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‘Did you have anyone to support you? Friends? A partner?’
‘Sally was my friend. Her family was my family. My partner was...well, we weren’t all that serious, we both worked pretty long hours. It wasn’t the kind of relationship that stood any real test.’
That was it. The words were finally out, and they brought more tears with them. Sam hardly registered that his arms were around her, pulling her against his chest, cradling her while she wept.
‘This isn’t...’ Finally she managed to gulp some words out. ‘This isn’t any good, Euan. It doesn’t change anything.’
‘No. Not for Sally it doesn’t. Maybe for you, though?’
He might be right. She did feel different. She wasn’t sure yet whether different was going to turn out to be better. ‘I’m not the one that matters.’ Sam was becoming acutely aware that she was practically sitting on his lap. That her fingers were clutching at his shirt. She let go, smoothing the bunched fabric, and suddenly all she could feel was the skin beneath. Hard and warm.
‘You matter.’ His tenderness was becoming a little too much to bear. ‘I was wrong when I said that this, all that you’re doing here, is your phoenix.’
The beautiful glass phoenix, which shone in the light and which suddenly seemed just a poor counterfeit of his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s your penance, isn’t it?’
How could she defend herself from something that was true? ‘I don’t know about that.’ Sam got to her feet and walked away from him.
His footsteps crunched on the shingle behind her. ‘Do you think you should talk about this? Give yourself permission to cry about it a little?’
She twisted round to face him again. ‘I’ve already done that, haven’t I?’
‘I meant with other people. In the kind of group that we run.’
‘I don’t know.’ Maybe she should. Not talking about it clearly hadn’t worked as well as she had intended.
‘Perhaps you should think about it.’ He let the silence work on her. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore.
‘Would you...? I mean, could I join one of the groups here? One of your groups?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I can give you the name of someone else who runs a group, up in London.’
The rejection cut her to the bone. It hadn’t seemed as if he was judging her, but he had, and he’d found her wanting. Of course he had. She’d done the very same herself.
‘Okay. I’ll think about it.’ She heard her own voice, brisk, as if this was some kind of business agreement. Covering the hurt.
Euan caught her arm. ‘It’s not what you think.’
‘What isn’t?’ How the hell did Euan know what she was thinking when she wasn’t even sure herself?
‘Our groups have rules. I can’t let you join one of them.’
‘Why?’ Somewhere, deep in his eyes, Sam thought she saw the answer, sparking and fizzling. No. Surely not.
‘Because of this.’ He brushed his thumb across her lips. She could pull away at any time. She didn’t need to go any further. Who was she trying to kid?
She was mesmerised by his eyes. His mouth curled into a smile and hers followed suit. He drew closer, an unspoken question on his lips, and in response to Sam’s unspoken answer his fingers slid along her jaw, burying themselves in her hair.
Reaching for him, she curled her arm around his neck, pulling him closer. When his lips brushed against her cheek Sam forgot all the reasons why this wasn’t such a good idea.
He stopped, his mouth barely an inch from hers. ‘This is the best part.’
Waiting. Her whole body felt as if it might melt in his arms. ‘Wondering whether you’ll kiss me?’
‘Wondering what it’ll be like when I do.’ She felt his lips curl against hers.
‘We could do this for hours...’ Sam could stare into his honest eyes, feel his body against hers, warm and protective, for as long as she liked.
