Falling for Mr. Mysterious Page 14

Shaken, she set the shopping down while she extracted the spare key she’d kept, then opened the door and let herself inside.

  ‘Hello, Jude?’ she called softly, standing in the hallway, clutching her bags.

  It was several moments before he appeared at the doorway to his room. Just the sight of him set small flames inside Emily, but she could see that behind his sunglasses he was scowling as fiercely as Keira.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded.

  Not quite the greeting she’d hoped for. He sounded tired. Fed up. Angry.

  ‘I brought some groceries.’ She was almost apologetic.

  Jude sighed, rubbing at his forehead.

  ‘You look tired,’ she said, knowing she probably sounded as worried as she suddenly felt. Why had Keira left? Wasn’t she supposed to be supervising Jude’s post-operative care?

  ‘Please, go and rest,’ she said. ‘I’ll just pop these things in the kitchen. I won’t disturb you.’

  Jude didn’t bother with thanks. He gave a slight nod, then shut his door.

  Emily gulped. Just as well she hadn’t expected this to be easy.

  * * *

  Jude lay with the curtains drawn and his eyes closed. He’d been drained by the argument with Keira, and he simply had no energy to deal with Emily as well.

  He’d almost wept when he’d seen her, standing in the hallway looking like a Renaissance angel with her arms full of twenty-first century groceries.

  But she shouldn’t have come. He hated her seeing him like this. He’d tried to keep her at a distance, but she’d come to the hospital anyhow and it had nearly killed him to see her yesterday, sitting on the far side of the room like any run-of-the-mill visitor.

  What was he going to do about her?

  Was he in love with her?

  He’d never felt this intensity of confusion and distraction over any other woman. He’d never felt so lonely as when he was apart from her. He’d never spent hours reliving every memory of the way a woman moved or smiled. He’d never felt so incomplete in a woman’s absence.

  But, in his current state, a future with Emily seemed too much to hope for.

  His sister, Charlotte, thought otherwise. She’d told him so this morning when she’d said goodbye before retuning to Sydney.

  ‘Hang on to this one,’ she’d said, hugging him with tears in her eyes. ‘Don’t push Emily away, Jude. I know she’s right for you.’

  ‘How can you know?’ He was desperate to hear her answer.

  ‘Don’t be a deadbeat,’ she’d gently chided. ‘You’re my brother. I know these things. I’ve known you all my life, and I’ve met most of your girlfriends, and I—’

  Charlotte had given a shrugging little laugh. ‘OK, maybe it’s only a hunch, and I don’t know where the hunch comes from. Call it sisterly intuition or wishful thinking, but there’s something about Emily that feels very in tune with you, Jude.’

  In tune. In harmony.

  It was such a simplistic concept, but Charlotte had hit straight on the truth. When Jude remembered everything he and Emily had shared together, from watching movies to breakfast in bed, there’d been many, many harmonious moments and next to no discord.

  That in itself was interesting. He usually ended up arguing with his girlfriends, or disappointing them, just as his father had argued with or disappointed his mother. Jude had assumed that he’d inherited the failing.

  Perhaps he was reading too much into his sister’s comments, but he couldn’t deny that he’d loved having Emily in his life. Loved? There ought to be a stronger word. The thought that he might lose her horrified him. But after the disappointments she’d had with boyfriends, he had no intention of offering her false hope.

  Until his vision cleared and his headaches eased, he had nothing to offer her except uncertainty and poorly suppressed fears.

  She deserved so much more.

  At the very least she deserved a whole man.

  Jude grimaced as Keira’s final accusation pounded in his head. Was she right? Was his need to hide his imperfections a failing rather than a strength?

  Probably.

  But his desire to keep his weaknesses hidden was so ingrained that he couldn’t imagine living any other way. He’d learned as a child to cope on his own and to paper over any visible cracks in the image he presented to the world.

  This warped version of coping probably came from having parents who arrived home every night, tired from the Court House and preferring to drink expensive wine and to argue with each other than to take more than a cursory interest in their children. Jude had spent many evenings entertaining Charlotte with bedtime stories. It was how he’d discovered and nurtured his writing talent.

  Their nanny had been kindness personified and Jude had adored her but, under his father’s watchful eye, even she had been instructed to offer minimum pampering when the children were sick or hurt.

  Charlotte had reacted quite differently to their upbringing. She’d taken up nursing and thrown herself into caring for others. After she’d married, she’d become a perfect wife and mother, devoted to her family.

  Jude had chosen fierce independence. He could totally lose himself in his writing, so he’d been more or less happy with his life as a semi-recluse. Before Emily.

  Could he change? Or was he fooling himself to think he might ever be right for her, even if he was fully recovered?

  The question was too hard to answer, certainly now…when his head was aching and he needed to sleep…

  * * *

  Jude slept for hours, and Emily couldn’t believe how disconcerting she found this. She almost wished Keira was still there so that she could check if this lengthy sleep was normal.

  She was as nervous as a mother with a brand-new baby. Twice she crept to the door of Jude’s room and opened it a crack just to see if his chest was still rising and falling.

