Capture. Flora Dain
vaguely and back away to the door.
A few hours earlier I’d have taken no notice. But I’m still chilly from shock. It’s no time to dismiss cave trolls out of hand. I feel his eyes on my back as I hurry out into the welcome sunshine and catch up with Darnley.
He folds his arm round me. ‘You done?’ He nods to Freda. ‘Let me know if you hear anything. We’d better get back.’
Freda’s cool downward glance sweeps me again and then she turns away.
* * *
On the way back we say little. This time Darnley drives.
I’m still seething over this morning. He’s being simply Darnley. Silent and stern, alone with his thoughts. The set of his jaw hints they’ll stay his for a while.
As we come in sight of his sleek beachfront mansion I fold my arms and jut my chin. ‘So, are you going to apologise?’
He pulls his damaged convertible to a purring halt and turns to look at me, his eyes cold. ‘For what?’
I’m getting emotional now. It’s been a trying day. ‘For treating your new fiancée like a tramp. For humiliating me in front of the people I’m supposed to teach. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep your dignity in a classroom? It’s crucial. And all for …’ I tail off. Don’t push this, I think.
‘For what?’
Cross now, I say it anyway. ‘For Freda,’ I mutter.
To my fury he grins. ‘Still bitching about Freda? Hey. Lighten up. We survived your driving, we can survive anything, even her. Come on in. We’ll clean you up and then –’ He kisses me unexpectedly on the cheek.
‘And then?’ I glower back.
He grins. ‘And then we’ll get you all dirty again.’
* * *
I feel better after some coffee. When he’s sure I’ve calmed down he hustles me into the shower and we linger under the jet. He smears gel all over my softest places and then teases me in the hardest of ways, with cold and hot water, and with firm caresses of his busy hands, until I’m warm, refreshed – and eager.
When he finally bundles me up in a towel and scoops me up in his arms I’m shrieking in protest and drumming my fists on his back. ‘You can’t do this. Put me down.’
‘Sure thing, ma’am. Right here?’
I land on my back and sprawl out on the bed as he lands on top of me. He musses my hair with the towel in a token attempt to dry it and then fastens his mouth on mine, splaying my arms wide and pinning me down with his tongue and his powerful, gym-honed body until my giggles die away, stifled in my throat. Soon I’m kissing him back, easy and content, warm and damp from the shower and his growing impatience.
‘You sleepy now? I owe you an apology.’
I open my eyes with a snap. ‘You do? That’s a first. I don’t want to miss that.’
I’m genuinely mystified – it’s not a word I’ve ever heard him use. And now the gleam in his eyes tells me it’s not for what he did to me this morning … it’s for what he left out.
He’s kneeling up over me, laughing. ‘I’ve been neglecting you since this morning. I think you need some serious attention. Hold still. Put your arms up over your head. I want a good view of your tits while I do this.’
Grinning now I obey. Instantly I clench as he kneels between my knees, spreads my thighs wide and starts to drop soft, gentle kisses all down the inside of one thigh and up the inside of the other, before swooping down on my splayed, pulsing gap. He gives me a slow, roguish smile, lowers his head and starts to feast.
His tongue is so busy and so urgent I find it impossible to keep still. Soon I give up the struggle and my hands fly down to his head. I thread my fingers deep into his hair in a futile attempt to pull him away, if only to give my flaring, scorching arousal a breather from his busy mouth. ‘Stop, stop. It’s so intense. I can’t –’ I break off and gasp. For some reason, all unbidden, tears are coursing down my hair and into the pillows.
He raises his head and frowns. ‘Ella? What’s up?’
‘I can’t – I’m so sorry. It’s too much. I thought …’
His eyes narrow as he surges up to join me, his expression stern. ‘What? What did you think?’
I stare at him as the reality of what I’ve been thinking hits me like a stone. ‘I thought you were angry with me. I thought …’
I tail off again, scared of going on, like saying it will somehow make it come true. I thought he’d stopped loving me.
I shake myself. I’m getting weepy. It must be delayed shock …
‘Nothing,’ I grin weakly as his cruel, slow smile brings me back to my senses. I feel a flare of heat deep down and a flame of arousal so fierce I wonder if he senses it. ‘Don’t stop,’ I murmur. ‘Please.’
His eyes narrow as he curves over my body and raises himself up on his arms. The power in his gaze shreds my will as his eyes burn into me. My feeble protest at his intimate, controlling caress has stirred something dark inside him, something feral.
‘Too late.’
His low growl rumbles through me like distant thunder. The effect settles in my groin and sets up a steady, nagging pulse.
‘You missed your chance. Now it’s my turn.’ He’s nudging my thighs apart with his knee as he flows over me in a lithe, unstoppable flood of power and muscle, his eyes pinning me into submission. And with a grunt he plunges inside, his first thrust sending me into hyperspace as my trembling belly clutches round him and grips him tight.
His dark smile warns me he can feel my hunger and knows I’m powerless in his grip. He withdraws slowly, his eyes searching my face, watching every trace of my reaction. His next plunge ebbs away just as slowly and sets our rhythm. Soon we’re fusing together, my hips arching to meet him, matching my own pleasure to every touch of his pounding loins.
His flood of energy takes me over and I’m afloat on his tide. Each powerful thrust fills me up, each slow, lingering withdrawal draws me to him. The heat in his gaze as he finally brings me to fruition stirs my heart.
He touches his lips to mine, murmurs soft things into my ear, scolds me for not paying attention when my looming orgasm starts to transport me, and finally leans down close, threading his fingers into my wet hair as he shudders to his own completion.
It tells me that however grim his thoughts were on the way home, and however much I still resent that scary, alpha-male demo thing in my boat, he still loves me and needs me.
And I love him too.
* * *
‘The attacks mostly take place just north of San Francisco. Nobody has so far been hurt or directly molested but state police warn some bizarre aspects of the attacks suggest the attacker may need help. Today’s weather? Mild and sunny inland but if you’re on the beaches take care in those foggy stretches. And now for news closer to home …’
I switch off the radio and pour myself another cup of coffee. No Darnley this morning. He’s vanished into the fog, along with the glorious views of the bay from his windows, and the warm Californian sun.
He’s gone over to the complex on business, the convertible is in for repair and a respray and I’ve got a date with my boat.
They’re right about the fog. As I make my way down to the beach thick mist settles over me in a damp, white blanket. It mats my hair, chills my skin and muffles my footsteps as I crunch my way down the shingle.
No chance of skinny-dipping in this – even without Darnley on hand to demand a forfeit. Without its fabled sunshine the air out here is dank enough for New England,