The Value of Vulnerability (46 page)

“Cry all you want. I’m not going anywhere.” His beard tickled as he kissed her, but then he pulled back, giving her a wry look. “Is this an appropriate time to talk about my feelings?”

That stopped the tears as laughter shook her. “Yeah. Totally appropriate.”

He leant his forehead against hers. “You know I’m not a nice person, Erin. I’ve done things—” He stopped, choosing words. “I lack a conscience. Not completely, but I honestly do not care about . . . people I don’t care about.” Heaving a self-deprecating sigh, he rolled off her onto his back. “I’m terrible at this.”

“It’s your first time,” she teased, sprawling over his chest. “I’ll be gentle.”

“I know you think that’s funny, but I’d really appreciate it.”

“I know. And I mean it.”

“Good.” He stared at the ceiling. “My father died.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Then you are the only person on Earth to regret him.” He swore under his breath. “See, I know you meant that as a polite nicety for my sake, but—”

“It’s okay, Ford. Tell me about your dad. Or his death. Anything you like.”

“I went to see him before going to Russia. I wanted . . . something. Some ending. Don’t you dare say ‘closure,’” he growled. “I needed to see if he was as I remembered. If impending death had brought self-awareness. A re-examination. It hadn’t. He was still a monster. But the other reason I visited him was to see if I could see myself in him.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “From my earliest memory, I have feared becoming him.”

“And?” she prompted, touching a hand to his face.

“It was a relief, Erin. To see him and know that I hadn’t gone that far. You had told me that I could choose to be a better person, that—despite a borderline personality,” he chuckled hoarsely, “—I’m not actually ill. You used the word sociopath, if I recall. That was my father.”

She folded her hands on his chest and rested her chin on them. “Go on.”

“You said I could choose,” he iterated. “And I will. I’ve started to. I’m never going to be a naturally nice man,” he grimaced. “But I can make better choices, removing the risk of losing myself.”

It was good enough for her. She could help him change—or at least modify his behaviours—but not
make
him change. Only he could do that.

Ford gazed into her eyes, dimples ghosting. “The irony of all of this—of winning you, having you in my life—is that it wouldn’t have happened were it not for my father. I learned he was dying the day I met you, and that reminder of mortality shook my guard enough for you to slide under it. Seeing him again gave me hope that I could be a decent person you could respect. And this,” he jerked his chin at the room. “Being here. Being alive. Is because he died.”

“How so?” she whispered, wide-eyed.

“I had just deplaned in Juneau when Ms. Leung phoned to tell me. I needed to
do
something, to be active, and couldn’t bear the thought of getting on that plane again. So I made the arrangements that ultimately saved my life.”

“Oh, Ford.” She kissed him.

He turned so she lay beneath him, returning her kiss with tender fervour.

At last, he withdrew a few centimetres to scan her face. “You really do love me, don’t you?”

“Yes. Really.”

“It is incredible and all but implausible that such a woman would love such a man.”

The expression of academic and philosophical musing on his face contrasted sharply with the actual situation, and Erin laughed helplessly.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded.

“You are.” She wound her arms around his neck. “When I told you I loved you—you were so shocked! You didn’t believe me then.”

“No, I
did
believe you. That was the shocker. The complete lack of doubt. Women have said it to me before, you know.”

She grinned at the defensive tone.

“All lies. I never believed it until you said it,” he continued. “But I couldn’t, even then, concede to try. God, Erin, when you were knocking at my heart, begging entry—! Who was this woman with the audacity to knock at me and tell me she loved me? And when I saw you in front of Requiem and you smiled at me, I saw what I had so carelessly given up.”

“Why didn’t you
say
anything? Come after me?”

“It might have taken a few days for me to reach that conclusion,” he excused. “Then with the news of my father’s death, everything got hazy and I needed more time.” He placed kisses along her jaw to her ear, nuzzling. “Regardless, the next time I need to tell you something important, I’ll not let anything prevent me. I should have chased you down that night.”

“Hells, yeah.”

“But I might have been feeling a little . . . vulnerable.”

“Good.” She ran investigative hands under his sweater, luxuriating in the familiar feel of his skin and sinew.

“Sweetheart, I really need a shower,” he groaned apologetically, kissing her again.

“I don’t care how funky you smell,” she grinned. “Or how scruffy you look. You’re not going anywhere. Show me how much you love me,” she demanded huskily, and he did.

***

Later, after lovemaking, a shower, and more lovemaking, they ordered room service and watched the news. Erin groaned and blushed while Ford laughed hysterically as they saw, over and over again, film clips of her leaping on him. The newscasters reported her name merely as “Erin,” (“They must have overheard Nick when he told me you were there,” Ford said) and there was much speculation about who she was as the story moved inexorably from hard news to gossip and entertainment, spotlighting the happy ending in the midst of tragedy.

“You’d better start making some call-backs,” Ford mused, as her BlackBerry had rung several times. She hadn’t answered for fear of crying her happiness all over again, but her family would be worried, so she started with the calls, despite the time difference. No one would mind.

The Parents were first. They had seen her on the news, they said, and were glad Ford was alive, and how was Fort McMurray, and they had been through there on a vacation once, and when did she think she might be home, and was Sunday good for Ford to come to dinner, because they were not accepting no for an answer this time, his being alive and therefore his existence proven, and did he prefer roast beef or roast pork?

“Surprise me,” was his amused response to the query.

“Are you really going to come to the Parents’?” she asked as she dialled Liana.

