Far North: Hide Your Heart Part 10

Kathy shepherded the kids into her car and with a cheeky wave, drove off. Lauren walked to her goggles and s.n.a.t.c.hed them from the ground.

"Lauren?"

She urged her facial muscles to relax into a pleasantly bland expression and turned.

The camera slung around his neck, such an extension of his body, represented the sum total of her experience with the media. It was a sharp reminder that the public's voracious consumption meant everything a celebrity did became news to those who exploited it for big bucks. If Nate uncovered her secret, she badly wanted to believe he wouldn't make a phone call to one of the nationally distributed papers. But how hard would it be to pa.s.s up a juicy story of a fairytale turned sour?

"About before-"

"The kiss was a mistake. It should never have happened." Her breathing hitched at the flash of fire in his eyes.

"A mistake? So I should apologize?" He unhooked the camera from around his neck and opened the back door of his car.

"No, of course not. But it can't happen again."

The heat in his gaze frosted over. "You're right, and it won't."

Nate packed the camera into its case, and she remembered his hands, the strength locking their bodies together at the hip, but so gentle when they touched Drew. Remembered too, another's hands that patted her son's head indifferently then hours later turned into claws fisting her long hair. She'd been sucked in by a man's charm and charisma and deliciously addictive kisses before.

"Just so we're clear." Clutching the ear protectors and goggles to her stomach, she turned away.

"Crystal." His voice clipped the word to shards.

Chapter 5.

Nate was punctual at mealtimes, insisted on washing up afterward, and he never turned down a rousing board game with Drew. The man was unfaultable as a boarder.

During the early morning hours when insomnia struck, Lauren had paced along the French doors, kinda hoping he'd find an excuse to come up. He didn't. And two days after that scorching-hot kiss, Lauren still couldn't goad any reaction from him other than polite indifference. She wanted to kick him in the shins.

At her desk, tackling her and Todd's accounts, Lauren sighed and stretched the kinks from her back. She'd liked the hesitant camaraderie that had developed in their week of working together. Now it'd disappeared, and their every interaction was tense and forced. His coolness could've stemmed from male pique, but she doubted Nate was the type of man to sulk at a woman's rejection.

Shouldn't his indifference make things less complicated?

She shut down her laptop and got up to check the chicken pot pie in the oven. Drew, outfitted in his Superman cape, waited outside for the rumble of Nate's Range Rover. Thank G.o.d Nate's coolness didn't extend to her son.

"He's coming!" Drew streaked across the deck with Java trotting alongside, his tail a wagging blur. Even her treacherous dog warranted more attention from Nate than she did.

Spot of pique yourself, girl? Thought you didn't want his laser-like attention focused on you?

She removed the pie dish and mumbled a curse at her pathetic attempt to reignite the flicker of warmth in Nate's eyes. Since The Kiss, their eye contact rarely lasted longer than a second.

Nate stepped onto the deck as she placed a bowl of green salad on the dining table. Drew launched himself at Nate's legs and all but shimmied up his tall frame.

Nate lifted her son onto his shoulders. "Hey, little mate, what did you cook for dinner?"

Drew giggled, wrapping his small hands under Nate's chin. "I can't cook, silly. Mummy made chicken pie."

"Smells great." Nate turned to her with a leftover smile from Drew's laughter, but it stopped short of thawing his gaze.

He kept her son entertained throughout dinner with stories of Nate's childhood exploits in faraway lands. Drew found the subject of snakes and other creepy-crawlies Nate had encountered endlessly fascinating.

"We never saw snakes in New York, did we, Mummy?"

Aware Nate's attention had switched back to her, she toyed with the remaining salad on her plate. "No, snakes don't like the city."

Nate's chair creaked as his weight shifted. "I've told enough stories tonight. Why don't you tell us a New York story, Lauren?"

Refusing to meet the challenge in his tone, she kept her face toward her son. "My stories aren't very exciting. I'm sure you'd rather hear more about the scorpions in the Philippines."

Drew mashed a chunk of pastry with the back of his spoon and slid a sideways glance at Nate. "I don't want Mummy's stories 'bout New York. It's a bad place, and I don't like it."

Nate's flinty gaze pinned her across the table.

"Fair enough," he said, after a beat. "If snakes don't like living in the Big Apple, I'm sure I wouldn't either."

Once they finished eating, Nate laced his fingers over his non-existent stomach with a satisfied sigh and chuckled as Drew mirrored his actions. Nate made her stay seated while he and Drew cleared the plates off the table.

Seven-thirty finally rolled around, and never had Lauren been so glad to announce, "Bedtime," to Drew. Teeth were brushed, a story read, and the nightlight switched on, and Lauren breathed out a sigh as she descended the stairs, registering silence from the other rooms. Thank goodness, Nate had gone.

Strict professionalism was impossible since the pleasant spark of heat between them had ignited into a wildfire. They'd crossed an invisible line with that kiss, and wildfires had a nasty habit of destroying lives if left unchecked.

Lauren stepped through the archway, only to freeze at an unexpected complication. A complication who sprawled on her couch with a steaming mug in his hand.

"I thought you'd gone down to the workshop already." Lauren's gaze darted from Nate's long, denim-clad legs to the extra mug on the coffee table.

"Nope. I made you tea-chamomile, right?"

Her hand fluttered to her lips. "I should get on with the dishes."

"I've done them. Come and have your tea."

Lauren accepted the mug and chose to sit on the couch opposite. "Thanks. It's been a long day."

As she sipped, she flicked him a glance over the rim.

He leaned back, crossed his ankles and kept her gaze trapped. "Will you tell me about New York?"

"Oh. Ah, surely you've been there?" Tell him about New York? She'd barely told her family about her disastrous, four-year marriage.

