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Running Scarred (Scarred Series Book 1)

Page 11

by Jackie Williams


  They lay spent and gasping, the roar of his agonized release still ringing in her ears as the sheets tangled around them. Their perspiration was drying on their naked bodies. He was still on top of her, still deep inside her, and they were both still breathing hard.

  Patrick pressed his forehead into her shoulder, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. It had been over in minutes, both too frantic with pent up desire to think about making it last. But it had been the most intense few minutes of his entire life. Her hair had come out of the clip again and he could feel it covering his face. He could hear the rapid thumping of her heart. He bent a little further and caught her nipple between his lips. It tightened instantly. He swirled his tongue over the hard bud and listened to Ellen moan in pleasure.

  He had never felt emotions like this in his whole life. He lay there, bathed in a glow of complete satisfaction, in a wave of glory so intense he wanted to shout for joy. He felt her move slightly under his weight and he lifted his head to look at her beautiful face.

  Her fabulous eyes were closed, her long lashes almost touching her flushed cheeks, and a small, satisfied smile was playing about the corners of her perfect lips. She looked as content as he felt.

  “Ellen?” He whispered, checking. “Are you okay?”

  The smile became wider. She nodded and stretched slightly and then grimaced.

  “Sorry.” She opened her eyes. “Can you just move your leg?” He lifted his hip slightly and she gasped as the silicone cup pulled away from her skin.

  He looked down in horror as he saw where the moulding of his prosthetic limb had grazed her inner thigh.

  “God damn this thing!” He spoke bitterly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I’ve not done anything like this since before it happened.” He struggled to get up, but she held onto his shoulders, forcing him to be still.

  “No, stay here. Now that I have you, I don’t want you to move. We’ll just have to remember to take it off next time.” She let her fingers trail lazily through his hair.

  He lay back down again and sighed deeply.

  “So there is going to be a next time then?” He could hardly bear to ask.

  She pulled in an indignant breath and glared at him.

  “I should bloody well hope so! After all the misunderstanding and effort it’s taken to get you, I should hope there will be quite a few next times.” She smiled into his hair.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me? I was driving myself mad avoiding you. I thought you would be repulsed by me.” He lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

  Her hair tumbled about her shoulders as she shook her head.

  “Why? I never once gave you any reason to make you think I might find you unattractive. I fell in love with you before I even saw you, the night you rescued me. I sat up the whole night while my fiancé puked his guts up, just wanting to smell you again. I sat with your coat around me the whole night long.”

  He grunted.

  “So that’s why it was covered with your scent. I thought you might have sprayed it to get rid of the smell of the wood smoke. I nearly came and asked for it back. I followed you after I’d sent you in the right direction. I was telling myself it was to make sure you didn’t go the wrong way down the road, but it wasn’t that really. I just wanted to keep looking at you.” He smiled sheepishly up at her.

  She laughed.

  “That’s nothing. I thought I was going to go mad with you being so close to me when you were showing me the château. And when we nearly kissed, you suddenly hesitated. I was so angry with Anton. If he hadn’t kicked that stone at the crucial moment everything might have been different. I thought afterwards, when you nearly fell and seemed so furious, that I was wrong about the way you were feeling, that you didn’t like me at all.”

  He pulled her down to him again and pressed his lips gently to hers, savouring the taste of her before he replied.

  “No, I was trying very hard not to take you on that filthy floor. I never wanted anything so much in my whole life. It was taking every bit of my self-control just to keep my hands off you. I had to stand in a cold shower for over an hour when I got back here. When you came here yesterday, I thought I was going to attack you. I had to get you away from me. I thought I was losing it completely. The last few months have been sheer hell.”

  She breathed out slowly.

  “And I thought I was making my feelings clear. I thought you would see what I was feeling. I felt so different, so new and I was so glad to be away from Justin.”

  Patrick suddenly froze beside her, remembering her fiancé’s visit. His tone was hard.

  “But you still have Justin. I showed him up here not long after you bought the place if you remember.” He pushed himself out of her arms. “Hang on. Oh! I get it now. I know what’s really going on here!”

  She grabbed him back, clutching his shoulders hard as she spoke desperately, knowing exactly what was going through his mind.

  “I broke it off with him after I first met you, and then I had to tell him again the next morning as soon as he was sober enough to listen to me. I can’t believe I put up with him for so long. It took me over three years to realize what a self-centered idiot he is. I tried to tell you when you came up to the château the day you directed him, but you wouldn’t listen. You walked off. Hey! What’s the matter?” She asked as he wrenched himself away from her. She sat up and pulled the duvet around her.

  Patrick flopped back onto his side of the bed. He wiped his hand across his face, thinking hard.

  “You broke it off that first night? Really? I don’t believe you. You can’t possibly have thought like that about me after one chance meeting. You hadn’t even seen me. You can’t fall in love with a smell.” He closed his eyes again, breathing hard as he tried to overpower his temper that was threatening to rage out of control.

  She spoke gently, moving closer to him again.

