Life's a Beach and Then... (The Liberty Sands Trilogy Book 1)

by Roberts, Julia

  ‘I think we should make a dash for the hotel. This isn’t easing up anytime soon. Your room or the restaurant?’

  Collecting her bag, book and flip flops, pulling her towel over head for shelter and gesticulating with her spare hand she said, ‘my room is closer. Come on.’

  They raced across the lawn and up the steps at the side of the building before reaching the shelter of the verandah that ran along the back of the first floor rooms providing access for the guests. Holly unlocked the door and they tumbled in like a couple of drowned rats. Until that moment Holly hadn’t given a thought as to what would happen next but looking at Philippe, drenched from head to toe, she realised it would involve removing wet clothing.

  ‘I’ll get you my bath robe,’ she said, hurrying into the bathroom.

  Philippe had followed her into the bathroom so that he didn’t create a puddle on the bedroom floor.

  ‘We’re going to need a shower,’ he said. ‘Look at the state of us.’

  Holly looked down at his legs and feet, splattered with sand and mud from running across the wet grass, and then at her own. Without raising her gaze, she asked in a trembling voice, ‘Do you want to go first?’

  ‘We could shower together if you like?’

  The question hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity to Holly before she raised her eyes to look into his.

  ‘It would save water I guess,’ she said, fully aware of the absurdity of her response as the rain pounded down on the corrugated roof above their heads, matching the pounding of her heart. She let her beach towel fall to the floor and untied the knot behind her head which had held her sarong in place. The thin wet fabric refused to fall to the bathroom floor, instead clinging to her body and revealing her erect nipples beneath her flimsy bikini.

  ‘Here let me,’ said Philippe peeling the wet fabric away from her body like the skin from an orange. ‘You’re cold,’ he said. ‘Let’s get the warm water running.’

  He gently pushed her into the shower enclosure and reached for the lever with one hand, undoing the clasp of her bikini with his other in a very practised manner. This did not escape Holly, but right at that moment she didn’t care. As the warm water started to fall from the overhead drench shower she turned to face him, nipples still standing to attention.

  ‘It has nothing to do with feeling cold,’ she whispered, barely able to speak.

  The water flowed freely over them, as did their kisses, small and exploratory to start with, then deep and passionate. Holly hadn’t felt someone else’s tongue inside her mouth for the longest time and she had forgotten the desire that this unlocked in other parts of her anatomy.

  Philippe was gentle and measured with his caresses, wanting to savour every moment of the intimacy. This didn’t feel like his many other encounters with adoring females. He wanted it to be more than just sex. He could sense her urgency but selfishly wanted the foreplay to last.

  They were both naked now, and very clean from the repeated massaging of shower gel into a foamy lather.

  Holly could hear her voice pleading, ‘No more playing, Philippe, I want you now.’

  Chapter 35

  The rain stayed for the rest of the afternoon. After making love in the shower they had an encore on the bed before falling asleep cuddled up like spoons, with the rhythmic patter of rain acting as a lullaby. Perhaps that was what woke Holly, the silence once the rain had stopped, or maybe it was the orange glow from the brooding sunset.

  She turned to face Philippe with the intention of waking him but he was already awake and staring at her admiringly. She covered her nakedness with the sheet, feeling embarrassed now that the heat of passion had subsided.

  ‘Why didn’t you wake me? We’ll be late for dinner with Rosemary and Robert,’ she said.

  ‘I’m always late anyway, so I won’t need an excuse. You on the other hand....’ his voice trailed away teasingly.

  Panic-stricken Holly looked at the clock on her bedside table. It was 7.15 p.m. She could still be on time to meet with their friends if she showered straightaway.

  She rolled off the bed taking the sheet with her, averting her gaze from Philippe’s nakedness just a moment too late to notice that he was hard again.

  ‘You need to go, Philippe. You have to go home for a shower and a change of clothes. You’ll only be a few minutes late if you leave now.’

  ‘Or I could shower here with you,’ he said. ‘I like your shower.’

