by Anne Mather
When his hands came to cradle her neck, hers slipped beneath his sweater, finding the warm curve of his spine. His skin, smooth and warm, seemed to welcome her caress, and the sound he made against her mouth convinced her that this time she was doing something right.
Meanwhile, his kiss was melting any remaining inhibitions. It hardly seemed possible that just a few minutes ago she had been despairing of the emptiness of her life. His tongue, his lips, the sensual pressure she could feel against her stomach were pouring heat and colour into her soul. She felt dazed; enchanted; blessed; granted the second chance she’d never dreamed might be hers.
‘I was scared, you know,’ he muttered, releasing her mouth to seek the scented hollow of her throat. ‘All the way over on the plane, I kept telling myself I was taking one hell of a chance, that I had no real proof that you wanted to see me, that you might not simply have wanted to talk...’
‘To talk?’ Laura’s voice was scratchy. ‘What about?’
‘You tell me.’ Oliver’s hands curved over her shoulders, sliding the straps of her dungarees aside. The cropped top she was wearing underneath exposed a satisfying width of her midriff, and she felt the loose denim sliding down her legs. ‘How about Natalie?’ he suggested, his breathing unmistakably quickening. ‘Do you need me to tell you that from the minute I saw you again there was no room in my life for anyone else?’
Laura’s nod was shaky. ‘Yes,’ she said definitely. ‘Yes, I need you to tell me that.’
‘Okay.’ Oliver’s fingers insinuated themselves into the top of her bikini briefs. ‘So I’ve told you.’ He caught his breath as his hands cupped her bare bottom. ‘Anything else?’
Laura trembled. ‘Did—did you mean what you said that night at Penmadoc?’
Oliver groaned. ‘Yes, I meant it,’ he muttered, parting his legs to bring her even closer against him. ‘I meant everything I’ve ever said to you, baby. I love you. I guess I always have. I was just too stupid to do anything about it before now.’
For the first time, Laura appreciated the advantage of her bed being just at the other side of the loft. A colonial four-poster, it was easily big enough to accommodate Oliver’s greater length, and after he’d deposited her on the rose satin coverlet she took great pleasure in watching him strip off his clothes.
It had been almost fifteen years since they’d first made love, but Oliver had hardly changed at all, she thought, hugging herself. He was still strong and muscular, and if the years had added maturity that was only to be expected. His chest was broader than she remembered, perhaps, and his stomach was flatter, but the powerful thickness of his manhood still rose proudly from its nest of coarse dark hair.
She’d watched him that day at the hotel, of course. But then she’d believed his only intention was to humiliate her, and that was why she’d done her best to humiliate him. She hadn’t succeeded. She’d only succeeded in embarrassing herself; in proving once and for all that where Oliver was concerned she had no real resistance at all.
‘Hey.’ Oliver saw her watching him. ‘Am I the only one getting naked around here?’
Laura caught her breath. ‘No,’ she conceded, using her crossed arms to haul her cotton top over her head. But when it came to loosening her bra her hands stilled.
‘Don’t be shy with me,’ he said gently, coming down on to the bed beside her and moving her hands aside. With enviable skill, he released the front fastening of the lacy garment, and then sucked in a breath. ‘There: that’s better.’
Laura’s face flamed with colour as he bore her back against the pillows, and panic, plain and simple, made her tremble as if this were her first time. And it was, in a way, she thought unsteadily, as his fingers hooked the hem of her briefs and tugged them off. Her experiences with Conor had hardly been earth-shattering, and towards the end of their marriage they’d barely spoken, let alone anything else.
She was half afraid she wouldn’t know what to do, what to say, how to please him, but she needn’t have worried. With Oliver, everything had always been instinctive somehow, and his hands and lips made a nonsense of her fears. With only a touch, he was able to arouse her deepest needs, her deepest feelings, and she gave up worrying about anything but the pleasure he was so effortlessly bestowing.
His hands skimmed her breasts, teasing the taut peaks with his palms, before replacing one of his hands with his tongue. He rolled the swollen nipple between his tongue and his teeth, and then dragged it into his mouth to suckle on the tip.
Both breasts received this sensuous attention before he trailed kisses over her stomach and midriff, exploring the dark hollow of her navel, nudging the red-gold curls that hid her femininity. One long finger discovered her moist readiness, and although she didn’t want to expose her eagerness she couldn’t help arching up against that sensual invasion.
‘Oh, baby,’ he said thickly, ‘me, too.’ And, easing himself between her splayed legs, he joined his body to hers.
‘God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,’ he added as she reached for him. ‘How much I’ve wanted to be buried deep inside you, so deep that we don’t know where you end and I begin.’
‘I love you, Oliver,’ she breathed, her chest constricted by the ache of emotion that seemed to be filling her. ‘Oh, Oliver, I love you so much.’
Some time later, Laura opened her eyes, to find Oliver propped on one elbow beside her, watching her. For a moment, she was too embarrassed to say anything, and, as if sensing her confusion, Oliver bent his head to kiss her lips.
‘Mmm, you taste as sweet as you look—and I should know,’ he murmured, reminding her that he hadn’t been satisfied with making love with her just once. There’d been a second time, when he’d brought her to the brink of fulfilment with his tongue, before his own needs had demanded a fuller demonstration of his love for her.
‘You shouldn’t say things like that,’ she said now, her cheeks brimming with becoming colour. ‘Isn’t it enough that you’ve reduced me to a trembling supplicant at your hands?’
‘Well, hell, lady, join the club,’ he teased her softly. ‘And I reckon I’ve earned the right to tell you I love you any way I choose, don’t you?’
Laura pressed her lips together. ‘I—I suppose so.’
‘You suppose so?’
‘All right.’ She dimpled. ‘All right, yes. So long as I can do the same.’
