Instant Family (27 page)

"You'll be all right," Katy whispered. "We'll take care of you."
Chloe rested her cheek on Katy's head. Furry, warm Simba rubbed
against her ankles.

"He's coming," Seb announced. "He'll drive you to the doctor"

Alex, rushing for the second time to assist an injured Gardiner,
wasn't prepared for the sight of the pale-faced, tear-sodden woman
sitting on the couch with Katy cuddled beside her and the cat sitting
at her feet. Julian and Seb hovered anxiously, both looking to him
for guidance. Resilient though they all were, when Chloe collapsed,
they floundered. She was their rock. He'd expected her to be injured
and incapable of driving but not in this state of collapse. He'd readied himself for a chilled acceptance of his chauffeuring.

He swallowed his fear, steadied his voice, composed his expression, but she barely glanced at him as he knelt before her and
carefully unwrapped the blood-soaked tea towel she clutched in
her hand.

"Get ice and a clean towel," he said. "A packet of frozen peas will
do." Julian darted away.

Her hand lay lifeless in his. He examined the wound as well as
he could. The bleeding had slowed, but the unwrapping movement
started the rush again. She'd chopped down half the length of her index finger, slicing deeply through the flesh to carve a strip away from
the bone. Sickening. He winced. Looked as if it needed stitches.
He took the clean tea towel from Julian, swiftly rewrapped the hand
with the ice pack, and stood up.

"Come on. We're going to the doctor."

"All of us?" asked Katy.

"If you'd like. But we'd better go now."

"Lock the house," said Seb. Julian and Katy dashed away. Seb
collected keys from a dish on the kitchen counter.

Alex helped Chloe to her feet. He supported her stiff body with
an arm around her waist as they headed for the front door. She
hadn't spoken a word. There was more going on here than a cut finger, shocking as that might be. Chloe was deeply upset. Shattered.
He'd never seen her so distressed and compliant.

"Chloe, it's just a cut," he said. "The doctor will probably stitch it,
and you'll be as good as new."

She turned her head then, but the eyes that gazed at him were dull.
"You don't understand." The words emerged hoarse and uneven
with an undercurrent of bitter resignation. "You never do. It's my
finger-I can't play. If nerves are damaged, I may never play properly again."

That aspect had never entered his head. She sounded so melodramatic. In reality, she was terrified. Alex's fingers tightened around
her waist. He brushed his lips across her cold cheek. "You'll be fine,
sweetheart. Don't think that way."

She turned her head away without a word. Seb flung the front
door open. "Ready?"

"Yep." Would she be all right? What if nerves had been severed?
Or a tendon? Reduced finger flexibility would be disastrous for a
musician wanting to make a career as a performer. He'd heard her
play. She was very, very good.

Some of the chill from her fear seeped into his own belly.

Chloe sagged into the couch. The painkillers the doctor had given
her made her sleepy, or maybe it was the aftermath of shock giving her this warm, indolent feeling. But her hand didn't hurt quite so
much. She stared at the white bandage neatly covering the injury.
No visible blood. So much had poured from the wound....

"Hurting?" asked Alex softly from the armchair opposite.

She raised her eyes to discover those blue, blue eyes watching her
closely. So reassuring and right to look up and see him there. Much
of the comfort and warmth radiated from him, from his presence in
the house. From his soul to hers.

"A bit." Chloe picked up her cup of hot cocoa. The sweet liquid
scalded its way down her throat. She hastily put it down. Hot chocolate wasn't a favorite, but Alex had suggested it as a soothing prebed drink. He'd been amazingly supportive. He'd taken control the
instant he walked through the door. Fortunately. The kids didn't know
what to do and she... Hopeless. What a sight they must have been.
So much for her protestations about being in charge of things.

"I'm sorry I was in such a mess earlier."

"You were in mild shock, the doctor said."

Chloe grimaced. "I've never felt like that before-it was weird. My
brain wouldn't work. And all that blood." She shuddered. "It reminds
me of-you know. Bali."

He nodded. "You've had a lot to cope with lately."

