Where the Heart Lies (11 page)

“That’s quite a change of heart,” she remarked, remembering what he’d told her about the baby Kathryn had lost:
That was a big part of our decision to go our separate ways
.

Clay nodded. Gently he stroked Jordan’s arm, her skin stippling under his fingertips. “No one could be more surprised than I am, but I can’t wait for the experience of raising a child. Starting right from the day’s he’s born, watching him grow, seeing his first steps and taking him to his first day of kindergarten. It’s more exciting to me, more meaningful, than anything I could have done in my career.”

His impassioned words warmed Jordan’s heart and pierced it at the same time. It was exactly what she’s wanted him to say eleven years ago; it was exactly what Richard had said
he
wanted—and it was the reason Richard had left her and Molly.

When she didn’t reply, Clay continued, his voice vibrant with expectation. “And this weekend, seeing how Molly favours you, not just in her looks but in her gestures and facial expressions—I can’t help picturing what my own child might be like.”

“And whether he might take after your dad?” Jordan ventured, recalling his words at dinner that evening—what he really wanted was a son he could name after his father, one that might resemble Liam McAdam as Alice resembled Clay’s Grammy.

“It crossed my mind.” Smiling softly, he stroked her face, his fingertips lightly tracing the curve of her cheek. “But mainly the child I’ve envisioned is a combination of you and me, Jordan. I know it sounds crazy to think about that when we’ve only been reunited for a couple of weeks, but I can’t help myself. All I can think about is a future with you.”

She stared at him, his words deepening the ache in her chest as she understood that the future he imagined wasn’t going to happen, no matter how much either of them might yearn for it. And she realized now that she craved the fantasy just as much, knowing it was just that—merely a fantasy.

Drawing her knees up to her chest, Jordan dropped her gaze to her sand-covered feet. “Clay, you don’t understand.”

He bent to tenderly kiss her shoulder. “You do want more children, don’t you? I just assumed—”

“Very much,” she said truthfully. “I’m just afraid…” She didn’t know how to end her sentence.

“Are you worried that Molly would take second place to our kids?” he asked. “I promise you that would never happen. I can’t wait to get to know her better. I wouldn’t interfere with her relationship with Richard, but I could be the one who’s there every day, the guy who helps her with her homework and drives her to her riding lessons. I think she needs that.”

Jordan’s heart pounded fast and heavy. “It’s not that.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” He studied her face, puzzled.

“Falling in love with you again,” she said quietly. “Getting hurt.”

Clay took hold of her shoulders, turning her toward him so that she would meet his gaze. “I won’t hurt you. Not ever again.”

She blinked back tears that burned behind her eyes. “Things are different now.”

“Listen, Jordan,” he said ardently. “I’ve been telling you how at home I feel here. But it’s not just this island. It’s because I’m here with you. For years I’ve been running all over the world looking for something to fill my heart. All along, all I needed was the one thing I left behind.”

Before she could reply his arms encircled her, drawing her close so that her breasts molded to his chest, and the chill in the air was no match for the searing heat of his body. Her heart battering fiercely, she could do no more than stare into the smoky depths of Clay’s eyes. The moment his mouth touched hers she let her eyelids fall closed. Soft and tentative at first, his lips glided over hers, and she relented readily to the pleasure of his kiss.

Reeling with desire, Jordan wound her hands over his back, gripping his shoulders. She barely noticed herself falling back against the sand, pulling Clay down with her, the solid weight of his body covering hers.

Some time later he drew back from the kiss, his breathing ragged, and studied her face as she smiled up at him, catching her own breath.

He grasped her hand and pressed it to his chest, holding her gaze. “Jordan, I still love you,” he told her softly. “All these years, I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Chapter Eight

Jordan froze.
I love you, too
,
Clay McAdam; I always have
. The words screamed in her brain, but she couldn’t bring them to her lips.

She cursed herself silently. How had she let herself fall in love with him again? It was just what she’d been trying to avoid. With Clay’s heart drumming a steady beat against her hand, she searched frantically for a response, finally spluttering, “This is a lot for you to spring on me all at once, Clay—talking about our future children when we’re barely back together. My head is spinning.”

He kissed her once more, cradling her face in his palm, and then paused again, his lips curving into a wistful smile. “You’re right. I didn’t mean to say any of that tonight. But I can’t help feeling like I’ve wasted a lifetime being apart from you. I don’t want to lose another minute.”

“What is it you want, Clay?”

His brow furrowed quizzically. “I want you.”

