Authors: Melissa James
“No,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Tim retorted gently yet with grim strength. “Lissa-girl, it’s time we had a talk. I’ve put off telling you this for ten years, because I was too weak. But you’ll hear it now because if you don’t, you’re gonna lose him. And it’ll be my fault.”
“No, Tim,” she said sadly. “Not your fault. Mine.”
“Yeah, well, that, too.” He grinned to soften his blunt words. “Baby doll, you became a woman before your time. You’ve worked at jobs you hate and sacrificed your wants for your parents and me, especially after Alice married Brad and left for Sydney, then for Jenny and the boys. You gave up your life for all of us, but when it comes to Mitch you’re acting like a kid. You won’t look at the truth.” He drew a deep breath. “Lissa, he loves you like no man has or will, even me. He worships the ground you walk on.”
“I’m his ideal woman,” she finished, in soft bitterness.
“And what the hell’s so wrong about that?” Tim demanded. “Didn’t we both idealize Mitch? Didn’t we worship him? Should he resent us for that? Did it stop us from loving the person he is?”
The absolute truth of that stunned her. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“I don’t get you, Liss. You’ve spent seventeen years of your life in love with him, so why are you pushing happiness away? Why are you punishing him for what he can’t help? Who taught him to love? Wasn’t it us? A pair of dumb kids who didn’t know who they were? People who are as much dreamers as he is? So why should it surprise you that he wove a few ideals and dreams around you? You can’t honestly think he’ll stop loving you if you fall off the pedestal. Liss, you fell off it years ago when you went for safety and married me, and he still loves you. You’ve been apart twelve years and he still loves you so much he’s gonna walk away because he thinks it’s what you want. What the hell else do you need? How much more real does it get for a man than that?”
“I…don’t know,” she croaked. “You’re the man. You tell me how real love gets, because I don’t have any experience at it.”
“Damn it, Liss, cut it out,” Tim suddenly snarled. “Stop torturing yourself over us! So I couldn’t make love to you. If I felt wrong touching you, it wasn’t because you’re not pretty, or that I didn’t want you. You want to know why I couldn’t touch you? It was guilt! I knew you and Mitch belonged together and I destroyed it. I broke the heartswo people I loved best in the world and didn’t have the guts to change it, because it meant accepting myself for what I was, which was too bloody scary. I took the coward’s way out and left you feeling like crap, and it
kills
me to see you still feeling like crap, twelve years later! But I won’t stand by and watch you push Mitch away, from fear. It wasn’t him that hurt you, it was a dumb bloke called Tim Carroll. Mitch isn’t me, and he’s not your dad, getting everything he wants at your expense. He
loves
you, Liss. So don’t ruin your life—and Mitch’s life—because of me.”
She flinched with Tim’s spot-on assessment of what she’d been through the past twelve years…and what she was doing now. “It’s not your fault,” she said quietly.
Tim waved it aside impatiently. “In a world that’s treated him like a bloody chocolate wrapper to use and throw away, you and I loved him for what he is inside. Do you realize how bloody hard it must have been for him to love you the way he does and not say anything?
We
have families, people who taught us acceptance and security, who’ll always be there for us. What did Mitch ever have but us? How could he come between us? How could he tell you he loved you? If you loved him, he lost me. If you didn’t love him he lost us both. All the love he’d ever known, gone in a second. Would you have risked it, Liss?
Did
you ever risk it?”
Lissa bit her lip, feeling tears of exhaustion and shame rising up. “Tim—”
“But
he
did, didn’t he? He told you he loves you, I know he did. With everything to lose—again—Mitch had the guts to risk it all. You and I never did, unless we were safe. And I’d say you shoved it back in his face, by the look of him, just like I did at our wedding. He’s hurting so bad, and you—”
Defeated, she snuffled back tears. “Tim…don’t…”
Tim’s rant came to a screaming halt. He kissed her hand linked in his. “I’m a bloody idiot, lecturing you when you’re sick. What a jerk. I’ve just been holding this in for so long, figuring you’d work it out yourself one day.”
She gave him a weak smile. “What, me? The original Blind Freddy? I didn’t even believe him when he said he loved me. What ever made you think I’d stop playing the martyr long enough to try a bit of self-examination? I was too busy blaming the world for my awful life. I needed you to put me over your knee and spank me for this years ago, Mr. Carroll.”
He kissed her forehead. “Good girl.”
