The pulse of Victoria’s heart was so strong it was beating in her neck. Confessions were either going to spill from her like rice from a split packet, or she was going to vow to herself never to tell Chris what she knew.
‘The thing is,’ Chris continued, ‘Tommy found out, and because of the nature of the secret, he demanded to know why he wasn’t informed. It’s why he went away, and I imagine it’s why he returned with that stupid machine. But he told me … No, he never actually said, but he intimated that he and Lacey had something more than friendship. He said he loved her, and that he took infinite pleasure in having something he knew I wanted. I let it go, but with seeing Lacey, I’m wondering if I knew all along. Maybe I’d seen something between them, a glance, a knowing look, a smile, something, but hid from the truth. Now he’s saying that when Rick knows everything, he’ll want to go back to America with him, and—’
It was too much for Victoria to take in, and she waved a hand in the air. ‘Slow down. You’re talking too fast.’ Still undecided as to whether or not to come clean, she fidgeted, finally settling with one leg tucked beneath her. ‘What is it Rick should know?’
Chris bowed his head, the stance of a defeated man. ‘Lacey was HIV-positive.’ He looked at Victoria, and frowned. ‘You don’t seem shocked.’
‘No?’
Chris’s glare was so intense, so demanding, it would have been easy to cave. Victoria could get her secret out in the open, and absolve her conscience. She’d be free from the guilt. Free to tell him about EweSpeak, how she’d followed his career, and how she’d dreamed of him every night. She’d have nothing to hide. She would be exposed. And Chris? He’d be mortified, outraged, and humiliated. He considered her safe. That’s what he’d said. She’d thought it an interesting word at the time. A telling word. And she was all he had right now. She was the one person he trusted, and in order to keep his trust, she had to keep her secret. She had to lie to him. There was nothing logical in her argument, but it made complete sense.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m trying to grasp everything. Go on.’
He nodded, placated by her reply. ‘When I first met Lacey she worked in the adult film business. She’d put a stop to her acting career at that point, and was trying her hand at casting. She told me later it was because she was waiting for her test results to come back, although she’d led the studio to believe she was keen to diversify. When the test came back positive, she broke down in the middle of a shoot she was overseeing. She was terrified she was going to die. Guilty for not telling me before we slept together. Petrified she’d already passed it to me. She hadn’t,’ he added, quickly. ‘We were careful, you know? Right from day one. But I still got checked out. To be certain. We didn’t really understand. We weren’t so well informed in those days, and people were ignorant. Cruel.’ He paused and rubbed his eyes. ‘She insisted we hid it from everyone, apart from the owner of the studio. She said he needed to know, and he needed to take responsibility for allowing an infected actor through the screening process. He offered an insulting amount to pay her off, which she refused, but she chose not to sue. Instead she asked him to destroy her files and never link her name to the industry. She relied on the studio never going public on the basis it would have destroyed their reputation.’
‘You must have been sick with worry.’ Victoria gave a gentle shake of her head. What a horrendous way to start a life together.
Chris agreed. ‘We were young, frightened, and had no one to turn to. We thought we were doing the best thing. If she’d sued it would’ve hit the newsstands big time, and she didn’t want that. She wanted anonymity. Distance. Time.’ He returned to the window, yanked it shut, and remained facing away. ‘And she wanted me to leave her.’
Victoria was lost for words. She’d never thought about the impact Lacey’s condition had on Chris’s emotional life. It was hitting home now, though.
‘I didn’t want to leave.’ Chris’s voice was deadened by the glass. ‘I loved her, and I knew she loved me. She didn’t want her mistakes to be my undoing. She wanted me to pursue my career without fear of reprisals. I was in a dangerous business, where accidents happened. Blood got spilt. She said if people were aware I lived with a HIV victim, they wouldn’t touch me with a bargepole. She said my career would be over before it had begun, and with whatever life she had left, she didn’t want to live it knowing she’d ended mine.’
‘But you loved her and you chose to stay.’ It wasn’t meant as a criticism, or a reflection of what happened between Victoria and Chris; Chris had learned from experience, and was deciding his own fate.
‘Yeah. I grew up,’ he said. ‘I made a few enquiries, adopted a pseudonym for Lacey, and found a great doctor, who was paid well for his discretion.’
He wasn’t that discreet, Victoria thought. His error of judgement had left her pockets empty for some time.
‘We married, and learned to manage the condition. And after a lot of soul-searching, we decided it was too risky to have children of our own. But Lacey found this article in a magazine. It proved that with the right treatment it was possible to have a healthy baby. We got lucky with the IVF and had two.’ A transient smile passed across his mouth. ‘She never wanted the boys to know, certainly not about her movie career. And now Tommy, for God knows what reason, has threatened to tell Rick everything. You can bet your bottom dollar he’ll put a filthy spin on it. He’ll make it dirty and lewd, and suggest I didn’t protect Lacey. He’ll paint me as a demon.’
Victoria shunted to the other side of the bed so she too was facing the outside world. Chris was leaning on the windowsill, his shoulders curved, his head pressed against the pane.
‘He already has.’ Victoria saw Chris’s back rise and fall.
‘What’s he said?’