  ‘And wear what to dinner,’ Holly demanded. ‘One of my dresses?’

  They both laughed.

  ‘Even I couldn’t pull that off,’ Philippe said. ‘Although I don’t mind trying if it gives me an extra twenty minutes with you.’

  ‘Out now,’ she said, pointing to the door. ‘Or do I need to phone security and tell them an intruder has broken in?’

  As she watched Philippe pull on his soaking shorts and shirt and head for the door she realised that an intruder had broken in to her heart and she fervently hoped that he felt the same towards her.

  Chapter 36

  Robert was still feeling decidedly fragile even though he had spent most of the day in bed recuperating from the excesses of the previous day. Rosemary had snuggled into the bed beside him for a cuddle shortly after she got back from lunching alone. He had asked why she hadn’t invited Holly to have lunch with her but Rosemary had dismissed his question, saying that she probably had better things to do on the last day of her holiday.

  He had finally dragged himself out of bed around 5 p.m. and sat on the covered terrace watching the rain and breathing in huge gulps of the freshness that heavy rainfall always brought. Rosemary had made them both a cup of tea and they had sat like an elderly couple from the days of the Raj in India, the only thing missing was the servants. It was so sad to think that Rosemary, his beloved Rosie, was never going to grow old.

  He turned to look at his wife now, as they sat waiting for their dinner companions in Waves restaurant. She was still a beautiful woman despite the ravages of her illness. Her eyes lit up and Robert turned to follow her gaze. On the dot of 8 p.m. Holly was being shown to their table by the waiter. She had minimal make-up on and her still damp curls were twisted up into the beautiful jewel-encrusted hair clip that she loved. She looked radiant. He rose to greet her.

  ‘My goodness, Holly, you look even more stunning than usual,’ he enthused, kissing her on each cheek.

  ‘Are you feeling better now, Robert?’

  ‘Much better thanks, but I think I’ll stick to mineral water tonight.’

  As he spoke the wine waiter, Pritesh, arrived carrying a champagne bucket with a bottle of Bollinger cooling on the ice within it. Robert started to tell the waiter that he had brought it to the wrong table but Rosemary interrupted him.

  ‘I ordered champagne, Robert, to celebrate a wonderful week with old friends and new.’

  ‘What a lovely idea, I wish I had thought of it,’ Holly said. ‘You will have one glass won’t you Robert when Philippe gets here?’

  Pritesh cleared his throat.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘The champagne is from Mr Philippe. He told me to cancel any other arrangements that may have been made for tonight. I hope this was the right thing to do?’

  Robert was puzzled. Philippe was not known for ostentatious gestures. Maybe he was celebrating something? Just then the man himself arrived at the restaurant entrance looking only slightly less groomed than usual. He accepted Rosemary’s warm hug and patted Robert on the shoulder.

  ‘I hope you’ve recovered from yesterday?’

  ‘No thanks to you,’ said Rosemary reproachfully but Philippe was too engrossed in kissing Holly’s hand while maintaining eye contact to respond.

  ‘Good job it was raining really,’ said Robert. ‘We probably wouldn’t have got up to too much anyway. It’s a shame the rain came on your last day here though Holly but hopefully you managed to amuse yourself?’

  Holly shot Philippe a warning look but it was Rosemary
that spoke.

  ‘Well it was only this afternoon really and I expect you’ve been packing.’

  Holly was grateful for the interjection but she also noticed the twinkle in Rosemary’s eye. She knows, thought Holly, picking up her menu to hide behind before a customary blush could give her away.

  Pritesh had been busying himself with the champagne cork and at that moment it popped, spewing a tiny amount of froth onto the table before he could reach for the first glass. Philippe mopped it with his napkin while Pritesh poured the sparkling liquid into the four flutes and then raised his glass.

  ‘To special friends and a special place. If only it could last forever.’

  Philippe had meant his toast to communicate how much he cared about the people around the table so he was confused by the reaction.

