by Ella Hayes
He pulled out a chair for her. ‘I thought it would be nicer to eat in here than in the kitchen.’
She settled herself, touching the linen napkin. ‘Candles, music, table linen... Direk would be proud of you. Excellent romantic visualisation!’
He laughed, taking his place opposite her. ‘It’s much easier to visualise a room when you’ve got a reason to use it...’ The light in her eyes was soft and glowing. Maybe it was the candlelight. He reached for the bottle chilling in the ice bucket. ‘Wine?’
Her eyes flicked to the water glass he’d set out for himself. ‘Are you having some?’
‘No.’ He drew a slow breath, held it in his lungs. Maybe it was time to tell her. ‘I don’t drink alcohol, Mia.’
‘Ever...?’ He could see her taking it in, turning it over in her mind. ‘Why?’
‘I’d have thought it was obvious.’
Her tongue touched her lower lip. ‘Understandable, perhaps, but not obvious.’ Her eyes held his, questioning.
‘Look, my grandfather was an alcoholic...my father was an alcoholic. There’s clearly a gene, a weakness that runs in my family, and I’m not interested in putting myself to the test.’
Bram, eyes dulled with drink, knuckles white around the hilt of a cook’s knife, slashing at shadows.
He refocused. ‘I prefer to stay sharp.’
Eline’s taunting eyes... ‘Lighten up, Theo.’
He pushed the images away. ‘I like to be in control. Is that so wrong?’
She covered his hand with hers and squeezed it gently. ‘No, not at all.’ Her touch was reassuring and when she smiled there was nothing but acceptance in her eyes. ‘I’ll have a glass of water, please.’
She’d made it so easy, hadn’t thought that he was strange or uptight. As he filled their glasses, all his little tensions gave way to a warm, steady pulse of happiness.
‘Are you hungry?’
‘Starving!’ Her eyes danced. ‘Madelon bigged up your culinary skills so I’m looking forward to this.’
He grinned, lifting the lid off the serving dish. ‘Voila! Nasi goreng, Theo-style.’
* * *
‘So, what gives the planets their colour?’
She was peering through the telescope. He was unashamedly enjoying the view of her cute behind. He liked her in jeans, but he liked her in dresses too. Most of all, he liked her without clothes.
‘It’s to do with what they’re made of, and how the chemicals found in their atmospheres reflect and absorb sunlight.’
She shifted slightly. ‘So, what are they made of?’ Something in her voice, something about the way she was moving... ‘Venus, for example?’
He held in a smile. ‘Venus is a grey, rocky planet, but you can’t see any of that because its atmosphere is very dense with swirling sulphuric acid. The sulphur reflects sunlight, so Venus looks yellow.’
‘Hmm. What about Neptune?’ She shifted again and suddenly it was too much. He stepped behind her, slid his hands into her back pockets. She giggled, pushing her bottom into his hands. He felt a stab of desire and had to work at keeping his voice steady.
‘Neptune is a ball of gas, literally. There’s a lot of methane in its atmosphere, which absorbs red light from the sun, leaving only the blue. The blue’s reflected, so that’s why it looks like a blue planet.’
She was rotating her hips, distracting him deliberately. ‘That’s very interesting.’ She arched her back. ‘And what makes Mars red?’
He swallowed hard. ‘Iron oxide...dust...it gets blown into the atmosphere.’
She abandoned the telescope and fell back against him, spine curving, shoulder blades nesting into the barrel of his chest. She was shifting her hips from side to side, pressing against him, driving him wild. Her voice was a low tease. ‘Science at school was never as good as this.’
He smiled into her hair as he took his hands out of her back pockets. He knew how to tease her too. Slowly, he smoothed his palms over her taut abdomen and upward to her small, round breasts. The neckline of her silk blouse was low, but not low enough. He undid the small covered buttons, one by one, felt a tide of heat rising through his body as he slipped his fingers into the black lace of her bra. She moaned softly, and then she was twisting out of his hands, turning to face him, her eyes hazy with desire. ‘Could we take this downstairs?’
