Captive

Chapter Thirty Two

With his chest burning and his breath coming in quick gasps Bret paused at the top of the hill, resting his hands on his knees and panting. He wasn't sure how far he'd run this time but it had been far enough and fast enough that he had pushed against his limits. The morning had brought frustration after a brief window of hope that she was letting her guard down both physically and emotionally. She had confided in him her fears about seeing her mother the day before, asked him to stay with her after her nightmare, allowed him to touch her, to kiss her, but then completely withdrawn. Breakfast had been awkward and silent for the most part with her again barely eating then looking at him warily as if expecting him to launch an attack on her for it. It was as if she didn't understand that he empathised, he knew that seeing her mother was causing all kinds of conflicting emotions in her which in turn was making her feel sick to her stomach. And as much as he knew that his actions were to blame for some of it he was so frustrated that every time he thought they were moving on those walls came up around her again and he had no idea how to bring them down.

Once he had caught his breath, Bret looked down from the hill at the view spread out beneath him. He'd done almost a full circuit before he'd decided to carry on running up here so he could see his house not too far away and knew he needed to get back. Both he and Juliet were working later that day; he was wrestling and she was at the bar. He'd asked her not to work too much today if she was doing the bar as well as he feared she was overdoing it but he fully anticipated getting back to find her buried under her books and probably trying to cook and clean at the same time. The girl couldn't sit still he'd discovered unless she had a book in her hand but even then she'd be restless, her eyes darting around looking for the next job.

Bret made his way down the hill, walking now as he had run enough, his dark eyes fixed on the front door of his house as he reached his driveway. He'd decided he would have a shower when he got inside and then try to speak to her, try to disperse some of the awkwardness between them so he headed upstairs and went into the shower. The jets of water eased his aching muscles but he still felt frustrated and heart sore, wondering how they made this work. Was their recent past too much of an obstacle to overcome? He believed they were both utterly miserable and not just because of the outside factors of their parents. Shaking his head the thought occurred to him that maybe Owen had been right to have his doubts. Perhaps too much water had passed under the bridge. He stepped out of the shower and dried off, wrapping a towel around his waist and using another to rub the worst of the dampness out of his hair.

"I'm sorry." Her quiet voice made him jump as he hadn't expected to see her. Juliet was standing a little shyly in his bedroom, watching him as he walked into the room. His dark eyes searched her face and she forced herself to meet his gaze. "I'm giving you mixed messages and I'm sorry. It isn't that I don't want to be with you in every conceivable way, not at all. I am just a little nervous I suppose." She paused and looked away from him briefly. "You stayed out a long time. I guessed that I had frustrated you this morning. I... I very much want to make this work, sir... I... I... mean Bret." She paused again and this time her eyes went to his with so much force he caught his breath. "You weren't the only one I frustrated Bret. I frustrated myself as well and I would like to remedy that."

"Now?" he asked, clearing his throat and she shrugged.

"No time like the present I suppose," she said, but he heard the slight tremor in her voice.

"Juliet...."

"No!" she said fiercely. "I don't want you to brush me off, tell me that it doesn't matter, that we can take it slow. I did a lot of thinking while you were out, about how much of my life I have wasted because of what that bastard did to me. I have been running for the last ten years, letting Jason and Edward as well control my destiny. I got myself into such a state about it all this morning and then I thought why am I doing this? What have any of these people done for me? Why am I letting them continue to control my life? I don't want to do publicity with Mum and Edward so why should I? I am a bestselling author in my own right and don't need to ride Mum's coat tails. I have called the agency and explained that I won't be involved in a tour with Mum, that I am happy to do an interview away from her but I have no intention of being in the same room as her and Edward at any point."