And she had got yet another secret about his childhood out of him. A painful episode that had left its mark on him to this day. Saying goodbye to Midge was the hardest thing he had ever done. Letting his beloved pet go had ripped his heart out. He had taught himself at that moment never to love anyone or anything so much that he was unable to say goodbye. He had always known he would one day lose his parents, as most children expected to do. And he had always known he would one day lose Emma because her condition precluded a long life.
And he would say goodbye to Millie at some point and be fine with it, just as he had been fine with it with everyone else.
Hunter brought his mouth down to hers in a blistering kiss that sent his blood hammering through his veins. Lust swept through him and he grasped her by the hips and held her against his pounding length, relishing the silky feel of her body so temptingly close to his. His tongue played with hers in a cat-and-mouse caper than sent his heart-rate up and his self-control teetering. He wanted, wanted, wanted to sink into her velvet wetness and take them both to paradise. He wanted, wanted, wanted her with a driving, drumming ache that was beyond anything he had ever felt before.
He set her down before him and lowered his mouth to her breasts, her nipples already tightly puckered. He tasted the salt water dotting her flesh, and the scent of her fresh-summer-flowers fragrance sent his senses haywire. He caressed her other breast with his lips and tongue, enjoying the sounds of her pleasure. Enjoying the sensual power he had over her. But, hey, didn’t she have the same power over him? So much power it was driving him crazy, turning him into a man of such desperate need, it raised a red flag in his head.
How long would this continue? This driving need for her that wouldn’t abate. It had to peter out eventually. It had to. Otherwise he was in deep water.
‘I want you so badly it’s becoming a problem.’ He didn’t realise he had spoken his thoughts out loud until Millie caressed his jaw with her soft little hand, her eyes shimmering with need.
‘Why is that a problem?’
Hunter stroked his hands down from the top of her shoulders to grasp her by the wrists. ‘I can’t make love to you without a condom.’
‘You brought some with you, though, didn’t you?’
He nodded towards their towels and hamper. ‘They’re back with the towels.’
She tiptoed her fingers down his sternum to his belly button, hovering tantalisingly close to his jutting erection but without actually making contact. His blood thundered and roared, and he had never felt so turned on in his life. Her eyes were dancing, her lips curved upward in a smile that was as sultry as the sunshine beating down on his head and shoulders.
‘Then maybe we’d better get back to the towels before you or I lose control.’ Her voice had a breathless edge and there was a gleam of mischief in her eyes.
Hunter had a feeling he was the one in far more danger of losing control. Her hand drifted lower, her fingers going around him, and he let out a curse through tight lips. ‘Your touch drives me to distraction.’
‘That’s only fair, since yours does the same to me.’ She squeezed him tighter, an on-off squeeze that sent his pulse racing.
Hunter moved her hand away and scooped her up in his arms, walking back through the waist-deep water to the sandy beach. ‘I think that’s enough swimming for now.’
Millie laughed and linked her arms around his neck. ‘Spoilsport.’
He laid her down on the towels and quickly rummaged for a condom and applied it. He came over her, pinning her with his body, wanting her so badly he had to count backward to slow himself down. He drank in the sight of her shining eyes and slightly parted mouth, her rosy-red lips eager for his kiss. Her legs opened for him and he surged into her wet warmth with an agonised groan of pleasure, his skin peppering in goose-bumps as her inner muscles wrapped around him. He set a fast pace, but she was with him every step of the way, urging him on with gasps and groans and whimpers that thrilled him to the core of his being. She wanted him and he wanted her and that was enough for now.
It had to be.
* * *
Later that day, Millie and Hunter sat on the yacht after showering and changing and shared a glass of wine as the sun went down. Every inch of her body felt alive and tingling, and every time she caught Hunter’s eye a frisson would pass over her flesh as she recalled their explosive love-making on the beach.
But then one of the thoughts she was fighting so hard to suppress crept up on her and began to taunt her. Would he one day bring someone else out here and make mad, passionate love to her? Would he wine and dine them and make them feel like a princess for the weekend? No doubt there would be numerous women after her—he was a playboy, after all. A man who wanted no ties, no long-term commitment.
Millie traced her finger round the rim of her wine glass in a reflective manner. ‘You know, you’ve set rather a high benchmark for any other lover I might have in the future.’
There was a silence broken only by the gentle lap of water against the hull of the yacht.
Millie chanced a glance at him to find him wearing a brooding frown, his fingers tightening around his wine glass. He appeared to give himself a mental shake and his frown disappeared from his forehead, but not his eyes. It lingered there in the background like a shadow.
‘So, you think you’ll be ready to move on with your life after...us?’ The slight hesitation over the word ‘us’ could have meant nothing or everything, but how could she tell? His tone gave nothing away.
Would she be able to move on? If he was coming with her on the journey then, sure, it would be a cinch. But without Hunter by her side, the man she had fallen in love with so deeply... How would it be possible to move on without his love in return? Millie stretched out her legs and crossed her ankles, twirling her top foot this way and that. Her left hand was resting on her thigh. The lowering sun caught the top of her engagement ring and she pointedly looked away, not wanting to be reminded of the mistakes she had made in the past.