He pulled her hard against him, so she’d know exactly what she was doing to him, and then he kissed her, a hungry, hot kiss that made her moan softly into his mouth. He liked how much she wanted him. Her need made him feel strong, powerful in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time, but he couldn’t hold out on her for much longer. He needed her too, wanted her with every fibre of his being. When he broke their kiss, she was flushed and breathless, but no more than he was. He lifted her up, felt her arms and legs wrapping around him tightly.
‘Downstairs, you said...? Let’s go.’
CHAPTER NINE
MIA OPENED HER eyes, pushed the hair away from her face. She blinked, taking in the whiteness, the space, the quietness...a quietness broken only by the sound of steady breathing. She turned her head on the pillow. Theo was sleeping on his side, a peaceful expression on his face. Cloudless. She shifted a little so she could gaze at him.
Had she ever felt so thoroughly wanted, needed, desired? In bed, he held nothing back and, because he didn’t, she didn’t either. Physically, his devotion, his tenderness, his passion was absolute. It was almost as if he was trying to make up for his verbal reticence, as if he was trying to show her... What? His love? Was that what Madelon had been about to say when he’d stopped her with his tickling?
Was Theo in love with her?
She stretched out a hand, hovering it over his shoulder. He hadn’t said he was in love with her, but last night she’d felt it in his kiss, in his touch. She’d seen it in his eyes. She felt a smile growing on her lips. Yesterday, she’d been worried about falling in love with him, but this morning she could see it was too late. Love was already there, growing, unfurling inside her, a living, breathing thing. Maybe it had been there from the very first day...
She drew her hand back. Waking him would usher in the clouds, and she loved to see his face like this... Loved him. Period. She sighed softly, studying the smooth arc of his eyebrows, the gentle set of his mouth, the closed lips... He was keeping something from her. Yesterday, the thought of that had frightened her, but for some reason it didn’t any more. Maybe it was because of Madelon...
During the interview, Madelon had been open about her career but she’d been casually oblique about personal matters. It seemed that she was afflicted with the same reticence as her brother. There was comfort in that, because if they were both hiding it pointed to a reason that went beyond Theo’s defunct relationship with his ex-wife. After the interview, she’d felt calmer about things, more confident about loving Theo.
His eyelids were flickering. Such a handsome face... No, beyond handsome. She wanted to kiss him, hold him, tell him she’d always be there. If she had to wait for him to tell her the things that he was too frightened to share, then it was fine. There was no hurry. As for the Eline de Vries assignment...she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. The event was a full four months away. It was unlikely that Eline would be calling any time soon. She might even change her mind, choose someone else to write the programme.
He was stirring, then his eyes opened and he smiled sleepily. ‘Hello, beautiful.’
‘Good morning.’ She snuggled against his chest, kissing his sandpaper chin. ‘You look like a kid when you’re asleep.’ She traced her fingers across his forehead. ‘Everything smooth...no crinkles.’
‘Crinkles?’ He knitted his brows together then laughed. ‘You mean my frown lines...?’
‘Maybe they’re laughter lines.’
His eyes twinkled. ‘Only when I’m with you. You make me laugh, Mia. Y
ou bring me joy...’
Something behind his eyes; endless depths. She took a breath. ‘You bring me joy too.’
For a heartbeat he held her gaze and then his hand cupped the back of her neck, drawing her in for a kiss. It was slow, warm, gently arousing, a loving kiss that was tugging her into the warm shallows of desire, but she couldn’t let him love her again. Cleuso would be hungry; she had to go home.
She pulled away gently. ‘I can’t...’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
She felt her lips twitching upward. ‘Because of my dependant.’
‘Your dependant?’ He broke into a smile. ‘Ah... You mean you’re turning me down for a cat?’
She nodded. ‘He’ll be hungry.’
He threw her a deeply suggestive look. ‘So am I...’
‘I’m sorry.’ She wriggled out of his arms and sat up, looking at him over her shoulder. ‘I can come back later.’
