| Chapter Twelve He�d decided to accept the lift to the beach after all. Unprepared to deal with whatever soul baring Jack had in mind, Nora had calmly started up the Jeep once more; they�d driven in an uncomfortable but mutually accepted silence, broken only when Nora had pointed out that the small modern bridge that they were crossing was a replacement for the old wooden one Ted Kennedy had failed to negotiate the night Mary Jo Kopekne had died. When he�d left her to run, Nora had felt a sharp, fleeting pang of regret that she had been so adamant that he go, that she had insisted that she wanted the time alone. Jack was good company. Intelligent and witty, he never took himself too seriously, no matter what facade he maintained for public consumption. Stubborn, yes, but self-effacing, too. Under the sharp legal edges, he was comfortable and casual, like the sweaters and jeans that he wore which she thought suited him so well and found so attractive. She recalled how her body had reacted to his touch last night. Did he find anything about her attractive anymore? Most men aged so well and Jack was no exception. Ruefully, she thought of Lauren�s comment when she�d met her on the tarmac - was it only three days ago? - about letting her figure go. She remembered Jack�s hands and mouth on her breasts, how he�d once obsessed over them. How would he react to her body now, to the leavings of gravity and time? No matter, for if he�d been at all interested, he�d had two years in which to make it known. Never had, of course. But why would he? The world was awash with beautiful young women... �Nora?� Startled, she turned towards Jack�s voice. She grinned. �You haven�t even broken a sweat yet.� He pursed his lips, tilted his head. �I wanted to come back and talk. I think we need to talk, Nora.� A subtle shift in her eyes, in the way she held her head told him that she had instinctively adapted her �wary� pose. �At least I�d like to talk� he corrected himself. He fell into stride beside her as she turned and resumed walking in silence. �I�d like to continue our conversation about my being a jerk, about feeling awkward, about your picking up the pieces again.� �As I recall, that was your conversation, Jack.� �Yes, okay, I chose to bring it up. I�d also like to finish it.� Carefully weighing her words: �I don�t think that�s wise. I think we should maintain as much distance as we can. We work together....� �Which is precisely why I want us to be frank with each other, Nora.� He tentatively touched her wrist, then drew his hand away. �Are we simply going to ignore all our unresolved issues? Is that what you want? I�m not comfortable with that.� She looked up at him in surprise, aware of the ocean breeze cooling the sudden hot flush of her neck and face, of the uneasiness growing in the pit of her stomach as a result of his candour. �It was thirty years ago.� �And you don�t think it�s about time that we took it out and looked at it again? Either put it to rest or....� She felt the pounding of her heart as it surged up into her throat, sounded in her ears. �...bandaged it?� He faltered. �Or something?� Aware of the scream of the terns and the gulls despite the growing roar in her head, she found herself repeating with disbelief what he had just said. �Bandage it?� The sarcasm in her voice was controlled but cutting. �Or something?� R e v i e w H o m e Nothing could have prepared Nora for what awaited her. Nothing. Completely dry, yet with a bath sheet wrapped around him, a wide-eyed Jack stepped back to let he |