by Ros Baxter
Gage lay back down next to her and wrapped her in his arms, and she couldn’t recall ever feeling so warm, safe and completely turned on all at once.
‘Y’know I love you, right?’ His voice was deep but very soft, like he was afraid she might change her mind if he said those words.
She nodded. ‘I do, but you might want to work on your delivery.’
He laughed loudly, shaking his head. Then he studied her carefully. ‘Maybe I need a demonstration.’ His voice was light, but Lou caught the undercurrent. He needed this; he needed to know.
She lifted her hands and caught his face in them. This beautiful man, this other part of her – how could he doubt it? ‘I love you,’ she whispered. Then, louder and more clearly. ‘I love you so much that every day away from you … Every day of the last twenty years has been like a physical pain.’ She thumped her chest. ‘Here.’
He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, breathing against her ear. ‘I know,’ he said, lowering his body to lie beside her. He wrapped big arms around her, wriggling her a little so he could hook one underneath her and drag her closer. ‘But I’m going to make it all go away. I promise. I love you, Louise Samuels. There’s never been anyone else for me. You staked a claim on me twenty-something years ago and I’ve been no good for anything since. You’re a witch.’ He nuzzled her cheek and his stubble teased the soft skin. ‘And I don’t care.’ He pulled himself back up onto one elbow, looking down at her. ‘How was that delivery?’
Lou smiled. ‘Not bad. It’ll get better with practice.’
He growled at her and released her from the warm enclosure of his arms. She wanted to whimper at the loss until he rolled over and pressed himself on top of her.
‘You’ll pay for that,’ he scolded, lifting her hands and pinning them above her head on the blanket like he had that day on the mountain. Then he started kissing her again, stroking her neck and shoulders lightly with his free hand, teasing her breasts, and running his hand over every warm, electrified inch of her. Lou’s body turned swiftly to mush. She was ready – so ready – to have him inside her.
But he wasn’t ready. Not yet.
He used one hand to flip her onto her tummy, still keeping her hands above her head, so that her breasts pressed into the rough ground and were teased by the old blanket. It was painful but exquisite. Then he started work on the back of her, releasing her hands so he had two of his own to work with. She was so drugged with lust that she kept her arms stretched out above her head while he ran his hands up and down the length of her. He started at her shoulder blades, tracing the shape and line of them, then smoothed rough hands down her ribs, running one finger along the line of her spine. His fingers outlined the sides of her body, rubbing softly along the swell of her breasts, then his hands were at her lower back as it became her buttocks, and he filled his hands with them, softly at first, then kneading and squeezing with more intensity.
Lou squirmed and writhed on the blanket, her hips bucking against it, her legs opening, wondering where the divine downwards dance might stop. His fingertips waltzed down the last curve of her buttocks and then onto the top of her thighs, starting a teasing tango across thighs and buttocks – up, down and across, over and over again.
She groaned into the blanket. ‘Enough already.’
He laughed, a dark, intense laugh that only sent her tummy further into freefall. ‘What do you want, baby?’
She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t speak.
‘Is it this?’ He pressed one finger against the hot centre of her.
She whimpered.
‘More?’
‘If you stop I’ll kill you,’ she groaned.
‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he said, pressing a finger inside her as her muscles went into spasms of welcoming delight.
And then he started the dance again, circling her thighs, buttocks and back with one hand while the other teased and discovered her, alternating between slow, lazy circles and increasingly insistent thrusts deep inside her. The combination of caress and plunder was almost unbearable. Her hips bucked against his hand and every piece of her quivered. He needed to hurry the hell up or this was going to be a one-woman show.
Gage obviously had the same idea because without warning he flipped her over again. ‘That was good,’ he murmured, pushing her hair out of her eyes. ‘But I really need to kiss you.’ So he did, and the sweet assault of it was almost a relief after the impossible intensity of the pleasure he had been giving her.
She pressed her breasts into his warm, naked chest as he kissed her, wriggling herself into position so that the length of him pushed hard against her. He groaned as she squirmed under him.
‘If you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to contain myself.’
‘Good,’ she said, reaching down to touch him, almost passing out at the length and girth of him. ‘’Cause I can’t wait any longer.’
And then he was above her, his face more intense than she had ever seen it, those dark eyes burning into hers, and that wicked mouth repeating the words he had said to her twenty years before.
‘Are you sure? Because you know, once we do this, there’s no going back.’
He was so beautiful, and the night was clear and starry and perfect, and she had wanted this for so long, that Lou had no doubt. It didn’t matter that she was seventeen – she knew. But she couldn’t speak; her throat wouldn’t make the sounds. So she nodded, and then nodded again. She was sure as hell, but she was scared. She knew nothing of men, and she knew that he knew a hell of a lot of women.