She swiped at her tears. “Now, can you go get Mitch for me and take the kids for something disgusting for an hour or so? I think I have a bit of groveling to do—” her eyes twinkled “—and a reluctant fiancé to propose to.”
Tim caressed her cheek. “It’s a tough job, but I think I can handle it, with Ron’s help.” He got to his feet.
“Say hi to Ron for me…and…and thank him for coming.”
He smiled at her. “Just another in your legion of fans, my sweet thing.”
Then he left the room, and Lissa, fretting over what she would say to Mitch, fell asleep.
“Y
ou said she was awake, Tim. What is this, a stupid joke? She’s still out, still sick because of me!”
Mitch’s low, strained voice stirred Lissa from her light doze. She opened her eyes and saw him, one wrist encased in plaster, healing bruises all over his face. “It’s no joke…and I’ve told you more than once to stop blaming yourself, McCluskey. Don’t you ever listen to me?” She stretched and yawned, feeling the painful twinge in her back. “Ow. I think I should leave
the aerobics until the hole closes over completely. You know, dear, not listening to your wife is a lousy way to start any marriage.”
Tim snorted, but the frenzied worry in Mitch’s eyes flattened with her gentle teasing. “We’re not getting married.”
She lifted a brow. “Wanna bet?”
Tim grinned. “I think this is my cue to, um, take the kids for ice cream.” He opened the door to the private room. “Mitch, my old mate, may as well give in now. Never argue with a woman who’s finally decided what she wants—especially not this woman. You don’t have the guns for it. I know Liss from way back.”
“Get out of here, will you?” Lissa demanded, her gaze fixed on Mitch. “No offence, Tim, but you’ve interrupted our love life a few dozen times too many.”
Tim gave his rich, full-bodied chuckle. “You’re right. I’m outta here.” The door swished as it closed behind him.
Mitch stood tense near the door, looking as if he wanted to bolt but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a woman who’s been given a second chance at life,” she replied softly. “A woman who’s not giving up on the man she wants without a fight.”
“I can’t take it, Liss.” His undamaged hand, curled in a balled fist, shoved into his pocket so hard he ripped the lining. “When you were shot—” His face twisted in anguish.
“I love you,” she said quietly.
He jerked back as if she’d stabbed him to the heart; his eyes were dark, tormented. “Baby, I’m no good for you. I don’t deserve you. You weren’t in any danger until I came home. You’ve been threatened, attacked, separated from the kids, had to bolt the country—you were shot far from help. You almost died, and none of it would have happened if I hadn’t been near you!”
“I wanted to be there, Mitch. I wanted to share your life.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to it,” he muttered savagely. “Welcome to the life of Mitch McCluskey, the kid who doesn’t even know his real name. Welcome to the mess and blood and mud and the worst forms of hatred and abuse in the human race. It’s where I came from, where I’ll always be…where I belong. You better—the best life can offer. So run, baby. Run as far and as fast as you can. Keep yourself safe—keep Jenny safe—keep Matt and Luke safe. Keep away from me, all of you, even the boys. They deserve better than the freakin’ mess I put them in all these years, just by being their father!”
She felt his agony—the self-hate clawing at his very soul. Denial was his only lifeline. He had to reject her, or face the fact that he couldn’t save her from hurt. He couldn’t protect his family from the worst that life could throw at them. One day he might even have to watch helplessly as the people he loved beyond life died. The only people he had in the world.
What could she do?
Take the risk. Step outside your safety zone for once and give him what he needs!
She gulped. “All my life, I’ve tried to make sure I was safe, Mitch—safe in Breckerville, safe with Tim, safe from the pain of loving you. Protected from the world. It hasn’t made me feel any better about myself. I’ve never felt happy from the day you left me until you came back. Until you kissed me. Until you opened your world to me. Don’t you understand?” she cried as he shook his head, his eyes hollow, so haunted with guilt. “I’m not Sleeping Beauty. I’m an ordinary woman with needs—and I need you. I
love
you, Mitch! I want to be in your world and you in mine. Being safe doesn’t guarantee my happiness. Being with you does! It’s the closest I’ll be to Heaven in this world, having you love me—sharing a life with you and our kids!”
He pulled his hand from his jeans pocket and tugged at his uncollared T-shirt as though it strangled him. “I’m…sorry,” he said awkwardly, and turned to the door. “You’ll find someone else.” The words were halting, choked, as though everything inside him rose up in rebellion against the words he spoke.
