Midsummer Man

by Zelah Roberts

  And those struggles had made her realise how much her past was still influencing her present. As much as she hated the thought of excavating memories she usually tried to keep buried, she knew she was going to have to deal with them or risk being haunted by them for the rest of her life.

  So, she vowed that when all this was over and she was back home, she was going to see a counsellor. For better or worse, she needed to try to overcome her past.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been drifting when she heard a quiet chuckle. She opened her eyes to find Mac standing over her. Dressed in jeans, a casual shirt and walking boots, with a rucksack slung over one shoulder, he looked rugged and handsome. Her heart sank even as her body quickened.

  He sat down beside her, resting his broad shoulders against the warm rock with a murmur of appreciation. “Nice spot you’ve found here,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been looking for you. I was hoping to wave Leonie and James off, but I got a phone call at just the wrong minute. As soon as I finished, I ran down to see if I could catch you, but you’d already gone.”

  “Ah. Sorry.”

  He wriggled, making himself comfortable and closed his eyes. How could he be so relaxed when he made her feel so edgy?

  “You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?” His tone was easy, casual, but Holly wasn’t deceived. She tensed.

  “I—” Her first instinct was to deny it, but she caught herself. Why should she? It was true. “Yes,” she said, simply.

  A laugh rumbled out of him. “That’s my Holly. Honest. Anyone else would have lied.”

  “Well, I can if you want.”

  “No.” He opened his eyes, amused. “So, why the disappearing act? I’ve been wanting to talk to you since we spoke that first night.”

  She looked out over the sea, watched as the breakers crashed against the distant rocks. It struck her that the sea, like time, like life, always caused change—the constant pounding imperceptibly but relentlessly shaping and reshaping the land. The land resisted but in the end was forced to change, just as she had been.

  She had altered a lot since she’d come here, she realised now. Gradually, she had become more vulnerable to the ebb and flow of emotions around her. She had grown to care about Leonie and Mac and what they thought. Inevitably, that had changed her. It had made her softer, more exposed…

  And that was frightening. What was she becoming? Was she becoming weak like her mother?

  Suddenly, she understood that she had not been avoiding Mac because she was afraid of the temptation he represented—though that was true, as far as it went. She had been avoiding him because she was upset that she had caused him pain.

  And the fact that it had hurt her so much was frightening and meant that she was already too vulnerable to him. She swallowed hard then said quietly, “I…felt bad.”

  He jerked back. She could see the confusion in his eyes. “About what?”

  “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I hurt you.”

  His eyes widened. “I thought you were avoiding me because you hated my guts for being so overbearing!”

  “What? No! I…don’t like it when you’re like that, but I know your intentions are good. It’s only because you care.” She watched a wave break against the shore. Mac looked thoughtful.

  “Holly, speaking out is a good thing,” he said, finally. “I want you to be able to tell me the truth, honestly. I don’t ever want you to hold back for fear of hurting my feelings.”

  Holly glanced at him. “Really?”

  “Really,” he said firmly. “Didn’t you learn to speak up when you were a child?”

  “Ah, no. I came from a ‘children should be seen and not heard’ situation.”

  Mac frowned. “Well, you’re not a child now and I want my brave, fierce Holly back. You can say what you like to me, as bluntly as you want, and as long as you’re being honest with me, I can take it. I’m a grown man, you know.”

  She laughed dryly. “Yes, I do know.”

  The innuendo was unintended, but it was there, nonetheless. For a moment, memories swirled. Then Mac looked down at his hands and said, “And I wanted to tell you I was sorry for being such a jerk. I had no right to push you like that, and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

  Speechless, Holly stared at him. He had listened to what she’d said and had changed his ways because of it. He wasn’t power-crazed and domineering like Anton, nor was he angry at her for speaking her mind. He was reasonable.

  Rich and powerful as he was, he wasn’t like Anton.

  She swallowed hard. This whole situation was just impossible. The more she learned about him, the more she liked him. The last two weeks had been torture. She’d felt the pull of his attraction and the powerful need of her own body constantly. She wanted him so much. She’d tried to keep away from him, every moment spent with him a fraught challenge to hide her feelings.

  But inevitably, she’d been obliged to spend some time with him. Mealtimes and trips out had been a torment as she tried to conceal her longing from those around her. She had become increasingly alarmed at the inexorable deepening of her emotions. And seeing how he treated others—and her—with respect, good humour and thoughtful consideration, just intensified her overwhelming emotional connection to him.

  It was impossible, with the evidence in front of her eyes, not to acknowledge that he was a good man, one who loved his family and those close to him deeply, who would do anything for them, go to any lengths to protect them and ensure they were safe and happy. And if she wished she was one of that charmed circle, enfolded in his love, then she was not going to admit it—to herself or anyone else.

  And the nights… Oh, the nights. Not a night went by without her twisting and turning through the long hours of darkness, her body pulsing and aching for fulfilment, unable to prevent the torrent of memories of their agonisingly brief time together.

