by Kim Lawrence
Then he kissed the swan curve of her neck and Chloe’s head fell back in rapture, her eyes squeezed closed on a long sigh that became a groan as his hand claimed first one quivering breast and then the other, stroking then kneading... Her head fell back further to allow him greater access, her spine arching back, supported by the iron strength of the arm across her ribs.
Her passion-glazed blue eyes flickered open as he scooped her up as though she weighed nothing and walked towards the bed.
She stroked his face, touching his mouth, his fascinating, pleasure-giving mouth, thinking that she honestly wouldn’t have cared if he had laid her down on the floor and taken her there and then... The thought was both shocking and incredibly exciting to her.
As he strode towards the bed, although she wasn’t small or delicate he made her feel both, yet at the same time powerful and strong.
He laid her down on the tumbled sheets and stood there looking down at her, nostrils flared, breathing hard, each breath lifting his ribcage.
His body was hard and tanned, warm, bone, sinew and muscle all so perfect that the desire low in her belly clutched hard as she stared at him, unable to look away.
‘You’re beautiful,’ she whispered. ‘Perfect.’ Her eyes suddenly filled with tears as she choked out, ‘I wish I still was for you too—’
The rush of emotion he felt when he interpreted the expression in her eyes was shocking in its intensity.
She was grieving.
His expression was both stern and tender as he came down beside her, lowering his long body so that they lay thigh to thigh.
‘Listen to me. You are beautiful.’
She gave a teary smile, loving him so much it hurt. ‘Inside, maybe.’
‘Everywhere,’ he contradicted. ‘Inside and out. And I want to love every part of you. You have lost something, I know, but let me give you something to fill the space...’ He took her hand and laid it on his chest where she could feel the heavy thud of his heartbeat, strong and steady. She could feel it vibrating through her own body; it was as if they were one...but she craved an even more intimate joining.
‘I want you,’ she said simply.
His eyes darkened in response to the husky plea. ‘Then, agape mou, you shall have me.’
Arms braced above her head either side, he leaned down and kissed her, and she sighed into his mouth, eager for his taste, wanting to fill her senses with it. The heat was searing and she whimpered as she was swept away on a tidal wave of primitive need.
The erotic exploration of tongue against tongue continued as he lowered his body beside her and turned her onto her side to face him. He lifted his mouth from hers, but only to kiss his way down her neck and then over the quivering mounds of her breasts.
A keening cry escaped her lips at the first brush of his tongue over first one nipple and then the other, then when he took one into his mouth and sucked on it sensuously she gasped.
Her damp nipples continued to ache from his ministrations as he slid lower, his tongue leaving a wet trail over the slight mound of her belly while his fingers moved into the soft curls at the apex of her legs, stroking the damp folds gently and then parting them until he found the tight nub nestling inside.
She was so focused on the new, agonisingly blissful sensations he was creating that she didn’t realise at first where he was kissing.
She stiffened, rejection making her eyes fly wide open, hating that he was touching the ugly scarred tissue on her thigh, imagining the disgust he had to be feeling. She didn’t want him to have to pretend to be enjoying it. ‘No!’
‘Yes!’ he insisted.
For the space of a heartbeat their eyes connected, and she was the first to look away.
Quivering but quiescent now, she lay there as he gently kissed the damaged skin, her face wet with silent tears that slid unnoticed down her face.
‘You can’t want to do that.’
Her broken whisper felt like a tight fist around his heart. In response, he loosed a low growl and dragged himself up her body until they were face to face. Holding her gaze, he took her hand and curled her fingers around the hard, silky shaft of his erection. His whole body was trembling with need as she stroked him, breathing in the male musk of his warm body.
She looked into his eyes and the desire blazing there burnt away her last doubts and inhibitions; she suddenly felt free.
Kissing her passionately once again, Nik pulled her on top of him and held her there, his hands curved over her bottom, continuing to kiss her into mindless submission until he finally rolled them both over, reversing their position.
