Rekindled by Barbara Delinsky Page A

wasn’t your fault!”
    “But she died.”
    “And you lived, is that it? You can’t forgive yourself for that?”
    She jumped to her feet. With her heart pounding a thunderous beat, she stared at him for an agonized moment before forcing her feet to move. Her steps were slow at first, then gained speed as the force of habit took over and she jogged toward safer ground.
    With pitiful ease, Ross caught up. He caught her elbow, using her own momentum to bring her around. When she faced him at a full stop, he held her by both arms.
    “I’m trying to be honest,” he said.
    “But it hurts. Can’t you see that? It hurts!” She was consumed by it, a hurt that was alive and festering. He had to see it anywhere he looked.
    “The only way the hurt will stop,” he chided gently, “is for you to put the past behind you.”
    Her eyes filled with tears. “Do you think I haven’t tried? Do you think I’ve spent the past eleven years purposely living with a ghost?”
    **skip**”Maybe not, but you’ve done it. You haven’t resolved a thing in the eleven years, if that hurt in your eyes is for real. It’s your punishment, isn’t it? Your punishment for living.”
    She shook her head and whispered, “No. That’s not true!”
    “Not true?” he echoed in a voice strangely mellow. “Answer me one thing, Chloe. Have you been with another man since we were together?”
    “That’s none of your bus-“
    “It is so.” He took her face in his hands, correctly anticipating her attempt to look away. His touch was gentle but firm. “I was the first. It’s my brand that shaped you. How many others were there?”
    “That’s vulgar!” she cried.
    “Maybe. Answer the question.”
    “I won’t. Are you jealous, jealous and guilt-ridden? Well, I don’t need either of those traits in the man in my life. I’m doing just fine withoutwithout-” Her limbs trembled.
    Ross drew her against him, pressing her cheek to his chest, wrapping his arms around her back. “Without love?” he asked, so softly that she might not have heard him had the word not been on the tip of her tongue.
    Incapable of speech for the moment, she simply breathed in the scent that was all male, all Ross. His heart beat steadily by her ear, gradually coaxing her own to slow. His arms enveloped her and lent her strength.
    “I tried.” She spoke, unsteadily at first. “I dated. I still do.” It was easier not having to look at him. “I even tried to go to bed with one of them.”
    She recalled the horror of the moment. “He decided I was frigid.”
    A deep laugh broke from Ross’s throat, a laugh that was strangely hoarse. “That’s ridiculous,” he crooned into the warmth of her hair, but when he tipped her face up he felt her stiffen. “Oh, no, you don’t.” His mouth found hers.
    She fought him then. Struggling to free herself from the band of his arms, she pushed against his chest, all the while trying to evade his lips, but he was stronger than she was. The more she squirmed, the more he steadied her. His lips stroked hers, demanding the kind of response that he alone knew she had in her.
    When her physical strength waned, Chloe tried passivity. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of the night in New Hampshire or, worse, that fateful night back in New Orleans. She had no right, she told herself, no right!
    “Come on, Chloe,” Ross growled against her lips. “Ease up.”
    “Don’t-“
    She shouldn’t have said anything. The tiny parting of her lips gave him the opening he needed, and then she didn’t have a chance. His tongue invaded her mouth, spreading its sweetness deep. She told herself that it was physical, that she could resist if she wanted to enough, but her body betrayed her. It swayed toward him, weak with wanting.
    From an odd defense mechanism, her mind went blank. It was as though the battle between guilt and desire created a mental void. In that void there was nothing but Ross and his body, the lips that caressed her,