‘That you bragged about having sex with me on the beach.’
There was more of a kick to his breath this time, but he continued to stare in the direction of the gardens.
‘You know I wouldn’t do that, don’t you?’
‘I’m surprised he knew,’ Victoria said. ‘It upset me that you’d spoken about it, whatever the reason.’
‘Okay. I told him,’ Chris said, turning round. ‘But it wasn’t a brag.’ He spread his arms along the sill, in the same manner as when he’d sat on the kerb outside the cottages.
It was an open gesture. Inviting. Victoria watched his mouth, mesmerised by the way he formed his words, wondering if his lips were as soft and warm as they used to be, when a kiss from him carried her to nirvana. She admonished herself for the inappropriate thought and lifted her eyes to his; the trouble was, they were telling a different story to his words.
What she heard was, ‘We were two, young British lads in a foreign country. We spent a lot of time together and we talked. I had to get you out of my system.’
What she saw was his molten eyes pouring over her, and if she was reading him correctly, she was responsible for the magma flowing through his blood. The revelation set her insides alight; her nerve endings detonated, and fire blazed along every fibre.
Chris stepped away from the sill, guided Victoria up by her elbow, and drew her to him. ‘Have you any idea what you did to me?’
‘Have you any idea what you’re doing to me now?’ Victoria averted her eyes and concentrated on freezing the lava scorching her body. How did they get to this point? Two minutes ago they were talking about how much Chris loved Lacey.
It was those red-hot lips of his, drawing confessions from her.
‘You feel it too?’ He let out a long, deep breath.
She hadn’t misinterpreted his look. She stood rigid, not daring to move, thinking that if she retreated, he’d let go, and she wasn’t ready for that. If she moved closer, she was in danger of fanning flames she couldn’t extinguish.
‘I thought it was me, clinging on to the past.’ Chris murmure
d the words into Victoria’s hair, the vibration sending a tremor through her core.
This was the moment she’d imagined a thousand times. More. But in her fantasies, they were young lovers, freethinkers, unscathed by life’s battles. Now they sported scars of the flesh and mind; would they withstand the ravages of an inferno?
‘I keep remembering how we were,’ he said, easing her into him and enveloping her in his arms.
The power of his hold shocked Victoria. He was nothing like the slight, bony teenager she remembered. As an adult, he was firm, broad, and muscular. A flurry of anticipation fluttered through her. If his kisses sent her to delirium back then, where would they take her now?
She held her breath and listened to his. On the surface, he was in control, maintaining a rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The only clue she had to what was going on inside his head came from the transmission of tiny trembles through his fingertips. She raised her hands to his solid pecs and pushed back far enough to risk a look. ‘Are you okay with this?’
He had his eyes closed, but he nodded. Then he pulled Victoria’s head into the crook of his neck. ‘I know why I overreacted when you put your arm around me.’
She brushed her fingers along his cheekbone. Exposure to sun, sweat and shaving had given his skin a rougher quality. ‘You told me. It was because I ruined Lacey’s imprint.’
Opening his eyes, Chris reached up, took her hand and entwined it in his. ‘I was wrong. I thought that was the reason, but it wasn’t. It reminded me how much I miss touch. Giving and receiving. To hold and be held. I don’t even get to hug Rick, he’s so insular.’ He paused, removed his arm from around her, and tipped her chin up. ‘Yes. I’m okay with this.’
Their mouths were inches apart. Was it too much to hope he would go further than an embrace? Her question was answered, as her hand was released and he cupped her face in his palms.
‘Everything about you is familiar,’ he said, skimming his thumbs over her lips. ‘Yet it’s as if I’m holding you for the first time.’
She understood. It was the same for her. The way he studied her face, his lightness of touch, and his impulse to act first were how she remembered him, but his body was that of a man’s, and his eyes were those of an old soul.
Breathless with expectation and heady in the haze of his heat, Victoria pushed up on her toes, leaned into him, and brushed his mouth with hers; not quite a kiss, but a collision of colossal proportions.
It was the coming together of the past and present.
The aftershock hit her in waves, and shame and embarrassment flooded her body. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, pulling away. ‘I shouldn’t have done that. Bad idea.’
‘Do it again,’ Chris said, seizing her waist and boosting her height with a lift. ‘And then tell me why you think it’s a bad idea.’
‘Again?’ Surprised by the request, she checked his eyes. The skin around them was more giving than in his youth, but what lay behind them was instantly recognisable; excitement, discovery, danger and a glimmer of something he’d been missing for two years; hope. She couldn’t follow through on a promise of hope. ‘It’s wrong,’ she said.
Chris lowered her so her feet were flat on the floor, and then he let his arms fall to his side. ‘Explain.’
‘Here and now, it’s the wrong place and definitely the wrong time.’ She couldn’t define why, the original reason for them being in her bedroom lost in the sexual fog. ‘I don’t want either of us to do something we’ll regret. I was caught in the moment.’ It was no wonder. She’d been celibate for years, she was in the arms of the man she’d never stopped loving, and her dreams of them together had become more explicit by the night. She tensed her stomach muscles, praying it would choke the scarlet assault threatening to invade her face.
