by Margaret Way
The hard muscle beneath his shirt. The contours of his shoulders. The breadth of his back and the male slimness of his waist. Callie closed her eyes and let her hands relearn those parts of him. Let her hands have something they had wanted for years.
She had cared for Gideon, wanted him and, yes, needed him, even. And now she made herself admit that not all of those feelings had gone away. She had thought she’d completely let go of them, of him, but her need for his touch, his arms around her, told her she hadn’t.
Oh, God. Had she merely locked him away inside herself and not dealt with it at all?
But she didn’t love him. She’d only thought she did. At that age she couldn’t have known her heart anyway.
‘What are you thinking, Callie?’
He kissed the tip of her nose. She could have taken it as the kind of comfort a man would offer a child. But it wasn’t. The way his arms held her told her that. The deep cadence of his voice as he spoke her name told her that.
‘I guess it’s this.’ She searched his eyes in the moonlight and her hands came up to grip his forearms. His hands clasped her waist. ‘But I don’t know what to do about this.’
His fingers tightened for a moment against her waist. ‘I know what I want…’
She knew what she wanted, too. And that scared her—because she wanted him too much, and she wanted him with parts of her that had cared too much seven years ago.
‘I have to go in, Gideon. I can’t—I can’t do this with you. It’s not a good idea for either of us. It just…complicates things. You don’t want me this way—not really. And I don’t want the…the stress.’
How she managed to deny herself she didn’t know, but she got the words out and walked away without waiting for an answer. There was only one answer anyway, and Gideon gave it to her in his silence, in the way he remained right there on the beach as she walked away.
Callie tipped her face up and told herself this was brave of her, and smart and sensible and practical. He would go in the morning. She would stay here and get on with her work. All would be well.
It would.
Wouldn’t it?
CHAPTER SIX
ALL being well didn’t exactly happen.
At four a.m., the man who handled transport to and from the island had to start boating people away. Gideon called in his skipper as well, but it still took time to get everyone gone.
‘You’re fully confident it’s safe to make this final trip now?’ Callie posed the question to her regular boat skipper.
‘It’s safe, but I do want to get moving. I hope that third boat’s skipper knew what he was doing, heading to the other side of the island the way he did. I’ll radio in on him once I’m away. Don’t know what he was doing, anyway. There’s no one over that side. Illegal fishing, maybe? I’ll see if anyone knows…’ With this resolved in his mind, he went on with more urgent concerns. ‘This storm—’ Her skipper shook his head, glanced at the sky. ‘If anything, the weather warning has failed to register the depth of this one. It’s going to get the island square-on, and it’s going to hit soon.’
Callie swallowed hard—because she knew she could trust the skipper’s prediction. He’d spent enough time in this area to know what he was talking about.
‘Go safely.’
If illegal fishing was going on it would have to be reported, but now wasn’t the time for her to worry about that. Callie stepped back and the two men boarded their crafts. Finally everyone was gone. Everyone but her and Gideon.
He refused to leave.
‘If it’s safe for you to stay, to use the storm cellar until this is over, then it’s safe for me to stay with you. Either you come away with me or we both stay. I won’t leave you here alone.’
‘All right.’ She pushed her hand through her hair. There hadn’t even been time to draw it back in its usual ponytail after the couple of hours she’d slept before she’d got the emergency call to start evacuating the island. ‘But you should have gone with them, Gideon—though I do appreciate your company.’
‘Have you been through anything like this before?’ He ignored her comment and glanced at the roughening sky.
‘I haven’t, but I know what has to be done. Storm shutters have to be closed over all the guest house windows, and mattresses need to be put against those windows from the inside. And all the other usual things.’ There was so much else that needed doing. Cleaning out the gazebo, taking down the fairy lights…She didn’t know if there would be time to do any of those things.
‘Then let’s move. From what the authorities have said we have two hours, tops, before this thing hits. Less if your skipper’s predictions are accurate.’
His hair was uncombed, and he had beard shadow on his jaw and a determined gleam in his eyes, and Callie felt…
Safe. She felt safe in the face of the storm that was about to break over her little island, doing its best to wipe everything on it into the sea.
The guest house would stand. Well, she hoped and prayed it would. Mary had experienced two storms of this predicted severity in her time here, and both times the guest house had weathered the storm quite well.
But nothing like it had happened during Callie’s tenure as manager. And Mary had had to rebuild the gazebo once…
‘I’m glad Mary and Mac left before this came along. Knowing your aunt, she would have wanted to skip the honeymoon and stay.’
They took care of the guest house, but did only a little work in the gazebo because they didn’t get their two hours. In less than that time the wind was roaring.
They’d carried the last of the supplies into the underground storm cellar, and only just managed, between the two of them, to get the door closed and barred behind them.
Gideon leaned his weight against it while Callie slid the bolts home. She had to lean in close to him to do it. Close enough to feel his body warmth. Her gaze lifted to his, locked, and she became instantly aware of the intimacy of their situation.
Two people locked in a cosy storm shelter until further notice. ‘I’m…ah…I’m glad we got the breakables out of the gazebo.’
