by Sue MacKay
‘Trust me, you’re doing that in spades.’ His mouth returned to her nipple and with one hot flick her back was arching as need sparked through her.
How? She hadn’t done anything. Mac’s hands touched her as though with wonder. Her. Amazing...
‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispered against her breasts.
She tensed. He couldn’t see her properly in the semi-dark.
‘I mean it,’ he growled against her skin, sending shivers of heat through her.
To hell with not touching him. It was agony, and ecstasy. It was wonderful and frustrating and oh... ‘Do that again.’
Her body was shattering as a conflagration of desire and love rolled through her, took her out of this world and shut her mind down, leaving her free to absorb the wonder of Mac’s lovemaking.
And then he was above her, entering her, taking her to a whole new level of wonder, going with her, until they both peaked and the heat exploded around, through, between them.
Breaking the rules wasn’t so bad.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KELLI HADN’T STOPPED smiling since Mac made love to her last night, and everyone was noticing.
‘You two are hot together.’ Leanne grinned as they walked into the salon where they were to be made beautiful. ‘I’ve never seen you so happy.’
Mac had told her she was beautiful and she’d begun to go with it. To trust him on this. He hadn’t turned away from her that morning when they’d woken in full daylight, he hadn’t studied her like a specimen to be catalogued, or the night before’s mistake. No scalpels in sight. Instead Mac had reached for her and caressed her before making love with her again. He’d made them late for breakfast and earned a whole load of witty comments from her obnoxious brothers. Mac was in for a long morning on the golf course unless he managed to shut them down.
‘I hope those men don’t wear themselves out playing golf. Especially Billy. He’s going to need his stamina for the wedding and the wedding night.’ Kelli poked Leanne on the arm. Back at you.
The bride-to-be only laughed. ‘No worries on that score.’ Then she stopped and hugged Kelli. ‘As long as you’re happy, that’s all anyone wants.’
Her heart stuttered. This wasn’t how it was meant to go. The crash was going to hurt a lot more than she’d expected. But then she’d never meant to make love with Mac, or to find herself falling for him. ‘I am,’ she managed around her doubts. If it were all true then she’d be crazy happy, not just warily perched on cloud nine. Next time Tamara had any insane suggestions like asking Mac to accompany her to something, she’d hang up and stay hung up. Not that it had been her friend’s idea to fake an engagement; that brainwave lay entirely with Mac.
But if she’d ignored Tamara she’d have missed out on getting close to Mac, last night being the icing on the cake so far. Tonight might lead to an even sweeter topping. Then tomorrow would come and they’d continue the charade but on Monday reality would strike and the show would be over. Her stomach cramped. Her mouth dried. No. She didn’t want that. But perhaps Mac did. He’d signed up for a weekend, not a lifetime. By his own admission this was his first foray back into the dating world. Apparently she had a lot to do with his willingness to participate, but he’d be wanting to test the waters, try out other offerings.
What if she made him fall in love with her? Was that even possible? Where to start?
‘Kelli, my girl, don’t stand there looking lost.’ Mum was at her side. ‘You’re up for nails first.’
Was this a sign? An answer to her question? Get made to look more than her best, starting with her nails? Be so alluring Mac couldn’t resist her. It was a start, and the only one she could come up with. Though it did reek with falseness. Shallow. Not how she wanted any relationship she was involved in to go. She knew first-hand the downside to that. But striving to look fabulous so as to deflect Mac seeing the real her was being honest to herself in a way. Though she was meant to be toughening up about that, it was hard to stop hiding behind amazing clothes and hairstyles and sometimes even witty conversation. Incredible how many people bought it, saw only what she wanted them to.
Mac’s not like that.
Could explain her feelings for him. But it’d be a big step to trust him never to see her faults.
‘Kelli, you’re daydreaming.’
‘Yes, Mum.’ Sinking onto the chair being held out for her by the nail technician, she smothered a wry smile. If only she were truly engaged and could enjoy the moments of excitement like Leanne, but since she couldn’t she’d make the most of the day and have some fun, maybe even figure out how to make Mac think twice about walking away next week.
