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CHAPTER EIGHT
SHE knew exactly when Josh fell asleep.
Felt his strong body relax in her arms, heard his breathing steady and she lay still, savouring the sheer perfection of the moment.
After their wild, passionate encounter on the cliff, he’d carried her back to the car and then driven back home with one hand on the wheel and one hand on her leg, the frequent glances he cast in her direction assuring her that he felt the same need and urgency as she did.
And the moment he’d opened the door to his house, he’d shown her just what he’d felt. With his hands and his mouth, he’d driven her to heights that she hadn’t known existed and he’d made love to her again and again until she’d thought she’d just die from the pleasure.
It had to end, of course.
No night, however perfect, could last for ever and she stared out of the tall windows of his bedroom, which overlooked the beach, and saw the sun rising. Kat wanted to reach out and stop it, she wanted to cry out and beg for just one more hour of night before daylight came, because somewhere during the evening, or maybe even before, she’d fallen in love with Josh Sullivan.
But the passage of time cut through pleasure like the blade of a knife and the sun mocked her as it rose and threw light into the early morning.
The night was over.
It was time for her to leave.
And she knew it was up to her. She needed to take control and walk away, while her pride was still intact. She’d gone into his arms thinking of nothing but lust but she was leaving them thinking of nothing but love, and those weren’t thoughts she could risk sharing with him.
Josh Sullivan didn’t fall in love. He didn’t want commitment.
And she couldn’t afford to give more of herself than she already had. As it was, she couldn’t imagine going back to her life, the way it had been only yesterday.
Before Josh.
She couldn’t imagine never having this again, never again sharing this level of intimacy with a man.
Safe in the knowledge that he slept, she allowed her fingers to trace the strong muscle of his shoulder, to drift downwards and brush the dark hairs that dusted his chest.
Every part of her ached. Her senses, her body, but most of all her heart.
It was definitely time to leave.
* * *
Josh woke to find the bed empty.
He lay still for a moment, registering the strength of the sunlight blazing through the window, registering the silence. There was no clatter of coffee-cups. No sizzle of bacon frying. The emptiness closed around him.
Kat was gone.
With a soft curse he swung his legs out of bed and padded over to the window that faced her cottage, but there was no sign of her.
He glanced at the pile of clothes next to his bed.
There was no sign of her torn, blue dress and there was no sign of his shirt.
He raked long fingers through his roughened dark hair and swore fluently. He remembered the soft little cries she’d made as he’d explored every inch of her. He remembered the way she’d slid her hands over his back and urged him on, urged him to go faster, harder, and he let out a sharp breath and ran a hand over his face.
How could she just leave after last night? Hadn’t it meant anything to her?
Of course it had meant something to her.
He knew it had.
So why had she left?