He opened the door.
“No! Mitch!” In blind panic, she scrambled off the bed and tried to chase him, stumbling as a shot of intense pain hit her back, chest and arm. She cried aloud and fell to her knees, her IV trolley crashing on top of her.
He flew back to her, his face etched in terror. “Lissa! Oh, God, baby, don’t. You’ll rip open your wound or hurt your lung!” Despite his plastered wrist, he swept her into his arms, untangled the IV line and carried her back to bed, laying her down with exquisite tenderness. “Does it hurt?”
Tears pouring down her face, she whispered, “My heart hurts, Mitch. Fix it for me. Tell me you’re not leaving me. Please.”
His face twisted; he stepped back. “I’m not leaving you. I can’t bring myself to leave this time—not when I know how it feels to be with you. I’ll be at Old Man Taggart’s place, where I belong. Lissa’s ghost,” he jeered himself bitterly, “watching from the window of a fallen-down rat trap while you find life and love and everything you’re entitled to. It’s a fitting end for ever believing I had the right to make you love me.”
She ached and hurt for him, her gallant, limping hero. She ached with love and fierce protectiveness. “You didn’t make me love you,” she said softly, once the pain subsided. “I fell in love with you of my own free will. Why t you deserve that, Mitch? What separates you from the rest of the human race, that you can’t be loved like any other man?”
“I’m nothing,” he grated harshly. “Just a hooker’s unwanted bastard pushed around from place to place, good only for unpaid labor. I don’t give a damn about the title I’ve got or the work I do—I’m still the baby on the church steps, the kid who latched on to you and wouldn’t let go. I took you, ate and drank up your love, treated you like you were mine. You deserve so much more than that.” His eyes met hers, hard, hurting. “You deserve more than I can give you. When you were shot, I realized what the hell I’d done to you by bringing you into my sordid life. The princess and the pauper.” His face filled with self-loathing. “Go find your prince, baby. He sure as hell ain’t me.”
“I’m not a princess, Mitch, even though that’s how I’ve always felt around you,” she said quietly. “I’m just an ordinary woman who wants to be loved by the man she loves. I love our kids dearly, but I need you. You’re the most beautiful thing to ever come into my life. I don’t give a damn if you’re a prince in disguise or a hooker’s child—you’re the man I love. I loved you at fifteen, and I love you now. And you have rights, because I give them to you—the right to love me back, the right to marry me, live with me until we’re old and share a life with our children and our children’s children.”
He was shaking now. “Damn it, Lissa, I can’t. I—” He wheeled around, ready to bolt.
“Don’t make me hurt myself again to follow you, Mitch,” she said quietly. “And you know I will.”
With a strangled curse he fell into the chair beside her, burying his face in his plastered arm. “What do you
want
from me, Lissa? Tell me something I
can
give you.”
“All right.” She laid a tender hand on his mess of curls. “You told me, when you sang to me, you’d do anything for me.”
He lifted his face to hers, ragged and raw. “Do you doubt it? But I can’t marry you, Liss. I’m not good enough for you.”
She ached so bad, trying not to show it. “There’s something else I need. Something only you can give me. Then, if you want to leave me, I’ll let you go.”
“
Want
to leave you? I—” He raked a hand through his hair. “What is it you need?”
She could feel the tears shimmering in her eyes, the old terror of rejection welling in her heart; but still she said it. “Your child, growing inside me,” she said softly.
His head snapped up, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t look capable of words.
“It might take a while, though. I’d like two babies, maybe three. We might have to get a lot of practice in. You’ll have to make love to me an awful lot.” The hovering tears finally spilled onto her cheeks, but she smiled. “I know we already have three kids. But I’ve been so jealous of Kerin for having what I wanted. Your love. Making love to you. Your children inside her.”
“I always loved you, Lissways,” he said hoarsely. “Kerin knew that, which is why she never told anyone I married her—she was too bitter.” When she gasped he nodded, pulling out his wallet. “I told you I wouldn’t let my kids have the same sort of life I did. I married her as soon as she told me she was pregnant. But because I didn’t love her, she ran off a couple of months later, telling me it wasn’t my baby, anyway, and she’d send divorce papers. Then when she came back later with the boys, hoping for a reconciliation, she was furious that Shea was there. She was always unstable, on the obsessive side. She hated playing second fiddle to you. It drove her crazy.” He shrugged, and handed over a folded piece of paper. “I kept this for the boys. I wanted them to know they were wanted, loved—by me, at least.”