Chris closed in. ‘You were caught in the moment?’ A warm, compassionate smile creased the corners of his eyes. ‘Then that makes this the perfect time.’
It was a compelling argument and one Victoria failed to refute. He talked such sense. She breathed out. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt.’
‘I don’t want you to get hurt, either.’ He slipped off his shoes, kicked them under the bed, and stepped behind Victoria. ‘So, we’re agreed? No one’s getting hurt.’
He lifted her hair, exposing her neck to the cool air, and traced a finger along her collarbone. As she tingled from his touch, his breath created tiny ripples of pleasure over her nape. A few of them extended to her hips, which responded with an involuntary sway.
‘Your skin’s so soft,’ Chris said, his voice losing volume, but gaining depth. ‘Womanhood suits you.’
He walked his fingers up her neck, and ran his hand through her ringlets, teasing them straight, before letting them rebound. The gentle tugging and combing motion sent cluster bombs of desire around Victoria’s body, and they exploded at her centre.
‘Victoria?’
She didn’t want the sensations to stop, but when he loosened his fingers from her hair and withdrew his touch, she turned round.
He was as aroused as her.
‘Victoria.’ The gruffness emanating from Chris’s throat surprised him; it was carnal. Hungry. It was the voice he’d muted and locked away two years ago, thinking he’d never hear it again. It was the voice convincing him it was time to embrace the future. Trust Victoria to hold the key. ‘Safe,’ he murmured, pressing his body to her. For a second, she tensed, then her shoulders relaxed, and he felt her weight lean into him. ‘What I told you, that I keep remembering,’ he said, his lips finding the line of her ear, ‘I do. I keep seeing you on the beach, and in the water, your eyes closed and your head back, giving yourself to the ocean. Do you remember?’ She whispered yes. ‘The way you let go amazed me.’ He nuzzled her lobe, and then caught it in his teeth, giving it a gentle bite.
He heard a moan of pleasure.
‘I keep seeing how you were then, and the thought stops me sleeping at night.’ He kissed the soft skin of her neck, arching his back so he could reach the hollow. It was as he recalled. It tasted of the sea. He passed over it with the tip of his tongue, and continued down until his progress was impeded by Victoria’s collar. He raised his head, and locked eyes with her. ‘I want to see how you are now.’ A pause, to give Victoria time to breathe. ‘Let me see.’
She bowed her head, and looked at him from under her brow. ‘Okay.’
He slid his palms from her ribs to her hips, scoring his fingers along the bottom edge of her sweater, which he slipped over her head and dropped on the floor. He was shaking – not enough for Victoria to notice, but enough for him to stop, step back, and allow himself to settle. He couldn’t risk transmitting his nerves to her; she could misread them as anxiety, which was as far from the truth as heaven was from hell. It was obvious from everything she’d said that she had demons of her own to battle, but right now she was responsive and at ease, and he wanted to go with that.
He regarded her. Her black bra was in stark contrast to her pale skin, and with no jumper, her concave figure was accentuated where her jeans met her waist. He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops at the front, and rested his fingers along the ridge of the waistband. ‘You’re more beautiful than I remember,’ he said. ‘Let me see all of you.’
He swallowed as she unfastened her top button, undid her zip, and directed his hands down, driving her jeans over her thighs. He knelt, removed her shoes, and released each foot from the denim. Even her toes were exquisite. He bent lower and kissed both insteps.
‘That tickles,’ Victoria protested, but there was no weight to the complaint.
Chris kissed them again, and then rose to his full height. He took Victoria’s hands, and drew her to him. ‘You are gorgeous.’ He reached around her, unclasped her bra, and guided the straps over her arms. She closed her eyes and nodded for him to proceed. He removed it, and then smoothed his fing
ers along her back, round to her breasts, and down to her hips, where her final defence lay – a flimsy piece of black material, protecting their past, and preventing their future. ‘I won’t be able to stop,’ he said, enjoying the texture of the cool cotton against his hot skin.
‘Nor will I.’ Victoria opened her eyes. Her hips strained under his fingers. ‘Everything will change, though.’
Things had already changed. Until he ran into Victoria again, Chris’s fantasies concentrated on Lacey, the woman beyond compare. Now Victoria took centre stage. The only comparison occurring in Chris’s head was between Victoria’s eighteen-year-old virginal self and her thirty-five-year-old equivalent.
And something else was different; his fear of losing Lacey’s essence had diminished, alleviated by the realisation that touching Victoria’s breasts had not erased or blemished his memory. ‘I’m not big on the word change,’ he said, curling the top of her briefs down. ‘This is us, evolving.’ He rolled them a little further, but kept his eyes level with Victoria’s. He saw the longing there he felt sure he was displaying. It made him want her more.
His hands were replaced by hers, and she stripped herself of her last vestment. With all her barriers gone, she stepped away.
He allowed himself one last comparison, before setting Lacey aside. Unlike her, Victoria hadn’t sought him out for sex, didn’t need his permission to let go, and she wasn’t making it about her. There was no apology, and no wishing the situation was different.
‘Man.’ He slumped onto the bed, slouched forward, and put his head in his hands. Some things were the same.
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