Free Forever My Love by Heather Graham Page B

want?” she demanded desperately.
    â€œI don’t want to pretend that it didn’t happen, that’s all.”
    â€œI never meant to pretend.”
    â€œOr that it wasn’t good, Kathy. And I don’t mean that in any casual way. It was good for the past, and good for the future, and when I’m with you, you have to know that I want you.”
    She tugged more desperately on his hand. “Brent, we’re not going to be together, remember? It’s too damned dangerous. And not because of Johnny Blondell.”
    He dropped her hand slowly, and his eyes were heavily shaded as they brushed hers once again. “That’s right. Damned right,” he said coolly. He rose, relaxed again, able to swing in the breeze with the best composure. “Let’s shower and get going. I’m really sorry. I guess I did forget some of the past.”
    He walked past her and disappeared into the cabin. She held still a second longer, wanting to scream. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what she had been trying to say at all. “Oh, Brent!” she said to the breeze. There were tears on her cheeks. She wiped them away furiously. She had taken what she wanted, and now it was time to pay. She’d made her bargain with herself openly, knowing the consequences.
    She hurried down the steps to her cabin and into the shower. She turned on the water and leaned against the wall.
    He thought he had hurt her, and he thought he was going to hurt her again.
    The water poured softly on her and she leaned there, trying to reason, trying to understand herself.
    He thought he had caused her to lose the new baby that had meant so very much to them both after Ryan had died. He had thought that the argument had caused her miscarriage, that he had been too rough, that he couldn’t give what she needed anymore. And she had been too hurt herself at the time to realize he was slipping away with every remote, polite word. He had moved out of the house, and he hadn’t been able to talk to her. Her pain had turned to fury and she had filed papers, and suddenly all that had been left was the pain.
    He hadn’t left when she had been sick. He had been there, white-faced, every day. He hadn’t left her alone for a minute in the hospital, not when she had hemorrhaged, not when she had hovered so dangerously on the line between life and death. She could remember trying to promise him that there would be another son, and she had thought then that he was bitterly disappointed because he had seemed to decide, all on his own, that there never would be another one.
    When Ryan had died, he had been tender at first. Then he had dragged her back into life, and that had included arguing—and making love fiercely, desperately. It had been good for her. She had wanted to live again, but then she had found out that she was pregnant again.
    Kathy sank down slowly in the shower stall. He had never realized she hadn’t wanted his temper to change. They had been wild as kids, neither one of them willing to give up a battle, and yet neither one of them walking away.
    They had argued right down the aisle, so it seemed.
    And he thought it was his temper. The doctor couldn’t convince him that things just happened. She could remember now the way he had listened, his face so taut, his words betraying nothing, the denial within his heart.
    â€œIt is the past!” she whispered vehemently. Then she stood, wondering what in hell they were doing. They were forgetting their surviving child, the daughter that meant everything in the world to both of them.
    She wrapped up in her towel and hurriedly opened the door to tap on the one across the narrow hallway. There was no answer. She didn’t hear the water running so she carefully cracked open the door, then entered the cabin. Brent was gone. Within a few minutes she had pulled out a pair of shorts and a sleeveless cotton shirt with a mandarin collar.