  The rest of the time, she kept herself busy in the kitchen, making a beef casserole and a batch of muffins, as well as a proper homemade chicken soup with vegetables and barley. Clearly, Jude’s illness brought out the homebody in her.

  It was dark when he finally woke. He came into the kitchen, tousle-haired and barefoot, with a hand shading his eyes.

  Quickly, Emily turned the overhead light off. ‘Sorry.’ Now there was just a soft light coming from the pantry. ‘Is that better?’

  ‘Thanks, that’s fine.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Fabulous. I really needed that sleep. Could never get enough in the hospital.’ He shot a frowning glance to the stove. ‘You’ve been busy.’

  ‘I thought you might like a bit more than tinned soup.’

  His mouth tilted, not quite cracking a smile. He was wearing a long-sleeved grey T-shirt and jeans and the light from the pantry cast chiaroscuro shadows, highlighting the masculine planes and angles of his face. Despite the dark stubble on his jaw, he looked a little pale, but Emily was quite sure no one had ever looked more lovable.

  She wanted to go to him, to slip her arms around him, to press her cheek against his chest, her ear against his heart.

  Alternatively, she wouldn’t have objected if he wanted to put his arms around her just as he had when she’d been standing at the sink on the day before the operation.

  Neither of them moved, however.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ she asked.

  Jude rubbed a hand over his stomach. ‘Starving.’

  ‘There’s a beef casserole or there’s chicken soup.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Emily.’ His darkly lashed eyes glinted silver in the soft light and he sent her a sad smile. ‘I’m really grateful for the food.’

  ‘No problem,’ she said uncertainly, sensing that he was about to say
something more, something she didn’t want to hear.

  Jude looked uncomfortable. ‘You weren’t actually planning on staying here, were you?’

  Fear tightened like an icy fist in her chest. ‘Don’t…’ Oh, God, she couldn’t believe she was asking this. ‘Don’t you want me to stay?’

  At Jude’s hesitation, her insides shrank.

  With a pained grimace, he rubbed at his unshaven jaw. ‘Look, I know this is your cousin’s place.’ His gaze flickered, not quite meeting hers. ‘But could you give me a little space for a few more days?’

  ‘How many days?’

  ‘Till next week?’

  Next week?

  Dismayed, Emily grabbed hold of a bench top for support. Jude had told her he was feeling fine, and he’d sent Keira packing. Didn’t that leave the door open for her to come back?

  ‘I’m just not ready to be sociable,’ he said.

  ‘I wouldn’t expect you to be sociable. But I wanted to help.’

  ‘Thanks, but I don’t need help.’

  He said this with some reluctance, but that couldn’t soften the blow.

  He didn’t want her.

  She’d been so carried away, rushing here with her dreams of courage and winning. But her silly dream had been one-sided, based on a foolish hope that Jude and she might—

  Oh, good grief, she was an idiot.

  How had this happened again? How had she fooled herself into believing that this man was different, that this time she really was going to make a success of a very special relationship?

  The kitchen blurred before Emily’s eyes. Her throat ached horribly.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jude,’ she said in a voice that sounded way too tight and scared. ‘I thought…I assumed…’

  She couldn’t finish. Not without breaking down and making a fool of herself. Not without losing the last tattered shreds of her dignity.

  ‘I’ll get my things,’ she said instead.

  Blinded by tears, she hurried from the kitchen. She hadn’t unpacked her bag. It was still standing just inside the door to Alex’s room, so it was a simple matter to grab it.

  Jude was in the hallway, looking way too tall and gorgeous and grim. ‘You do understand?’ he said.

  No, she didn’t understand at all. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to stand here and listen to his explanation of why her presence was suddenly a problem for him—

  After everything they’d shared together.

  She didn’t want to hear his version of their relationship. She knew how it would go—that they’d had a brief pre-surgery fling with no promises.

  ‘You don’t mind staying at Sunshine Beach till next week?’ he asked.

  Emily didn’t answer at first. She did mind and she wanted to tell him so. Loudly. If he wasn’t still recovering, she might have.

  ‘I may not need to come,’ she said tightly. ‘Not if you are coping just fine on your own. I’ll have to see how I’m placed next week.’ She opened the door. ‘Oh, and I’ve left your car in the garage. Thanks for the loan.’

  ‘Emily.’

  Chin high, Emily refused to turn back. She couldn’t bear to prolong the pain, knowing the result was inevitable. Marching through the doorway, she didn’t copy Keira and let the door slam behind her, even though she now felt huge sympathy for the other woman. Clearly they were both Jude’s victims.

  To her immense relief, she was able to hail a taxi as soon as she reached the footpath. Clambering in, she sat hunched in the back, wrapped in a pain that was all too familiar.

  She was such a fool. Jude had actually rescued her from this kind of hurting over Michael, and yet…once again…she’d fooled herself into thinking that she was safe to fall in love one more time.

  It didn’t help that she understood why Jude was doing this—that he was so much the he-man he hated having anyone see him in a weakened state. That attitude didn’t really make sense when she’d already been living with him and she’d seen him laid low by headaches.