  She took a steadying breath, regretting it when she caught his scent on the wind. Instantly, she was lying next to him in bed, her head resting on his shoulder, breathing in the warm aroma of his skin, replete after…

  With a jolt she realised he was speaking to her, and she had no clue what he’d said. “I… Sorry, I—”

  Mac gave her a teasing look. “I said, am I forgiven?”

  “Oh! Yes. Of course. If I am, that is…”

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said. “You were speaking your mind, and I thank you for it. Hard though it is to believe”—he smiled crookedly—“I do sometimes need someone to point out where I’m going wrong.”

  “Ah, well,” she said without thinking, “I’m your woman, then.”

  “I wish you were.”

  There was a long, tense silence. Then Holly said diffidently, “It’s okay. I understand why…why you don’t really want to get involved.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You do?”

  She nodded. “Leonie told me…about Emily.”

  There was no mistaking the astonishment in his eyes. “She did? I’m surprised she remembers much about it. She was only thirteen.”

  Holly nodded. “She seems to recall it clearly. I think she blames herself for you losing the love of your life.”

  “What?”

  “She said Emily left you because you were saddled with a little sister to look after.”

  Mac stared, then shook his head ruefully. “I’ve been such an idiot,” he said. “I should have talked to her about Emily long before this. Emily didn’t leave me because of Leonie.”

  “She…didn’t?”

  “Nope.” He sighed. He really didn’t want to think of Emily, but it looked as if he was going to have to. “Emily left because she was pregnant.”

  “What?”

  He sighed. “She told me she was pregnant about a month before my parents died. I was surprised. We’d been taking precautions, but I know that sometimes things go amiss. Anyway, I had a good job working for my father’s firm, so I thought we’
d be all right. And I was so excited at the idea of being a father.” He laughed softly. “I was only nineteen myself, just a kid still, really. Anyway, we decided not to tell anyone until the first trimester was over. She was superstitious about that kind of thing.”

  Holly nodded. She knew lots of people waited until the first three months were up before telling people.

  He took a deep breath and looked down at the heather at his feet. “Just before we were going to tell them, my parents were killed. A drunk driver.” He ran a rough hand through his hair. “It was touch and go whether the business would survive without my father at the helm. For a while, it looked like the money would run out and we would have to declare bankruptcy.”

  He looked up, staring out over the sea. “That was when she told me. The baby wasn’t mine. Whilst I’d looked like the better bet financially, she’d been going to stay with me. When she thought I was going to lose everything, she went to live with the father of her baby.”

  Holly felt her mouth drop open. “That’s awful. Mac, I’m so sorry.”

  “No. Don’t be. She’s happy with the man she went to, and I still see their little boy occasionally on St. Mary’s. And whilst a part of me still mourns the child I thought I was going to have, another part of me knows that I had a lucky escape. I could have married her never knowing that she’d cheated or that the child I was raising wasn’t mine.” He sighed. “I’ll admit I was devastated when I found out. It left me with a real mistrust of women. After that, I swore never to get closely involved with anyone again.”

  “So…you’re not still in love with her?”

  “Hell, no!” He slanted her a wry grin. “And I think my mistrust of women has abated a little, since I met you. You’re the real deal.”

  She stared at him, suddenly feeling a confusing mixture of anxiety and excitement. Was he trying to say he wanted her as a partner? Did he want a relationship? Things might have changed from his perspective, but they hadn’t from hers. She couldn’t get involved with him. She couldn’t. True, she had realised that he wasn’t as controlling and overbearing as Anton, but he was still a man of huge power and influence.

  But he would never use that power against me.

  The thought came to her suddenly but with absolute certainty. She had seen how he had acted these last few weeks, how he’d dealt with other people, how he’d coped with being challenged. He might not like it when people disagreed with him, but he listened and took criticism on board.

  She thought about how he’d been on their first night together. ‘You’ll not come to any harm with me.’

  She hadn’t fully believed him then. She did now.

  So what was standing in her way?

  Her past. Her past was standing in the way. There was no way she would ever tell Mac about it. It was too horrible.

  Nor could she lie about it. What kind of real relationship could she build without honesty? It would be impossible to move forward whilst hiding so much of her history. Inevitably, he would ask questions, and inevitably, her refusal to answer would drive a barrier between them.

  But then, he hadn’t asked her to have a full relationship with him, had he? What had he said? ‘There’s nothing stopping us from getting together.’ Perhaps, she thought with dawning optimism, he just meant sexually.

  Could she handle them having a purely physical relationship? Not one night of pleasure but many, without getting more deeply drawn in emotionally?

  Her instincts warned her that she couldn’t. She was already in too deep. But her body and her desire and her emotions said yes. They wanted her to grasp at the opportunity for one more time with him—or as many times as she could get. He was special, precious, wonderful and if she could only have him for a short time, then she should.

  She would regret it forever if she didn’t. But she might be devastated by his loss for the rest of her life if she did.

  A random line from Andrew Marvell popped into her thoughts and she wondered absently if Mac knew it.

  Tear our pleasures with rough strife through the iron gates of life…

  The poet had declared it thus, and he was right. Time was short and no one was promised another day. It was the wisdom of ages to grab pleasure when the opportunity arose. Who was she to argue with such a sentiment?