"I suppose so. But I always managed before" She glanced up defiantly.

"But it wasn't you who was injured before," he said gently.

"No." She closed her eyes briefly. "Missed the tendon by millimeters, he said."

"I know. You were lucky." He smiled. "Well-sort of."

She returned the smile, lingering, with her eyes exploring his
face. Such a strong jawline, straight nose. So comfortable here together, just the two of them. The kids had absented themselves pretty
smartly after they'd eaten. Curiously so, considering how much they
liked Alex. "Thanks for cooking dinner."

A only helped Katy finish what you'd started. She told me what
to do. She's terrific."

"Yes, she is."

She gazed across at him, dreaming, imagining. Silly things, the
product of a doped-up mind. What if he was always here like this?
He lounged in the chair, quite at home with his tie loosened and top button undone. He'd thrown his jacket across the back of one of the
dining room chairs. She frowned as small details registered for the
first time. A tie? Alex never wore ties, not that she'd seen anyway. A
quick glance at the jacket and back to his pants confirmed the fact
that he was wearing a suit.

"You're all dressed up," she said, blinking to throw off the drowsiness and the love-induced stupor. "Were you going out?"

He nodded.

She sat up straight. "Where?"

"A dinner." He didn't move.

"Friends?"

"The Housing Industry Awards dinner."

"Why didn't you say so?" Chloe demanded, horrified. "You can
still go. It's only nine-thirty."

He didn't move a muscle. "I'd rather stay here."

"But what if you've won?"

"They'll call me."

Chloe sat staring. Dumbfounded. "You came here instead?"

Alex drew in his feet and stood up.

He hadn't asked her to the dinner. She couldn't blame him. But
her mouth drooped in dismay.

The daydream sweetness lingered in her mind. He fit here in the
living room, in her house. He fit in that empty hole in the center of
her heart. She wanted him to stay.

He stared down at her. She met his gaze briefly and looked away.
Picked up her cocoa. Could he tell how much she wanted him to
stay? Could he tell and was thinking of a polite way of saying he
wanted to leave? If she'd killed his love for her with her harshness,
she had to make it easy for him. Don't cling. Not now, when they'd
reestablished a comfortable, friendly relationship.

She stretched her lips into a smile. "Going to collect your award?"

"Would you rather I did?"

"No." She stopped, unsure of herself, unsure of him. She replaced
the cocoa mug on its coaster.

He stepped around the coffee table and sat on the couch beside
her. Close. Could he hear the thumping of her heart? His thigh was
warm against hers. His shoulder rubbed hers, but he lifted his arm and slid it around her, drawing her body against his. A sigh escaped.
She fit perfectly there in his embrace. He smelled so good.

"Was that a happy sigh?" he murmured, turning his head to study
her face.

"Yes." His lips were so close, he could bend his head a mere fraction and kiss her. He didn't.

"You gave me the fright of my life," he said.

"Did I?"

"When Seb called and said you were hurt, all I could think was
that I had to be with you."

"I'm glad he called you," she whispered.

He shifted slightly to study her face intently. "Are you still angry
with me?"

She smiled and snuggled closer. "Do I look angry?"

"No. But you were right. I should have called you the day Seb was
hurt and not listened to the boys. I could have persuaded you to go
to your gig and looked after Seb as well."

"I overreacted. I'm so used to being the one in control, the one
they turn to when they're in trouble."

"It's a big responsibility, caring for three children. You've done an
amazing job."

"When our parents died, there wasn't anyone else. Simone
couldn't cope. The alternative was foster care. We wanted to stay together. It was up to me to keep us together." She only realized she'd
clenched her uninjured right hand into a fist when Alex placed his
hand over hers and gently opened the tensed fingers.

"You don't have to do it on your own anymore, Chloe," he said.

Alex felt her give a little start of surprise. He squeezed her softly
and interlaced his fingers through hers. He had to choose his words
so carefully. Anything might set her off, any hint that he thought
she wasn't coping and that he could do better. Any inference that he
wanted to take over the family, her responsibilities. He stared into
her eyes. His mind went blank. There was really only one thing to
say when she gazed at him with such an expression, when her lovely
face was so close, the merest fraction of movement would close the
gap between their mouths. "I love you."

