Page 58 of The Island of Hopes and Dreams

‘Stop talking, Rhys.’

They were already so close, he could feel the warmth radiating off her. A fresh floral scent with seductive notes of jasmine and honey made him want to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her hair. She kicked off her heels, stood on tiptoes and closed the distance between them to kiss him, slowly, gently, teasingly…

He pulled away laughing. ‘Talking too much is not something anyone’s ever complained about with me.’

‘And yet you’re still talking.’

The smile she gave him reached her eyes and it wasn’t just relief that went through him at the sight, but a desire to be the person who made her smile like that every single day.

He took her advice, though, and shut the hell up. He returned the kiss with fervour, the memory of their first kiss at the restaurant an echo of this one; a kiss that made his heart and body ignite with desire and longing and love.

Taking her hand, Rhys led her through his suite, which was set around a courtyard garden with an ancient-looking olive tree threaded with lights. In the subtle lamplight, it was difficult to see where the room ended and the outside began. A small plunge pool was lit a deep turquoise, while the tiny lights entwined in the tree mirrored the stars in the clear night sky.

They sat together on the oversized beanbag lounger beneath the olive tree. Rhys pulled a throw over them as Lola snuggled against him. On the cusp of autumn, the cloudless night in a mountainous region was refreshingly cool. It reminded him of all the things he loved about autumn and winter, a time of year that made him feel alive and free, particularly when he was doing physical work or spending the day outdoors – he needed more of those things in his life – something he intended to work towards over the coming year.

‘I don’t really like cities and yet I’m visiting Paris first.’ Even keeping his voice hushed it sounded loud as he broke the silence. ‘This is my kind of place.’

Where they were nestled together half lying in the lounger, all Rhys could see was the sky, so dark and clear that if he’d known anything about the stars, he’d be able to make out the constellations. Dark cotton-wool blooms of juniper framed the view, looming beyond the white walls that enclosed the courtyard. The night was far from silent, with the cicadas keeping them company, the sigh of the breeze in the branches above, a distant tinkle of a shepherd’s bell, a cough, a peal of laughter. Even though Rhys knew their friends were close by, it felt as if it was only the two of them, and Lola was safe in his arms where she should have been all night. He pulled her closer. Her skin was warm through her dress. He breathed in her honey-sweet perfume that mixed with the aromatic thyme that sprouted in the cracks between the paving stones.

‘I like city living and love London, but I understand the appeal of somewhere like this.’ Lola glided her hand across his stomach and came to a rest against his chest, where his shirt buttons opened. ‘For me, though, it would need to have a sea view to be perfect. However much I love summer, there was something rather special about living by the coast in Devon and getting the beaches almost to myself in the colder months. I think that’s what I miss living where I do now – the freedom and space of where I grew up.’

‘That’s always been my dream.’ Rhys rested his chin on the top of her head. ‘It was never my intention to stay living in Bristol after I graduated, but I got my first teaching job, loved the school I worked at and before I knew it I’d bought a house. A place I thought would be temporary became my permanent home.’

Stuck was what he’d almost said, but that sounded far too negative. He did have the freedom to change things and do what he wanted. He had savings and skills, he just needed enough desire and courage. With Lola gently circling her fingers over his chest, he was having a hard job thinking straight, but now he had to be brave.

‘I really am sorry for letting my insecurities get the better of me earlier,’ Rhys said quietly, trying not to focus on the heat of her drifting fingers. ‘It’s easier to play the victim than face the truth when feelings are involved.’

Lola lifted her head from the crook of his shoulder. ‘Because letting someone new into your life is scarier than pushing them away?’

‘Yes.’

‘Because that’s how I feel,’ Lola said slowly. ‘But mine’s a trust issue rather than a belief in myself.’

‘I should have trusted your reason for doing what you did.’

‘And I shouldn’t have let you walk away when I knew you were hurting.’

‘I just wish I’d been there with you, like in Porto Cervo.’ Rhys skimmed his fingers over the curve of her hip.

Lola nodded. ‘I know, but you’re the one who’s with me now.’

She sealed that thought with a kiss. Her hand slid up his chest until she was cupping his stubbled cheek and they were kissing deeply, as if they couldn’t get enough of each other now the misunderstanding had been cleared up.

He had no idea how long they kissed for. It could have been ten minutes or an hour, but all he knew was he didn’t want to stop. It was lingering and explorative, sensual and certain, and the way he felt in his heart for once matched what he was thinking: that this was everything; Lola was everything to him.

His hands caressed the bare skin revealed by the low-cut back of her dress, while hers dipped beneath his unbuttoned shirt and across the top of his chest, coming to a rest over his heart. There was an unspoken understanding that this night was about comfort and companionship even if desire wove between them. His imagination went way beyond what they were doing, but his hands stopped short of his mind’s intentions.

It was only when goosebumps stole across Lola’s bare arms and he could feel her shivering that they pulled away from each other. He had no idea of the time, but with the night sky clear and dark, chill air stole beneath the cosy throw.

‘We should really get some sleep.’

At Lola’s nod of agreement, Rhys pulled her to her feet. Stifling a yawn, she looked as sleepy as he felt, but delicious with it, with her mussed-up hair and cheeks flushed from the cold.

He closed the glass doors on the terrace but didn’t bother switching on the bedside light. Lola peeled off her dress and let it pool on the floor, then she slid beneath the bedcover in just her bra and thong. He gulped back a wave of desire and unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it on the back of the chair with his trousers neatly folded. He was a creature of habit while Lola was a free spirit; they were opposites in so many ways and yet somehow they were perfect for each other.

He joined her in bed but left a gap between them. Lola’s breathing was already rhythmic and hushed, and it was only when she reached behind her for his arm and laid it across her bare stomach that he allowed himself to relax. Letting out a long, contented sigh, he snuggled close and breathed in her honey-scented hair. Holding Lola in his arms and falling asleep together was perfect. For tonight it was enough.

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