grace to come over and congratulate you when you won that award?’
Scott said nothing.
‘That he was jealous,’ Kate said. ‘Is jealous. Of you.’
Scoffing laugh. ‘He has nothing to be jealous of.’
‘Really? Because the way I see it, you have something Hugo wants badly but will never, ever have. I’ll bet your parents don’t have it either. I’ll bet none of them even understands it—which is why it’s three against one in the Knight family. You have creativity, and charisma, and wit, and decency, and…and adventure in your soul, and so much more. That’s why you went to the Whitsundays, and why Hugo had to make do with what he thought was one better. Except it wasn’t one better. He had to follow you to one-up you. And he had to one-up you because that’s the only way he can feel better than you. He can’t bear your success because he wants it all—all for himself. He can’t be you, so he steals from you. But he can’t steal the one thing he really wants because that would make him…you. And, no matter what he tries, he never will be you.’
Scott shook his head, wearing one of those smiles that meant nothing.
‘And the sailing thing?’ she said urgently. ‘I’d tell you to make it your thing again, if it bothers you, but you don’t have to make it your thing. Because it is your thing. It always was—and it will be waiting for you when you’re ready to let it all go and just be, Scott. Just be. Without comparing yourself to anyone.’
‘I’ve given up comparing myself, Kate.’ Scott took a deep, visible breath. ‘Number two is fine with me.’
Heart. Breaking.
‘You’re not number two. Not with me, Scott.’
‘Not yet. But give it time. Someone else will come along. Someone older, like that Phillip guy. Someone smarter, like Hugo. Someone not as stitched-up and closed-off and conservative, like Brodie. That’s why you danced with him. Why you went sailing with him. I’ll bet you even told him about your custody case.’
She was silent.
‘Did you, Kate?’ he asked, and she heard the edge of danger in his voice.
‘I don’t talk about my cases. Not in…in detail.’
‘Obfuscation? How very…legal.’ He shook his head, disgusted.
‘You sound like my mother. She really would like you, Scott.’
‘Did you tell him, Kate? It’s a simple question—one of those simple questions you say you don’t have a problem with.’
She took a quick breath. ‘Then, yes. That’s the answer. I did. I told him.’
Scott’s hand fisted, banged on the table, and Kate flinched.
‘Why?’ The word shot out like a bullet.
‘Because he asked. As a friend.’
‘I can’t believe this.’ Scott shot to his feet, paced away, then back. ‘What the hell am I, Kate? I’ve been trying to talk to you about it for a week.’
He banged both fists on the table this time.
‘Tell me!’ Another bang. ‘Tell me, Kate, dammit!’
Kate’s heart had jumped right into her throat as his fists hit the table, and for a moment all she could do was stare at him. He looked a heartbeat away from breathing fire.
Out of control—at last.
And now she had to find words, when all she wanted to do was fling herself at him and wrap herself around him and beg him to let her love him, to love her back.
She realised she’d left it too long to speak when, cursing, Scott started to pace away again. One step…two.
‘Wait,’ she said, standing, grabbing his swinging arm so fast her chair toppled backwards. ‘I’ll tell you.’
He was shaking his head as he turned, wrenched his arm free. ‘Don’t bother, Kate. Just…just don’t. It’s too damned late.’
‘I’m representing the father,’ she rushed out. ‘Who’s been sitting on the sidelines going slowly out of his mind while his ex-wife’s new boyfriend slaps his three-year-old son around. Something he’s reported over and over and over. But nobody believes him. Because there’s been enough mud slung to cast all sorts of doubts about him. His little boy screams and begs every time he has to go back to his mother after a scheduled visit.’
Kate’s breaths were heaving in and out and she’d started to shake with the fury of it.
‘My client ended up so desperate he kidnapped his own child to protect him. And what did he get for caring like that? No more visits. At all. That’s what.’
Her throat was clogged and swollen. The injustice of it was raging out of her, even though she’d won. Why? Why did it still get to her? No answer—it just did. And it was all too much. The case… Scott…her damned life.
‘So you want to know why I didn’t tell you, Scott?’ she asked as the tears started. ‘Because you didn’t sign up for deep and meaningful, remember? And that’s deep and meaningful to me. I needed you. But how could I tell you? What could I say? When you said—made it clear— Oh, God. I can’t. I…can’t. I…’
But she couldn’t go on. She was choking on tears. And suddenly she gave in to them, sobbing into her hands.
And then she was in Scott’s arms, held tightly against his chest. ‘Shh, shh, Kate… I’m here.’
‘No, Scott, you’re not,’ she sobbed into his shoulder. ‘You’re not here. Your body’s here—that’s all. Just your body.’
She tried to pull away but Scott held on. ‘I’m not letting you go, Kate, so stop struggling.’
‘And if I do? If I stop struggling?’ She looked up at him. ‘Then what? You’ll ask me to spit out a few legal terms and take me to bed?’
‘Yes,’ he said simply.
‘That’s not enough,’ she cried, and buried her face in his shoulder again. ‘I want more.’
‘So do I. That’s why we’re rolling it over.’
‘No, Scott, we’re not.’
‘You just said you wanted more.’
‘Not more sex! More…more.’
‘I don’t— I don’t—’
‘No, you don’t’ she cut in, half-despair, half-rage, as she pulled out of his arms. ‘That’s the problem. Well, I’m not hanging in limbo any more, like a suspended piñata, waiting to have the crap beaten out of me.’
‘A piña—?’ He stopped. Incredulous.
