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He stood up, held his hand out to her. She took it instantly, instinctively, trusting him already. ‘Come on.’
He led her to the bedroom in the back of the suite, two walls of windows overlooking the inky surface of Marina Bay. Aurelie only had eyes for the bed. It was big, wide and piled with pillows in different shades of blue silk. She turned to him and licked her lips, a question in her eyes.
‘Let’s just relax.’ He kicked off his shoes, took off his tie and stretched out on the bed. Aurelie sat on its edge and took off her boots. Gingerly she scooted up next to him, lay her head back on the pillows. Luke laughed softly. ‘You look like you’re on an examining table.’
‘I feel a bit like that too.’
‘We’re not rushing this, you know.’
‘I almost wish you would.’
‘Oh?’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘You think you’d enjoy that?’
Now she laughed, the soft sound trembling on the air. ‘Probably not.’
Gently he traced the winged arches of her eyebrows, the curve of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed and he let himself explore the graceful contours of her face with his fingertips: the straight line of her nose, the fullness of her lips. ‘Tell me,’ he asked after a moment, ‘what your favourite room is in your house in Vermont.’
‘What?’ Her eyes opened and she stared at him in surprise. Luke smiled and gently closed them again with his fingertips.
‘Your favourite room,’ he repeated and continued to stroke her face with whisper-light touches. He felt her relax, just a little.
‘The kitchen, I suppose. I always remember my grandmother there.’
‘She liked to bake?’
‘Yes—’
‘And you helped her that summer?’
Her eyes opened again, clear with astonishment. ‘Yes—’ Gently he nudged them closed once more. She relaxed back into the pillows again. ‘I always liked helping her with things,’ she said after a moment. ‘I suppose because she always liked me to help.’
‘You must miss her,’ Luke said quietly, and she gave a little nod.
‘You must miss your mother,’ she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper, and for a second his fingers stilled on her face. He hadn’t expected her to say that. She opened her eyes, gave him a small smile. ‘This honesty thing? You told me it went both ways.’
‘Yes.’ But he really didn’t want to talk about his mother.
‘Do you miss her?’
‘Yes.’ He swallowed, felt his throat thicken. ‘Every day.’ Gently he traced the outline of her parted lips with his fingers and then slowly, deliberately, dropped his finger to her chin. Rested it there for a moment. ‘You know, the first time I met you I knew the truth of you from your chin.’
‘My chin?’
‘It quivers when you’re upset.’
She laughed softly. ‘No one’s ever told me that before.’
‘Maybe no one’s ever noticed.’ He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the point of her chin. He felt her still, hold her breath. Wait. He lifted his head and smiled. ‘I like it.’
‘I’m glad.’
He touched her chin once more with his fingertip, and then trailed it slowly down the curve of her neck, rested it in the sweet little hollow of her throat. Stroked. He heard her breath hitch and she shifted on the bed. Luke felt the impatient stirring of his own desire. He’d told her they’d go slowly, and he meant it. Even if it was a rather painful process for him. ‘Your skin is so soft. I thought that the first time I met you too.’
‘You didn’t.’
‘I did. I was attracted to you from the moment you opened your eyes. Why do you think I was so ticked off?’
She let out a shuddery little laugh as he continued to stroke that little hollow. ‘Because I was passed out and running late, I thought.’
‘That was just my cover.’ He let his finger trace a gentle line from the hollow of her throat down to the vee between her breasts. And he rested it there, the sides of her breasts softly brushing his finger, and waited.
Her cheeks were faintly flushed now, and her eyes had fluttered closed. He heard her breath rise and fall with a slight shudder and he felt a deep surge of satisfaction. She wanted this. She wanted him. He trailed his finger back up to that hollow, and she opened her eyes.
