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Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and steadied himself. This, their last time together, was a moment to be cherished.
Grace had other ideas, raising her thighs for even deeper penetration, clinging to him, her mouth demanding ever more from his kisses.
It took everything he had to slow her down. He wanted—needed—to savour every minute. He wanted her to savour every minute too, to look back on this, their last time together, and think of him, if not with love, then something kinder than hate.
He withdrew, right to the tip, holding it there for as long as he could bear before pushing back inside. He let the motions increase a little with every thrust, until he established a steady tempo that had her whimpering anew, moaning his name, her hand clasping his buttocks, the fingers of her other hand scraping his scalp.
Only when he felt the muscles within her contract and her body go rigid did he finally allow himself to let go too, his cry of relief sounding like a roar as he made one final thrust, holding on to the moment for as long as he could before collapsing on top of her.
For what seemed an age, he lay there, buried inside her and on her, reluctant to move, desperate to hold on to the moment for as long as he could.
Eventually the chill on his back forced him to move.
It hadn’t been the power of the heater that had warmed him earlier but the heat Grace created within him.
He covered them in the duvet and pulled her to him, his head already thickening with the need to sleep. One more sleep with her and then...
Grace sat bolt upright, jerking him awake.
‘Your mum must be doing her nut!’ she cried.
Before she could escape from the bed he trapped her wrist. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘I put Lily to bed and then got your mum to watch over her so I could come and find you—I didn’t think I’d be this long!’
‘My mother will be fine,’ he soothed, pulling her back to him.
‘No, she won’t. She’s shattered.’ She wriggled out from his hold and climbed off the bed. ‘I think Lily must have kept her awake all night. I promised I wouldn’t be long.’
‘Why were you looking for me?’
‘You missed Lily’s bedtime. You haven’t seen her since we got back. I knew you were home but I couldn’t find you anywhere and you weren’t answering your phone.’ She looked up from the pile of clothes she was sorting through and threw him a wry smile. ‘Maybe I should get a tracker put on it so I can keep tabs on you.’
He winced. Knowing he deserved it did not take away the sting.
His heart felt weighted as he watched her dress.
She must have felt him staring, pausing from yanking her jeans up. ‘What’s the matter?’
There was one question he needed to know the answer to before he let her go. ‘Why did you stop painting?’
‘I...’ She hesitated. ‘I’m not sure. I guess I was too busy running.’
‘I’m sorry I never bought you a gallery.’
Her eyes widened a fraction.
‘You were right—I didn’t think it was safe enough outside the estate for you.’
Eyes still wide, she hooked her jumper over her head. When she came up for air she said, ‘I was going to buy it for myself.’
‘Really?’ He was about to ask what money she would have used when it came to him in a flash. ‘Your allowance.’
She nodded, smoothing the jumper down over her belly. ‘It was just sitting in the bank doing nothing.’
‘I wondered why you hadn’t touched it.’
‘I wasn’t going to touch the allowance, not at first. I never wanted it in the first place.’
‘So why accept it?’
‘When I agreed to it we were in that soppy honeymoon phase. I knew refusing would hurt your feelings and I didn’t want to do that. But then a few months before I left I got to thinking—why shouldn’t I buy it? That money was mine to do as I wished.’
‘But you knew buying it would go against my wishes?’
She slipped her feet into her boots and looked up at him. Her smile was sad. ‘Actually, I didn’t know that. You never said it in so many words; just evaded the topic every time I brought the subject up. But yes, I had a good idea you wouldn’t approve.’
‘Yet you were still prepared to go ahead and do it.’
‘I like to think I would have. It was either that or hate you for your pig-headedness. I loved you. You were my world. But you were not my life. You knew when we married I had a mind of my own and that I’m not some insipid flower who wilts at the first sign of confrontation...’ Her voice trailed off, her eyes becoming glazed.
‘Grace?’
She blinked and gave a short shake of her head before continuing where she had left off. ‘I knew opening my own gallery without your input would cause conflict between us but I thought—hoped—we were strong enough to overcome it.’ She finished tying her laces and looked at her watch again. ‘I really need to get back to your mum. Are you coming with me?’