She shook her head. “There has to be more than that. The last time we were together, we knew we loved each other, we desired each other, but it wasn’t enough.”

“Like you said, things are different now.” Clay stroked her cheek tenderly, his gaze unwavering. “I’m not going to run off to the other side of the world. I’m here with you, for as long as you want me.”

As Jordan opened her mouth to protest further he smothered her words with another deep, lingering kiss. She wilted in his arms, her thoughts scattering as she clung desperately to him. Any awareness of the passage of time was quickly washed away by the growing hunger burning within her, a hunger that had been simmering for years and, now awakened, could only be satisfied in Clay’s embrace.

At the same time that his hand found its way to the buttons of her cardigan, she slid her palms under his shirt to glide over the smooth, warm skin of his chest, her fingers tracing the enticingly defined contours that tapered up to broad, powerful shoulders. She felt like a teenager with her first boyfriend, scrabbling for a furtive moment of intimacy, long desired and much denied—and realized with dim amusement that she
was
with her first serious boyfriend.

“Do you remember the first time we made love on the beach?” Clay wondered, unfastening the buttons of her bodice as she tilted her head to invite his tantalizing kisses against the curve of her jaw.

“How could I forget?” Jordan smiled at the memory, letting it flood her body with the warmth of remembered pleasure. She welcomed Clay’s hand beneath the fabric of her dress, his finger eliciting an electric thrill on her skin as they skimmed her ribcage, and then slid under her bra to caress her breast. She pulled in a sharp breath, trembling under his touch as fresh heat coiled in her belly.

“It was so dark that night,” he went on, “we had to find our way through touch. It was cool like this, and you were shivering.” Releasing her breast, his hand drifted downward to settle on her thigh, nudging her skirt upward. The cool night air touching her bare legs did nothing to stifle the liquid fire pulsing through her limbs. “But your skin was so warm, and I remember the wild patter of your pulse when I kissed your throat.”

As Clay pressed his mouth to the hollow of her neck, recreating the remembered sensation, Jordan moaned softly, shifting on the sand to fit herself more closely against him. His mouth finding hers, he kissed her with mounting urgency, his tongue teasing her lips apart to deepen the kiss.

She realized that she’d never desired anyone else like this, not even Richard. She’d enjoyed the closeness of lovemaking with both of her former husbands, but the passion had never been this intense, consuming her mind and her body until she lost all sense of time and place and knew only that she would go mad if—

A sharp snapping sound nearby made her jump, and she abruptly disengaged from Clay’s embrace, turning her head to stare into the darkness behind them.

“What was that?” she whispered anxiously.

“Probably a deer,” Clay said thickly, trying to gather her back to him.

Jordan stiffened. “What if it wasn’t? What if it was one of the girls?”

Clay peered into the trees for a moment, shaking his head. “I don’t think so. They’re all asleep.”

Breathing raggedly, Jordan met his gaze, still ablaze with desire. She let out a gentle moan of anguish, aching for him to the tips of her toes, but at the same time frightened by the ferocity of her longing for him and knowing she mustn’t give in to it. Nothing good could come from letting a moment’s passion override one’s reason. Disregarding the consequences didn’t make them any less inevitable.

“All the same,” she said, shifting herself into a sitting position, “I think we should go back to the house before this goes any further, don’t you?”

“Jordan—”

“Didn’t you say you weren’t going to try to seduce me?” she added playfully.

Clay smiled resignedly, letting out a shuddery breath. “Yes, I did. And I suppose you’re right, we should go back.”

Brushing the sand off his jeans, he stood slowly, then offered Jordan his hand and pulled her to her feet. She was grateful for the help, finding her legs barely steady enough to hold her weight.

They walked back to the house in silence, passing tents that were just as still and quiet as before. The living room was empty now, but someone had left a light on for them. Glancing at her watch, Jordan was surprised to find it was after midnight.

She followed Clay upstairs, creeping slowly along the carpet to avoid waking anyone. When they stopped outside the door to Jordan’s room, Clay grasped her hand and bent close to her ear.

“My room is right across from yours,” he whispered. “If you care to join me.”

Before Jordan could reply, he turned and crept away to his own room, closing the door softly behind him.

Jordan scurried into her room on trembling legs. She quickly changed into her nightgown, turned out the light and crawled under the covers of her bed. Staring up into the dark, she waited for her pummeling heart to slow to a normal speed.

