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‘No!’ His denial was instant, the firmness in his voice almost getting through to her. ‘I mean, of course, I do want that, but that’s not why I’m here. The baby has nothing to do with how I feel about you.’

‘How do you feel?’ she asked, breathily.

‘I told you, you are a part of me,’ he said, dropping his head and staring at the ground between them, before lifting his eyes to hers and speaking again. ‘You think being on the station will break you? Not having you there is breaking me. Has broken me. I can’t do it, Sarah. I need you, and I have made an artform out of never needing anybody.’

Her heart stammered. She heard his words and knew he meant them, but she was still so afraid. He might need her, but Tate was terrified of love, and she couldn’t settle for anything less.

‘I don’t know how we can do this,’ she said, her own heart breaking.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s still not enough.’ She lifted a hand to his chest then, desperate to touch him. To feel his warmth, and, through his shirt, the racing of his heart. ‘Missing me isn’t the same as loving me. One you get over; the other you don’t.’ She dropped her hand quickly. ‘I feel as I did, at the hospital. I can’t be there, loving you, knowing you don’t feel that for me. It’s not your fault; it’s mine. I should have… I don’t know.’ And she didn’t. She doubted there was any way she could have been with Tate and not fallen for him. It was as inevitable as breathing.

‘My father taught me apologising is a sign of weakness.’

Sarah’s lips parted in surprise, and then anger, at the late Hunt Carrigan, who’d taught a young boy such a stupid thing.

‘All my life, that lesson has stuck. I don’t say sorry. I don’t admit mistakes. I’ve never really needed to, until now. And I finally get it. Apologising isn’t a sign of weakness, but strength. It takes strength to admit you were wrong, and to work out how to fix it.’

She almost smiled at that—his trademark confidence in full force.

‘I have tortured myself remembering that day. When you came to the hospital, I was an absolute jackass.’

‘You were honest,’ she said.

‘No!’ The word was so loud, it cut through the room. ‘You were honest; I was bullshit. I was scared, just like you said. You were offering me something more than I’ve ever allowed myself to hope for—that someone like you could love me—no, that you could love me—and I ran a mile rather than telling you I felt the same way. Because loving someone and losing them is not a pain I want to go through again. So I told myself that if I lost you, it was okay, because I didn’t love you, and I’d be fine. But I’m not fine, and I do love you, and I should have just said that, instead of putting us both through the wringer.’

She stared at him, her heart thundering through her body, as something began to flutter inside her chest. Hope. Real, genuine hope—and happiness.

‘When you came back to the station to tell me about the baby, I wanted to grab you with both hands. I know I acted the opposite, but that’s because I already resented the hold you had on me. After a few short days, I’d had two months of thinking about you, wondering about you, wanting to see you again. And no woman has ever had that effect on me. Sarah, I proposed because I thought it would keep you in my life, no matter what. Even then, I knew I had to hold onto you, and I thought marriage would offer a guarantee, of sorts. But it’s just a piece of paper; it doesn’t mean jack. Not compared to this.’

‘This?’ she whispered, her stomach twisting.

‘Love. I love you. And for the first time in my life, I’m not afraid of needing and loving, because I trust you. I trust you with my life, Sarah. I just…want you to come home with me, please.’

She closed her eyes, hope and happiness warring with common sense, which was trying to remind her this could still all be about the baby. That he could be using her feelings to manipulate her into returning. And then what?

He was giving her his heart, his trust, his future, but now she was the one who was too scared to take it. At least, to accept it blindly.

‘I need to think,’ she whispered, clearly surprising him. And hurting him. He closed his eyes, and his features tightened into a mask of pain—pain that was a shadow of all the hurts he’d endured at the hands of his mother, father and stepmother. She reached out quickly, putting her hands on his hips and shaking him there, to draw his attention to her face. ‘I love you,’ she said, staring into his eyes. ‘With my whole heart, and everything I am, I love you. But I need to make sure this is the right decision. I need to know…’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘I need to know I can trust you, like you say you trust me.’

His lips parted as he breathed out, and then something shifted through his eyes. Arrogance. Confidence. Determination.

‘You want me to prove it to you?’

‘Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I need to be sure, Tate.’

‘You need to know I won’t hurt you again.’

She bit into her lower lip and nodded slowly.

‘Sarah, my love, when I’m through with you, there’s going to be no room for doubt in your mind. Our future is worth fighting for, and I’m going to fight harder than anyone ever has. I love you.’

She smiled up at him, her heart lifting, then soaring, and she nodded. ‘I’m starting to think you just might.’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WHEN TATE CARRIGAN turned his mind to something, heaven help anyone who decided to stand in his way. He set up camp in Sydney, telling Sarah there wasn’t much he could do on the property anyway, given the state of his body. After sharing a meal at her apartment, and learning that she walked early each morning, he started arriving, asking if he could join her. What a blessing it was to take those steps with Tate by her side, instead of forlornly wandering Rose Bay and missing him more than she could put into words!