  “I didn’t need to see you to know I was in love with you. If Anton hadn’t been there that day when you showed me the château, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. And yesterday, well, if it hadn’t been such a long, stressful day and if I hadn’t had to get that blasted lorry loaded, I might have tried a bit harder.” She ran her fingertips along the scars on his face.

  He snatched at her hand, pulling it away from his tattered skin. He opened his eyes, suddenly even more furious.

  He growled out his words.

  “Stop it Ellen. You’re just saying these things. I know the truth! This is all just some elaborate plan to get me out of your hair. Did you and your fiancé cook this scenario up when he came to visit you? Is this what you argued over? Did he convince you that having sex with me would swing my vote?” He sat up quickly and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm his racing, breaking heart. “Look it’s okay. I get it now. You just used me, but don’t worry, I’m not holding you to anything. This was just a one off, okay. You don’t have to lie to me about your fiancé anymore.” He began dragging a pair of jeans over his legs.

  Ellen sat stunned for a second, not knowing whether to be more angry than upset. Then she saw the agonized look on his face. She could almost feel his pain.

  Her voice cracked.

  “Patrick! Don’t say that. I’m not using you and I’m not trying to trick you or lie to you either. Why do you think I wouldn’t tell you the truth?” She was scrabbling to get out of the bed after him.

  He threw her clothes onto the bed and pulled on his shirt. He couldn’t bear to look at her delicious body again. The thought of giving her up now nearly killed him on the spot, but he took in a ragged breath and then breathed it out slowly.

  “Come on, get dressed. This meant nothing. I’ll sign those papers and let you get back on with your life. You can go back to him now. I’ll stay out of your way.” His tone was resigned as he stood up and moved towards the door.

  She dropped the duvet and swung her legs over the side of the bed. His dismissive, disinteres
ted tone made her see red.

  “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not going back to him! I didn’t want to see him that day he showed up here, and I don’t want to ever again. He was threatening me. He just wanted more money. If you had arrived only a few moments earlier you would know that I’m not lying.” She was shaking in distress, desperate to convince him. “I’m telling the truth Patrick. And why would I need to seduce you now anyway? I already have the permits. I love you. Do you need more proof?”

  He was suddenly very still again, watching her carefully. There was something frantic in her tone. And then she came up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. The fabric of the shirt he had dragged over his shoulders, rubbed against her naked breasts. Her nipples peaked against him.

  He was staring at her incredulously. It just couldn’t be true. She couldn’t love him. It wasn’t possible that someone so beautiful could love someone so ruined.

  But she was still there, standing defiantly in front of him. Close, warm, soft, fragrant and fabulous and still completely naked.

  She stepped in even nearer, pressing her slender body against him, moulding herself to him.

  “Do you need me to prove it to you? Patrick?” She asked again, her hands were in his hair now, her fingers running gently over his scalp, her lips hot and moist on his neck.

  He pulled himself away and tipped her chin back searching deep into her dark eyes, expecting mockery, expecting lies. He saw only the truth and the deepest desire pooled there. His whole being calmed, but his blood began to race again. He felt his passion throb and harden. He lifted his hand to her face, cupping it gently and tipping her chin further. He felt her sweet breath flood over him.

  “Do I need you to prove that you love me?” He asked as his gaze drowned in hers. “Oh God yes!” He whispered, crushing her lips with his own as he began tearing off his shirt.

  They didn’t surface until the evening. They had made love frantically again, desperate for each other, then dozed for half the afternoon, and then they joined together yet again. Slowly, sensuously this time. Hours passed, touching, tasting, exploring.

  As the light began to fade through the trees outside the window, a soft chirping sound roused them. Ellen leaned over the side of the bed and began to search through their discarded heap of clothes, for her mobile phone.

  “Don’t answer it” Patrick murmured. He rolled over and dragged her back to his side.

  She snuggled into his broad chest.

  “What time is it?” She asked lazily.

  “About seven I think. Maybe later. Why? Do you have anything you’re meant to be at?” He curled a strand of her hair round his finger and tugged gently, bringing her face level with his. She put her lips on his, flicking her tongue over his teeth, then moved back again.

  “No, it’s just that David normally rings about now, if he’s not on duty.”

  Patrick raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  “On duty? Doing what? I thought you said he’s a double amputee.” He propped himself up on his elbow, suddenly interested.

  She looked up at him, rolling her eyes as she traced the lines of his scars with her fingertip. He shuddered slightly, but didn’t stop her. Ellen dropped her finger.

  “I said he’d lost his legs and most of his face, not his brain. He works in army intelligence now. Most of his mates are there too. They all took on office jobs after being wounded in active service. I’m surprised that you didn’t do something similar.” The phone had stopped ringing. “Oh well, I’ll just have to speak to him some other time.”

  Patrick relaxed back in the bed, but then his stomach gave a huge growl.

  Ellen laughed.

  “All the exercise made you hungry?”

  “Starving. We missed breakfast and lunch. Guy my size needs feeding regularly. Come on let’s see what I’ve got hanging around.” He leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed his prosthetic leg from the floor. He winced as he tried to force the cradle onto his severed limb. “Damn. I’ve damaged it. It fell when I pulled it off.”

  She watched over his shoulder as he tugged it back into shape. It creaked ominously.