Lying beneath him, Chloe gave herself over to the sensations bombarding her. She surrendered to the feelings, as she surrendered to him.
Then he parted her legs and she held her breath and released it in a low, slow sigh when he finally slid into her. She grabbed his hips, her back arching to deepen the pressure, wanting more.
With a groan he obeyed, giving her everything he’d got.
‘Put your legs around me, Chloe.’
She did and he sank deeper into her, each strong movement of him inside her sending her deeper into herself, into him. It became one and the same, and they were both at the core of a firestorm, and when it broke the effect on every nerve cell in her body was electric!
She turned her head on the pillow, where beside her Nik lay gasping for air, his chest heaving and the sweat on his skin cooling.
She began to worry that he was cooling towards her because he suddenly seemed so far apart from her, but before the fear could take root he reached out and dragged her against him, as close as possible.
‘What are you doing all the way over there?’ he asked, propping his chin on the top of her hair-rumpled head as he pulled up a sheet to cover them both.
‘Does it still hurt?’ he asked quietly when they were both lying still.
She sat up then, dragging the sheet up to her chin, and looked down at him. ‘My leg?’
He nodded.
‘Only when I laugh... No, seriously, not really, it’s kind of numb because the nerve endings were pretty damaged.’
He was pretty sure that her matter-of-fact delivery covered a world of hurt and pain.
‘The skin can get tight sometimes.’ She reached out and took a bottle from the bedside table. ‘If it does, I usually massage this stuff into it.’
‘Were you in hospital for a long time?’ The image of her lying alone in a hospital bed enduring such pain produced a fresh surge of protectiveness in him.
‘Longer than expected, because the grafts didn’t take. There was an infection so they had to start all over again. That’s why I’m not going back.’
He stiffened. ‘They want you to?’
She nodded. ‘They have offered me another op, but that’s what they said last time...’
‘Shouldn’t you listen to expert advice?’
‘The surgeon says he might be able to improve the appearance, but there are no guarantees, and I’ve had enough of being poked and prodded.’
The way she said it, the defiance in her tone, made his throat ache with emotion, and his arms tightened around her narrow ribs as he rocked her against him.
‘But wouldn’t it be worth it if they could improve it?’ he said against her neck.
She pulled away, her expression wary. ‘I still wouldn’t be perfect, and it’s not about other people, it’s about me. I have to be able to look in the mirror and know I’m still me...’ she pressed a hand to her breasts ‘...inside.’
He watched the tears slide down her cheeks and felt as if someone had reached a hand into his chest and pulled out his heart. ‘Don’t cry, agape mou.’ He smoothed down her hair with a hand and pulled her back into his arms.
* * *
Nik felt regret when he saw the warm rays of sunlight filtering through the blinds, certain to wake Chloe up. The irony of his dismay was not lost on Nik, as for a long time he hadn’t been able to wait until he could get out of bed.
>
But morning was already well established now, which meant that he’d have to let her go and lose the incredible sense of peace and rightness he’d felt holding her, a peace that had been better than the sleep his body craved, sleep that he had denied himself out of fear that in the grip of a nightmare he might hurt her. It was a fear with foundation, as there were reported incidents of men suffering from PTSD acting out their nightmares and injuring their partners in their sleep.
If he hurt Chloe, even unconsciously, he knew it would kill him.
The time had come to get up, but on the plus side the bright sunlight made it possible for him to study the face on the pillow beside him. Half obscured by the tangle of silky blonde hair, she lay with one arm across his chest and the other tucked under her head like a pillow. He could make out the fact that her eyelashes fanned out lush and curving against her smooth cheek.
If anyone had told him before yesterday that he would say a woman’s name just because he wanted, no, needed to hear it he would have laughed them out of the building and yet...
‘Chloe.’
