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‘Goddammit, Polly,’ he groaned. ‘I’m trying...’
‘Don’t.’
It was all he needed. With a smothered cry of frustration, of need, he gave in, his arms pulling her in tight, one hand on her back, the other tangling in her hair.
He looked one last time, searching her face and whatever he saw there was enough because he lowered his mouth to hers. Claimed her. And she allowed it. Allowed herself to lose herself in his mouth, his hands, his hard, strong body. Today at least, in this moment, it was all she could give him.
And she would give all that he could take.
CHAPTER NINE
‘OH, NO!’
Polly had barely waited until the plane had landed and the seat-belt light was switched off before she had pulled her phone out and switched it on.
Keeping busy. Avoiding conversation. Just as she had done all last night, all morning. Chatting to his mother, going on yet another guided tour with Claire, bathing Mathilde.
Avoiding conversation. Avoiding physical contact. Avoiding Gabe.
Gabe closed his eyes. It wasn’t as if he had been trying to get her alone either.
It was all too real. The taste of her, cinnamon spicy and sweet. The softness of her hair, the warmth and smoothness of her skin. The exquisite torture of her hands, roaming over him as if she could learn him by heart...
He took a long, deep breath, willing away the evocative memories. Willing away the urge to reach over, take her hands and draw her back to him. To lose himself in her again.
What had he been thinking? Necking like teenagers on a riverside path! Gabe couldn’t remember the last time he had been content to hold and be held. To kiss, to touch with no expectation, no hurry to move on to the next stage. It wasn’t just their admittedly exposed location. It was as if they were the teenage selves they had exhumed, armed with all that shy and explosive passion. No need to take it further. Content just to explore, to be.
No need to go further. Not then. And not since either.
It was probably all for the best. Every reason he had listed against getting involved with Polly still stood. Was valid. Even with the memory of the kiss thudding through him.
He opened his eyes and stared at the back of the airline seat. Yep, definitely all for the best.
‘Honestly, does he never think?’ Polly was still muttering as she glared at her phone as if it could answer her.
‘Problems?’ Gabe swung himself out of his seat and opened the overhead locker to collect their bags.
‘Grandfather.’ It was said expressively. ‘He wants to meet us at the house when we get back. My house. He’s asked Raff. It hasn’t even occurred to him that we might be tired.’
‘Why should it?’ Gabe swung Polly’s neat overnight bag down and set it onto his seat. ‘It’s not even three in the afternoon. It’s the middle of your working day. Besides, have you ever put tiredness before business before? It’s not like he knows that you’re pregnant.’
‘That’s not the point...’
‘Polly.’ He put his own bag onto the floor and turned to face her, taking in the dark circles under her eyes. She looked as if she had slept as well as he had. Was it the heat or the baby keeping her awake—or was she, like him, taunted by the memory of soft lips and caressing hands? Had she got out of bed several times, determined to creep down the landing hall to tap at his door only to fall back onto the bed unsure what to say, what to do?
‘You need to tell him.’
She turned the full force of her glare on him but Gabe simply shouldered her bag and collected his own. ‘It’s time, Polly. Everything’s looking good. You’ve accepted it. You need your family.’
She blinked, the long dark lashes falling in confusion. ‘My family isn’t like yours. We don’t do unconditional love.’
‘Then it’s time you changed that,’ he said and walked off along the nearly empty aisle.
She didn’t speak to him again as they exited the airport and found their way to her car and this time, when Gabe held out his hand for her keys, she didn’t protest, handing them over almost absent-mindedly. He had expected her to spend the journey back to Hopeford as she had every other moment that day, tapping on her laptop or phone or scribbling in her notebook, but she simply laid her head back on the headrest and stared out of the window.
It didn’t take them long; the small airport was conveniently close to Hopeford and it was less than an hour later when Gabe turned into the narrow lane and parked outside the cottage. An old red Porsche was already parked there along with a Mercedes saloon.
‘Great, the cavalry are already here.’
Gabe shot her a concerned look. Where was the cool, collected Polly, in charge of everything and everyone? Where was the insistently questioning Polly, forcing him to face up to some unpalatable truths?
