at her. ‘When I think what you had to live through—’

‘It disgusts you.’

‘It horrifies me,’ she corrected him. ‘It makes me want to cry. But don’t you see, it’s made you into the very special man you are now.’

‘No,’ he snarled, pushing her away. ‘Haven’t you been listening? My mother was a hooker, and a drug addict. I grew up amongst pimps and crooks. I’ve stolen cars and burgled houses. Good God woman, I’m far from special.’

‘Well, you are to me.’

He shook his head. ‘Don’t say that. Look at me, Brianna. What can I offer somebody like you?’

‘Yourself,’ she replied quietly. ‘It’s all I want.’ When he didn’t respond, she cursed. She’d tried sympathy and got nowhere. Perhaps it was time to play hardball. ‘Is that what it’s going to be like then, Mitch? Feeling sorry for yourself for the rest of your life? Forever pushing away the people who love you, because you can’t deal with who you are, and where you came from?’ She bent to pick up her handbag. ‘Maybe I got you wrong. Maybe you’re not the man I had you down for, after all. That man had this unbelievable inner strength. A real sense of his own worth.’ She was aware of him quietly following her as she walked to the door. ‘When you go to sleep tonight, alone, remember this. You could have been with me. I love you. I don’t care about any of the other stuff. You shouldn’t, either. Rich or poor, upper class or working class, childhood angel or teenage rebel, it’s all totally irrelevant when you love somebody.’

Her legs trembling, she dashed out of the house and into her car.