  She had no illusions. Her mind was throwing up such quotes to justify what she wanted to do, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

  The iron gates would close soon enough on their relationship. She should take what was offered and tear the pleasure from it.

  She swallowed. Still unsure what he wanted from her, she said cautiously, “Mac, I… I can’t promise anything.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not asking you to.”

  “I don’t… I don’t want to get in too deep.”

  She wouldn’t allow herself to give in to love. She wouldn’t. Emotional distance… That was the key.

  His expression was opaque, unreadable. His grasp on her hands tightened. “I’ve told you before that we go exactly as far as you want and no further. It’ll be all right, Holly.”

  She looked into his eyes then, his piercing blue eyes, and felt the heat in his gaze fizz through her like champagne. A wild, riotous, giddy froth of sudden happiness surged through her. “All right, then,” she said, throwing caution to the wind. For once in her life, she was going to take her pleasure and to hell with the consequences. “For better or worse… Let’s do it!”

  .

  Chapter Eight

  Do what? he thought, darkly.

  He had no illusions that right now she was talking about making love. She was promising nothing more than physical intimacy. He had seen her hesitation, her fear of more in her expressive face. But what was holding her back?

  Her ex had been cruel. That much was clear. But she must know that he wasn’t like that. Their night together must have proved it, and surely their time together since then must have shown her that he was no threat. And she was attracted to him. He had seen the emotion in her eyes more than once. She wanted him. Sometimes, when she didn’t realise he was watching her, he even thought he could see love mingled with that wanting. But that could be wishful thinking on his part.

  His heart twisted. He hoped he wasn’t imagining it. If she did feel love for him but was just afraid for some reason, then he needed to find out what the problem was and overcome it. His life, his future… Everything depended on it. He wanted so much more than just her body. He wanted everything—a relationship, love…marriage?

  Marriage. The very word jolted him.

  Since Emily, he’d always shied away from the thought, the idea. But now it wrapped around him like a soft, warm blanket. Marriage with Holly… It felt perfectly right. They belonged together. He had no doubt, none at all, that she was the only woman he would ever want as his wife.

  His love for her shone clearly inside him, diamond-bright. He could feel its power, its beauty. There were no shadows, no doubts. He knew absolutely that she was the one.

  If she would have him.

  It scared him that she was pulling the other way. ‘I don’t want to get in too deep,’ she’d said, when he wanted the opposite. He dreaded to think how he would feel if he couldn’t change her mind.

  But he had to think positively. There was hope. At least she’d agreed to engage with him on some level. It was up to him now to capitalise on that. He would start where she wanted to—with a physical connection. Goodness knew he wanted that, too. But he would build on it, try to strengthen the bonds of feeling between them.

  Moving away a strand of hair that swept across her face in the light breeze, he asked, “Here? Now?”

  A gasp, a startled laugh. He’d shocked her.

  “Too public?”

  She assessed their surroundings. Behind them, they were shielded by the huge granite rocks and in front of them nothing but sand and sea.

  He nodded out at the ocean. “There’s nothing out there for five thousand miles until you hit South A
merica.”

  “Hmm. A bit close, then.” Her lips twitched and he laughed.

  “If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll go home. It’s okay.”

  “Oh, no. Here’s good.” He watched a blush blossom on her cheeks and hid a smile. For all her confidence, she could sometimes be a little shy.

  He remembered with pleasure that she’d once said she’d like to make love on a beach. She’d said she’d like to try it in the sea as well, but the ocean here was too cold for that. Maybe he’d persuade her to go with him to somewhere where the water was warm. Fiji… Or there was a gorgeous island just off Bali that she would really love, where they could fulfil that particular dream. It would be a great place for a honeymoon.

  His body throbbed at the thought of it, and he turned hastily away from her observant gaze to rummage in his bag for a picnic blanket.

  Her eyebrows arched. "You came prepared?”

  “Only for a picnic. I persuaded Flora to pack lunch. There’s more stuff in this rucksack than in Hermione’s handbag.”

  “’Hermione’s handbag?’ You’re a Potter fan?”

  He laughed. “Of course. I watched them all with Leonie as she was growing up. How about you?”

  “I read them as an adult.”

  He spread the blanket on the sand. “You haven’t seen the films?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm.” He lay down and held his arm out to her. “Well, maybe we should create some magic of our own.”

  “Okay… You want to warm up your wand?” she asked insouciantly.

  Damn, she was wicked. Wicked and wonderful. And if she knew how hot his wand really was, she wouldn’t be so blasé about it. Laughing out loud, he replied, “Not to be too presumptuous, but I was rather hoping you would do that.”

  Chuckling, she settled down beside him, resting her head on his arm. She was a little awkward, a little tense, as she snuggled into his side. But he couldn’t help but sigh with contentment. She felt just right tucked in beside him. She belonged there.

  They lay like that for a while, enjoying being together, watching the soft clouds drift overhead. He desperately wanted to grab her, to take her with all the fierce, savage passion that flamed in him, to pour out his love and frustration in one wild, explosive act of lovemaking. He wanted to, but he wasn’t going to do that.