‘Do you always bring them here?’ she said finally. She loved that he had brought her to his home, to this little stand of eucalypt trees, on this rise near the waterhole, with the stars pressing in on them like brilliant voyeurs. The waterhole felt so much like their place. The place she had watched him, for so long. The place he had watched her. She couldn’t bear the thought that she wasn’t the first to lie here with him.
He gently reached down and stroked her face. ‘Never,’ he insisted, his cheeks flushed and his face earnest. ‘And I swear to you no-one will ever come here with me after tonight. No-one but you.’ He touched her hair, feeling it between his fingers. ‘This is different, Lou,’ he whispered. ‘We’re different.’
She knew it. ‘Hurry up,’ she said.
‘No way,’ he countered, a look on his face like he’d just been offered first prize in something truly spectacular, and had no intention of hurrying his pleasure. Or hers.
Lou had never imagined it could be like that. He was so slow, so sweet and so entirely focused on her that the shivers that started in her tummy spread like wildfire through her whole body and across every inch of her skin.
By the time they joined, she couldn’t remember where she stopped and Gage began.
Lou lay panting on the old blanket, wondering how anything could have been as good as that first time.
But somehow, it had been.
‘Last time we did this, you told me you would meet me on Sunday for lunch,’ Gage whispered into her ear. ‘And I didn’t see you for twenty years.’
She turned to look at him and he closed his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not trying to give you the guilts; I’m just afraid that if I shut my eyes you might disappear.’
She pinched his cheek lightly. ‘Stop worrying, Gage Westin,’ she said, leaning in to kiss his swollen lips. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
Epilogue
Lou stood at the graveside, alone.
She had asked Gage to give her some time.
The little headstone was small and perfect, just as Skye had said she wanted. It was engraved with the words ‘Free at last’, also on Skye’s request.
And more importantly, it stood beside Hannah’s. It seemed fitting to Lou that she was visiting Hannah’s resting place for the first time on this day. She had told Skye she would come here with her, but Skye had only gotten sicker, and had not been able to make it out of the hospital to the cemetery. So on the day
she said goodbye to her mother, she was also seeing Hannah for the first time in twenty years.
Lou had been contained during the ceremony, lost in thoughts about all she had to do, and what would come next. But now, now was her time.
She kneeled between the two small graves, closing her eyes and picturing the two people who had defined her life. The empty space inside her where her mother had been felt raw and ragged, despite the years of estrangement. There was something entirely surprising about finding yourself motherless. Lou felt anchorless; as though her very nature was somehow changed. She no longer had a mother, albeit a flawed one.
She was just Lou.
Hot tears grabbed at her eyes as she pressed her hands into the dirt between the two graves. ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.’
She straightened her shoulders and turned to Hannah’s grave, where earlier today she had placed white daisies. ‘Baby girl,’ she whispered, seeing the little round body and hearing the sweet voice, as though she had only just been taken as well. A fresh wall of grief smashed into Lou as she knelt beside her sister’s grave. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She knelt in the dirt, tears pooling near her knees, for a long time, wondering how she would get up, how she would ever leave them both.
Then she realised she didn’t have to. She could come back here; she could see them again. She could work this through with the help of the people who cared about her, one step at a time. She turned her head and looked up the hill. Gage was a distant figure, his long black overcoat flapping in the breeze. The sight of him sent a surge of strength through her and she managed to clamber to her feet.
It was time to go home.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks for this novel go, as always, to my support crew – my husband Blair, my sister Alison, and my babies. Next comes the lovely Sue Brockhoff of MIRA and Kate Cuthbert of Escape Publishing, who have both been so supportive of my work.
I’d like to extend special thanks to Kylie and Annabel, my editing team. Kylie did such a beautiful and faithful job with my story, and was a dream to work with.
Also to my wonderful community of author friends, thank you. I can’t imagine any other vocation where your colleagues are so encouraging.
To the reviewers and readers who have bought, read and promoted my books – you deserve a very personal note of thanks; you make it possible to keep going when the demons of doubt yowl at the door.
And last but not least, to the women who hold up my life – those wonderful girlfriends who step in to help with the load of work, life, mothering and writing when it all seems TOO BIG. Without you, I’m toast. Or at least, checking into rehab.
Connect with us for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Subscribe to our newsletter
Share your reading experience on:
Harlequin Books
Facebook
Twitter
Watch our reviews, author interviews and more on Harlequin TV
ISBN: 9781760376000
Title: Set in Stone
First Australian Publication 2015
Copyright © 2015 by Ros Baxter
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher:
Harlequin Enterprises
Level 4, 132 Arthur Street
North Sydney NSW 2060
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
MIRA and the Star Colophon are trademarks used under license and registered in Australia, New Zealand, Philippines, United States Patent and Trademark Office in other countries.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at [email protected].
www.harlequinbooks.com.au