She could try just being herself. There was a novel idea, and it fitted with being strong.
The hour of the wedding ceremony sped towards Kelli so fast she thought she’d never be ready in time. With chaos surrounding her Leanne had become cool and calm, organising her best friend into the bridesmaid dress and not panicking when some buttons popped off. Kelli took over there, reattaching them with needle and thread after realigning others to allow a bit more room so the dress wasn’t quite as tight.
When Kelli went to get dressed in her specially made teal silk shift Mac was nowhere to be seen. His suit was gone so she presumed he’d already showered and dressed and was with the guys somewhere. She swallowed her disappointment at not preparing alongside him. That was what couples did; not them. To be fair, she’d left him with the brothers for most of the day so couldn’t expect him to be hanging around waiting for her when she chose to make an appearance. They’d managed lunch together, along with most of the family: a rushed meal with people coming and going, grabbing sandwiches and coffee to have on the run.
Andy had come over when Mac was with her to say, ‘Don’t believe this one whenever he says he’s not good at something. He aced the golf.’
Mac had looked the picture of innocence as he’d said, ‘I don’t recall saying I wasn’t any good at golf.’
Not those exact words, no. ‘You did kind of imply it,’ she’d laughed before devouring a small salad. This getting glammed up was hard work.
Kelli had just slipped into her dress when the door to the suite opened and Mac strolled in, looking divine in his dark grey evening suit and white shirt. ‘Oh, my.’
‘Have I got grease on my chin?’ The hunk grinned.
She fixed him a look that said ‘don’t fool with me’, and growled, ‘Can you do up my zip?’ How like a couple that sounded. ‘Would you mind?’
‘No, I’d hate it.’ He was still grinning, which took the edge off what he’d said.
‘Then I’ll pop down the hallway and knock on the next door to find someone else to help me.’
‘Oh, no, you won’t,’ he growled back. ‘While we’re a couple, that’s my job.’ He stepped behind her and sucked in a breath.
While we’re a couple. A thrill shivered through her. Mac wasn’t touching her zipper. ‘Problem?’
A gentle tug where the zip started, then zilch. Only the sensation of kisses whispering over the skin between her shoulder blades. ‘Mac.’ She had no idea if she said his name out loud, no idea of anything except those kisses caressing her, of whispers of breath as his mouth caressed her skin. ‘Mac. Please.’
‘Please what?’ he asked quietly beside her ear.
Tipping her head back, she felt his lips moving slowly up her neck, tasting her, awakening her, tightening her belly and creating a tsunami of need centred at her core. ‘Take me.’
His laugh was low and sexy and intensified everything she was feeling. ‘And have your mother banging down the door asking why we’re not already waiting in the ceremony garden? No, Kelli, this is something to be going on with until tonight.’
Mac said that? Nothing like his usual measured speech and words, more like a hot man in need of getting c
lose and personal—with her. Twisting around in his arms her hip swept across his need, rock hard and pushing the front of his trousers out of shape. What was going on? Apart from lust? Did Mac want more too? More likely now he’d got back in the saddle he’d be unable to stop. There was a drought of four years to make up for. Kelli shuddered as if a bucket of icy water had been dumped on her.
Knock, knock. ‘Kelli, Mac, are you in there?’ Dad called from the hallway.
‘What did I tell you?’ Mac grinned. ‘Trish has sent the cavalry. I’m in the bathroom until Dale’s gone.’
‘Good idea,’ Kelli muttered, glancing at the evidence of his need. ‘But first, my zip?’
Nothing sensual about the way Mac dealt with it this time; up and closed, done deal, and her skin was bereft.
Opening the door, she gasped. ‘Hey, Dad, what’s up?’
‘Your mother needs you. Something to do with her jacket not sitting right.’ Dad glanced around. ‘Where’s Mac? He’s not gone down already?’
‘He’s in the bathroom.’ She slipped her arm through her father’s. ‘Come on. Let’s go sort Mum out.’
‘We can wait for Mac. It’s nothing urgent, just Trish flapping in panic with nothing to do. She’s so organised, every box ticked twice, nothing going wrong, I swear she’s made this crisis up because she can’t deal with quiet time.’
