‘Don’t think so.’ Rafe was collecting the larger pieces, picking them up gingerly between his finger and thumb.
‘Well, you will do...’ She huffed at him and sat up. ‘Don’t do that; I’ll get a dustpan and brush.’
She stumbled into the kitchen, blinking when she switched the light on. On an afterthought, she collected up the brandy bottle and a couple more glasses from the cupboard on her way out.
‘Have you taken to drink?’ he teased.
‘No, of course not.’ That smile would drive her to drink if she wasn’t careful. Or something far more dangerous.
‘Watch out...’ He frowned, and Mimi realised that she was about to tread on a piece of glass in just her socks. ‘Sit down, I’ll do it.’
He knelt down, collecting up the glass and brushing the shards out of the carpet, then disappeared for a moment to empty the dustpan into the bin. Mimi picked up the bottle of brandy, pouring a large measure into each glass. Tomorrow was the last of her days off, and so tonight might be the last opportunity she had of talking to Rafe. She had to make it count.
* * *
‘I’ve been thinking about what you said.’ She came right out with it as soon as he walked back into the sitting room, as if waiting might chip away at her resolve. That was typically Mimi and it had always made him smile.
‘Okay.’ He sat down beside her. ‘What have you been thinking?’
‘I think that I owe you an apology.’
She’d tried to apologise about something that afternoon, after he’d carried her across to the farmhouse, and Rafe had brushed it off. He was as mystified now as he’d been then.
‘You have nothing to apologise for.’
She shook her head, brushing his objections away. ‘You pushed me away, Rafe. That was your fault. But I was too afraid to ask why. I never tried to stop you from going.’
Rafe shook his head dumbly.
‘And that must have looked a lot like a rejection to you.’
Emotion blocked his throat. The way it always had, and probably always would. Rafe took a sip of the brandy. ‘Yeah. It did. But it doesn’t matter... What I really want to know is why?’
She looked at him blankly. ‘Why what?’
‘Whatever gave you the idea that you weren’t good enough?’ She began to frown and Rafe stuck to his guns. ‘I really need you to tell me.’
She took a mouthful of brandy. ‘Okay. If you must know. The guy I went out with before you... After that friend of Charlie’s...’
‘The one you never used to talk about?’
‘Yeah. Graham. He cheated on me. When I found out and confronted him, he said that he couldn’t help it. He had a whole list of things I did wrong...’
‘What? What things?’ Maybe he shouldn’t ask. But he couldn’t believe that any of them were justified.
She turned to him, mortification sparking in her beautiful eyes. ‘He said that I was boring. And that he couldn’t help doing what he did because this other woman was dynamite in bed. Is that what you want to hear?’
Rafe stared at her. ‘He said... Are you serious?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘No, I joke about that kind of thing all of the time. Of course I’m serious.’
‘It’s rubbish. He’s an idiot.’ Rafe reached for her and she pushed him away.
‘Don’t. Just...don’t.’
He couldn’t believe that she could have taken something that was so obviously a cruel jibe to heart. Mimi was the most exciting woman he’d ever known, both in and out of bed, and this guy had to be certifiably insane. But she’d listened to him, and it had worked into her system like poison.
‘Didn’t I make you feel good enough?’ Rafe knew the answer to that as soon as he’d asked the question. When she didn’t answer, it confirmed everything. He’d never confided in her, and then he’d left, without giving any proper reason. He’d done nothing to repair the damage that had already been done.
She shook her head. ‘It’s... It doesn’t matter.’
It did matter. Nothing he could say was going to make her believe how completely wrong all this was. Only one thing would do. Rafe leaned forward and kissed her.
She gave a little squeak of surprise and then she kissed him back. It was a proper kiss, not the brushing of lips against skin which hardly knew how to respond because it was all so brief.
They were both breathless, holding the kiss for so long that Rafe felt almost giddy. He pulled her close in a sharp, strong motion and she gasped. Then she climbed on top of him, sitting on his lap, her legs folded on either side of his thighs.
This time he would tell her how irresistibly beautiful she was, how much she meant to him in every way. He’d make her understand...
She nuzzled against his neck and he felt her lips move against his ear. ‘What’s your number, Rafe?’
‘You have it, don’t you? Why...you want to call me?’ Maybe this was some kind of complicated telephone sex game that Mimi had dreamed up. He couldn’t help wishing it might be.
‘No, idiot. How many girlfriends? Proper ones.’ She nipped at his ear with her teeth and his whole body jerked with desire.
He knew just what she was asking. She didn’t care about the ones who came before they’d lived together. Since then... He wanted to know who she’d been with since then too.
‘Six. That’s my number. And there’s been no one since you...’ Rafe decided that full disclosure was his only option. Her body was too close to his for anything else. ‘No one serious, that is. I’ve asked women to dinner or the theatre but that’s all. The odd barbecue...’
She silenced him with a kiss. One that told him, without any doubt at all, that barbecues didn’t count and six was the right answer.
‘Three,’ she whispered into his ear and he felt uncertainty tear at him. Two before him; he knew that. Maybe someone had helped her move the furniture and repaint the walls. ‘Including you.’
