Page 31 of Twin Flames
George nodded and ran his hand through his hair. He was quiet whilst she pottered about making tea. She brought the teapot to the wooden table, sat down and poured them both a cup. She pushed a cup towards him and waited to see if he noticed anything strange about this simple interaction.
‘Thank you. This is perfect.’ He raised his eyebrow before looking at her curiously. ‘How did you know how I like my tea?’
‘I guessed,’ she said, smiling as she sipped hers. She had remembered how he liked his tea. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. She followed an inner prompting and it had guided her correctly. He liked black tea with just a quick dip of the teabag.
‘Why do I feel like there’s an inside joke I’m missing?’
Cara smiled a sweet smile and said, ‘I can’t imagine.’
There was another silence, and George cleared his throat. ‘I’m glad I came. I didn’t know what to do. It’s not that I didn’t want to call. I wanted to see you. I’ve thought about little else, but, it’s difficult.’
‘I was upset you weren’t in touch, but I realised it must be hard for you.’
‘You said you’d ended it with Daniel. How did he take it?’
‘Not well. He was shocked and angry. No worse than you’d expect I suppose, given the way I sprung it on him, but it was horrible. I couldn’t keep up the pretence after. . .’ Cara’s words froze in her throat.
‘After?’
She took a deep breath. ‘After you and I were together. Pretending to be invested in the relationship when I’m thinking about you wouldn’t work for me. It felt wrong to lie.’
Cara looked away. If he was going to reject her, then let him get on with it.
‘Sometimes, I wish I could follow my heart more, instead of trying to please others.’
‘As in Joanna, you mean?’ She tilted her head to one side as she looked at him. There was no point holding back. They were either on or off. He either wanted her or he didn’t.
George reached across and covered her hand with his. He raised it to his lips and planted a row of kisses across her knuckles. Her hand tingled. Her whole body tingled. His hands were beautiful. She remembered how they touched her body in the villa in Seville.
Why do I feel safe with him when nothing about this situation is safe?
‘I can’t stay long, but I wanted to see your face. I’d better get back to work soon as there’s so much going on.’ He withdrew his hand and sipped his tea.
‘You’ve only just arrived. Can’t you stay a bit longer?’
‘Okay then, yes, a little while. Actually, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me at all.’ His dark eyes met hers again. ‘I sat outside in the car for ages trying to decide whether to come in.’
‘How could you possibly think I wouldn’t want to see you after Seville?’
Their eyes locked in a silent loving exchange. There was no need for words.
Cara rose from her chair, heart pounding, and moved towards him. She was embarrassed by the depth of her longing, but she didn’t want to let the moment pass without showing him how she felt. Better to risk looking like a fool than to feel foolish later. He withdrew his legs from beneath the table as she moved towards him. She ran her hand through his hair, touched his cheekbone with her fingers and then traced his lips.
Anyone might wonder what she found so mesmerising about them; they were, after all, just shapely lips. But as anyone who’s been in love knows, other people’s preferences have little to do with attraction.
The familiar fire ignited between them. He pulled her down onto his knees, and she sat facing him as he held her. Their lips touched and the spark flared with the ferocity of a new flame. They needed no warm-up.
‘I’ve missed you terribly,’ he said, before devouring her lips with hungry kisses.
‘You said you haven’t got long so we’d better make the most it,’ she said, a coy expression on her face.
They both knew the inevitable was about to happen. Cara unbuttoned his shirt and rubbed her fingers across his lightly muscled chest, revelling in the pure delight of touching him. Her desire for him made it simple to please him. No effort was required. It was just right. She wanted him, and he wanted her. It was a basic, primal instinct, and both of them responded to it. There was no hesitation on either side.
He never wanted to be parted from her again. They weren’t naked yet, but they smouldered with a burning heat. He unbuttoned her flimsy silk shirt and let out a low whistle. He unhooked the lacy bra without ceremony and flung it across the chair.
‘Take me now; don’t wait any longer,’ she whispered.
He made love to her in a way neither of them had ever experienced. It was fierce yet tender; waves of passion overtook them, and they came undone. For a few moments, George forgot he was in a Tudor style kitchen on the outskirts of York, madly in love with a woman he’d only known for a few weeks.