It was barely a whisper but she must have sensed it because she stirred, whimpering a little and shifting restlessly, then, eyes still closed, she shouted, ‘No!’ She opened her eyes suddenly, and blinked as the haziness vanished. ‘I was dreaming...’ she whispered sleepily.
‘It sounded like a nightmare.’
‘I forgot about my leg and had put on shorts, which is silly because I never forget...’ she murmured sleepily. ‘People were laughing and pointing at my scars...’
Nik flinched inside. ‘I won’t let anyone laugh,’ he promised fiercely.
Chloe smiled happily as he turned onto his side and pulled her to him, running a hand in long soothing strokes down her back again and again until her breathing evened out once more.
It was a long time since he had spent more than an hour or so in bed with a woman, partly because he didn’t want anyone to witness his nightmares. It was ironic, really, that the nightmares this time had been Chloe’s.
You don’t have exclusive rights on nightmares, Nik.
The memory of her pathetic whimpers cut right to his heart, and he kissed her forehead gently, pleased that her breathing was now soft and easy.
She bore her scars so bravely but how many times had she lifted her chin and pretended not to care...as she had with him earlier this morning? Carefully he leaned across her and pressed the phone that lay on the bedside table, so that the time appeared; it was already nearly ten a.m.
His throat was dry and the glass of water remained out of reach.
He moved, sliding a hand from under her, careful not to disturb her, and levered himself from the bed. Walking through to the kitchen, he closed the door to muffle the sound and turned on the tap. He downed the glass of water greedily.
Then he retraced his steps, making a detour to retrieve his own phone, which was in his jacket pocket, before he stood there gazing at the sleeping figure. While he respected her decision not to have further surgery he wondered if there wasn’t another way to help her...a way that would leave her free of nightmares about people pointing at her.
A sense of deep grinding impotence rose up inside him. There had to be a way to protect her from all the cruelty out there, the people prepared to gossip and mock.
* * *
Chloe woke up and wondered why she felt so good, then she remembered and she felt even better. Eyes still closed, she patted the bed beside her, realising that the sheets were almost as cold as the sudden tightness behind her breastbone. Nik had left her again.
No, Chloe, this is how paranoia starts.
‘Good morning.’ Nik must have been back to his own room, as he was now wearing an unbuttoned shirt—a very good look on him—and cream linen shorts... Well, you couldn’t have everything, she thought naughtily, knowing she preferred him naked. He was carrying a tray that held a cafetière of coffee, buttered toast and some fresh fruit.
‘Hello.’ She hid the sudden surge of paralysing shyness by grabbing for a piece of toast.
‘Hello to you too. Black or white?’ Nik asked, nudging the bedside lamp out of the way to balance the tray on the little side table. He sat down on the bed beside her and scanned her face.
She pushed a hank of hair from her eyes. ‘Black and thank you, for earlier on.’
‘I’d say it was a pleasure, but I hope that was perfectly obvious.’
She blushed, taking a sip of strong, fragrant coffee, and peeped at him over the rim. ‘For me too.’
‘I’ve been doing a bit of research online.’ He was buzzing with the information he’d discovered and couldn’t wait to share it with her.
She took another sip of coffee and thought ruefully that he had more energy than she did, as she felt tired in places she hadn’t even known existed!
‘I don’t know who your consultant is but there is a team of medics in New York who are working on some new plastic surgery techniques. They’re still at the trial stages but the results are nothing short of miraculous.’
She listened to him in silence but he had lost her after your consultant.
‘I’m not interested.’
The coldness in her flat voice acted like cold water on his enthusiasm. He regarded her in frustration but when he spoke to her his tone was all gentle patience. ‘I don’t think you understand.’
She put down her cup and tightened her grip on the sheet she had gathered across her breasts. ‘No, it’s you who doesn’t understand, Nik. It’s you who hasn’t been listening.’ Or at least understanding. She felt a fool now for believing that he had. ‘You really think there is anything you can tell me about possible treatments? Do you think I haven’t looked into absolutely everything available?’ She pushed her bare leg out from under the covers, shocking a small grimace from him. ‘I’ve been living with this for a long time.’
