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He said, 'Cally, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you glaring down at me from the back of your horse that first day. I was severely tempted to drag you out of the saddle and ravish you in the bracken there and then. Instead I behaved incredibly well, and tried to ask for your grandfather's permission. I told you that.'
'Yes—but you never told me you loved me.' She spread her hands almost helplessly. 'Not even once. You never—mentioned the word.'
He sighed. 'My lovely one, how could I? Bad things were happening to you, one after the other, and making passionate advances to you seemed totally inappropriate—particularly when you were mourning your grandfather.'
His mouth twisted. 'I decided to wait until we had moonlight, and a beach, and maybe palm trees. And then I'd go on my knees and tell you exactly how much I loved you. Lay my heart at your feet.'
He paused again. 'Besides,' he said carefully, 'I thought I'd made my intentions—and my feelings—quite clear when we went on that picnic. That was the third part of my plan.'
'You had a plan?' She shook her head. 'I don't understand.'
'My sweet,' Nick said gently. 'You were so young, you almost broke my heart. So I told myself I had to take it easy. First—I had to get you to like me. Second—I needed you to trust me. I thought—I hoped—that I'd succeeded pretty well in both of them. Then, thirdly, of course, I wanted you to enjoy being in bed with me.' He grimaced. 'I told myself afterwards I should have made that my first priority. That everything else would have naturally followed.
'But you didn't hesitate to face me down that first day, Cally. So why the hell didn't you confront me over Vanessa?' His voice was suddenly husky. 'I can only think it was because you didn't care enough, and if that's true, I don't know how I’m going to bear it. How I m going to be able to live the rest of my life without you.'
She said softly, 'I didn't dare ask. I was too afraid of what your answer might be to take the risk. I just wanted to get away as far as possible and die, because you'd broken my heart. You see, I fell in love with you, too, Nick-—that first day.' A smile trembled on her lips. 'And I'm sorry you decided against the bracken.'
For the first time his own mouth relaxed into the ghost of his old grin. 'On reflection, it was the right choice. Bloody uncomfortable, bracken. Sheets are infinitely preferable, and pillows—and you, my love,' he added softly. 'My wonderful, precious girl, wearing nothing but my wedding ring.'
She walked slowly towards him. 'Is that another of your plans—for the next hour or two?'
Nick lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. 'Make that a lifetime,' he whispered.
They lay holding each other and kissing. Savouring the brush and cling of each other's lips-—the sensuous play of tongues. Until kissing became no longer enough.
Nick's hands were gentle as he began to unfasten the buttons on the turquoise dress. Cally arched towards him so that he could remove it completely, then, as he too began to undress, slipped swiftly and easily out of her underwear so that when he turned back to her she was waiting, just as he'd described.
Suddenly ridiculously self-conscious, she said, 'Adele told me I'm getting as big as a house.'
'Forget Adele, and her poison,' he commanded softly. 'And it's not true, anyway. You're only a very small cottage.'
He looked down at her lingeringly, his fingers drifting over her newly rounded nakedness with a kind of reverence.
'Oh my darling,' he whispered unsteadily. 'Do you know how beautiful you are?'
She wasn't a beauty, and never had been, but she looked into his eyes and knew that was how he saw her. And that there were tears in the grey gaze adoring her with such tenderness.
It was as if every dream she had ever had was suddenly true, and with a small, inarticulate cry she pulled him down to her, reaching for him, her hand clasping him, guiding him between her thighs—then inside her, into the sweet molten core where he belonged.
Because she was so ready for him, and so very much more than willing.
Her body closed on him. Held him. Then moved with him slowly and softly in the first steps of love's dance. He treated her with infinite care, each powerful thrust of his body tempered with restraint. And she smiled against his mouth, making a few delicate adjustments, deliberately calculated to sabotage his self-control completely. Setting herself to wring every last atom of sensation from his strong male flesh.
Because she wanted him back, her passionate, skilful lover, who'd taught her all the enticements of desire during those long, fierce nights together. And she wanted him unguarded, vulnerable, and wholly hers—as, perhaps, he had never been before.
