Page 15 of Prognosis Irreconcilable Differences

Just like old times.

Dangerous. Very dangerous waters. He had much to achieve in the next few years, and letting himself be seduced back into the past wasn’t on the agenda. This kiss was merely trying to prove a point. It took all his willpower to wrench his lips from hers.

Jacqueline gasped, and mewed at his departure — she couldn’t help it. The noise had been dragged from her as he deprived her of his mouth. Their breathing was loud in the silence between them, ragged with unfinished business. She couldn’t think, couldn’t talk. She could barely see.

Nathan placed his forehead against hers, fighting for control of his breath, his pulse. Her warm brown gaze had turned molten with undiluted desire. He placed his hands on either side of her face and looked deeply into her eyes.

‘Now they say reconciled and loving it.’

Jacqueline closed her eyes, fighting to regain control of her breathing. She placed a hand over his and gently removed it. She pushed off the glass and stepped away from him on shaky legs.

‘Forget it. I’m not sleeping with you, Nate.’

It was his turn to press his face to the glass, cooling his fevered brow. ‘Your body tells me a different story.’

Jacqueline gave a harsh laugh, suddenly feeling as cold as the sheet glass deep in her chest. She felt for a nearby chair and sank into its plush leather depths. ‘Lucky for me my brain doesn’t reside in my pants, then.’

Nathan felt too destabilised to give a snappy comeback, or even defend his sex. He turned to face her. ‘Jacq—’

‘No, Nate.’ She shook her head vigorously and held out her hand to ward him off as he reached for her. ‘I’m here. And I’ll play my role. But this reconciliation is only an act. If you kiss me again like that I’m leaving. Debt or no debt. Divorce or no divorce.’

Nathan watched as her heated gaze hardened. He’d seen that look before and knew it brooked no argument. ‘If you insist.’

Jacqui nodded and stood. ‘Thank you.’

Nathan watched her back as she moved away from him. ‘We are going to need to be convincing.’

His voice pulled her up short, and she gave a soft snort as she twisted to face him. ‘Oh, I’ll be convincing.’

He didn’t move as she turned away, slowly retreating. And despite her earlier warning a worm of naked lust trilled through him at the promise in her words.

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Surprisingly, Jacquelineslept like a baby in Nathan’s guestroom’s king-sized bed. One night up with a sick horse followed by two more up with a sick naked man, had taken their toll. Not even the memory of that steamy kiss, burnt as indelibly into her lips as the memory of him into her DNA, was enough to keep her awake.

It was, however, the first thing she thought about when she woke the next morning. She stretched, and sighed at the futility of her erotic reminiscence as the luxury of the eight-hundred-thread-count sheets caressed her skin. He could kiss her like that every minute of every day, do that thing he did in bed that sent her into the stratosphere, and it still wouldn’t erase the fundamental differences in their lifestyles.

They were walking a different path now.

Maybe she’d been kidding herself that they’d ever walked side by side?

Jacqueline arose, pulling on her gown, and wandered out to the lounge area, her stomach growling. She padded into the kitchen to find a note propped against a chrome wire fruit basket laden with fat red apples. Nathan’s bold, slashing hieroglyphs — as if he had scored the paper with a sword dipped in ink — stood stark against the thick quality stationery.

Fresh croissants on the table. Dinner at 7:30. Nathan.

Jacqui picked it up and ran her fingertips over the commanding strokes of black print. The card felt opulent in her grasp, rich and plush, and she remembered with fondness the smutty notes he’d used to leave her anchored on the fridge door via a cheap magnet souvenir from a pharmaceutical rep.

Except he’d signed those, ‘Nate’. And there’d always been ‘X’s and ‘O’s.

For a crazy second she held the note to her nose and inhaled. But then her stomach growled, and another scent called to her.

She found the croissants through smell alone. The fluffy pastry melted on her tongue. Damn the man for remembering her weakness for flaky breakfast treats! It reminded her of their honeymoon in Paris at a seedy hostel, and of how very far away she currently lived from any kind of patisserie.

She was shocked to discover it was ten o’clock when she’d eaten her fill. She stood at the huge glassed wall, looking across at the panoramic display of multimillion-dollar, multi-storey coastal real estate and the magnificent ocean vista.

She supposed she should have been impressed, but the day stretched ahead of her. A whole day with nothing to do but think about Nate and that kiss.

No, no, no.

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