Wait for Mac? Kelli could feel laughter beginning to unleash inside. She’d be waiting for ever. ‘Mac,’ she called and swallowed. ‘You going to be long? We’re waiting for you.’ If only she could see his face. It’d be a picture for sure.
The bathroom door cracked open. ‘Nearly ready,’ Mac said in such a normal I-am-in-control voice that she had to wonder if there weren’t two Macs hanging out in the bathroom.
‘That was quick.’ The devil had got her tongue. When his eyes widened, she laughed. And then turned away to distract her father. Just in case all was not quite ‘ready’.
* * *
Of course Kelli cried when Leanne walked down the petal-strewn path towards Billy and the marriage celebrant. She cried as her brother said his vows, and when he slid the ring onto Leanne’s finger. It would’ve been rude not to when there were tears tracking down Billy’s cheeks too. Mac kept handing her tissues from what seemed like a never-ending supply in his pockets. With his other hand he held one of hers, fingers laced, and his thumb rubbing circles on her skin.
‘I’ll need to find the make-up artist for a repair job soon,’ she murmured as she mopped up yet more tears. These ones were for what might have been if only she and Mac were for real.
Mac’s fingers squeezed hers. ‘You don’t need make-up.’
‘What is it about weddings that makes me cry? It’s not something I go around doing much.’
‘You’re happy for Billy and Leanne. And...’ he leaned closer ‘...you’re not the only one. There’s hardly a dry-eyed female around here.’
‘And Dad.’ An emotional man, her father, not afraid to show his feelings. ‘Third and last son married off.’
‘The focus on you is going to be turned up something awful.’ Mac stared at her for a long moment.
‘What?’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing.’
Kelli stood up. ‘I’m going to kiss my new sister-in-law then get us some champagne.’ She wasn’t going to waste time and a wonderful day worrying what was behind that look. Plenty of time once she was back in Auckland to try unravelling what went on in that craggy head focused on her.
* * *
For the dinner Mac sat with Kelli at the family table in front of the wedding party. The food was divine, the speeches heart-wrenching at times and hilarious at others. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so relaxed amongst people who twenty-four hours ago had been strangers. When he and Cherie got married there’d only been a handful of friends and relatives, and while it had been wonderful there hadn’t been this amazing family atmosphere.
Dale and Trish had accepted him as Kelli’s fiancé and all her brothers had gone out of their way to make him welcome. Which meant trying to catch him out with questions about his past, and challenging him to a game of darts—blindfolded. As for that golf, thank the lucky stars his game had been on. The guys would never have let him live it down if he’d lost to them.
It was all fun and friendly, not a hint of unacceptance. It threatened to drag him in; to tempt him to make this a permanent arrangement; to let go the past and aim for a future. With the gorgeous and loving woman sitting beside him, her hand on his thigh. Possessively? Or lovingly? Or what?
Leaning back in his chair, he covered Kelli’s hand with his, felt her jerk as though she hadn’t realised what she’d been doing. Pressing down gently, he kept her from withdrawing. He liked her touch, liked that she was happy to be seen touching him. This wasn’t a game, wasn’t for show to underline their engagement. Kelli had acted impulsively and that stirred him deeply, suggested he might be able to move on some day. Was already easing out of the gloom.
Pulling the brakes back on his emotions was impossible right now. He wanted to let loose a bit, and plain old enjoy a weekend with a woman without having to worry about what tomorrow might bring. As though someone had lifted the shutters on his grief and light had spilled in to banish the darkness. Monday would be the end of this so he might as well grab today and tomorrow with both hands and have a blast. Which included giving Kelli a good time. She deserved it, and he was happy to oblige.
‘Up to dancing?’ Kelli leaned in to ask, teasing his senses with the smell of roses.
‘Now there’s a loaded question.’ The band had started up a few minutes ago and already the dance floor was heaving. He stood up, tugging Kelli with him, still holding her hand. He never wanted to let her go again.