What was Clay thinking, asking her to join him in his room? Did he really think she would sneak into his bed, with his mother and sister sleeping in adjacent rooms? She could only imagine the embarrassment of being discovered in the morning, having fallen asleep in each other’s arms, by someone innocently walking in to rouse Clay for breakfast.

Sighing, Jordan flopped onto her side and forced her eyes closed. A good night’s sleep would make everything clearer. But she couldn’t manage to relax, her nerves still abuzz with the thrill of Clay’s touch. The more she tried to empty her mind, the more he barged into it—until all she could think of was Clay in his room across the hall, lying alone in his bed. She recalled that he used to sleep stark naked, and before she knew it that image had planted itself firmly in her brain. Her imagination wandered further, conjuring a scenario that found her creeping into his room, touching his shoulder to wake him, and letting him draw her under the covers to peel off her nightgown. Together in his warm bed, they’d have the rest of the night to rediscover each other with delectably slow kisses and caresses.

Stop it, Jordan
, she demanded silently, clutching her pillow furiously.
Stop torturing yourself and get some sleep. Tomorrow it’s back to reality for you.

As she attempted to drop off to sleep, lying still for long periods and then tossing violently, the night passed with unbearable slowness. Finally, just after two a.m., she slid out of bed to use the bathroom.

On her way back to her room, she paused in the hallway, staring at the door to Clay’s room. Finally she reached for the doorknob and turned it slowly, silently, and then pushed the door open with even more care.

I’ll only see if he’s awake, too, and maybe we can talk
, she told herself, knowing full well that to sit next to Clay McAdam on his bed in the dark and merely talk was a near impossibility.

Peering into the darkened room, her gaze fell upon a shape in the bed. Clay was lying on his side, covered to his waist with a sheet, his chest exposed. Moonlight gleaming through the window illuminated the smooth, flawless skin of his arm and back. Jordan watched him for a minute, not realizing she was holding her breath, and knowing she mustn’t wake him. None of the scenarios her mind had summoned while she struggled to sleep, pleasant as they were, could be made real—because once she was in Clay’s arms, it would be impossible not to want to hold onto him forever.

Closing the door quietly, she crept back to her own bed.

“Clay, are you going back to the ferry the same time as my mom and me?” Molly asked hopefully between bites of pancake.

Clay looked up from his plate, smiling at the little blonde girl seated across from him. Everyone at the table was eating ravenously, resulting in a meal that was oddly quiet considering the number of young girls gathered there. It didn’t hurt that Dean’s famous cottage cheese pancakes were on the menu this morning, and they were being consumed as quickly as he could cook them up in the kitchen.

“I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondered,” Molly said, hesitating a moment with a shy sideways glance, “if I might be able to ride with you in your sports car. Everybody else is going back with Alice in her mom’s mini-van, but I’m just with my mom, so I was hoping ...”

“I don’t see why not. If it’s okay with your mother.”

“Cool, I can’t wait.” Molly’s face glowed as she speared her last piece of syrup-soaked pancake with her fork, and Clay felt his heart constrict. Something about Molly stirred a warm affection in him. Her slate-gray eyes, as bright and expressive as her mother’s, were accentuated by a penetrating gaze and soft smile. Clay suffered a brief pang of regret that she wasn’t his child. He realized in some small way he’d been mourning the loss of that belief the last couple of weeks, and though he tried to push those feelings aside, occasionally they emerged as a brief, dull ache in his chest.

Looking past him, Molly suddenly straightened in her chair and shouted, “Hi, Mom! It’s about time you got up.”

Clay turned to see Jordan emerging from the staircase, making her way languidly toward the dining room. Wearing Capri pants and a pale pink blouse, she looked lovely but exhausted, her eyelids heavy as she offered her daughter a wan smile.

“Good morning,” Clay said.

Jordan glanced at him only briefly. “Morning.”

“Would you like some pancakes, Jordan?” Sheryl offered from the end of the table.

“Yes, please.”

As she transferred the last two pancakes from the platter to a plate, Sheryl glanced back and forth between Jordan and Clay, eyeing them with suspicion. Did his sister imagine, Clay wondered, that Jordan was drowsy because she’d spent the night with him? Assessing Sheryl’s narrowed eyes for a moment, he decided he really didn’t care what she thought.

He turned his attention back to Jordan, who stood awkwardly beside him, as all the chairs at the table were occupied, as were those in the kitchen.

“Sleep well?” he asked playfully.

