Never Let Go by Sherryl Woods

Author:Sherryl Woods [Woods, Sherryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-19T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 8

For several minutes after Justin spoke, Mallory sat in stunned silence. Her heart grieved for this man she knew to be sensitive and gentle and kind beneath the harsh facade he maintained for the world. And she was angry, for she understood now why Justin had shut himself off from people, why he had been terrified to let anyone into his life. Those he had loved most as a child had done damage to his ability to trust that was possibly irreparable. It was also just as likely that they had warped his self-image in such a way that he felt he wasn’t lovable.

Thinking back now, it all made sense—the impossibly high standards he set for himself and others, the distance he had kept from his patients, the special poignancy so evident in his relationship with Davey. All were the actions and attitudes of a man torn between wanting love and fearing it.

He was sitting next to her now, his jaw tightly clenched, his body rigid. Now that he’d said the words, he was clearly regretting them. He radiated tension as he waited for her response. When she started to put her hand on his, he jerked away, much as Davey had the first time she had reached out to him. With Justin, though, she didn’t let go.

“Tell me about it,” she said gently, her thumb grazing his whitened knuckles until his fingers finally relaxed.

He shook his head. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Not even to me?”

“Especially not to you.”

“That doesn’t make sense. You’re obviously beginning to trust me. You’ve already told me it happened. Why not the rest?”

“I do trust you,” he said, his gaze intense, trying to tell her far more than he could with words. “You, Mallory Blake, the woman.”

Suddenly she understood and she uttered a soft sigh of regret. “But not Mallory Blake, Ph.D.”

“Exactly.”

“You can’t separate the two, Justin. I am a psychologist.” He had no idea how true that was, how ingrained the training was in her. Now was not the time for her to bring up her own personal tragedy.

“But right now, at this moment,” she reassured him, “I am a woman who cares very much about you. No analysis, I promise. Just a friend who’s willing to listen.”

Whether it was because of the sincerity of her promise or the depth of his own need, Justin finally started talking. The words began slowly, like the first trickle of water that would later become a flood. For the next few hours the story poured out. It was not unlike Davey’s.

Justin’s mother, Karen Lewis, had been beautiful, socially ambitious and bright. She had been sent to the best schools, not so much for an education, but in the hope that she would find a suitable match. She had met Justin’s father, heir to a large fortune in shipping, during her senior year. They had little in common, with the possible exception of an interest in his future. There had been a whirlwind courtship, which passed by in a blur of champagne and travel and parties.

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