Sage felt a rush of happiness and bent down to pick up her son. Joyfully gathering him into her arms, she spun him around and his laughter filled their cold, black, starless surroundings, suddenly making it the most cheerful place on earth. They skipped back towards the Camelot Inn, Sage carrying Hal on her hip. They were trying to sing ‘Puff, the Magic Dragon’ again and Grouse was rumbling along in sympathy as they both got the words wrong.
‘What’s all this racket?’ Rafe appeared before them, eyes sparkling. His dark hair was already damp from the precipitation off the sea, his chiselled features highlighted by the distant glow of the lights outside the pub. Sage could not help but wonder whether he might ever be hers. He tentatively held his arms out to Hal, who wriggled down from Sage’s hold and ran into them willingly.
‘I’ve managed to book two rooms – theironlytwo rooms. It was a bit of luck – they’d had a cancellation, otherwise we’d have been sleeping in the car. Apparently there’s nowhere else to stay for ten miles. Shall we go and get some supper? I think I saw fish fingers on the menu.’
He shifted Hal onto his hip and took Sage’s hand, leading her into the pub.
Ducking through the low door they stepped into a low-ceilinged bar that was whitewashed inside. It was very simple, the only decorations being framed black-and-white photographs of the village from over the years. The bar itself was lined with‘the regulars’; all old men wearing thick jerseys, checked shirts and flat caps like a uniform.
‘This is my sort of establishment,’ said Rafe with an approving nod. ‘The barmaid is definitely my type too.’
Sage looked up at him in surprise and he gestured towards the woman standing at the far end of the bar; bent over with age, she had snow-white hair and wore thick spectacles on a string around her neck. Sage punched him reprovingly on the arm.
They sat down and within twenty minutes they were both eating delicious steak and chips while Hal munched on fish fingers, his eyes drooping, half-closed with exhaustion. Finally they made their way upstairs to find two tiny, cold attic rooms made up with clean frilly linen, net curtains and hot water bottles. Hal was asleep before Sage had turned out his light. She made her way through to the other bedroom to find Rafe sprawled out on the double bed, which took up most of the room. He was reading theRacing Post, still wearing his coat.
He glanced at his watch. ‘It’s barely seven o’clock. Are you tired?’ he asked, noticing the shadows underneath her eyes.
‘No, not really,’ she answered, wringing her hands together. ‘I’m nervous. I’m excited.’
‘Why are you nervous?’ Rafe reached out for her.
‘Not about you.’ Sage took off her shoes and coat and succumbed to Rafe’s arms, curling up contentedly. ‘I’m nervous about seeing my father.’ She was also worried about Santiago but she did not want to talk or even think about him.
‘You’ll be fine, whatever happens. You will handle it with grace, just as you do everything. If it’s awkward, I can take Hal off and leave you to talk properly. If you want me to stay, I will stay. Whatever you need.’
‘What’s happening with your horses? The flat season is just about to start properly – aren’t you worried about being away from the yard?’ Sage had propped herself up on her elbows.
‘Hush! Lie back down. The season doesn’t start until later next month. The horses are fine. Now, let’s talk about something more interesting … Why are you feeling excited?’ Rafe pulled her back down and wrapped his arms around her.
Sage looked at him and could not tear her eyes from his. She relaxed again and lay back, still watching him. Her body was only too willing to surrender to Rafe’s gentle, exploring hands. Although his skin was rough and calloused, his touch was tender. He knew instinctively where she wanted him. All of her nerve endings crackled with sensual energy as he stroked her trembling skin, unable to restrain his hands from travelling beneath her clothes. He looked at her for permission as he reached the button of her jeans. She hurriedly undid the button herself and then, sitting up, she took off her two jumpers and shirt.
‘Exactly how many layers are you wearing?’ Rafe asked. His eyes were creased with amusement but his voice came out ragged. He brushed his lips softly along her ribs, supporting his weight as he moved slowly down her body. Her breath quickened, rising in and out in an uneven pulse as he mastered iron will to contain the longing that threatened to overwhelm him.