He rolled up smoothly and swung out of bed. ‘I’ve got a better idea. I’ll walk you home.’
She eyed his naked buttocks wistfully. ‘You might want to get dressed first.’
* * *
The sound of the door being closed shattered the quiet for an instant, and then the hum of not-quite-silence resumed, broken only by the soft scuff of his shoes on the path as he walked towards her. She liked him in jeans and a tee shirt, his hair mussed, the planes of his face softened with stubble. He smiled. White teeth, green eyes...making her senses swim. She looked away, squinting into the low sun. ‘Isn’t this just the nicest time of day?’
He slung an arm around her shoulder. ‘It’s why I go running early. No one around. So quiet. It’s like a different city.’
She wrapped her arm around his waist and they started walking, slowly. ‘It’s like there are two different cities: the early morning one, then the crazy, busy one. I love them both.’ She tilted her face to catch his eye. ‘Have you always lived here?’
‘No. I was born in Delft.’
‘And...?’ Silence. ‘Then...?’
A shadow crossed his face. ‘I’m sorry, Mia. I don’t mean to be...’ He stopped walking, turned towards her. ‘I’m not trying to shut you out. It’s just that I find it hard to talk about my childhood.’ He folded her hand into his, his eyes full of gentle compassion. ‘I know you had a hard time too, losing your parents without warning, not knowing what really happened... That must be so hard to live with, but somehow you do. The great thing about you is that you seem to have accepted it. It’s part of who you are—that’s what you said.’
She gave a little shrug. ‘It’s not like I had a choice...’
‘No, but you wear it, and I admire that in you.’ His gaze seemed to turn inward. ‘I don’t feel that way. I don’t want anything from my past to be part of who I am.’ His eyes dimmed. ‘I’m ashamed.’
That raw edge in his voice; childhood sores still weeping. Her heart ached for him. ‘But it’s not your fault, Theo—what your father did. You’re not him; you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.’ She could tell from his eyes that he needed more than platitudes. Maybe she could steer him to a fresh slant on things. ‘Look at what you’ve achieved! MolTec’s a global business! Maybe some of the drive and determination it took to build it grew out of what you went through as a child—and think about Madelon. You’ve both done so well.’ She took her hand out of his, slipping her arms around his neck. ‘Sometimes adversity breeds strength... You can’t change the past, but maybe you need to look for the good in it.’
A smile touched the corners of his mouth. ‘You’re good at doing that. I can’t...’
‘You can.’ She released him, tugging his hand so they were walking again. ‘When we were in London, you told me about the planetarium in Franeker.’
‘You remember?’
‘Of course I do—you went there when you were a boy. So...who took you? How old were you?’
‘Six, maybe.’
‘And...?’
He sighed. ‘My father took us.’
‘You and Madelon and your brother? Does your brother have a name, by the way?’
He nodded. ‘Bram.’
Progress!
‘So, was your father into astronomy?’
Another nod.
A bicycle slid past, wheels humming rhythmically. She watched it growing smaller and smaller, counting the seconds, counting their footsteps: seven, eight, nine, ten...
‘He was a university lecturer.’
For some reason that surprised her—a reaction he must have read on her face because he let out a short, bitter laugh. ‘I know. Such a respectable profession!’
There was no point going into that; she was after something else. ‘What was his subject?’
‘Physics and maths.’
Theo’s strong suits too... Perhaps he owed his intellect to his father, which was a sort of positive. It was worth a try. ‘So he took you to the planetarium when you were six...and now you have your own observatory.’
He smiled faintly, then his mouth became a line. He released her hand, went to stand at the side of the canal. She gave him a moment then followed. ‘Did I say something wrong?’
‘No.’ He shot her a glance and moistened his lips. ‘I’m sorry.’ He hooked an arm around her shoulders, kissed her hair. ‘It’s just that, when it comes to my father, there’s no right thing to say.’ He sighed, shuddered. ‘You meant well but I don’t like being reminded of the things I have in common with him.’