‘I’m not sure...’ She gave him a forced little smile and added in a lighter tone, ‘So, who will be the next woman you bring out here to impress?’
His frown deepened and he put his glass down on the table between them on the deck. ‘I didn’t bring you out here to impress you, Millie.’ His voice was low and had a deep note of gravity.
‘Why did you bring me, then?’
His eyes held hers in a tight little lock that seemed to go on for endless seconds. She counted every one of them with the hammering beats of her heart. Boom. Boom. Boom.
‘I brought you here because I wanted to be alone with you.’ His tone dropped half a semitone to a deep burr.
‘We were alone at your house in London.’
His mouth twisted. ‘Until Emma needed me.’
Millie twirled the contents of her glass, looking down at the whirlpool she’d created, so similar to her swirling thoughts. ‘Is Emma one of the reasons you don’t want to settle down and have children of your own?’ She raised her gaze back to his. ‘Because you’re worried you might have a child with a genetic disorder like hers?’
Hunter leaned forward to rest his forearms on his bent thighs, his broad hands flat against each other in the space between his knees. He let out a long breath, his expression hard to see at that angle, but she suspected he hadn’t lost the frown.
‘I saw what Emma’s condition did to my parents. As soon as it became obvious Emma couldn’t be cured, my father bolted. My mother never lost hope that one day Emma would be miraculously healed. It was painful to see her scrabbling the money together for numerous alternative-health therapies. She went without to get Emma yet another experimental cure. None, of course, worked. Emma is a child locked in an adult’s body. Nothing is going to change that. She will never get married and have children. She will never enjoy the things most people take for granted. I just try and make her
life as comfortable and happy and secure as I can.’
Millie moved closer so she could touch him on the forearm. ‘I think what you do for Emma is wonderful. Which makes me think you’d make the most wonderful father yourself. It seems a shame to rule out the possibility. You couldn’t possibly turn out like your father. It’s not in your nature. And think of the joy you’d bring to Emma if she became an auntie. She would love her nieces and nephews to bits, I’m sure.’
Hunter straightened but something about his tight expression cautioned her that she’d stepped over a line. ‘Careful, Millie, it sounds like you’re dropping hints about making our fling into something it’s not.’ His tone had a chilled edge that made her spine stiffen.
Millie removed her hand from his arm as if it had been burned. ‘I wasn’t doing any such thing. I was simply suggesting—’
He stood so abruptly, she flinched. ‘You’re very good at suggesting but not so good at understanding the implications of those suggestions.’ The derisive edge to his voice cut her to the quick, the flash of his brown eyes even more so. He turned his back and gripped the ledge on the side of the yacht, staring out at the dipping sun, and added, ‘Let’s not ruin a perfectly nice weekend arguing over things that aren’t important.’
Millie rose from the seat and came over to him but didn’t touch him. She stood beside him, glancing up at his brooding expression. ‘What could be more important than your happiness?’
He turned his head to look down at her, his top lip curled. ‘My happiness? Don’t you mean your happiness? That’s what this conversation is all about, isn’t it?’
‘I’m not sure what you’re suggesting but...’
He pushed himself away from the side of the yacht, sending a jerky hand through the thickness of his hair. ‘You’re suggesting we make our fling permanent. That I pop a ring on your finger and marry you and have a bunch of babies. That just about sums it up, doesn’t it?’ His biting tone and cold gaze lashed at her nerves, already on edge.
Millie opened and closed her mouth, not sure how to respond. Those were exactly the things she wanted him to do, but not out of duty or because of her expectations, but because he loved her and wanted to be with her for the rest of his life. What a time to realise how much she loved him—the same time he was bluntly making it clear he didn’t love her back.
‘I would never want to tie anyone to me, as I once tied myself to my fiancé, out of a sense of duty or expectation. I would only want someone to be with me because they loved me too much to be away from me.’
Hunter glanced at the ring on her left hand, his expression still set in tight lines. ‘Then maybe it’s time you took that ring off.’
‘Maybe it is.’
‘But don’t expect me to put one in its place because that is not going to happen.’ His words were delivered in an adamant tone, his gaze glittering with disdain.
Millie raised her chin, determined not to show him how crushed she was feeling. ‘I never expected you to. You say you don’t want the things other people want, just like I used to do. You’re punishing yourself, denying yourself the most basic joys that life can offer, because you feel guilty about Emma. You are not to blame for her genetic disorder. You are not to blame for your father abandoning your family. You are not to blame for your mother’s death. But you are to blame for not opening your heart to the possibility of love.’
Hunter stood with his hands low on his hips. ‘Nice little speech, sweetheart.’ His tone was cuttingly scathing. ‘Let me guess what made you fancy yourself in love with me. Was it the house in London? The yacht? My private island?’
His island? Millie frowned in confusion. ‘It’s not your island. You said it belonged to a friend.’