She moved that mere fraction and met his lips, soft and sweet. Too long between kisses. Her kiss didn't lie-she didn't need to say
it. He could tell. She loved him right back. The disappointment of
her anger, the hurt of her words, his own anger at her distrust, the misery of her dismissal of him from her life, the pain of not knowingall melted in the heat of the passion in her lips.

An age later she pulled away. He pulled her back for more, and
she came willingly. Much later she said, "What were you going to
say? Do what on my own?"

"Raise the children." He nibbled at her throat, reveling in the softness of her skin, feeling the pulse of her blood, her heart, under
his lips.

"I can do it on my own."

"I know, but you don't have to-I want to help." He raised his
head to look into her eyes and better emphasize his words.

"You already do," she said.

He shook his head in frustration. She wasn't listening properly,
wasn't understanding, wasn't reading between the lines. His love for
her was boundless and overflowing, and she had no idea of its depth.
"No, that's not what I mean. I want to be part of the family. Properly. I want to marry you," he blurted. "Will you? Marry me?"

Chloe's eyes opened wide in astonishment. Not the reaction he'd
desired but probably what he should have expected. He hadn't intended to propose. Not yet. He'd surprised himself as much as her.
His heart sank as he saw the doubt cloud her expression. She didn't
think he meant it. He had no doubt he meant it, but the timing was
off. Too late now-he'd played his hand. She had to understand how
sincere he was.

"I love you," he repeated. "And I would like nothing more than to
spend the rest of my life with you and have our own babies. Our
very own family."

"You've already been married," she said. "You already have a
daughter."

"Yes. But that's got nothing to do with how I feel about you. I
know what love is now, since I met you. What Lucy and I had was a
pale imitation. I love you, and I will always love you." He gripped her
hand tightly.

"But I don't want babies," she cried. "I've never thought about
getting married. I want my life back"

"Can't I be in it?" She was slipping away, and he had to hold on
like a desperate drowning man to a life raft.

"You already are."

"Not as much as I'd like. I want to be your husband. I want to be
with you for the rest of our lives."

The expression on her face was near to panic. "I'm sorry." She
leaped off the couch, tearing her hand from his grasp. The cat scooted
across the floor. "I can't think. My head's muzzy. I'm too tired, and
my hand is hurting again."

Alex sprang to his feet. He seized her face between both his hands
and pressed his lips onto hers. She resisted very briefly, and then her
body sagged against his, and he had to release her face and hold
her up instead, never losing contact with her mouth. She sighed when
he eventually drew away, and he smiled. "Remember that," he murmured. "Take it to bed with you, and think of me."

She stretched up for another kiss, which he willingly granted.

"I know you love me," he said into her mouth.

"I can't commit myself, Alex. I can't go from raising the kids
straight into a relationship with all its expectations. I can't load on
more. I want to be by myself after Katy grows up. I want to be a musician. I don't want to answer to anyone."

"Even someone you love?"

"I think so," she said slowly. "Yes."

"But you'll let me hang around, won't you?" He gripped her by
the shoulders to peer down into her upturned face. The green eyes,
which moments before had swum with love, turned glassy and hard.
Chloe firmed her mouth, and a chill shivered its way down his spine.

"I'd feel trapped, knowing you were expecting me to marry you
one day." The words hit like rocks, painful, sharp. Wounding.

Despite his attempt to maintain control and a semblance of dignity after such a baring of his soul to her scorn-wanting to howl in
despair at the insanity of her statement-his voice rose on a surge of
anger. "We love each other, and you deliberately want to stay apart
because in seven years' time you want to do your own thing?"

"I don't want to be responsible for another child."

"You won't be. Steffie's mine."

"If we're together, of course I'll be responsible. That's what you
just don't get, do you?"

"No, I don't!"

"I can't not be responsible for your daughter if we're in a relationship. I can't ignore her the way you do and say she's her mother's
problem. I'm not like that."