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He shook his head. “No protection.”
“Shit!” Her blue eyes flew wide and she lifted shaking fingers to her lips. “Shit!” She lifted herself away from him quickly, her body weak from the pleasure that was still running over her body like warm oil. “That was… crazy.”
“Mmm,” he agreed with a shrug. “Crazy amazing.”
Carrie shook her head. “But you’re … you didn’t …”
“No.” He stood, so that he could dress himself, then he caught her hands in his and pulled her up. He knelt before her, lifted her skirt and straightened her underwear. He kissed the smooth flesh of her flat stomach and met her eyes seriously. “There is time, Carrie. All the time in the world.”
Her heart turned over at the promise that neither of them wanted to make. Not really. After all, time would run out on them. They both knew it. In that wonderful moment, that slice of time out of time, she didn’t want to acknowledge it though.
She looked away and swallowed past the unwelcome lump of emotion that had formed in her throat. “Where are we?” Her voice was a whisper, a strange sounding noise to her own ears.
“Home.”
She wasn’t really concentrating. Her mind was backlogged; her brain confused. Gael stood and tangled his fingers with hers, pulling her towards the upper deck.
“Home?” Her sluggish mind finally stirred to life as they emerged out into the fresh sea air.
His smile transformed his face, it was almost boyish in its simple delight.
“This is where I grew up.”
Carrie turned her attention fully to the island that loomed before them. “What is this place?”
“Sol Sobre El Mar.” Even the name sounded magical. She breathed it in, absorbed it, and tasted it on her lips, repeating it in the same accented way.
“What does it mean?” She asked, watching as the crew they hadn’t seen during the voyage tied the boat fast to the pier.
“Sun rising over the sea.”
“Gorgeous,” she whispered.
“Si. It is a small island, but prosperous in its way.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said honestly, studying the pristine shoreline and bright white buildings speckled over the cliff side. In the distance of the cove, little fishing boats bobbed brightly on the shimmering sea.
“I lived here until I was ten.” He squeezed her hand and began to guide her off the boat. She smiled at the crew as they passed.
“Until the divorce?” She pushed sympathetically.
“Si. My father took me to Barcelona for a time. Until I started boarding school.”
Carrie shook her head, feeling sadness for the boy he had been, plucked from the arms of a mother he adored; a mother who adored him.
“And your mum stayed here?” Carrie continued her quiet questioning, pleased when Gael didn’t shut down.
“My mother had lived here all her life. Her father was a fisherman in the village. She stayed, and got a job as a cook at a local restaurant.”
“I’d like to meet her some time.” Carrie frowned as the words escaped her. Where had that come from? Meeting his mother spoke of a commitment she didn’t feel – a commitment they would never pledge. She shook her head. “I mean, you know, or not.”
He nodded gruffly, understanding why she’d tacked the ‘back out’ comment onto the end of her statement. It had surprised him too. But then, bringing her to Sol Sobre El Mar had also shocked the hell out of him.
A shining black convertible was waiting, parked on the sandy grass edge of the beach. Gael slipped some keys from his pocket, clicked a button then opened the front passenger door for her.
“You know, there are times where you remind me distinctly of James Bond,” she said sardonically, slipping into the seat.