  At least she was certain about one thing—this was the last time she’d push her way into Jude’s life. She’d gone to his mountain home at Alex’s request, even though she’d known she wasn’t really welcome. She’d gone to the hospital against Jude’s wishes, and she’d come here this afternoon instead of waiting for him to invite her.

  Three strikes and she was out.

  Finally, she’d got the message.

  Jude’s reserve had all the hallmarks of a sinking relationship. She’d been on the receiving end of enough rejections and disappointments to recognise the warning signs.

  Why hadn’t she seen this coming?

  Jude made no promises. I knew that, and yet I still fooled myself.

  Somehow—some-crazy-how—she’d managed to trick herself into believing that this time with Jude had been different. This time she’d experienced a truer connection, a two-way connection. She and Jude had understood each other and together they’d helped each other through difficulties.

  Jude had consoled her about Michael, and she’d tried to distract him during the lead-in to his surgery. There’d been a balance of give and take. They’d been a team.

  A temporary team, apparently.

  Oh, God. She’d promised herself this wouldn’t happen again. She should have known. Unlike Michael, Jude had at least warned her. No promises. One thing she could say about Jude, he hadn’t deceived her.

  She’d done that entirely on her own.

  * * *

  I’ve left your car in the garage. Thanks for the loan.

  Emily’s last words had been delivered so coldly. Jude couldn’t believe the pain they’d caused him, worse than any physical discomfort.

  He’d totally stuffed up. He was a gold-plated fool. He’d convinced himself that he was asking her to leave for her own good. After all, a recovering patient wasn’t very good company for a beautiful, vital young woman. But he hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, or to make her feel rejected.

  In his weakened state, he couldn’t run after her, damn it, but he was desperate to make amends. He grabbed his phone and pressed her number, but his call went straight to her message bank. No doubt she’d turned her phone off.

  She was mad with him. No question.

  Angry at his stupidity, Jude almost hurled the phone across the room. He couldn’t believe he’d been so hung up about his damn eyesight that he hadn’t taken any time to consider Emily’s perspective.

  Perhaps the surgeon had removed his entire brain?

  * * *

  It was just as well he’d slept all afternoon because sleep eluded him for most of the night.

  In the morning, on the dot of seven-thirty, Jude tried Emily’s phone again, with the same result—her voice asked him to please leave a message.

  Emily, it’s Jude. Please ring back.

  He ate breakfast—baked beans, unheated, straight from the can—then he tried Emily’s phone again. He tried twice more during the day, but pride prevented him from leaving a string of pleading messages. He wasn’t going to explain or apologise to a machine. He wanted to speak to Emily.

  By evening, he still couldn’t get through.

  OK, so he’d proved spectacularly that he was a thickhead—but even he could work out that Emily was deliberately not answering his calls.

  He heated some of her chicken soup. It was delicious but each mouthful reminded him of his stupidity. In the living room he turned on the CD player. Not wanting to bother his eyes with a new selection, he let the machine replay the last disc inserted.

  It filled the room with a slow, sultry beat.

  His heart thudded.

  From now until forever he would never hear this music without thinking of Emily.

&nbs
p; From the first deep throb of the double bass he was remembering the little high kick she’d given as she came into this room wearing a scrap of copper silk and long black stockings.

  In spite of everything, Jude smiled at the memory—smiled so hard that he was damn near fighting tears, all too aware of the Emily-sized hole in his life.

  * * *

  Having learned his lesson, Jude didn’t call Emily again till the end of the week and, during that time, his body performed exactly as the surgeon had predicted. His headaches eased and then disappeared completely, and his vision gradually cleared. At his post-op check-up, he felt as well as he ever had, and the only hurdle ahead of him now was an MRI in five weeks’ time.

  This news was too good not to share, but when he tried Emily’s phone again, she still didn’t answer.

  More distressed than he could have believed, he gave in and dialled Granny Silver’s number.

  ‘Oh, Jude,’ she said brightly. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Very well, thanks.’

  ‘That is good news. I’m so pleased.’

  ‘I was hoping to speak to Emily.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Jude. Emily’s not here. She’s gone home to Wandabilla. She left three days ago.’

  ‘Three days?’ He almost choked on his disappointment. ‘What happened? Was there a problem at the office?’

  ‘More or less,’ Granny Silver said evasively.

  Jude waited for her to expand on this unsatisfactory situation, but there was silence on the other end of the line. ‘Granny, is there anything else you can tell me?’

  ‘I don’t think so, Jude. Emily decided that it made sense for her to go home now. She wanted time to get a few things for her new business sorted before she was due back at the bank.’

  Her new business.

  She’d been excited about it at the hospital, but he’d been so caught up in his own sorry mess that he hadn’t given her a chance to explain her ideas.

  Granny sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Jude. I don’t think I can tell you any more than that. I know that Emily really appreciated your company in Brisbane and she enjoyed getting to know you. We’ve been keeping you in our thoughts, and we’re hoping for a full recovery.’