She turned back to the conversation.
The moon climbed higher and then between one conversation and the next it seemed to cross half the sky.
‘It’s late,’ the project leader finally said, tipping the last of his coffee in the fire. ‘I’m to bed.’
Shirley glanced at their distant tent again and knew she’d have to return there eventually. Staying up all night had occurred to her, but she was already wearing every layer she’d brought with her and it wasn’t keeping the cold out any longer.
She shivered even in front of the fire.
‘Come on, Shirley. Let’s get you warm,’ Hayden said.
Let’s … How cosy that sounded.
‘I’m fine.’
‘’Course you are. For a snowman.’ He stood. ‘Come on.’
They left the lingerers to deal with the fire and headed slowly back to their tent. Every heavy footstep bought her seconds of reprieve. At last the moment of truth …
She turned to face him. ‘So, now what?’
His brow furrowed as he lifted his eyes. ‘Now we sleep?’
‘Is that all?’ Or was it just a euphemism?
He grew cautious. ‘Do you want that to be all?’
No. But it had to be. ‘You sound surprised.’
He stared at her thoughtfully. ‘I believed you when you said you knew we’d be over after this trip.’
‘I do know.’
‘So I didn’t expect our final night together to old anything other than a vague poignancy of parting.’
Vague poignancy … That was something, right? She took a breath. ‘It doesn’t.’
Blue eyes challenged her. ‘Liar.’
‘I’m not lying.’
His gaze grew acute. ‘Then why is tonight any different to any other night we’ve shared if it has no other meaning? Why can’t I draw you into the warmth of that bed, the warmth of my arms and body, and farewell you slowly and thoroughly, like a goodbye should be?’
It literally hurt to push words past her constricted larynx. ‘Because we’re done. We decided that out at the ridge, today.’
‘We confirmed this trip would be our last,’ he allowed. ‘We’re not done until I drop you back at your front door.’
She stared. ‘Seriously? Down to the wire? Just so you can get one more roll in the hay?’
‘This isn’t about sex.’
She snorted. ‘Of course it is.’
‘This is about us meaning more to you than something casual. Because if you truly didn’t care then you wouldn’t have any concerns about sleeping with me now.’
Every muscle squeezed. He was way too close. ‘No. This is about you wanting to milk a good thing for every drop.’
And she’d been beyond foolish to ever set herself up for this.
His expression grew dangerously blank. ‘You think I’m hard up for female company, Shirley?’
She’d never asked him if he was seeing anyone else. She’d never wanted to know. Because asking meant trusting his response and somewhere way deep down inside that she never looked she feared she couldn’t trust him. Not with her heart.
‘I’m sure there’s a queue waiting for their chance at a rich, handsome man, no matter how damaged.’
He pursed his lips and nodded. Then he spoke. ‘Casting stones, Shirley?’
To look at him—his casual stance, his even colour—you’d think he was supremely unconcerned by this awful discussion. But the vein pulsing high in his temple said otherwise.
He was bothered.
She just didn’t know by what.
She held her ground. ‘I’m not damaged.’ Not to the same degree.
‘Oh, please … Look at the extremes you’re going to in order to please a woman who’s been dead for a decade. Your career choice. Your choice in men.’
‘What men?’
‘Exactly my point. And when you did finally relent to one, it’s casual and commitment-free. You’re hiding from the entire world one way or another.’
‘Pot, meet kettle.’ Shirley glared. ‘For someone who hasn’t left his cottage in two years or had a steady relationship ever you’re very fast to spot deficiencies in others.’
‘I know why I went underground. Can you say the same? Why hide behind the job? The crazy outfits?’
Really? Now even her clothes were a crime? She threw her hands in the air. ‘It’s fashion, Hayden. It doesn’t mean I dally in self-harm or dance around naked in a circle of stones when the moon is in its zenith.’
‘It’s a mask. And it fits you so well you’ve forgotten you’re wearing it.’
She locked eyes. ‘I’m having no problem right now understanding why commitment-free seems attractive …’
‘Come on, Shirley, ask yourself. Why do you do all of this? What are you protecting yourself from?’
She stopped, dead. ‘What?’
‘How many close friends did you have growing up?’ he challenged.
The rapid subject change threw her. ‘A few.’ Two. Two tenacious girls who never had been able to recognise subtext. They stayed with her, no matter what.
No matter what you did to ditch them, a voice whispered.
Or maybe test them.
She frowned.
‘What do my friends—’ or lack thereof ‘—have to do with anything?’
‘It’s indicative of you avoiding opening yourself up to people. What is it that you think they’ll find if you let them in?’
Insufficiency. Her mind immediately filled in the blank. Someone who is somehow sub-par.
Her bunching muscles forced her to shove that away and focus on the man in front of her. ‘I’m confused, Hayden. A few minutes ago you were the champion of keeping things light, now you’re criticising my lack of commitment. You can’t have it both ways.’
Like white blood cells rushing in to swamp an open wound,
