Drowning Tides by Karen Harper

Author:Karen Harper [Harper, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-01-31T08:00:00+00:00

19

Claire rushed to her bedroom, closed the door and smothered her sobs in her pillow. She flopped over to lie on her back, staring at the dark ceiling, half fearing, half wishing Nick would knock on her door.

Claire knew she’d been clutching at straws to accuse Nick of keeping things back from her. He’d soon told her about seeing Bronco, and let her make the decision to hire him or not. But she had kept important information from him. Would he call her “partner” and mean it? Would he even trust her anymore?

Her tears ran down into her hair and ears, so she sat up and reached for a tissue from the bedside table. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. No use being so stuffed up tonight she couldn’t sleep. This agonizing wasn’t doing any good. She needed her rest, and even her narcolepsy meds had not helped her conk out last night. She’d just take a shower and see if she could relax before she took the potent stuff tonight.

She took a lukewarm shower and pulled on her nightgown, brushed her teeth and looked at herself in the mirror. “Claire Fowler, formerly Britten, now Markwood,” she whispered. “Who are you? You love Lexi, Darcy and her family. And now Nick Markwood, don’t you?”

She nodded at the woman in the mirror, then reached for her hairbrush and pulled it hard through her hair. She padded barefoot back into the bedroom, grabbed the silk robe that matched this favorite nightgown—a bride with nothing new to wear, she thought.

She headed for the door. She had to apologize to Nick. She’d blurted out that she loved him but had to assure him she meant it.

Trembling, she opened her door and went out into the hall. And ran right into Nick, standing with his fist raised.

“Oh!” she cried and jumped back as if he’d been a stranger intent on assault.

“I was going to knock on your door.”

“Sorry to let you down.”

“You were going to check on Lexi or what?”

“Coming to see you.”

“Dressed—undressed like that?”

“Obviously. Definitely.”

His eyes went thoroughly over her. “To argue again—more?”

She shook her head and whispered, “No. I meant what I said, that I love you. It can happen fast, you know, even when other people try to force everything.”

He nodded once, then picked her up so easily. Her arms went around his neck. He walked the few steps to his stateroom and shoved the partly open door wider with his foot. It was dim inside, only a lamp on his desk threw light. He put her down and closed the door, then took a step back, not touching her, but his eyes burned her. He wore jockey shorts and a T-shirt and smelled of pine soap.

“I want to make love to you, Claire. I want us to share a bed now and in the future. But if you say ‘no,’ okay. So either sit on the other side of my worktable to talk or walk to our bed with me.

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