She stared at the water, tears thickening in her throat. This wasn’t about maths or science or astronomy... She remembered their conversation at dinner, his confession about why he didn’t drink alcohol. First his grandfather, then his father... No wonder he kept himself on a tight leash. He was frightened of himself, scared of what might be lurking within. If only he could see himself through her eyes, he’d know there was nothing to fear.
‘I’m guessing you don’t see him...’
‘No.’ He turned, held her gaze. ‘He’s dead.’
What to say...? ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m not.’
She could see in his eyes that he meant it, that the conversation had run its course. She walked back to the pavement, waiting for him to come. The sun was higher now, hazy and golden. She tuned in to the clang of a distant tram, thought about the times Hal had told her things that she’d accepted without question. She’d believed him so easily; chosen to believe him because she hadn’t wanted to put a dent in what they had; hadn’t wanted to risk losing everything because she’d lost one family already. But now she knew that being scared of losing someone wasn’t a good enough reason not to ask the difficult questions. Loving someone meant loving the whole person. The bad, the good. The weaknesses as well as the strengths.
He was coming towards her, his hair close to copper in the slanting sunlight. If he was ashamed of his father, feared his father’s legacy, it was understandable. But his father was dead, and it seemed that his death hadn’t brought Theo any closure. Something else was keeping the wound open, and she had to find out what that was. It would mean more difficult questions, but she’d bide her time. Bombarding him wasn’t the way.
‘Hey.’ He tugged her close, concern etched on his face. ‘Are you okay?’
She nodded. ‘Of course. I was just giving you your space.’
‘Thank you, but I prefer my space when you’re in it...’ He kissed the tip of her nose and pulled her even closer, his eyes darkening, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. ‘In fact, the smaller the space we’re in, the better.’
She chuckled; she couldn’t resist faking asphyxiation. ‘Okay. But breathing...is...important.’ He released her, laughing, catching her face in his hands. ‘It sounds like you might need some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation...’ And then his lips were on hers, warm, insistent, hungry. His need was a hot wire, drawi
ng a rush of heat through her that made her forget where she was. She slid her hands into his back pockets, pulled him closer. He groaned, deepened his kiss, moved his hand from her face to her waist, then lower, fingers moving under the hem of her blouse, warm and perfect.
A bell jangled. ‘Get a room!’
Startled, they broke apart, staring after the kid who was speeding off into the distance. Theo grinned, reached for her hand and pulled her on. ‘I think he’s right. When we get to yours, I want you to show me your private cabin...’
Her stomach dipped. ‘You’re insatiable!’
‘And whose fault is that?’
That gaze, turning her insides to liquid. She felt a blush coming. ‘I feel embarrassed, being reprimanded by a teenager.’
‘I don’t.’ He grinned. ‘I feel young.’
‘You are young!’ A chuckle rose in her throat. ‘Youngish, anyway.’
His eyes flashed with mischief. ‘Youngish!’ And then he was on her again, fingers probing her ribs, finding her ticklish spots.
‘No! Please... Theo, no, no, no!’ She tried to jerk away, but his hold on her was tight. He was laughing, enjoying himself, tickling her mercilessly. ‘Please stop... I take it back. You’re very young.’
He released her, breathing hard. ‘Not very young. I’m thirty-three, but youthful, I hope!’ He ran a hand through his hair, arching his eyebrows. ‘Dare I ask...?’
‘Twenty-seven.’
‘That’s very young.’ He draped an arm around her shoulders, moving her on.
She watched his feet on the path, the way he was adjusting his stride to hers. ‘It’s funny; I’ve never really felt young. I’ve always felt like a grown-up.’
‘Me too.’ He touched his head to hers, kissing her hair. She read the gesture, heard what he wasn’t saying out loud: that their experiences had robbed them of their childhoods, had given them old heads on young shoulders. She slid her arm around his waist and gave him a hug. Instantly, she felt an answering squeeze and then he shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s why I got into astronomy. When I was a kid, the night sky felt like a place I could let my imagination run free... Now, I love the science of it all: the expanding universe, the Big Bang... It’s fascinating.’