“I had a bit of insomnia,” she admitted, yawning against her hand. As Sheryl handed over her plate, Jordan’s face reddened visibly, and after a quiet “Thank you” she clamped her lower lip firmly between her teeth.

Clay suppressed a grin. Poor Jordan, still as bashful as he remembered. As much as he’d wanted her to come to his bed during the night, he would’ve been surprised if she’d done it. He’d made the suggestion on impulse, having used every ounce of self-control he possessed to abandon their embrace on the beach. Even standing next to her now made his pulse quicken.

Emerging from the kitchen with a pitcher of orange juice, his mother greeted Jordan warmly and ushered her into the living room to eat at the coffee table together.

“I’m sorry you have to go back today,” Lorraine told her brightly. “Molly wanted to see the shell middens, and we’ve run out of time. And you didn’t go riding, did you? You and Molly should both come back next month.”

“That’s a kind offer,” he heard Jordan reply hesitantly from the sofa, with a furtive glance at Clay. He cast her a quick wink, and she looked away, the colour in her cheeks deepening. He couldn’t conceal his grin this time, or the wicked pleasure he derived from Sheryl’s scowl at the end of the table. No matter his sister’s opinion, Clay intended to keep Jordan in his life.

Jordan’s intentions, however, remained a mystery to him. He couldn’t wait to be alone with her again and find out what was going through her mind.

After breakfast Jordan disappeared upstairs. While the girls relaxed in the living room, flipping channels on the television and chatting amongst themselves, Molly broke away from the group and approached Clay as he cleared dishes from the table.

“I think we’re leaving pretty soon,” she said.

Clay glanced at his watch. “Me, too. Did you still want that ride?”

Molly nodded. “Will you be coming back here over the summer?” she asked, following him into the kitchen where he proceeded to stack the dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’m sure I will,” he said. “My new job doesn’t start until fall.”

Molly beamed. “Good. I mean, I still want to see the shell middens. And go kayaking again. And riding.”

“Sure, anytime.”

“And I’m sure Mom would come with me,” she added, her expression hopeful. “She really likes it here.”

“She’s welcome, too,” Clay assured her, wondering just how much Molly had picked up of the attraction between him and her mother.

When Jordan descended the stairs, she was carrying her overnight bag.

“There you are,” she said, catching sight of her daughter. “Are you ready to go?”

“Mom, Clay said I could ride back in his car. Is that okay?”

Jordan glanced at him. “We don’t want you to have to hurry back on our account.”

“It’s no problem, I’m ready to go anytime.” Clay found her manner strangely formal. In fact, her unease this morning was beginning to bother him. The more he opened his heart to her, it seemed, the more he was left to guess what Jordan was thinking. Even last night on the beach, when there had been no question of her desire for him, she’d left him guessing about her feelings. After he’d declared his love to her, she’d made no such declaration in return. But physical attraction and affection, he knew, didn’t always go hand in hand.

“All right, I guess you can ride with Clay, but just to the ferry,” Jordan agreed at last. “As long as he doesn’t go too fast.”

“Was I going too fast yesterday?” he inquired mildly, thinking of their drive to the estate sale—but from Jordan’s startled expression he guessed she was remembering something different.

“No, not at all. You were excellent. I mean, you’re an excellent driver,” she said briskly, her cheeks glowing a deep red.

Molly bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet, oblivious to the nuances of the exchange. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll get my bag.”

As the ten-year-old scurried off, Jordan and Clay remained facing each other in silence for a long moment. Clay waited for her to say something more, but she simply looked at him, smiling stiffly, her luminous green eyes betrayed nothing.

“Let me take this to the car for you,” he said finally, reaching for her bag.

“Thanks, I can manage.”

“Jordan, listen, I—”

“Got my stuff,” chimed Molly, swinging her backpack on one shoulder as she grasped her mother’s hand. “Come on, everyone’s outside already. I want to say goodbye before we go.”

Without a second glance at him, Jordan let Molly pull her past Clay and out the door into the front yard, as though she couldn’t get away from him quickly enough. But now, he thought ruefully, she’d be stuck with him at least until they got to the ferry.

Sheryl peeked in the door, signaling to him. “Come on, Clay, we’re leaving in a few minutes.” Her brow creased as she studied him, standing in the dining room alone with his hands thrust in his pockets. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Sheryl took a step toward him. “I know it’s none of my business, but did something happen between you and Jordan last night? She hardly looked at you this morning. She was practically searching for a hole to crawl into.”