He shook his head. ‘I realise that—’
‘Do you think I came to this decision lightly?’ she asked him, her anger growing steadily. ‘Do you think I didn’t agonise over it? I came to a decision that is right for me and I need you to respect it.’
‘Obviously, this is an emotional subject,’ he began, ‘but—’
Her lips tightened. ‘Don’t patronise me and don’t try and change me. You need to accept me as I am, or walk away.’
He held his hands out flat in a pacifying gesture; this conversation was not going at all the way he had anticipated! ‘There is no need to overreact.’
She arched a brow. ‘No? Well, how would you feel if I brought you a cup of tea and told you all about the PTSD that you are suffering from?’ She saw his flinch and ignored it. ‘That I suddenly became an expert on your problem.’ Her mouth tightened as her resentment rose.
‘We are not talking about me.’
‘Yeah, because unlike you I’m not in denial about my problem...and it isn’t a problem for me. The only problem is the attitude of people like you!’
While she had been speaking the colour had gradually leaked from his face and by the time she’d finished his warm skin tone was ivory.
‘I’m trying to help you!’ he ground out, getting to his feet.
‘How about helping yourself first? I don’t need fixing. You’re the one who won’t even admit he has a problem!’ she flung back, wanting to hurt him as much as he had her. A strange sense of calm settled over her as she looked up at him...this damaged, beautiful man she had grown to love in such a short space of time. This thing between them, whatever it was, had been doomed from the outset. It had never been going to work; she had only been fooling herself.
Why drag it out? she asked herself sadly.
‘Until you sort yourself out... I don’t want anything to do with you!’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHE’D KNOWN THE event was being filmed live but Chloe hadn’t expected the cameras to be outside as well.
She could hear the young woman speaking into the mic as she stepped out of the car that bor
e the royal crest of Vela. She squared her shoulders. If her sister, who absolutely hated being the centre of attention, could do this then so could she...all she had to do was channel her inner show-off.
‘And this...yes, that is Lady Chloe Summerville, who is standing in for her sister, the future Queen of Vela. We understand,’ the reporter continued with a coy smile for the camera, ‘that the princess was unable to attend tonight, and, though there has been no official confirmation, I’m sure you recall how the Princess suffered terrible morning sickness during her first pregnancy...?
‘Lady Chloe is wearing...’ she consulted a sheet of paper she was holding ‘...yes, I believe she is wearing a creation by Tatiana... Lady Chloe, hello.’
Chloe paused in front of the mic that had been pushed into her face, and smiled. ‘Hello.’ The personal touch would have been nice but she didn’t have a clue who the other woman was.
‘That is a beautiful cape,’ the reporter said, gazing at the floor-length velvet fur-trimmed cape Chloe wore. ‘Real fur?’
‘No, it’s not real.’
‘You are presenting one of the awards tonight, I believe, to the little girl who, I’m sure our viewers will remember, ran back into a burning house to save her baby sister and was injured herself. Humbling...so humbling...’
‘To Kate, yes, I got lucky being able to present that particular award.’
‘Standing in for your lovely sister? And how is the princess?’
Sabrina was where she spent most evenings at the moment, hanging over a toilet bowl...still asking anyone who’d listen why they called it morning sickness.
‘She is really sorry she couldn’t be here as it’s a cause very close to her heart. Heroes so often go unsung and it’s good to redress the balance just a little.’
‘So why was she—?’ The fortuitous arrival of the cast of a famous reality TV programme saved Chloe from fielding any more questions, and as the camera moved to the new arrivals she made her way quickly up the steps and into the theatre’s foyer, which was filled with small gaggles of well-dressed people chatting. Tatiana immediately peeled off from one of the nearer groups and came across to where Chloe stood.