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Mirabel
EthanandIwerein Antibes, enjoying a three-day break. We’d left Cian at Merivale in the arms of his doting grandmother and a legion of staff. As I placed my son in her hands, she’d given me a faint smile, the warmest she’d ever been.
As someone who was also guarded, I recognised that choking trait well enough. As Sheridan often reminded me, early traumas tended to stalk us into adulthood and, when ignored, robbed us of happiness. I still had some work to do. Not that I’d suffered as badly as Caroline Lovechilde. But I’d had enough bad relationships to collect a few scars along the way. Thanks to Ethan and his sweet, loving ways, the armour I once wore now rattled in a box of useless memories.
For now, I just hoped Ethan’s mother wouldn’t turn into a monster-in-law. Ethan kept reassuring me that could never happen under his watch. I just had to go with the flow and not expect the worst. In any case, trying to control the future was tantamount to not leaving the house in case of an accident. Losing my parents when I was a teenager had probably shaped this, at times, paralysing fear of the unexpected.
Ethan surprised me every day. He always came through the door bearing flowers, expensive wine, handmade chocolates, and toys for our son. He loved to spoil us, even though I didn’t need anything but us there together.
He would sit and watch me practice, which was weird but nice. After spending a lot of time alone, I had to get used to that. We also couldn’t take our hands off each other. All the time. Hot, hungry sex followed by tender, heart-swelling affection.
I hardly recognised this new light and boundless me. Not only had I found my soulmate, but I no longer felt the need to save the world. What a huge, unsolvable burden that proved to be. Like I was running a marathon without a finish line.
Hand in hand, we strolled along the shore. Despite joggers, dog walkers, excitable children splashing about, and people lounging back on canvas chairs, it felt like we were in our own little universe.
“This is like an advert for a dating site.” I gazed at Ethan, the consummate sexy leading man in loose drawstring pants rolled up to his knees. His blue shirt was half undone and flapping in the breeze.
I wore a white summery dress that Ethan had paid a fortune for.
“We’re just a happy couple on holiday.” He stopped walking and stared into my eyes. “Have I told you how you grow more beautiful each day?”
I smiled. “Only just this morning when I was looking yuck, after our big night.” My raised eyebrow referred to a risqué moment we’d shared at a ritzy restaurant.
“It was a great night. And memorable. A first.” His eyes shone with sinful pleasure.
“Oh really? So you’ve never fingered anyone in public before?”
“Well, not atthatrestaurant.”
I rolled my eyes.
He took my hand. “Hey, remember we promised to leave our past behind?”
“Yes. I guess. But you were the one that said it was your first. You started it.” I made a circle in the sand with my toe.
He wrapped his arm around me and pressed his firm chest against my ear. “In any case, you’re the one that went all commando on me. I couldn’t resist. And this is the land of love.”
I laughed at his French accent, sounding more like inspector Clouseau than a man of style.
“And you should know, right?” I slanted my head and smirked.
“What did I just say?” He gave me his “I’m going to spank you” look, which fired me up. “Let’s just accept that we were both equally wild.”
I persisted, nevertheless. “But it was still a first?”
“Yes. It was.” He picked up a shell and tossed it into the water.
“What? Fingering someone in a restaurant?” I wanted to know that we’d shared something fun and unique—and dangerous, recalling how I had to smile through an orgasm, instead of my normal shrill.
“A first in a Michelin-star restaurant.” His lips curved into a smile, then he chuckled as I hit him on the arm.
“You’re fucking wicked.”
“And so are you.”
Ethan was right: we needed to draw a line to our past.
We stood and looked out at the horizon. The afternoon was perfect—sunny with a light breeze. The rippling sea had gone a mood-lifting turquoise, and the air smelt of salt and oily food.