‘Hey, you can say what you like to me,’ he assured her. ‘So long as you’re prepared to take the consequences.’
‘What consequences?’
A trailing hand cupped her breast. ‘Do you want me to show you?’
‘I—no.’ With some regret, Laura declined. ‘I—I think we should talk about the consequences of—of what—this means first.’
Oliver sighed. ‘You mean us?’ He gave her a wary look. ‘I should have thought that was obvious.’
‘Is it?’ Laura was nervous.
‘I hope so.’ His eyes darkened. ‘I assumed—I hoped—it meant that we were going to be together from now on. I mean,’ he hastened on, ‘I’m not suggesting you should give up your life here if that’s what you want. I’m quite prepared to relocate, if that would please you.’
‘Please me?’ Laura felt the tears sliding down her cheeks but she couldn’t help it. ‘You please me,’ she said, lifting her hand to cup his face. ‘So—so very much.’
Oliver’s eyes softened. ‘Well, then—’
‘There are other—other things we have to talk about.’
‘What other things?’ He closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Oh, you mean the baby.’ He groaned. ‘Dear God, if I’d known—’
‘I don’t mean the baby,’ she told him softly. ‘Losing it was terrible, but, believe me, it was nothing compared to losing you.’
‘Oh, sweetheart—’
‘No, let me finish. I want you to know I don’t blame you for anything any more. We were both too young, I realise that now. In that, at least, your mother was right—’
�
�My mother—’
‘Yes, your mother,’ agreed Laura huskily. ‘She’s not going to be pleased about—about us.’
‘And that worries you?’
Laura nodded. ‘A little.’
‘Well, don’t let it.’ Oliver drew her closer. ‘If and when my mother decides she has anything more to say to me, she’ll say it in my time, not hers, and she knows that.’ He paused. ‘She and I have come to an understanding since you left Penmadoc. She doesn’t interfere in my life and I don’t interfere in hers.’ His lips twisted. ‘Of course, she was sure you would never speak to me again, and until Thomas rang me in Spain and told me about your call I’m afraid I was inclined to believe her.’
‘Oh, Oliver...’
She reached up and bestowed a warm kiss at the corner of his mouth and he pulled a wry face. ‘It’s true. I guess I’ve been as guilty of listening to her lies as anyone. But, I have to admit, in this instance, I thought she’d got it right.’
‘How could you think that?’
Laura was appalled, and Oliver hastened to explain. ‘I was sure you’d try to see me again before you left for the States. This assignment I was on in Spain is already way behind schedule because I hung about for so long, waiting for you to contact me.’
‘But you left Penmadoc,’ protested Laura. ‘As soon as you’d arranged things with Mr Venning, you cleared off back to London. To Natalie, I assumed. Why else?’
‘Try imagining how I was feeling,’ Oliver said simply. ‘Between us—my mother and I—we’d really mucked up your life. I was sure you’d never believe anything I had to say again.’
Laura shook her head. ‘And I thought you were only using me to prove to yourself that I’d never got over you.’
‘I wish.’
‘Do you?’ She looked up at him with guarded eyes.
‘That you’d never got over me?’ said Oliver ruefully. ‘Of course I do. I’m only human.’
Laura caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘I wish I’d known.’
‘Why?’ He gazed intently at her. ‘I thought you hated me—for a while, at least.’
‘I never hated you,’ said Laura honestly. ‘I resented you; I resented the way you could hurt me. But I never hated you.’
Oliver frowned. ‘But when you married Neill—’
‘I should never have married Conor.’ She sighed. ‘I knew that when you came home for the wedding. I guess I was hoping I could get you out from under my skin. Trying to prove to myself that I didn’t care you’d made a success of your life without me.’
‘Hey...’ Oliver’s knuckles brushed the dampness from her cheeks. ‘Being good at what I do doesn’t mean I’ve made a success of my life.’ He grimaced. ‘These last few months I’ve realised that I’ve spent all these years searching for something I had and lost. You. Everything else is unimportant.’
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘Don’t I?’ His thumb skimmed her breast. ‘Well, I suppose I am proud of some of my work, but it means very little if you’ve no one to share it with.’ He nuzzled her throat. ‘I want to share it with you, Laura. Only you.’ He drew back to look at her. ‘Will you marry me?’
‘Marry you?’ Laura’s lips parted. ‘Oh, Oliver—’
‘No, wait.’ He seemed to think she was about to refuse, and he hurried on, ‘I know your job’s important to you—
‘Oliver—’
‘—and, as I said before, if you’d prefer to stay in New York, I’m quite prepared to live here.’
‘Oliver, listen to me—’
‘I don’t know how Thomas will take it, of course. But we can face that hurdle when we come to it. So long as we’re together—’
‘Yes, so long as we’re together,’ broke in Laura breathlessly. ‘Darling Oliver, of course I’ll marry you, and I’ll live any place you like.’
He looked stunned. ‘You will?’ he exclaimed, and then pulled her into his arms and buried his mouth on hers. Hot passion flared between them once again, but on this occasion he tried to keep his head. ‘And—and your work?’
‘I’ve thought about it,’ admitted Laura softly. ‘I’ve already discussed working at home with Conor’s uncle Matt because I fully intended to return to my roots one day. I had thought I’d stay with Aunt Nell at Penmadoc, but I’d much prefer to stay in London with you.’ She smiled. ‘We could even keep this place as an extra studio. It might be nice to come here sometimes and remember tonight.’
‘You mean it?’
Oliver was delighted and Laura wound her arms around his neck. ‘Well, one day we might go back to Penmadoc. I want to have your baby, and the air there is much better than in the town.’
‘As long as we’re together,’ he echoed softly. ‘I never want to risk losing you again.’