"Couple of times."

Then, in the way some guys intuitively did, he shut up and just watched her. Watched her with those dark-lashed, gorgeous green eyes.

d.a.m.n.

"I don't know where to start."

"Start at the beginning."

"Right."

Where did her story begin? Where were the safe spots she could stand on like stepping stones in a turbulent river? What parts of her truth did she dare expose?

She sucked in a deep breath. "I got married at twenty-too young, I know." She cut him a sharp glance, but his impa.s.sive face showed no tell-tale sign of impending judgment. "I met John at a bar while I was with a bunch of friends."

Technically, it was a charity gala, and her agent insisted she and four other models in the agency attend. Jonathan Knight had swooped in on her like a bird of prey spotting a field mouse. At nineteen, and having her first taste of freedom since her mother had left her in New York, Lauren believed she could handle a man like Jonathan.

"To a naive girl from small town New Zealand, he appeared very sophisticated and worldly. Not to mention he was the cliched tall, dark and handsome."

"He had dark hair and was tall?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you reacted so dramatically when I found you on the road?"

Her fingers looped around her knees and squeezed. "You're a similar build, have similar colored hair and similar sized...hands."

"Well, h.e.l.l."

"But you have different eyes. John's were hard and nearly black. I could never read his mood."

A fine network of lines radiated from the corner of Nate's eyes, the spark of wry humor lighting the clear green depths.

"Yours are like the sea, deep enough to drown in. They're kind eyes." A flood of heat crept over her skin and she averted her gaze.

"I got swept away in the romance of it all. The extravagant gestures, the finest restaurants, his attention focused solely on me. I believed he loved me." She choked out a bitter laugh. "But his love was conditional and based on ownership."

She paused, remembering the little signs she'd overlooked. His frown if he arrived for a date and she'd dressed in an outfit he didn't like. How designer-stamped bags would arrive the next day, loaded with garments he'd selected. Garments he deemed suitable. The first flex of control over her life, something she'd missed at the time.

"We got married a few days after my twentieth birthday. He paid for Mum, Todd, Kathy and even Sophie to fly to New York for the wedding.

"What did they think of him?"

"Mum deemed him the catch of a lifetime. Todd didn't take to him, but he kept his mouth shut as he figured his own bias was at play. Kathy liked him well enough until he threw a mini fit about Sophie spilling her orange juice on his apartment's white carpet. He apologized profusely and even bought Sophie a huge stuffed animal from FAO Schwarz." She shook her head. "Kathy never said anything until years later."

"He charmed your whole family?"

"Oh, he charmed everyone around him." She shook her head ruefully. "I was so blinded, I refused to listen to what my gut told me-that although my mother adored him, my dad"-Lauren swallowed with a throat as coa.r.s.e as sandpaper- "my dad would've cut off his own arm before letting me marry him."

"The rose-colored gla.s.ses started to peel away pretty quickly, I'm guessing."

"It was less than a year, and things changed. He started criticizing and degrading me in small, subtle ways-demanding to know my every move, insinuating I was unfaithful if he caught another man looking in my direction." She twisted and untwisted the same strand of her hair. "Married John was nothing like boyfriend or fiance John. A completely different person compared to the man I'd fallen for."

Nate took another sip from his mug. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. I loved him-or thought I did. I kept telling myself it'd be okay. When I found out I was pregnant, it all changed again."

"Did he want the baby?"

Lauren shut her eyes. Travelled back to that afternoon as she'd met Jonathan at the door, the little plastic strip with its exciting news clutched in her hand.

"Darling, we're going to have a baby!"

He peeled her arms from around his shoulders, his thumbs digging into her biceps hard enough to leave bruises. "You're a model, not a breeding heifer."

The tester fell from her numb fingers.

Jonathan pulled out his cellphone, delivering her a look of pure frost. "I know a doctor who can deal with this quickly and privately."

"No!" She'd never defied him before. "I'll walk out this door right now. I'm keeping this baby."

They stared at each other a moment longer before Jonathan said, "I apologize, Alexandra. I didn't realize you felt so strongly. I was only thinking of your career."

He wasn't sorry. Pain squeezed her reply into a choked whisper. "This baby means more to me than my career." And it should mean more to you.

No. Drew's father hadn't wanted him.

Lauren opened her eyes and shook her head. "Once he found out about my pregnancy, it went downhill. He stopped asking where I was and started to work longer hours. After Drew was born, John had little to do with him, and Drew soon learned not to bother his father."

"Was he afraid of him?"

Lauren sighed. "Not at first. John didn't physically discipline him, but he didn't touch him with affection, either. To Drew, his father was just a person who occasionally entered his little world. A man who treated him much the way a bachelor uncle will absently pat the head of his nephew once a year at a Christmas get-together."

Nate shifted on the couch, and running a hand through his hair, he leaned forward. "Something happened to change that, didn't it?"

She pressed her lips together. "Yes. But I don't want to talk about it now. Let's just say one day I woke up and realized I'd made a terrible decision that would cost me everything if I didn't make a better one. So I made a better decision. I left with Drew, came home and divorced my husband."

"Not before he hurt you."

"No. I left a little too late."

Nate rose and sat beside her. The intensity of his gaze caused her fingers to bunch into fists on her knees.

He picked up her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "Thank you for telling me."

Her blood buzzed from his nearness and the touch of his lips on her skin. He continued to hold her hand until her fingers uncurled. Silence between them transformed from awkward to electric, like the static that crackles in the atmosphere just before lightning strikes.

"I should never have kissed you," she blurted. "I should've walked away."

Nate's eyebrow twitched up, but he didn't speak.

"And it's not because I don't find you attractive; I do-"