“Not now, Sheryl,” Clay muttered. How he’d hate for his sister to be right. She’d maintained from the start that inviting Jordan back into his life would be a grave mistake. And yet, it was because of Sheryl’s misguided assumption about Molly’s paternity that he’d come into contact with Jordan again in the first place.

“Clearly you’re falling for her again, it’s written all over your face,” Sheryl said sympathetically.

“Do we have to talk about this?” he barked back, turning away from her.

“Okay, sorry. I love you, Clay, that’s all. I hate seeing you hurt.” She squeezed his arm briefly before heading back outside, leaving him alone.

Clay blew out a long breath, feeling his jaw tighten. The words “I love you” came so much more easily to his sister than they did to Jordan, at least in regard to him. If she were hiding as big a secret as she had a decade ago, this time he wouldn’t let her push him away with evasions and half-truths. He knew one thing for sure—Jordan Lewis had a decision to make before the day was through. She would tell him exactly where they stood with each other, or there would be nothing more to say.

Chapter Nine

Jordan gripped the steel rail tightly, as she leaned over it to watch the dark water crashing against the ferry’s white hull. Feeling Clay’s gaze on her, she glanced up to catch sight of him sidling closer to her. His hand came to rest on her shoulder and then drifted down to the small of her back, eliciting warm sparks of sensation that danced along her limbs. Though she’d been craving his touch since he left her at her bedroom door the previous night, she shrank away from him.

“Molly might see,” she muttered, turning to look for any sign of her daughter on the deck.

“She just left to get a snack a minute ago,” Clay said. “Don’t you want me to touch you?”

“It’s not that. It’s just too soon for, you know, public displays of affection.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked, frustration colouring his voice. “You’ve barely talked to me all morning.”

She looked at his face, noting with dismay the frown etched into his handsome features. “Sorry. I didn’t want to give anything away to the others. I was afraid it showed all over my face that we mauled each other on the beach last night.”

Clay’s frown softened at once. “Let them think what they like. It’s none of their business.”

“You can imagine my horror when I woke up this morning to find my bed full of sand,” she said.

Clay laughed. “Me, too. It took me half an hour to get rid of the evidence.”

“So you
do
care what they think.”

“I care what you think. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” A smile played on his lips. “You’ve been blushing all morning.”

“I have not,” she said, feeling herself redden yet again.

Clay’s smile broadened. “It’s okay. A little blush in your cheeks is becoming.”

Covering her cheeks with her palms, Jordan turned to sag against the rail. “Clay, it isn’t funny.”

“Are you sorry about what happened between us last night?” he asked, the humour fading from his voice.

“Nothing really happened.”

She felt him stiffen beside her. “Funny, it felt like something to me,” he said tightly. “Something extraordinary.”

Regretting her words, Jordan turned and gripped his arm. “That’s not what I meant. Of course it was wonderful. It was a perfectly natural thing to happen, the two of us being lonely, and with our past relationship—”

“It wasn’t about being lonely, Jordan. Not for me. I meant every word I said to you last night.”

“I know you did,” she replied, unsure whether she was trying to rationalize the situation for him or persuade herself that it hadn’t meant as much as it did.

Ignoring her protests, Clay gathered her against him, lowering his head to claim her mouth with his own. Taken by surprise, Jordan made no effort to resist. As his lips moved over hers with languid softness, she let her eyelids fall closed and wilted against him. His hand traveled up her spine and threaded into her hair, cradling her head as his other arm tightened around her waist.

Jordan felt a mounting excitement course through her blood, stripping away her sense of time and place; she felt herself tumbling wildly, as though they had plunged together into the depths of the ocean below. It took considerable effort to break away from the embrace, which she did abruptly, maintaining her grasp on Clay’s sleeve while the world around her swam back into focus.

“What’s bothering you?” With his palm he smoothed Jordan’s wind-swept hair away from her face so he could meet her eyes. “Why do you keep distancing yourself from me?”

“It’s complicated,” she muttered, finally dropping her hand from his sleeve.

“How complicated can it be?” Clay demanded, his voice loud enough to cause a nearby couple to glance at them. “I’ve told you I love you, I want to be with you. Now it’s your turn to lay your cards on the table. If you don’t feel the same way about me, just tell me now.”

Gripping the rail again, Jordan hesitated. Why hadn’t she just told him the truth in the first place?
Clay, I can’t have any more children. Do you still want me?
She’d been too afraid of his answer, and just as she’d done eleven years ago, she’d rebuffed him before he could reject her. Again she’d withheld the truth to protect herself.