He gave a grating laugh. ‘Yes, well, that didn’t seem to work with you, did it? You apparently saw through my little white lie and decided a man who owned a private Greek island was worth falling for.’
Millie’s spine was so stiff, she swore she could feel every muscle bunching into knots. ‘Are you calling me a gold-digger?’
‘I’m calling you a romantic fool who got a little in over her head.’ His expression was so cold, she wanted to shiver. ‘I should have known this could never work. You’re not the fling type. You were with the same man until he died, and you still wear his blasted ring.’
Millie automatically twisted the ring on her finger, testing to see if she could get it off, but it was still stuck. ‘I explained my reasons for staying with Julian. I told you more than I’ve told anyone. I opened up to you, but you told me so little about yourself. I found out about Emma only by circumstance. I suspect if we hadn’t been together that night at your home in London I would still know nothing about her.
‘You’re a closed book. You don’t allow anyone close because you don’t like giving people the power to hurt you. But life isn’t truly a life if we lock ourselves away from the possibility of hurt. Life is all about hurting, and dealing with and healing those hurts the best way we can, surrounded by those we love and trust to help us through the best and worst patches. That is what I want in a future relationship—knowing someone has my back in the same way I have theirs.’
Hunter was still frowning darkly, his mouth tightly compressed, a muscle beating in jaw. ‘So, the question is, what do we do now?’
Millie knew exactly what she had to do but doing it was going to be the real kicker. But she had dawdled too long in the past and got trapped in a prison of her own making. She would not allow herself to do so again. She had learned her lesson and learned it well. Too well, for this time it really hurt. It hurt in a way she had never thought possible. Her heart physically ached inside her chest—ached like it was being compressed in a vice. ‘Hunter, we have to end this. I have to end it. I can’t see you again, or at least not in this context. Of course, I’ll still attend meetings with my mother, unless you’d rather not—’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Hunter cut in. ‘I will continue to act for your mother regardless of what’s gone on between us. I can organise a support person for her if you’d rather not be there.’ There was nothing in his tone to suggest any engagement of his feelings. He spoke clearly, politely, dispassionately, unemotionally. His expression also showed no sign of any disappointment, and his earlier anger had completely disappeared. It was as if he had stepped into another persona, a business-as-usual persona that had not been one bit affected by her decision to end their fling.
Millie searched his features for a long moment, clinging to the hope that there might be a tiny chink in his armour, but in the end she had to accept the inevitable. It was over. They were over. And she hadn’t even told him she loved him, nor would she. He wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. ‘Thank you for...everything. I had a great time.’
His lips moved in a vestige of a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Glad to hear it.’ He let out a short breath and swung away. ‘I’d better get this yacht back to its moorings. We have a flight to catch in the morning.’
‘Hunter?’
He glanced over his shoulder, his hand still on the railing. ‘I’ll sleep in the spare room tonight.’
She bit down on her lip, a little surprised and somewhat embarrassed he had read her mind. ‘Fine. Thanks. I think that’s best.’
* * *
On the painfully long journey back to London Hunter was determined that he would not reveal how disappointed he was with Millie’s decision to end things between them. It was always going to happen, right? It just stung a little that she had ended it before he had. He was the one who usually walked away—that was something he had perfected over the years. Knowing when enough was enough, knowing how to read the signs that things were getting a little too serious. He was a master at avoiding messy break-ups. And he wasn’t going to sink to the level of grovelling now, even if he could eke out a few more weeks of their fling. And it would only be a matter of weeks—he didn�
�t ever let a relationship go much longer than that.
But somehow the short time with Millie had made him hungry for more. Ravenously hungry. Awakened a need in him he hadn’t known he possessed. A need for a deeper connection with someone, a mutually satisfying relationship where the usual guards were down and inner vulnerability exposed. She hadn’t told him straight out that she loved him, but he could read between the lines enough to know she wanted more. Much more. But he wasn’t the person to give it to her, so the wisest and surprisingly hardest thing to do was let her go. Surprising, because walking away from a fling had never hurt in the past. It had never sat uncomfortably with him, annoyed him or agitated him in any way whatsoever.
But boarding the plane back to London, sitting beside her and acting with indifferent politeness, was one of the most excruciating experiences of his life.
They walked off the plane together but, when they got to the exit, Millie turned to him with a look of resignation on her face. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll make my own way home from here.’
‘Don’t be silly, I’ll drive you.’
Her small, neat chin came up and her eyes glinted with determination, and something in his chest collapsed like a sail. ‘No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ She held out her hand. ‘Goodbye, Hunter.’
He ignored her hand, not trusting himself not to haul her back into his arms and remind her of all the reasons they should continue their fling a little longer. Why was this hurting so much? It was crazy. He never allowed anyone to get under his skin. Never.
He stripped his face of all emotion, determined not to show his inner turmoil. Determined not even to acknowledge it to himself. Why should he care they were over? It was a fling, damn it. Flings were meant to end sooner or later. ‘Goodbye, Millie. I guess I’ll see you in court.’
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