“Yes.” He lifted her free hand to his mouth, turning it palm up to press his tongue against it. “But, Erin?” he warned. “I’m not fond of people as a rule.”

“Oh, that’s news,” she chuckled.

“People aren’t fond of me as a rule, either,” he noted as Liana picked up.

The conversation with her sister had much more shrieking and crying in it than the one with her level-headed parents. Having worked late, Liana had known nothing of the story until it all unfolded on the eleven o’clock news. “And there you were, practically knocking the dead man over, and I swear I almost choked on my pizza!”

Finally, they could relax again, though relaxation was brief when she asked: “Why did you stay out of my life so completely?”

Clearing his throat, he slid from the bed, tugging on his jeans.

“Hey!” she protested both the removal and hiding of his naked glory.

Grinning, he poured the end of the wine. Glass clinked as they toasted each other, and she took an obligatory sip before setting hers aside.

Ford sat in an armchair, facing her.

“Look, Erin.” He drew in one of those measured breaths that always seemed to settle him. “I intended to make you my mistress. That was all.”

“Your . . . what?”

“Just,” he gestured slightly as he winced. “Let me finish. Yes. Mistress. The sum total of my plan for you. Somehow, you ruined those plans, and just when I was deciding how long I was going to allow you to continue working, I realised that you were my—my
girlfriend
.”

She clapped her hands over her ears in mock horror. “Oh, no! How horrible for you! Don’t say another word! La-la-la-la-la—” She went off in peals of laughter.

“Are you done? In any case, meeting your family and friends and that ilk had the potential of leading into being open and discussing the kind of future I had no intention of having. And ruining what we
did
have. Not only do I not take to people easily, there was—and is—a very real possibility that your friends and family will not approve of me. Or like me. I don’t care for myself. That is,” he corrected as she raised her eyebrows—for he had few issues with his ego, “I don’t care what they think of me. But I do care how opinion of me affects you.” He leaned his forearms on his knees, wineglass dangling from fingertips. “And how it might influence you.”

She hugged a pillow, burying her cheek in its softness as she gazed at him, marvelling at the complex intelligence of a man who arrogantly and confidently prized his own dark nature, yet understood its threat to their future happiness. He wouldn’t change, but he would adjust. Not for her, really, but because he had linked his happiness to hers. She was the centre of his life, and what he did for her benefit, he regarded as being for his own.

The smile she bestowed on him was indulgent. “You know you’re utterly ridiculous, right?”

“I do not know that,” he asserted.

“I love you. It’s not blindly. There’s nothing anyone could say about you that I don’t know—”

“I could,” he said, a sort of bleak panic flickering.

“There are details,” she agreed, sitting up. “But they won’t stop me from loving you, because I already know you’ve been a—a bad boy, so the details are moot. And—I’m assuming now,” she said cautiously, “that you won’t be doing those sorts of things anymore.”

He studied his wine. “I went the legal route with Stephenson.”

“Who’s Stephenson?”

“Your extortionist.”

“Oh. Oh! Ford, that’s great! I’m really happy you changed your mind.”

“There’s something else. I imagine it will demand an apology. But my mother . . . how you met her . . .”

“I know.”

“You do
not
know, Erin,” he said, now impatient.

“I
do
know.” She grinned. “You sicced her on me. Some lame test of my trustworthiness.”

“How do you know that?”

She aped sulkiness. “Some weird relationship you have with her. Norma Bates. And you arranged to have me
meet
her.” She slid him a sly look. “Bad choice on your part, Ford. She told me you had set the whole thing up. And then,” her humour faded, “she said that she would do anything to hurt you.”

There was no surprise or upset in his reaction, but he gave one of those wryly twisted smiles. “I should have known. The only thing she cares about more than money is her petty hatreds.”

“I can’t imagine the childhood you must have had.”

“Fortunately, it was largely parent free. What I do not understand is why you ever spoke to me again.”

“It was a busy night. I forgot to be mad at you for that.”

He came to her, sitting on the side of the bed to run a heavy hand over her hair. “About having Mother meet you,” he returned to the subject at hand, “time was running out for us. You weren’t going to stand for the status quo in our relationship, and the only thing I could think to do was trick you with an illusion of commitment, by way of an offer to move in with me. While I was convinced you were trustworthy, I had already mapped out a scheme of tests for you to prove it. I do not like to change tried-and-true methods. Nor do I like to change careful planning. However, the testing of your character was, by that point, mere formality. Mother presented a temptation that would not tempt you in the least, so I was guaranteed that you would pass the test.”

Several moments passed in silence as Erin gaped at him.

“What?” he asked, with the innocence of the supremely arrogant.

“Well . . . just an FYI, Ford. When you meet my friends and family, you might want to dial it down on soliloquies like that one.” She giggled, turning her head to kiss his palm.

He considered that, frowning slightly as he puzzled it through. His expression cleared. “Ah. Yes. I can see how it might not be well received.”

“Did Helen report back to you?”

“Yes. Her report described you as a self-centred unreasonable bitch.”

“Ironic accusation.”

“Naturally, knowing both of you so well, I was inclined to disbelieve
her.”

“Inclined?”

He grinned at full wattage, making her catch her breath—she would never get used to how beautiful he was when he smiled like that. “Not for an instant did I doubt you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I know.” She wound herself around him, pulling him down on her. “One last question.”

“Mm?” He was already kissing along the slope of her breast.

She lifted his head to meet his eyes. “Ford, what about that whole extortion deal? What if . . .” Her voice trailed, unable to articulate either the fear of similar attempts in the future or his reaction to them. His enemies were not going away, as much as she wished it.