  Robert was acutely aware of how little time he had left with his wife and Holly was wondering if Philippe was ending any chance of a relationship before it even got started. Once again it was Rosemary who spoke.

  ‘Nothing is forever, Philippe, so let’s just enjoy tonight.’

  They chinked glasses each feeling slightly less comfortable than they had moments before.

  Fortunately good food, animated conversation and a second bottle of Bollinger helped get past the awkwardness and by the time they moved into the bar area to enjoy the evening’s entertainment they were all feeling mellow. Holly had wanted to sit by the beach but there was still a spit of rain in the air so they sat by the open side of the bar area, sheltered but still within earshot of the waves gently lapping the shore.

  There was no show featuring local dancers that evening, instead the band were playing songs from movies and encouraging the guests to dance. Rosemary was in her element performing the quickstep and tango with all the grace and passion you would expect from a former professional dancer, so much so that people applauded as ‘Por Una Cabeza’ from Scent of a Woman came to an end. The moment the first few notes of the next song began Philippe pulled Holly to her feet and said, ‘Come on let’s join them.’

  ‘But I can’t dance,’ Holly protested.

  ‘Everyone can do the waltz,’ Philippe persisted. ‘Just follow my lead.’

  Holly had drunk just enough champagne to relax in his arms without feeling self-conscious, allowing him to guide her around the dance floor while the band played ‘Moon River’. For the second time that day their bodies were in perfect harmony. Having been a reluctant dance partner initially Holly was sad when the song finished and the band leader announced they were taking a fifteen-minute break.

  The four of them made their way back to their table.

  ‘You should dance more often, Holly, you move beautifully,’ Philippe said.

  ‘I just needed reminding of the steps,’ she replied, ‘and you were an excellent teacher.’

  ‘Beautiful song “Moon River”, but I can’t place the movie,’ Robert said.

  The other three chorused, ‘Breakfast At Tiffany’s,’ and Philippe added, ‘My favourite film.’

  ‘Ours is Gone With the Wind, isn’t it, Holly,’ Rosemary said. ‘We discovered we both have the same favourite film over dinner the first night.’

  Holly wasn’t listening. Breakfast At Tiffany’s had been her dad’s favourite film too, in fact she had been named after Audrey Hepburn’s character, Holly Golightly. Her dad had told her that after her birth her mother had suffered terribly with the ‘baby blues’ and refused to give their little daughter a name. After a week of being referred to as ‘baby Wilson’, during which time he had made several suggestions, she had simply said, ‘Call her what you like. I couldn’t care less.’ Years later when Holly had told them that she was pregnant with Harry her mother had said, ‘That’s what you get naming your daughter after a prostitute in that stupid film you like.’ Her dad hadn’t even tried to argue.

  Holly realised the other three were looking at her. Had someone just asked her a question? She had no idea.

  ‘We were just wondering if you were named after Holly Golightly,’ Rosemary prompted.

  ‘No,’ she mumbled. ‘I think it was probably something to do with Christmas. Would you excuse me a moment? I just need the ladies’ room.’

  Chapter 37

  Rosemary was holding Robert’s hand as the two couples walked along the sandy path towards their respective rooms. Philippe’s arm was draped casually across Holly’s shoulders and she occasionally glanced up at him to respond to his conversation.

  ‘They make a lovely couple, don’t you think?’ Rosemary said in a hushed voice.

  Robert looked at his wife’s radiant face but he was troubled.

  ‘You don’t think it’s all moving a bit too fast, do you? I mean she has only just lost her husband, it could be a rebound thing. I don’t want either of them to get hurt,’ he concluded.

  ‘They fit,’ said Rosemary, feeling guilty that she knew Holly’s real situation when her husband didn’t. ‘And, as I said at dinner, nothing lasts forever. We should all make the most of each moment.’

  Robert couldn’t argue with that sentiment but he still felt uneasy as they reached the bottom of the steps leading to Holly’s room and the two of them said goodnight to Rosemary and Robert, clearly intending to spend the night together.