Sage manoeuvred him onto his back, silently, and started to undress him. She slowly but methodically dropped his clothes onto the floor beside the bed. His body was lean and muscular, she traced her hand over the definition in wonder. Leaning down she put her lips on his skin, finding that she wanted to taste him. She was consumed with longing for him. She wanted all of him. She had never felt this primeval need for another person before. The smell of his skin made her senses reel. She breathed him in deeply as she kissed and stroked and sucked and then with some urgency she moved beneath him, putting her trembling arms around him and drawing him insistently down to her.
Rafe began to move very slowly, rocking backwards andforward. His mouth found hers and his tongue caressed her, exploring her mouth deeply and hungrily. He kissed her neck and her jaw, his breath warm and sweet on her face. Sage clung on to him, helpless, awash with burning desire. The pressure was building. It felt like teasingly sweet torture. She arched her back, yielding to the intense pleasure, raking his back with her short nails, completely lost in the rolling waves that were rising inside her. Unconsciously, she cried out wildly, shuddering with ecstasy. Rafe finally surrendered control, bracing his hand against the whitewashed wall, and he joyfully plunged deeper into her, moaning softly with relief that he could now give himself over to the feel of her.
The raw intensity took them both by surprise, neither having felt it like this before, and once they had tasted it they were both insatiably hungry for more. They spent the long hours of the night entwined in a fervour of desire.
By the first pink light of dawn, Sage had drifted blissfully off to sleep, safe in the security she now felt wrapped in Rafe’s strong arms and the deep, inextricable intimacy that enveloped them both.
The sun began its trajectory across the sky at about eight o’clock; Helios rising cautiously into the firmament, his golden rays beaming through the gaps in the curtains, making particles of dust shimmer and dance against the shadows of the half-light.
Sage woke disorientated as she was not used to sleeping so deeply or so late, with sunshine in her eyes, to find Rafe was gone. She sat up, suddenly on full alert. Leaping out of bed, she dashed across the small landing to Hal’s room. His bed lay empty.Calm down. It’s all right, she scolded, willing herself not to panic. There was no way Santiago could have found them here, was there?
She yanked the curtain back, her palms sweating, and feltrelief instantly wash over her. Rafe, Hal and Grouse were walking along the country road below, three abreast. Hal was swinging a brown paper bag in his small, chubby hand, and Rafe was carrying three paper travel cups. Seeing Sage at the window, he called out, ‘Come down! We’ve got breakfast.’
They sat on a low stone wall looking out over Penrose Cove, devouring croissants and hot chocolate in an easy, companionable silence. Sage rested her head on Rafe’s shoulder and watched as Hal, abandoning his half-eaten pastry to a slavering Grouse, climbed down off the wall and teetered across the uneven rocks to the pale sands. The tide was far out and there were several natural rock pools into which Hal was already sticking his curious fingers. Spring was starting to emerge; songbirds whistled merrily from the rustling hedgerows, the sunshine was warm on their faces and the sky reflected its clear blue in the transparent turquoise water.
‘Snail!’ Hal cried in glee, picking one out and examining it intently.
‘We are all set up to stay here for the day, if you want to go alone to find your father?’ Rafe offered, wanting to make Sage’s day as little of an ordeal as possible.
‘Will you come with me?’ Sage asked, embarrassed. She did not want to look like a coward but she felt as though she had swallowed a hundred butterflies. She imagined her father, furious at having his solitary existence invaded, ordering her to leave, and she was not sure if she could weather that particular storm on her own.
‘Anywhere,’ he said, meaning it.
They eventually found Penrose Park Farm after several wrong turns, by which time Sage was sweating despite the morning chill. Her hands were damp and she felt as though she was having minor heart palpitations. Hal had slipped out of hisstraps and both he and Grouse were lolling out of the half-open window, their mouths hanging open.
