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Britt wanted him.
But at what cost?
He couldn't let her give up her dream for him and, as much as he appreciated how far she was willing to go to give them a chance, it scared the hell out of him. They'd been married less than a month and she was willing to lay it all on the line for him?
Old doubts crept under his guard, crawling under his skin until he itched to pull over and scratch them away.
What if he wasn't good enough for her?
What if he couldn't be the man she deserved?
What if she didn't need him as much as he needed her?
Yeah, the same old doubts, undermining the confident, successful man he'd become. Crazy. But so was their unrelenting passion that hadn't waned in ten long years.
Were they merely making up for lost time? Fulfilling a fantasy they never really had first time around? Confusing a sizzling attraction for a deeper emotion they would need as a solid foundation to build a real marriage on?
The roar of the wind filled his ears, not loud enough to obliterate the endless questions and doubts whirling through his head. He glanced down at the speedometer, muttering a curse as he realised he'd momentarily lost concentration.
All this mulling was pointless anyway. Until he cleared the secrets of the past, he couldn't make way for the future.
If they were to have any future, he had to tell Britt the truth.
All of it.
Making an impulsive decision that had landed him in more scrapes as a youngster than he cared to admit, he slowed, checked for traffic, and made a U-turn.
Time to pay his past a visit.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Nick rang the reception bell, glancing around as he waited.
He'd assumed the local special accommodation for the elderly would be shabby and rundown, with the cloying smell of disinfectant and overcooked stew in the air.
Instead, this place could pass for a hotel, with its manicured lawns, new paint, elegant furniture, and sweeping veranda, with floor-to-ceiling windows highlighting a breathtaking vista.
Then again, would he expect Darby Lloyd to live in anything less?
'Can I help you?' A middle-aged woman in a nurse's uniform bustled out from a back room and leaned over the desk with a beaming smile.
'I hope so. I'd like to see Darby Lloyd?'
To her credit, the nurse's smile didn't slip but he saw the fleeting surprise in her twinkling eyes. 'Certainly. Darby doesn't get many visitors so I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you.'
Nick bit back a grin. The last thing good old Darby would be was thrilled.
'Follow me,’ the nurse said.
If the outside of the special accommodation facility had been impressive, the inside of the place surprised him as he followed the nurse down a series of corridors. Paintings of every size and description covered the walls, antiques tastefully arranged on every available inch of furniture, and the rich, polished Tasmanian Oak floorboards gleamed in the late afternoon light pouring through the atrium-like ceilings.
The nurse came to an abrupt halt outside a mahogany door and gestured him forward. 'Just knock and head in. Though please keep your visit brief. Darby's blood pressure is elevated today and he has a tendency to overdo things.'
'You have my word.' Nick’s wink was rewarded with a blush and a smile as the nurse bustled away, leaving him with lead in his boots.
He shouldn't have come here unannounced, especially if the old man was having a bad day. He hadn't seen Darby in ten years, hadn't wanted to after what the old bastard had done, but that was the past and if Nick wanted to move forward he had to lay it to rest, once and for all.
He took a deep breath, knocked twice, and pushed the door open. 'Mr Lloyd, it's Nick Mancini.'