Callie stepped away from him, rubbed her hands down the sides of her jeans and tried not to think about the roaring of the wind outside or the roaring of her awareness of Gideon. Maybe fear of the elements was raising her consciousness of him.
She glanced at the overhead light in the cellar’s main room and wondered how long the electricity would hold up.
‘I wish we could have cleared the gazebo out completely.’
‘We did what we could in the time frame.’
God, his voice was so deep.
Callie drew a shaken breath and reached for one of the baskets of leftovers they’d brought with them. He wouldn’t see how her hand shook, would he?
Gideon lifted the other basket and carried it to the small kitchenette. His back muscles flexed through his cotton shirt as he moved.
Callie had pressed her hands to those muscles in the abandoned cottage during the rain. Had that only been two days ago?
He turned to face her. ‘Try not to worry about what will happen next. The storm is out of our control until it’s over now.’
Yes, it was—and Callie felt a little out of control, too. ‘I don’t think I like not being able to have my eye on what’s happening on the other side of that door.’ She might be safer on that side—away from the temptation within!
‘I feel the same, but we’ll be fine.’ He half reached for her hand before he turned away, opened the basket and began to draw items out of it. ‘Let’s get these things into the fridge.’
Wedding food. Rich, luscious desserts, delicious pastries, and several kinds of meat and vegetables in tangy sauces. A feast for the senses.
Not a good way to think of it, Callie, given your senses appear to be overloaded with Gideon-consciousness as it is.
Callie forced a smile. ‘At least we won’t starve.’
She glanced at their surroundings. Felt rattled by that ro
ar outside again. It was getting louder, rougher. Callie forced herself to think about their comfort down here. Bathroom and basic kitchen facilities, living area. All good.
‘There’s a bedroom with a bed in it,’ she blurted—and could have winced. She rushed on to explain. ‘It’s a king-sized bed, so that will be fine if we need to…to sleep. There’ll be tons of room.’
She was overstating the case, wasn’t she? She clamped her lips shut so nothing else would blurt out.
But Gideon didn’t laugh, or even smile at her verbal spill. Instead his gaze locked onto her, and his body stilled close to hers, and somehow she knew he was thinking of kissing her, of holding her.
‘Callandra—’
‘Movies.’ She rushed the word out with a hint of poorly disguised desperation. ‘We can watch movies for as long as the electricity holds out. There’s a TV and DVD-player, and I know Mary left some movies down here.’
They could watch movies, and that would stop her from thinking thoughts she should not think. Such as that she had never found a man to match up to Gideon…
One very short moment passed before he nodded. ‘Movies are a good idea.’
Yes. Good. They both agreed.
When she didn’t immediately move, he led the way to a cabinet in the corner and gestured to the selection of titles. ‘Pick whatever you want to see.’
Callie chose two she hadn’t watched before. One comedy, one drama. Those would be quite safe, wouldn’t they? They watched the drama first. Who knew it would be a sensual drama? That just made things even worse. It even made her stop noticing most of the storm noise outside. Well, other than the crashing and banging and smashing…
When the movie ended she bolted to her feet. Anything to get off the sofa and away from the temptation to lean into Gideon’s body, to snuggle up and enjoy all the warmth of him in all sorts of ways she shouldn’t be thinking about when there was a storm raging outside that might well be destroying her source of income.
‘I’ll make hot drinks. Would you like tea or coffee? There’ll be instant and teabags, at least.’
‘Tea is fine.’ He also stood, pushed his hands into his pockets. He had on a pair of tan trousers and a navy shirt loose over them. He scrubbed his hand over his jaw.
As he did so, something smashed against the outer door.
Callie squealed. Just slightly. Purely because that one had surprised her. ‘Ah—that’s really getting going now.’ She blew out a breath and told herself to get a grip.
‘It’s all right.’
He wrapped her in his arms. Just drew her in and cuddled her. And it should only have been for comfort, but the moment his arms closed around her their gazes met, and then it wasn’t only comfort being given and received.
His hands rubbed against her back, and his eyes warmed with delicious interest and an edge of the need that Callie felt inside herself.
She curled her hand around the back of his neck. Only that. It was all that was needed. He dipped his head, gave her what she had silently asked for: his mouth close to hers, then pressed to hers.
They kissed in counterpoint to the raging of the storm. Soft, soothing, slow kisses that eased one into the other in a lovely, mellow cadence.
The whistle of the kettle broke them apart, but Gideon’s arms remained loosely around her.
‘Leave it. Let it shut off.’
Oh, she wanted to do that—wanted the promise inherent in that suggestion.
‘We—ah—I’m not sure if we should skip having tea.’
Callie wasn’t sure if she was capable of making tea right now!
Gideon made it for them, and carried it back to the sofa for the second movie—but she couldn’t have said what it was about.
Her shoulder was pressed to his. When they’d finished their drinks he played with her fingers. It was almost unconscious, so how could she be so conscious of such a simple touch?
‘It’s not simple, though, is it?’