An instinctive warmth spread through his whole body. No one since him. Rafe swallowed hard.
‘And this tells us something?’
‘I just wanted to know. Didn’t you?’
‘Yeah.’
She grabbed his wrists, forcing them back on to the cushions behind him. Then she kissed him again, somehow managing to tease and take both at the same time.
The anger, the new self-confidence which had been the source of so many arguments in the last few days, had translated into the physical. He’d always tried to be a considerate lover, and he knew that he could take them both into a state of dizzy satisfaction. But she didn’t want that this time. She was going to take them there.
A sharp jolt of arousal spun through his veins. He stretched his legs out in front of him, longing for her to play out the fantasy.
She stilled suddenly, her lips a hair’s breadth from his. ‘Say my name. The way you used to.’
He knew just what she wanted. Rather than call her Miriam all the time, he’d simply stopped calling her anything. ‘Mimi. Beautiful Mimi.’ He felt his lips brush hers as he said the words.
‘I want to know...’ She was dropping kisses on his cheek, working her way across to his ear. ‘I want to know how far I can take you.’
‘Then find out, honey.’ He wouldn’t beg just yet. Not while he still had the choice. He had a feeling that Mimi might be depriving him of that quite soon.
‘Be careful what you wish for.’ One hand loosed its grip from his wrist and slid down to the buckle of his jeans. Rafe closed his eyes, feeling the scintillating fumble of her fingers.
‘I know just what I’m wishing for.’ Whether or not he was going to be able to stand it was another question.
She had the button on the waistband of his jeans open now and he couldn’t wait. He just wanted to be inside her, to feel her taking him. M
aybe she’d do it here. She could do it wherever she wanted and, when she’d had her way, he was going to take her upstairs and have his. She’d be coming underneath him, breaking apart so softly, so sweetly...
She seemed to know how much he wanted her. Her fingers trailed up his chest, finding their way to his face. ‘You like this?’
‘What do you think?’
‘I think you do.’ She kissed him again. He could taste the brandy on her mouth...
Brandy.
He didn’t want to think about this right now, but the question cut through all of the sensations that were radiating from her touch. How much had she had? He couldn’t remember, but he knew that she’d poured herself a large measure and that she’d been drinking while they were talking. Maybe it didn’t matter...
It mattered. They’d had drunk sex before. Tired sex, no-time-for-it sex, practically every kind of sex in the book. But that was when they were living together.
And yet simply turning away from her now was unthinkable. Hadn’t she just admitted to being the victim of one of the cruellest taunts possible, and hadn’t he just told her that it wasn’t true. If he remembered rightly, he’d kissed her to prove his point.
Okay. He could do this. He was quivering with molten desire, and Mimi was moving against him, but he could do it.
‘Mimi. Wait... Wait...’ He put as much gravitas into the words as he could muster.
‘Rafe...?’ Suddenly she was still, a look of uncertainty on her face. The realisation that this wasn’t going to happen now, that he couldn’t let it happen, almost broke him.
He cupped her face in his hand. ‘How much have you had to drink, honey?’
Rafe felt her cheek burn hot under his fingers. Clearly she wasn’t going to tell him, which wasn’t a very good sign.
‘Is this your idea of being...chivalrous?’ She made the word sound as if chivalry was a deadly sin. Rafe dismissed the notion that if she could pronounce chivalrous she couldn’t be that drunk.
‘Would you get into a car right now?’
She shook her head. ‘Probably not. But you never used to breathalyse me before taking me to bed. What’s so different now?’ Her body started moving against his. That sensual rhythm of hers that Rafe couldn’t resist.
‘The difference is that we’ve not been together for five years. If we really want to do this, then we need to make that decision with clear heads and in the cold light of day.’
‘We won’t, though, will we?’ She was still again.
Loss seared through him. They both knew that this couldn’t work. The only way he would ever get to touch her again was in a moment of madness like this one.
In that case he’d never get to touch her again. Rafe was not going to be the guy who took advantage of her when he knew that she’d had a few drinks. ‘No. We probably won’t.’
She nodded and climbed off him, getting to her feet and marching out of the door. ‘You know, at this moment I could really slap you, Rafe.’ She threw the words over her shoulder.
‘You’d be doing me a favour...’ He leaned back, covering his face with his hands. If she knocked his head off it would at least take his mind off his aching groin.
He heard her stomp upstairs, and then back down again. ‘Don’t even think about driving tonight; you’ve been drinking too. You can sleep on the sofa; it’s a lot more comfortable than at the hospital.’ Her voice was matter-of-fact, brooking no argument. ‘And lock the door.’
He looked at her between his fingers. ‘We don’t need...’ Maybe they did. He hadn’t got around to thinking about what he’d just missed out on yet.
She dropped the duvet that was in her arms on to the floor. ‘Lock the door. And, in case you’re thinking about changing your mind, I’m locking mine too.’ She turned, slamming the door closed behind her so hard that the key rattled.
