Page 34 of One Summer Weekend
Chapter Ten
I could still, when I chose, remember so much about that summer with Troy: the glamour of the commonplace when you’re in love … the intensity of sharing another person’s life … the waking each morning to a languorous heat. A different heat from the glare outside – the heat of a man’s body, half-wrapping mine. The aftermath of making love in the cool of the night.
There’d been a sensuous rhythm to our days together. Each morning I knew that another day was starting, just like the last: a day of being taken to new places – and not all of them points on a map of California. For, in the hands of an expert, I was pursuing a separate journey – one of discovery, desperation, delight. Except that, when you find yourself scaling the heights, you’re bound tocrash and burn.
And now here Iam again, waking to that glorious heat; his limbs heavy on mine, in remembrance of pleasures past, in anticipation of pleasures to come…
Still sleepy, I smiled and stretched, wriggled my body further under his and felt him respond, instantly.Oh yes, my love, breakfast will just have to wait…
Hang on, you’re not Troy—
‘How in hell’s name—?’I must have uttered it out loud, because he stirred and shifted; but his weight still pinned me to the bed.
‘Getoffme,’ I said, shrill with panic, struggling to free myself.
He opened one eye, and his mouth spread into a smile. ‘If you ask nicely—’
‘Where are all the cushions?’ My voice sank to a hoarse whisper. ‘What have you done with them?’It’s not really about the bloodycushions, though, is it? It’s what theystandfor …
At last he moved, propping himself up on one elbow and allowing me to breathe more easily; but his lower body stayed where it was. I risked a glance at his bare chest, then lifted my gaze hurriedly to his face.
His brows were drawn together in a frown. ‘What haveIdone with them? It was you that started it.’
A sudden chillran through me. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You were talking in your sleep, getting upset …’
‘What was I saying?’
An odd look. ‘Nothing I could make out. Why?’
I swallowed. ‘And then?’
‘You flung the cushions out of the way, and I put my arm round you, and you calmed down.’
‘Is thatall?’ I couldn’t bring myself to say any more.
He stared at me in narrow-eyedsilence, until I couldn’t bear it. I looked abruptly away, in the direction of the window, at the sunlight streaming through the thin red curtains. The wood pigeon was back, but this morning its chuntering felt like mockery.
When he spoke, his voice was laced with sarcasm. ‘Didn’t I say you’d be safe with me – or is your opinion of men so low that you don’t believe a word they tell you?Bit of a problem for a coach – maybe you should think of a career change!’
I resisted turning my head; I didn’t want to give away the sadness in my eyes, or see the anger in his.
‘Alicia.’ His voice was soft now, the touch of his fingers on my cheek strangely tentative, yet it told him all he needed to know. ‘Why are you crying?’
When I didn’t answer, he levered his body up andacross so that he was kneeling either side of me. He was wearing boxers, thank God, whereas Troy had always slept naked. But then, all that summer, so had I …
Jack’s hand cupped my face and pulled it round with gentle force, so that at last I met his searching gaze.
‘Why did you kiss me last night?’ he said.
‘I told you—’
‘Tell me the truth.’
Should I? Would it helpme to heal – or would it ruin everything?I stared into his waiting blue-green eyes and took the plunge into deep, deep water. ‘You accused me of being joyless. Well, believe it or not, this weekend I’ve remembered what joy feels like. And kissing you was a part of that, as well as a – a way of thanking you.’
‘Is crying a part of that, too?’ he said, and very carefully brushed my hair awayfrom my damp cheek; an oddly tender gesture that did nothing for my self-control. As I squeezed my eyes shut, he went on, ‘He must have been very special, the man who makes you cry.’
