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He slipped the man a tip which made the waiter’s, ‘And a very merry Christmas to you, sir, madam,’ positively euphoric as he left, and as Melody joined him at the table Zeke pulled out a chair, unfolding her napkin and placing it in her lap as she sat down. ‘May I serve the first course, madam?’
Lifting the covers off two delicate white-and-silver bowls, he revealed creamy, steaming soup which smelt divine. ‘I didn’t order this.’ Melody glanced into his dark face.
‘I thought we’d do it properly.’ He slid a fresh crusty roll onto a small plate next to her soup and then took his own place at the table. ‘Eat,’ he ordered softly.
The soup was as delicious as it smelt, and the salmon which followed equally good. Zeke talked of inconsequential matters with a comfortable ease which relaxed Melody in spite of herself, teasing her a little and making her laugh, his humour gentle and self-deprecating. Lulled into a mellow state of mind by Zeke’s lazy air, the light yet satisfying food and the wine she sipped almost unconsciously, Melody found herself drifting in a haze of well-being. She felt calm and peaceful inside, she realised with a little shock of self-awareness. For the first time in months. It was such an alien sensation.
By the time Zeke brought out the desserts Melody was sure she couldn’t eat another thing, but the Madeira cake spread with lemon curd, dosed with limoncello liqueur and topped off with raspberries and a mascarpone custard was the perfect end to a perfect meal and she ate every morsel. Replete, she finished the last of her wine, and when Zeke got up from the table and pulled her over to one of the sofas, sitting down beside her, she didn’t protest.
‘It’s midnight,’ he murmured after a moment or two, his voice smoky-soft. ‘Happy Christmas, darling.’
Darling. He shouldn’t call her darling, she thought, but then she pushed the reasoning behind it away, not wanting anything to intrude on the moment. She watched as he reached into his pocket, bringing out a small package which he handed her, kissing her once very lightly. ‘What is it?’ she said suspiciously.
‘Open it and see.’
‘Zeke, I didn’t want anything—’
‘Shush.’ His mouth was harder, more insistent, and this time the kiss left her entire body trembling when he raised his head. ‘Open it,’ he said again, his voice husky.
The eternity ring was exquisite: sparkling diamonds and emeralds set into a delicate ring of white gold. When Zeke slid it onto her finger it nestled perfectly between her wedding ring and engagement ring, which was a beautiful thing in itself, with emeralds clustered round a magnificent diamond. Melody stared down at the glittering stones, anguish vying with other emotions she couldn’t even bring a name to. She pressed the palms of her hands onto her eyes, hating herself for what she was doing to him.
Zeke gently brought her fingers away from her face by grasping her wrists, his dark eyes gazing into her tormented ones when she stared at him. He had aged in the past three months, she realised with a little shock of mortification. Time had become ingrained in the features of his face, the way it did when someone had suffered unbearable bereavement or loss. Had he unconsciously let go of her? In some deep recess of his mind had he known what they’d had was over? Was that it? Knowing Zeke as she did, he would have fought such a feeling. He would have felt he was letting her down.
‘I love you,’ he said simply. ‘That’s all this means. I will always love you. This feeling isn’t optional. It’s not something I can turn on and off. When you came into my life I thought I was doing all right, that I was autonomous, cool—call it what you will. Your arrival was unexpected and unsolicited. I wasn’t looking for for ever. I don’t think I even understood the notion until you stood on that stage and danced your way into my heart.’
Her breath caught in her throat. ‘I can’t dance any more.’
‘But you are here. That’s all that matters.’ He lowered his head until their lips were millimetres apart. ‘You have to believe that, Dee, because I don’t know how to convince you beyond saying it and showing you how much I love you.’
With a soft exhalation she accepted his mouth on hers. She fell against him, needing his strength, his maleness, his overwhelming virility, all the qualities she’d missed so deeply. He kissed her heavy eyelids, one after the other, pressing them closed as though he knew she needed to shut everything but the feel and taste of him out of her mind. Melody found herself in a velvety darkness made up entirely of what his body was doing to hers, her desire mounting as he deliberately deepened the kiss until the reality of the touch and taste and smell of him was irresistible, a fire which burnt everything in its path. She wanted him. She ached with it.