He got to his feet, twisting the key in the lock, wondering if he should swallow it or throw it out of the window just to be on the safe side. Even when she was angry and he didn’t much feel like it, Mimi still made him smile. He threw himself down on to the sofa, tipping half the brandy left in his glass away into Mimi’s empty one and settled down to brood over the rest.
* * *
Mimi heard the click of the key turning in the lock. Almost overbalancing as she tiptoed back across the hallway, she sank silently to the floor outside the door, pressing her cheek against it. She wasn’t used to drinking more than the odd glass of wine with a meal, and when she closed her eyes she felt dizzy. Perhaps she was a bit tipsy...
You started it, Rafe. She mouthed the words into the cool darkness. Maybe he had, but she hadn’t exactly beaten him off. She’d been so turned on, and he’d been... She knew that he’d loved it too.
And in the morning a headache would have been the least of her worries. Mimi brushed her fingers lightly over the wood panelling of the door.
‘Thank you.’ She knew he wouldn’t hear the whispered words. Slowly she got to her feet, her socks muffling the sound of her footsteps across the wooden floor in the hall. Then she climbed the stairs and fell fully clothed on to her bed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
RAFE OPENED HIS eyes and closed them again. Sunlight was spilling into the living room, and he felt as if he’d lost the use of his arms. When he tried to move, he realised that he was rolled tightly in the duvet.
Disentangling himself, he sat up. He was going to have to face Mimi. Somehow that seemed just as difficult as if he’d slept with her. But at least he could make sure he wasn’t going to have to do it naked.
He picked his jeans up from the floor and stretched his cramped limbs. Unlocked the door, and then walked towards the sounds of activity coming from the kitchen.
She looked up from the coffee machine. ‘You’re up early.’
Rafe looked at his watch, frowning at the sixpence, which had clearly been falling down on the job lately. Seven o’clock. If he’d realised, he probably would have stayed put on the sofa for another half hour.
‘Coffee?’
‘Yeah. Thanks.’ He eyed her suspiciously. She looked as bright as a daisy. Maybe he’d overestimated how much she’d had to drink last night. ‘Do you have a headache?’
‘No. I haven’t got a headache.’ She reached into the cupboard for a second mug, putting it on to the counter top with a clatter, as if to prove her point.
‘Good.’ Rafe sat down at the kitchen table and waited. This probably wasn’t the time to tell her that it didn’t matter if she was angry with him. Anger, any kind of emotion, in fact, was better than the way they’d parted the last time. And he was suddenly under no illusions. This was another parting.
She walked across to the table, setting a mug of coffee in front of him and sitting down. ‘Last night...’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ The words sprang to his lips by instinct and then he shook his head. ‘Actually, it does.’
She took a deep breath. ‘You were right, last night, and I’m sorry. I was crazy to even contemplate...’
‘I contemplated it too. And it would have been a mistake, for both of us.’
He wanted to tell her that he had loved her, and that maybe he still did, but that was no use because she deserved a lot more than Rafe knew how to give. She deserved someone who could share his feelings openly, who could heal her wounds and make her see herself as Rafe saw her. Beautiful, funny, talented... That was the kind of list that she deserved.
Her gaze met his, and he realised that he wasn’t going to say any of those things. He didn’t trust himself, not after he’d so nearly made the wrong decision last night. It was better to just leave it.
She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. ‘Then we’re done?’
‘Are you okay about that?’ There was nothing else left to say.
She ignored the
question, getting to her feet in a sudden burst of energy. ‘Why don’t you go and take a shower? I’ll make some breakfast.’
It was an undisguised invitation to leave her alone for a while. Rafe needed that time too. As he stood in the shower, wondering whether being able to cry about it would make things any better, it occurred to him that this was the final confirmation that they’d made the right choice. Mimi was downstairs in the kitchen, probably crying into her coffee. And yet going to her was unthinkable, just as he knew that she wouldn’t come to him. When neither of them could even do that, the best they could hope for was a civilised parting and a little closure.
* * *
Last night’s rain had brought another round of injuries with it. Cuts, sprains, a dislocated finger, and a broken arm where a man had fallen out of a tree, trying to rescue a cat. At lunchtime they took advantage of a sudden lull in the stream of calls and parked up by the side of the road where groups of men were digging ditches, using the earth from them to make a barricade to contain the river on this side and protect the village which lay half a mile away.
Mimi watched as Rafe strode over to the men to speak to them. She didn’t join him. It was better to let go a little now, before she had to do it for good this evening, and she was grateful for this opportunity to just relax back into her seat and close her eyes.
Last night had been a turning point. They’d come so close and then drawn back, acknowledging that sleeping together would be a huge mistake. She’d known it, but saying it made it real. She had to say goodbye to the fantasy that they might somehow pick up where they’d left off five years ago, and deal with the reality. She repeated the mantra that she’d developed over the morning. She and Rafe were no good for each other. He would break her heart just as surely now as he had then.
Someone knocked on the car window and she opened her eyes. One of the men who had been digging was standing there, his clothes spattered with mud and rain, his face creased in a smile. Mimi rolled the window down.
‘Come and eat your lunch with me, miss.’ He jerked his head towards a tarpaulin, strung beneath the branches of a tree.
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