  ‘Will we see you at breakfast, Holly?’ Rosemary asked.

  ‘Of course’ she replied, ‘although it will be quite early as the car to take me to the airport is due here at nine thirty.’

  ‘We’ll see you around eight then.’

  ‘Perfect,’ said Holly rounding the turn in the steps and wondering, not for the first time, exactly when she was going to do her packing.

  Rosemary and Robert continued on to their room in silence, each remembering the excitement of being young and in love in Mauritius.

  Holly opened the door to her room feeling ridiculously nervous. This was the first time they both knew what would happen next. She reached for the switch on the bedside lamp but Philippe put his hand over hers to stop her. It felt like she had been struck by a lightning bolt.

  ‘Let’s open the curtains instead,’ he whispered, his mouth so close to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath. ‘It’s a beautiful moon, it would be such a shame not to enjoy it.’

  They moved over to the window together, Holly feeling strangely shy but full of anticipation for a repeat performance of the pleasure that she had denied herself for so long. He drew back the curtains then stood behind her allowing her to lean back into him as they looked out at the inky ocean with the path of the moon leading directly to them. Holly could feel Philippe’s desire pressing into the small of her back as he began to kiss her neck, gently flicking his tongue into her ear and then sucking softly on her lobe, sending shivers through her whole body. He traced the outline of her shoulder blades with his tongue before easing the narrow straps of her dress down with his teeth, revealing her naked shoulders and exposing her breasts. She stood semi-naked in the moonlight not sure if anyone could see her but not caring if they could. This was a different Holly, one that had been locked away for nineteen years. She closed her eyes to fully appreciate each flick of the tongue or gentle bite, every nerve ending on full alert sending messages to the depths of her belly.

  Philippe placed his fingers lightly on her shoulder to turn her to face him then let his hands drop again. He nibbled along her collar bones, then traced her breastbone with the tip of his tongue moving down towards her belly button, still without touching her with his hands. Her dress had caught on her hips so he reached behind her to unzip it, allowing it to fall to the floor in a graceful pool. He moved away from her slightly to drink in her curves and the triangle of champagne-coloured lace that was her only protection from nudity.

  Holly’s eyes were still closed, willing him to touch her in her most intimate place.

  ‘Open your eyes, Holly.’

  She did as instructed and caught her breath as he stood before her naked.

  ‘Do you want this?’ he asked
. ‘Do you want me?’

  ‘Yes,’ was all the affirmation she could muster and all the confirmation Philippe needed. He swept her off her feet and laid her on the bed and as she arched her back his lips closed around her hardened nipple. Moments later he slid into her, unable to resist any longer.

  Afterwards, Holly lay on her side, her head resting on Philippe’s chest while he played with the jewel-encrusted hair clip that had worked its way loose during their exertions.

  ‘It’s pretty,’ he said. ‘Was it a gift?’

  ‘Yes, Harry treated me to it for Christmas last year.’

  ‘Was Harry your husband?’

  Holly’s throat tightened as she realised what she had said. She wanted to tell Philippe that she had been lying about having a dead husband, and that she had a teenage son called Harry, but this wasn’t the right moment. She nodded.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ he asked. ‘You already know I’m a very good listener.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he persevered. ‘Were you thinking about him earlier in the evening when you rushed off to the loo?’

  Holly took a deep breath. ‘No,’ she answered truthfully. ‘I was thinking about my dad. I lied when I said I wasn’t named after Holly Golightly. I was. It was my dad’s favourite film too.’

  Philippe was looking at her questioningly . ‘So why didn’t you just say that?’

  ‘Because... because I don’t like being named after a high-class hooker,’ she replied.

  ‘She wasn’t really a hooker, Holly, she just accepted gifts from wealthy gentlemen. You should be pleased that he wanted to name you after the lead character in his favourite film. Have you spoken to him about the way you feel? You could always get your name changed you know.’

  ‘It’s too late,’ Holly said wearily.