He picked her up in his arms, carrying her towards his bedroom. He manoeuvred the door open and carried her over the threshold as gently as if she were a china figurine. Kicking the door shut behind him, he walked into the dark bedroom, lit only by the soft shadowed glow of a bedside lamp he must have left on earlier.
Melody tensed as he laid her down on the bed, but instantly he was beside her, wrapping his arms round her in a gesture intended to reassure and comfort. There was no force, no urgency, his mouth caressing her lips with small kisses that gave pleasure without demanding a response.
Her breasts were pressed against the hard wall of his chest, and slowly and repetitively Zeke began stroking her back, his mouth moving all over her face in the same swift kisses as his fingers carefully worked down her spine from her tense shoulders to the seductive flare of her hips. Gradually she relaxed again, her body curving into his as his lips returned to her mouth and he kissed her more deeply, his skilful hands and mouth evoking the burning desire she remembered from the past.
When he removed the robe she was barely aware of it, and then he pulled the pyjama top over her head, caressing the silky skin of her throat and shoulders and nuzzling at the hollow of her collarbone before kissing her breasts one by one. She moaned deep in her throat when his mouth seized one nipple, giving it exquisite attention before moving to the other, and now her hands moved feverishly over his flesh, pulling the shirt away from his body so she could run her fingers over the hair-roughened muscle rippling with each movement he made.
Her mouth moved where her fingers had explored, her tongue curling round a copper nipple that beaded at her touch. She could taste a faint saltiness on his skin, the smell of lemon from the soap he used mingling with a more earthy scent. She had told him once in the early days of their marriage that she thought he was beautiful and he’d laughed, saying only women were beautiful. But he was wrong. He was beautiful, his body as powerful and perfectly honed as the statues of the old Greek gods that graced Mount Olympus.
‘I’ve missed this,’ he murmured huskily. ‘Not necessarily the sex but being able to hold you, to know that you’re there, that I only have to stretch out my hand to touch you.’
She knew what he meant. There were some things more intimate than the act of intercourse—small actions between a couple that spoke of a relationship, of sharing, of being committed.
‘Mind you, sex is great,’ he added in a hoarse whisper as her hand felt for his arousal, finding the taut flesh between his legs and stroking it. ‘I’m not advocating celibacy.’
The dark shadows gave her the confidence to flow with what was happening, and when he removed her pyjama bottoms and the rest of his own clothes her arms reached for him, pulling him on top of her. She wasn’t allowing herself to think. If she thought her conscience would force her to stop this, unfair on him as it was, because this one night wouldn’t change anything. And so she didn’t think. She just felt and touched and tasted.
Now he was naked her hand circled and caressed his huge erection again, knowing she was inflicting a pleasure-pain as he groaned and caught her wrist. ‘We’re going to take this slow and easy,’ he breathed raggedly. ‘We’ve waited too long to rush things, but I’m only human, Dee.’
His eyes glittered like an animal’s in the near darkness, his face planes and hollows, and she reached up and placed her palms along either side of his face. Although he had shaved earlier the stubble already coming through gave his skin a rough, sandpapery texture that was at odds with the boyish quiff falling across his forehead. ‘Tonight it’s just me and you,’ she whispered breathlessly. ‘No past, no future, just the present. I want to make love to you, Zeke. I want to feel you inside me again.’
‘Not as much as I want to be there.’ He kissed her again, a kiss she more than matched,
but when she tried to guide him into her again he removed her hand. ‘Later,’ he murmured. ‘We have all the time in the world.’
He began to touch and taste every inch of her body, teasing her with a slow sensuality that had her mindless and panting beneath his ministrations. Her skin became sensitised all over, the feminine core of her throbbing and swelling as she twisted and quivered under his mouth and hands.