His words made her realise she’d spoken her thought aloud. And he turned her into his arms and kissed her again. And they watched and kissed and cuddled their way through every movie Mary had brought down until it was finally nightfall. By then Callie’s senses were so overwhelmed she didn’t know where she began and ended any more.
But she couldn’t regret what they’d done. She needed to give herself this time with Gideon.
‘I must be insane, but I just…just can’t stop touching you.’ Gideon’s eyes were ringed with the blurry edge of desire, and that was there for her, and it was beautiful. God, so beautiful.
Callie raised her mouth so he would kiss her again. It had to happen. It was that simple and that complicated.
The electricity cut out ten minutes after the final movie had ended. Callie only noticed because the blue screen on the TV ceased to cast its light over the planes of Gideon’s face, which was angled to hers as he kissed her.
She’d lit a candle late in the day, in anticipation of this happening, so they weren’t plunged into utter darkness.
‘You’re beautiful in this light.’ His words were gravel, and they shivered over her senses like a touch. ‘The candlelight makes your hair gleam.’
Her heart beat so fast and thunderously in her chest she wondered if he could see its movement.
Gideon. He’d filled a young girl’s world and her dreams, and now they were here, and Callie’s resistance was gone. Just gone.
He couldn’t fill her world now because that would mean she had a deep emotional attachment to him—and she wasn’t prepared to have that. It would be stupid to have that. But, oh, she needed him so, and she understood now that she had to give herself to him, have him give himself to her.
Once. So she could have her answers and lay this to rest. She needed to have him. And she needed to do that accepting that he was not a man who could or ever would love her deeply. Callie needed to take what she wanted with him this once, here and now. It would be her goodbye, of sorts, so she could move on, resolved, and be free, finally, of any lingering feelings for him.
The thought saddened her, but it was also as necessary as her next breath.
‘I should get the generator online.’ His hands caressed her shoulders. ‘I don’t want to leave you.’
‘We can do it together.’ Callie stood on legs that felt like rubber.
Somehow they took care of that, and then she was babbling again—on about the storm and the weather and what they might find tomorrow—until Gideon laid a finger over her lips, and then she knew that there would be no staving this off. She didn’t want to, anyway.
‘I thought I was doing the right thing for you, Callie. When I sent you to Mary.’
It was the last thing she had expected, and it came from him with both tenderness and a self-doubt she imagined must be rare as his hands shaped her shoulders and his gaze searched hers.
She drew a shaky breath. ‘I know, Gid. It was the best thing for me. I needed to grow up.’
‘And have you?’
Callie knew what his question meant, and the answer was inside her—fully formed and ready. ‘Yes. Yes, Gideon. I’ve grown up.’
Enough to take this night with him, this time out of time, and let it be all to her that it could be.
Tomorrow he would go. That, too, was understood. That was what she needed.
Gideon sighed into her hair, pressed a kiss against the crown of it. ‘I want to kiss you now, Callie. Kiss you and not only kiss you. I…I don’t want to stop.’
‘I want that, too.’ Oh, she did.
Callie met him halfway. Maybe a little more than halfway. And Gideon quickly took her past that point.
‘God, Callie. Nothing tastes the way you do.’ He sank his fingers into her hair and angled her head for better access, to deepen the kiss until their tongues tangled and every part of her was held flush against the strength of him.
The tips of his fingers brushed the nape of her neck, where the sensitive cords that felt filled with a thousand nerve
-endings were all attuned to him. Callie stroked her hands up over his chest and across his shoulders, and simply held onto all that strength and focus.
And inside herself she thought, This time we finish this.
She had Gideon in her arms, the way she had wanted for so long.
And of course she knew what she was doing.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘CALLIE. I need—’ Gideon didn’t know how to express what he needed.
To make love to her. To hold her. He needed Callie in ways he didn’t want to think about, because they came from a place inside him that he didn’t understand, didn’t trust. A place he hadn’t realised still had its grip on her somehow even when he hadn’t been with her.
A place that dictated things to him like, Look after Callie. Make sure Callie stays safe. Give her the chance to grow up, become who she needs to become.
And it also dictated, Don’t let yourself become too attached to her, because the potential is there for a great deal of hurt if you do that.
Hurt for her, because he didn’t know how to care the right way for a woman who needed more from him than desire and affection.
But…hurt for him? Had he been protecting himself by staying away from her?
What odd thought was that?
Callie made a soft, needy sound and stretched up to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Her fingers dug into his back and his arms came around her tightly. There were emotions inside him that he didn’t want to confront or think about, and he wasn’t sure he would understand if he did but the thoughts washed through him anyway.
She is mine.
I’m going to have her.
He’d come here to make sure her future was secure. If need be, he would have rescued her. Now he forced himself to admit he’d also come here to finally give himself sight of her again.
Seven years ago they’d been on the brink of this. The barriers had been her age, his commitment to Dianna, and Callie’s heart on her sleeve and his entrenched belief somewhere inside himself that he was unable to feel that way towards a woman.
But now he could hold Callie and give her everything he had inside himself. And provided she understood what was being offered…