She sighed. ‘No. Not really.’
‘Then why?’
‘I never met anyone.’
‘Seriously?’ He found that rather hard to believe. Lily was gorgeous. Fun. Successful. He’d have thought she’d have been snapped up within weeks. Was very glad she hadn’t.
‘To be more accurate I suppose I never let myself meet anyone,’ she said, twining her fingers through his. ‘At least not anyone I could be properly interested in.’
Kit frowned, unable to work that out. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I guess I always figured a deep and meaningful relationship would put me in a vulnerable position or something. I didn’t—don’t—ever want to be in a situation again which could lead to the kind of pain and heartache and desolation I went through with you. Does that make any sense whatsoever?’
‘More than it should. So what are you saying? You’ve been celibate all these years?’
‘No, of course not,’ she said with a soft laugh that clearly didn’t take into consideration the jealousy lancing through him at the thought of her with other men. ‘I’ve been out with guys. Nice guys. Had flings and things. But none of them involved the earth-moving, mind-shattering, fireworks-and-explosions kind of sex we had. It was more a case of the scratching of an itch. Which suited me just fine at the time.’
‘But not now?’
She turned her head and smiled up at him. ‘What do you think?’
Kit thought that she was never having sex—good or bad—with anyone else ever again.
‘Anyway, what about you?’ she said. ‘Why haven’t you ever remarried? You always did want children and it can’t have been for lack of opportunity.’
‘It wasn’t.’
‘Silly me for asking.’
The trace of jealousy in her voice made him smile. ‘But every relationship I’ve attempted tended to be hampered by the problem you solved on New Year’s Eve.’
‘Your impotence?’
He winced. ‘Ouch. Do you have to?’
‘Sorry,’ she said, not sounding sorry at all. ‘What would you call it?’
‘A temporary psychological problem to do with certain issues relating to intimacy.’
‘Not all that temporary if it went on for five years.’
‘No.’
‘And that sounds like something a therapist would say.’
‘It was.’
Shifting out of his embrace, she sat up and turned round to stare at him, surprise written all over her face. ‘You saw a therapist?’
‘I did.’
‘But it didn’t help?’
‘Nothing did.’
‘That must have been frustrating.’
‘You have no idea.’
‘Well, now you’re cured you can go back and take your pick.’
Kit looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I could,’ he said eventually. ‘But I won’t.’
She went very still, not taking her eyes off him for a second. ‘Oh?’
‘Because this—us—isn’t just sex, is it?’
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, so softly it came out as almost a whisper. ‘I’ve spent the entire last week remembering why I fell in love with you.’
‘Ditto.’
‘And now I think the real reason that I’ve never really had a proper relationship since us is that despite everything I tried to tell myself I never fell out of love with you.’
‘And I think that the problem I had with sex, which I always thought was to do with the guilt I carried at having that one-night stand, was down to the fact that I never fell out of love with you.’
She tilted her head, a faint smile playing at her lips. ‘What a pair we are.’
They could be a formidable pair, thought Kit. A great pair. And if only she gave him the chance to prove it, he’d devote the rest of his life to making up for what he’d done to her and to them. He took a deep breath, his heart hammering so wildly he could feel it banging against his ribs. ‘Lily?’
‘Yes?’
‘What would you say to us trying again?’
* * *
Despite the fact that somewhere in the back of her mind Lily had been expecting something like this, she still had to bite back the ‘yes’ that was trying to tumble out of her mouth, and she still had to clamp down on the urge to throw herself against him and smother him in kisses.
Because while she’d thought about it quite a lot this afternoon, and fantasised about it before that more than she cared to admit, the reality of them wasn’t some kind of fairy tale. It wasn’t all hearts and roses, lost love found and a blissful happy ever after.
Once upon a time it had been painful, heartbreaking and soul-destroying. Now it was messy and filled with memories and experiences that were not, perhaps, conducive to a healthy, functional relationship.
So while on one level the idea that they got back together was the best thing she’d heard in ages, on another she had so many doubts and fears about what would happen if they did that she held back.
Ignoring her heart, which was remembering he’d said he loved her, Lily listened to her head, which was insisting she proceed with caution, and sighed. ‘I don’t know, Kit.’
He frowned, his smile fading. ‘What don’t you know? You know I love you.’
‘And I love you. But we were in love last time and look what happened. What makes you think it would work this time round?’
‘We’ve changed.’
‘Enough?’
‘I think so.’
He was right. They had. But still... ‘Some things haven’t though.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like the children you’ve always wanted,’ she said, and steeled herself for the dull ache that throbbed through her. Not quite the sharp pain it had been because she’d come to terms with it now, but nevertheless it still hurt a little. ‘That’s not going to happen with me, because I really don’t think I could go through the whole IVF thing again.’
Three rounds had been quite enough and she never again wanted to experience the hope and the despair that the procedures had aroused in her. Never again wanted to be reminded of the pain and devastation of her ectopic pregnancy and her resultant infertility.
‘There are other options,’ he said, watching her closely.
‘Adoption?’
He’d suggested that once before, just after she’d found out that the third round of treatment hadn’t worked, and at the time she’d been feeling so like she’d failed in her evolutionary role on the planet, and so unable to believe that he could have brought it up at that time, that she’d yelled at him that he was unthinking and unfeeling and wholly insensitive if he thought that adopting could make up for holding their own child in her arms.
But now, though, she could see that it was an option. The only one they had really.
‘We could think about it,’ he said. ‘At some point. Or not. Whatever you want. I’d rather have you and no children than a family with anyone else. I always did.’
Ignoring