  “Well, you were in rather a hurry to get rid of it.” She giggled and pulled his shirt over her head. It dropped to past her thighs. His stomach gave another huge rumble and he jammed the leg onto the stump of his thigh.

  He stood up at last.

  “I think there’s some cassoulet left from yesterday. Fancy that?” He asked her. “It’s home made.” He lugged on some clothes.

  “Hmm, lovely. I don’t cook a lot, not that I could do much cooking at the château anyway. I’ve only just had the electricity put on in the kitchen. I’ve been living off bread and cheese and cheap Champagne for the last eight weeks.”

  Patrick laughed as he bustled about the kitchen.

  “Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

  Half an hour later they were tucking into deliciously tender pork loins covered with garlic, onions and haricot beans. He opened a bottle of red wine and poured it into beautifully fine wine glasses. They talked quietly as they ate.

  “So what are you really thinking of doing with the place. As you said, I left the meeting early and didn’t hear the full plans.” He put a last morsel into his mouth and chewed slowly.

  She looked up suddenly. She hadn’t thought about her project all day. She thought about why, and smiled.

  “You stayed to hear that it’s going to be a hotel for people with disabilities. The forces especially. I want somewhere fabulous that you can go. To relax with the family and not even think about being stared at or if the right equipment might be available. I want people to know they will be completely looked after, but also have the independence they crave. I want the kids to have a great time with mum and dad, not even considering what other people might think of their parents.”

  Patrick laid his fork on his empty plate.

  “Huh! Sounds great if it’s families but if it’s just us blokes then I still think it sounds a bit grim. It’ll be like something out of a horror movie. Like I said before, who’d want to see all us cripples shoved in one place all together.” He took another sip of wine.

  Ellen couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud, then stifled her giggles behind her hand.

  “Cripple! For Goodness Sake! After what we just did all afternoon! Give yourself a little credit Patrick. You must be the least crippled bloke I know.” Her eyes shone in merriment.

  He smiled widely back at her, suddenly feeling a little stupid. He puffed out his chest as her words stroked his undernourished ego.

  “Okay, I’ll give you that one, but there are a lot of blokes worse off than me. Your David for one. Can’t be much fun for him.”

  Ellen raised her eyebrows.

  “Don’t you ever let him hear you say anything like that Patrick or he’ll show you just how crippled he isn’t. And most of his mates are the same. They’re all as tough as old boots and even if they’re not, they’ll never show it. It’s not going to be grim Patrick. All those chaps and the women too, they’ll be able to bring their families to somewhere they’ll all enjoy, without all the fuss of ridiculous theme parks, where dad can’t go on anything and everyone is staring or they are all worrying about who has the key to the disabled loo. They’ll all love the woods and the river. I’m putting in a luxury spa and a huge pool and sauna in the basement. The restaurant is going to be fantastic, with a blazing fire and a hog roast or barbeques outside in the summer. There’s going to be a cinema in the attic and a piano bar in the great hall. We’re going to have black tie balls and parties for the kids.” She was animated and the red wine glistened on her lips.

  He was staring at her in awe.

  “Okay, I agree it sounds great. When you put it like that I’d even book to come myself, but it’s going to cost a bomb. With all that lot going on, and the condition of your clients, you’re going to need plenty of staff and a lot of specialist equipment. You’re only going to have mayb
e twenty rooms available to rent out. No bank is going to listen to it as a business proposition and us army guys don’t have the cash for that kind of holiday anyway. Most of us are lucky if we can afford a weekend at Butlins. I know we get compensation for our injuries, but that’s all eaten up just trying to live, that’s if you get any at all. I was blown up over two years ago and I’ve still only had a small interim payment. They are still haggling over how much they think my leg was worth. I think you’re wasting your time even thinking about it.”

  She caught hold of his hand and squeezed it gently.

  “Oh Patrick, do you think I haven’t thought about the funding. I’ve got some ideas to make up any shortfall. Let me worry about the money. Just at this moment, I’m rather more worried about you letting me stay here again tonight. I don’t think I can face that sleeping bag after a night and day in your wonderful bed.”

  He leaned forwards and brushed a stray strand of hair from across her forehead. His fingers were warm and gentle. He massaged her cheek with his thumb, gazing deeply into her dark eyes.

  His voice was suddenly husky with emotion.

  “Do you think I’d be so stupid as to let you go ever again? I’ve never met anyone like you before, and I’ve never felt like this before either Ellen. I only ever want to feel like this from now on. For the whole of the rest of my life.” His hand slipped inside the collar of the shirt she had pulled on and he caressed her across her shoulder. Her skin was smooth and incredibly soft. “I love you.” He whispered.

  She leaned towards him, her eyes full of desire again.

  “Does that mean I can stay?” She asked quietly as she pushed the plates to one side.

  He stood up quickly, shoving his chair back to the wall as he dragged the table out from between them. He took a step forwards, placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her up into his arms. He held her tight against him as he bent his head to hers.

  “Forever.” He whispered back. Then his mouth covered hers, his tongue tasting deeply as all thoughts of any more conversation disappeared in a haze of passion.

 

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