Four Weddings: A Woman To Belong To / A Wedding in Warragurra / The Surgeon's Chosen Wife / The Playboy Doctor's Marriage Proposal. Fiona Lowe
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She moved over to make some space.
He lay down next to her, drawing her back against his front, moulding his body to hers and wrapping his strong arms around her in a tender hug. He gently kissed her hair and sighed, his arms tightening around her.
She breathed out and snuggled in, sheltering in his caring arms, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her back. Serenity flowed through her. She belonged here with this amazing, caring man. When she’d come to Vietnam with a plan to help, she’d never thought that Vietnam would give her a greater gift. The gift of trust.
His breathing slowed, and his body slackened against her. She stroked his arms. The poor guy was exhausted. She smiled, thinking about their vigorous lovemaking and swimming hours earlier. She’d been part of wearing him out.
When he’d made love to her she’d never been so exhilarated in her life. It was as if he’d opened a door to a new world and she’d tumbled through it into paradise. And it was so much more than the sex.
The sex had been brilliant but lying here in his arms feeling cosseted and treasured, was part of this new world. A world of trust and respect, of friendship and understanding, and infinite caring. Of love.
Love.
For the first time in her life she recognised what love in its true form really was. She could touch it and taste it and feel it.
She belonged with this man.
With her legs entwined with his and her arms resting against his, she drifted into sleep.
* * *
Tom quietly let himself back into the cabin. He’d woken and gone up to check Trang. He was much the same but it could take five days for the paresthaesia and muscle weakness to subside completely. They were still an hour away from berthing in Halong City and the blinding rain and wind hadn’t abated.
He should wake Bec up but she looked so peaceful, lying there. He half reclined next to her, stroking her hair from her face. She cuddled into him, her head resting on his chest.
What a night. She’d been sick and he’d been so exhausted he’d barely been able to stand. No languid lovemaking. Just sleep. He’d been surprised at how deep his few hours of sleep had been. Usually he tossed and turned when he was overtired and on call.
She stirred, murmuring in her sleep. He thought he heard his name.
She’d cried out his name yesterday. Memories of her passionate and generous lovemaking on the beach flooded through him. She’d given herself to him completely and utterly with an intensity that had stunned him.
No barriers.
No guarding.
She’d been open in a way she’d never been before. It was as if he’d discovered a new Bec.
She opened her eyes. ‘Morning.’
‘Morning.’ He looked down into crystal-clear violet eyes. Eyes completely free of all the shadows that had been a permanent part of her. Eyes whose new clarity no longer hid her emotions but emphasised them.
Eyes that shone with love.
Oh, God. His breath rushed out of his lungs so fast it was as if he’d been king-hit in the solar plexus. She loved him. How could he have been so stupid? So careless?
Thank you for rescuing me.
He threw his head back, closing his eyes against the ache that burned inside him. He’d ignored the warning voices in his head and given in to lust, taking everything she’d offered and kidding himself she’d had the same overwhelming needs as him. Thinking it had just been sex.
A tight band crushed his chest. Breathing got hard.
But this was Bec.
Bec, who’d never known true friendship before. Bec who’d been hurt so badly in the past that there would be no way she would have given herself so totally to him without love.
Reality crashed over him like the violent waves in Halong Bay. She loved him.
He didn’t love her.
How could he love anyone when he had this empty space eating away inside him, and no knowledge about who he really was?
Nausea poured through him. His heart pounded in his chest. Sweat broke out on his brow. The cabin suddenly seemed small and stifling.
Trust me, Bec.
Self-loathing poured through him. He’d just hurt the one person in the entire world he’d tried to heal and protect.
SLEEP VANISHED INSTANTLY as the smile on Tom’s face contorted to a painful grimace. Bec sat up, immediately on full alert. ‘Are you OK? You look really pale.’
He lifted her off his chest and slid off the bed, keeping his back to her. ‘Fine. I’m fine. You need to get up and get ready.’
A shiver of cold ran through her. Yesterday he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. This morning it was as if she was noxious. Don’t be ridiculous. This is Tom.
He started shoving his few clothes into his backpack. ‘We’re docking really soon. I’ll take Trang to the hospital and then I have to go to the X-ray ceremony. I have to be back in Hanoi by tonight.’
The streaks of cold froze inside her. ‘Hang on. What’s this “I have to go to the ceremony". Shouldn’t that be “we“?’
His shoulders stiffened. ‘Yes. Sorry. I’m just used to doing things on my own.’ He tossed her clothes to her, his face a blank mask. ‘Please, get dressed.’
She pulled the trousers and blouse over her underwear, gaining much-needed dignity as well as clothing. She stood up on wobbly legs as the boat continued to pitch. ‘Tom, what’s going on?’
Pain slashed his face. ‘I’m sorry, Bec.’
The words ripped through her, leaving a trail of bleeding destruction in every part of her. Her mind battled her body, not wanting to believe the change in him. There must be a reason. ‘Sorry for what, Tom?’ Please, don’t say yesterday.
‘Yesterday. I’m sorry for yesterday.’
Her legs gave way and she sat on the bed, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress. ‘Exactly which bit of yesterday are you sorry for?’
The skin tightened across his high cheekbones, taut with tension. ‘I shouldn’t have made love to you.’
Her heart shuddered. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her mind clear, not letting her pain swamp her. ‘Why not? We’re consenting adults.’
Deep furrows scored his brow. ‘Yes, but I think you’ve attached more to it than just a romp in the sand.’
He knew she loved him.
Bile scalded the back of her throat. Her body shivered uncontrollably. Wrapping her arms around herself, she threw her head up and stared into eyes that projected sympathy overlaid with guilt. She forced her words out against a constricted throat. ‘And you haven’t attached anything to it?’
Remorse blazed across his face. ‘No. I can’t attach anything to it. I can’t love you.’
Her heart shattered, searing her with burning pain. She’d trusted him. Trusted him with her story, with her friendship. Like every other man she’d known, he’d taken her trust and discarded it, as if it had no value. It was as if she’d put her hand up and said, ‘Use me.’
She gasped for breath as blackness swirled in her mind. Why, after eight years, had she dropped her guard and opened herself up for this? Stupid, stupid girl.
Men