Page 90 of Coming Home to Sturcombe Bay
He took a few seconds to slide a gossamer sheath onto his hard length, then as she arched beneath him, taking him into her, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, their mouths meeting — fierce, mutually demanding.
After that there was nothing but fire, fast and furious, dangerous. They moved together in a primitive rhythm — there was no slow, no steady, just a raw hunger, so intense that she felt as if it would consume her.
Molten heat was pooling low in her stomach and pulsing through her veins, dizzying her. A low, purring growl escaped her throat, and she felt her spine curl as she responded instinctively to his every movement, their bodies melding together as one.
A fever was burning through her as she spun out of control, spiralling higher and dizzyingly higher, until she heard her own voice crying out, felt him tense in her arms, and they fell together, both utterly spent.
* * *
Liam lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling as the first light of dawn crept into the sky. It wasn’t his ceiling, it wasn’t his bed. Beside him, Cassie lay sleeping quietly. It had been an incredible night, with an incredible woman.
He had thought he could never feel like this again. Love . . . It had seemed like an impossible dream . . .
But now the dream was slipping away, reality was seeping back—all the doubts and dilemmas. Maybe he could somehow persuade her to stay. But in a few weeks, a few months, would that restless spirit stir again, luring her away?
Maybe this time he could go with her . . . But that thought was dismissed before it was barely formed. Robyn. He couldn’t take his little daughter away from all the people she loved — her grandparents, her aunt and uncle, her cousin, her friends. The home she had known for all her five years.
And then there was Natalie’s parents. Today was the day he was due to take her for her monthly visit to them. Losing Natalie had broken their hearts. He couldn’t do that to them again.
And what if she stayed? Robyn had adjusted well to losing her mother. Could he really ask her to make another adjustment — a major one? It had been just the two of them for the past three years, and they had got along very well.
She liked Cassie, but that was different to having her as a stepmother. That could confuse her. What if she felt Cassie had come between them? What if she resented it? She could end up hating him, as well as Cassie.
Very carefully, so as not to disturb her sleep, he slipped out of bed and picked up her dress. Such a lovely dress. A soft waft of the perfume she had been wearing drifted around him. Shaking his head with regret, he shook it out and laid it carefully over the back of a chair.
She didn’t stir as he picked up his own clothes and padded through into the lounge, closing the door silently behind him. Dressing quickly and slipping on his shoes, he strolled over to the French window, opening it to step out onto the small balcony.
The stars were gone. In the west the sky was still a deep indigo, but in the east it was shading to a pale silvery blue, washed with misty gold, the sea shimmering like mother-of-pearl. The air was cool. He breathed in slowly, struggling to clear his head.
Ten years ago he had been shocked, angry, hurt when she had walked away. Then slowly he had come to realise that it had been the right thing for her to do. He had been assuming that she wanted the same things he did, that she would be content to spend her life in this small, tucked-away seaside village. He should have known that she could never be content with that.
And though he had never quite stopped loving her, he had been able to lock that love away in some deep, secret vault in his heart, never to be opened.
Then he had met Natalie. She had been the complete opposite to Cassie — angelically blonde and dainty, with lovely blue eyes and the sweetest smile, and a quiet, gentle nature. Who wouldn’t love her? And he had, truly and sincerely, thanking whatever stars guided his fate that he had found her. Losing her had torn him apart.
And now . . . Could he risk his heart again? For himself, maybe. But for Robyn, a little girl who had lost her mother — no. And she had to be his priority. Nothing else mattered.
A soft sound — the bedroom door opening. He turned his head. Cassie was standing in the doorway, wrapped in the hotel’s bathrobe, her hands deep in the pockets. She didn’t speak.
He wanted to tell her that he loved her. But how could he say that when there was no future in it? He felt as if his tongue had turned into a lump of cold concrete, refusing to form any words.
For a long moment she just stared at him, no expression in her eyes. Then she slowly nodded her head and turned and walked back into the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a firm click.
He dragged in the breath he had forgotten to take. That was it. His bridges were burning. There was nothing left for him to do. Shaking his head, he moved swiftly across the room and out of the door.
The hotel was silent. No one was awake yet, not even the domestic staff. He crossed reception in a few strides, picked up his jacket from where he had left it in the ballroom, and hurried out into the cool morning air.
Chapter Sixteen
It was a little over half-an-hour’s drive to the pretty village on the edge of Dartmoor where Natalie’s parents lived. Liam had slid an audio CD of one of Robyn’s favourite stories into the CD player to keep her entertained as they drove along the narrow country roads with their high Devonian hedges.
The Brayley’s home was a pretty whitewashed cottage surrounded by a low stone wall. The lush garden was full of buddleia and roses and hollyhocks and chrysanthemums, with spikes of delicate pink veronica and bright cosmos.
Liam pulled onto a patch of rough ground on the opposite side of the lane. “Here we are!” he announced brightly. He could do this. Those lingering memories of last night were safely tucked away in the back of his brain.
He unfastened the seatbelt on Robyn’s child seat, and took her hand as she scrambled out of the car. She skipped along beside him as they crossed the road and opened the garden gate.
“Granma!” She broke from him as the front door opened, and raced up the path to be caught in a smothering embrace.