But he would. He had to. She needed someone she could trust to watch her back. Someone like Jason. That man was perfect for her. Her parents hadn’t done her a disservice trying to convince her to date him. Not once since they’d all arrived on Waiheke had he been rude or nasty to him, or Kelli. He’d taken their engagement on the chin like a real bloke.
Kelli was moving to the music as though she’d invented dancing. Her long body swaying and her hips gyrating, her head tipped back so those dark blonde waves of hair fell down her back.
Mac went with her, his moves matching hers. His mouth was dry and his gut tight. Keep this up and he’d need to take her to the beach before the music stopped. Kiss her senseless, make love to her behind the trees like a crazed teen, hear her groan with pleasure. Come to think of it, he felt like a teen who’d just discovered sex. No slow reawakening for him. Instead wham, bam, can we do it again? He’d gone from low, low, low to a searing high.
There was only one way to go after that.
* * *
The band had packed up, the bride and groom had left for their suite, and some of the guests were sitting around the tables leisurely drinking more champagne while they talked and laughed the night away.
Mac and Kelli went for a stroll along the beach, hand in hand, Kelli’s shoes swinging from the fingers of her free hand. ‘It’s good to see Billy so happy,’ she said. ‘There’ve been times when none of us believed he’d ever be again.’
Mac felt a hitch in his chest. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Like you he is, was, a widower.’
The hitch became an ache. ‘No one’s said a word all weekend.’
‘Why would we? Everyone knows about it, no one wanted to blight his and Leanne’s special day. Billy has moved on, found happiness again, but I know he hasn’t forgotten Carla. Why would he? Why should he? They were a couple in love when life took a tragic turn. Carla would’ve been the first person to kick his butt and tell him to get on with being happy.’
‘What happened?’ There was a blockage in Mac’s throat impeding his words,
flattening them.
‘They’d been at Billy’s rugby club Christmas party and he’d had too much to drink so Carla drove them home. It was a wet night and she took a corner too fast, spun out and slammed into a power pole.’
Game over. Mac could feel Billy’s pain. ‘Bet he felt guilty about not being able to drive.’
Kelli nodded as understanding filled her eyes. ‘You’d know about that. The guilt, I mean.’
‘Yeah.’ The word sighed out of him. ‘Totally.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
Strangely, he did. Which was a first, apart from Tom. Not even his mother had been able to get a word about Cherie’s death. ‘Cherie had an aneurism.’
Kelli squeezed his fingers and kept walking. ‘That made you feel guilty how?’
Not he shouldn’t be guilty, but why. ‘I’m a doctor.’
‘She’d had symptoms? There usually aren’t any for an aneurism.’
‘I should’ve known something was wrong. I didn’t. Not a whisper, not a hint. I had come home late and Cherie was already in bed asleep.’ Tipping his head back, he stared up at the stars, swallowing the pain. ‘I remember feeling relieved I could slide in beside her, tuck my arm around her waist, and give into the exhaustion overwhelming me.’ He’d been working horrendous hours as he studied for his final exam in emergency medicine and did the days and nights in ED. ‘The alarm woke me. Not Cherie. She was gone. According to the autopsy report she’d died about three hours before I woke up. How could I not have known?’ The despair, guilt, the anguish all poured out of him in that last question. ‘How?’ They’d been so connected, so in touch with each other, loved and understood one another so well. ‘How?’ he cried at the stars.
Kelli’s arms wound around him, held him tight. Her head was tucked against his shoulder, her mouth quiet, her body supple and giving.
Mac breathed deep, drawing in Kelli’s scent. Kelli’s. The rose fragrance stirred him, reminded him of other things that used to be a part of his life. His family history, the home he grew up in, the laughter whenever Dad was away, the love, the anger. The good and bad. There’d been difficult times, days when he’d nearly run away out of fear of his father, yet he’d stayed because of his mum. Stayed and survived to go on to become a successful doctor, to marry a wonderful woman—and lose her. His heart banged against his ribs. He should’ve known Cherie was unwell. He’d survived that. If being wary and holding onto his heart and not wanting to get involved with anyone for fear of not being able to protect them, save them, was survival.