She looked at the paper in her hand. “Certificate of Marriage for Mitchell John McCluskey and Kerin Ann Burstall.”
Her eyes swimming in tears, she handed it back. “I should have known—I should have always known you married her. A pilot, an officer and a gentleman. My honorable Mitch,” she whispered.
He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable, and stuffed the paper back in his wallet. “Not enough to stick with her, to get her off the drugs. I should have helped her more, seen what was coming.”
“She was a drug addict. She stole from you and kidnapped her own children. She’d have ruined the boys’ lives as well as yours. You didn’t kill her. She chose to do what she did, and would probably have done it if you
had
loved her. With some people, more is never enough.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “Like me. I know you love me, but it’s not enough to have your love from a distance. I want to marry you, grow old with you, have more babies with you. Make love with you for the rest of my life.”
“Baby, I’m not good enough for you! Don’t you get it? I’ve already let you down, more than once. I’ll do it again.”
“As I’ll let you down. As I already have let you down. I’ve tested you and hurt you and thrown your love back in your face. I didn’t believe you’d married Kerin even though I knew you better than that. Did that stop you loving me, needing me?”
“Never,” he uttered hoarsely.
“Then why should the fact that you saved my life when a bunch of greedy kids shot me in a place I went to of my own free will change how much I love you, how much I need you to be with me? Why should it stop us making a life together?”
Slowly, a soft, needing light came to life in his eyes, and she prayed he was starting to believe. “You said you didn’t want a life with me in Breckerville.”
She gave him a wry smile. “I know. And part of me meant it. Then. Before I knew what danger I’d put myself in by being so stubborn about your protecting me, being so romantic about the Nighthawks and wanting to be a hero—like you were with Hana.” She sighed. “But at the moment life in Breckerville with you and the kids, and maybe a few more babies, sounds perfect.”
“And the Nighthawks?” He watched her closely. “Do you still want that?”
She shrugged, embarrassed. “What can I say? Something about it calls me…knew myself until this case came up. Maybe I’m a danger addict. Maybe I want to make a difference. And we did, Mitch. We made a difference to Hana’s family, to that girl. Your photos might get the world involved, and the war will end. I want to be part of that work in other areas. I’d like a limited, non-life-threatening role, since we have the kids to think of. But if it comes to making a choice between you and the Nighthawks, I take you.”
“Lissa, I can’t make guarantees. I’ve made other enemies in my line of work. What if some other jerk decides to get revenge on me through you or the kids?”
“What if we get run down by a bus tomorrow? What if I get leukemia or cancer? Or one of the kids? There
are
no guarantees in life, Mitch. We take what we can get, and thank God for what we have—family, love, a partner for life. We can have all that, but only if you trust me to keep loving you. As I’ll have to trust you to keep wanting me, loving me through the good times and the bad. And with four, five or six kids, there’s going to be loads of ups and downs for us.” She smiled again, so sure she was winning. “Baby, you may think you don’t deserve me, but
I
think I deserve to finally have what I want, and what I want is you, the man I love. The man I’ll always love.” She drew another breath. “Marry me, Mitchell John McCluskey. Marry me and share my life, my bed, the good times and the bad.”
“Liss, I don’t want you to be a Nighthawk,” he said raggedly. “I hate the thought of you being in danger.”
Sadness shafted through her, but she didn’t hesitate. She’d never be happy being a Nighthawk if he weren’t a part of her life. “All right.”
He held up a hand. “I hate it. I don’t want it—but I’ll live with it. If it’s what you want. We’ll do it together.” He smiled slowly. “But I have one stipulation—we do backups, pickups or info gathering only—social stuff at embassies, etcetera—and turn down everything when you’re pregnant with those babies you want, or when they’re too little. We wait until they’re weaned, and never take any missions longer than a week. Our kids need us.”
“Done.” She bit her lip as joy bubbled up inside her heart. “So it’s yes? You’ll marry me?”
He grinned, the shadows gone, his eyes mirroring the sweet wonder she knew inside herself. “Tim was right. I haven’t got the artillery to fight you, despite knowing I ought to. Yes, Melissa Jane Miller, I’ll marry you, father your babies, share your life and bed, the good times and bad—and a few Nighthawk missions to fulfil your craving for excitement or making a difference to the world. I may not deserve your love, sweetheart, but I’ll sure try to have earned it by the end of the next fifty years or so.”