“I love you, Caitlyn,”he said on a gasp, sucking air and collapsing to his elbows, trapping her beneath him as if he could hold her this way forever. “I love you.”
Caitlyn could have stayed cocooned in Kurt’s embrace for an eternity. How this strong, intelligent, breathtaking man of integrity could love her, she would never fathom.
Nor could she fully articulate why she couldn’t give him the words back. She hadn’tlied about being broken. More like defective. What if her watered-down version of love wasn’t enough for him? What if she never learned to give fully of herself? A man like Kurt was entitled to so much more than a second-rate lover. He deserved a chance to find the kind of happiness another woman—a normal woman—could give him.
A better woman than her.
She fought against the sting of tears andkissed him softly, sweetly, and thoroughly, hoarding memories of his taste, the rough slide of his tongue, his masculine scent.
He raised himself onto his elbows and she traced the outline of his tattoo.
He smoothed the hair from her forehead, pressing his lips lightly to her brow as he eased from her body, leaving her empty and aching.
They stared at one another, her heart fluttering in distressat his expression. His espresso eyes lacked their usual bright intensity. His brows, the muscles at the outer corners of his eyes, his mouth, all pulled down as if too heavy for him to muster even a hint of a smile.
Without a word, he rolled off her, slid to the floor, took a few things from his bag, and walked on his stumps through the bedroom door and into the bathroom.
This wasn’t how shewanted their time together to end, but no matter how many times they made love, eventually they’d have to say goodbye. Caitlyn rolled to her stomach and pressed her face into the bedspread that was now marked with his scent.
Panic rampaged through her veins. How could she give him up?
How could she not?
They spent the next two hours avoiding topics of any gravity, eating lunch, and playingwith Rockley before Caitlyn drove Kurt to the airport.
Their parting was far less enthusiastic or demonstrative than his arrival. Ironic given that they were supposedly faking their attraction back then, and now he was half of her soul.
He gave her a far-too-quick kiss on the lips and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. “Take care of yourself, Braveheart.”
Then he was gone, lost in thecrowd of tourists before she could formulate a response.
