chapter FOURTEEN
LOVE entered his heart and this time he did not reject it, did not consider it impossible, for how could he, now that she was here?
‘I want you.’ He looked at her and he neither extended his words nor qualified them, but it made her heart soar to see love in his eyes, to feel the want shared between them.
They stripped prawns with their fingers, fingers that met in the bowl on the table and entwined for a moment in the tepid water. She removed her hand, because surely it was mad to sit holding hands in water, but as he had pressed the slice of lemon between thumb and finger she had had to swallow a breath, for it felt as if low, low in her stomach and down to her thighs, he was stroking.
The food was divine.
So much she noticed. As she tasted the produce of her island Connie savoured each mouthful, licked the oil from her lips and wished it was him.
‘No dessert menu.’ He made the decision for them.
He could not sit there one moment, could not watch her eat something sticky and sweet, could not watch that tongue lick those lips for even a second longer if it wasn’t on him, and, no, they didn’t want coffee, either.
Thank God he had an account there, so when to not be touching became unbearable, he didn’t have to worry about the bill, could simply take her by the hand and lead her out.
‘I’m trying not to break into a run,’ he said low into her ear as they walked through the restaurant.
He did not kiss her in the car—could not stand to start and have to stop again.
They walked through the arch. The night was warm and the thin wool of her dress felt oppressive now as she climbed the steps. They were both nervous and excited about what lay ahead. She heard the driver move off. Finally it was just them and because he had waited all night, he could wait no more, could not make it to the door without tasting what he had desired. But when he moved to kiss her, when they were alone, her kisses were not as expected. So he kissed her harder, undid the wrap of her dress, as he had wanted to before, and peeled it open and down her shoulders. Then stared at the breasts that had entranced him all night. He lowered his head to them as he slid the dress down her arms.
She felt ridiculous, there by the pool in her pants and bra, but the night air was cool on her bare skin and slowly, with his tender attention, she relaxed just a little. His mouth on her breasts was sublime, and she knew that now she could confide, because Nico was more than a lover, he was her heart.
‘I’m scared it will hurt.’ She felt the flutter of his lashes against her breast and knew he had closed his eyes. His mouth stilled and he lifted his head to hers.
He could have kicked himself, thought of how he had been before, understood now why she had halted him, and he said something he meant.
‘I’d never hurt you,’ Nico said, and he hesitated, for, for a second there, he wasn’t just talking about sex. He never made promises like that, never said things to which he would not adhere, but truly he meant it now.
‘Let’s cool off.’ He gestured to the pool and she laughed as he started to take off his suit.
‘We can’t!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because …’ She was shivering with both reluctance and temptation. Reluctance, because it seemed wrong somehow; tempted, because Nico, so uninhibited, was already undressed, and she was gifted again with the sight of his body. Her eyes flicked down to what awaited. He beckoned her to the water.
‘No one can see or hear us.’ He was right. Despina’s house was tucked well away, and the pool was shaded by a huge fig tree. There was nothing to stop her from going in. In fact, Nico was already in. Looking up, she felt his adoring scrutiny as she took off her shoes. She stood and looked down at him as she unhooked her bra and took it off, and she smiled unseen, for he was certainly not looking at her face. And he closed his eyes, just for a second as she slid down her pants, then opened them again to issue an order.
‘Stay there.’ He asked her to stay just to see her, to look just once more at all that he had missed for a year. His eyes told her, told her as they slowly took her in, that this was all he had been thinking of for a very long time now.
And then he held out his hand to her and the water was bliss to slip into, his wet arms better still.
His kiss was slow, measured and tender, but still nerves made her shiver because she could feel every inch of him against her stomach, but there was some relief, for now he was in no rush.
‘Let me wash you.’
He made her smile, but wash her tenderly he did. His hands moved over her, washed her as if they contained soap. He washed her arms and then her fingers and then her back and then her breasts and then he rinsed her, scooped the water over. Then the imaginary soap washed her face and ears with both his mouth and fingers, and so gentle was he, so slow and caressing, that she almost forgot to be scared.
Not even when his hands moved beneath the water, when he washed her most intimate place. When his fingers delicately moved in each crevice, all she could do was lean on his shoulder and nibble and moan against his saltwater skin.
She was as slippery, deep inside, as if he had used soap, Nico could feel it. Now she was ready, and so, absolutely, was he.
She wrapped her legs around him, felt the cold stone against her back. He lowered her down to him and there was no stab like before, just a slow, accepting stretch. The water was calm and still, despite the fire beneath the surface, as she let him take her, as she trusted herself to his skill. He supported her body with his hands, the water barely moving; he was so slow and tender, and then he moved her some more, till she wanted more, till her legs wrapped tighter around him and Connie moved to her own rhythm as he still supported her.
On the surface they were just kissing, kissing mouth, face and shoulders, but they were intimately united beneath, locked in each other, till she could not kiss and just rested her head to the side of his. And was it the words he uttered or the throb of him that made her feel giddy? A heat spread out from a deep centre and coherence was abandoned, just a strangled laugh to dismiss his apology as his hands pushed her hips harder down, for her own orgasm rushed in to meet his. It was so intense and so deep that it shot to her spine, to her throat and seized at her brain, halting words, for which she was thankful, because she almost told him she loved him. And in that moment, she was sure, he would have loved her right back, a declaration might have been made, without Nico knowing all the facts.
She felt like a liar as he helped her out of the pool. Her legs were shaky once on firmer ground, and she could not look at him so bent to get her clothes instead.
‘Leave it.’
‘I am not leaving this for Despina!’ Because she knew he was not talking about leaving it to the morning, but to see Nico pick up, when he never did, to see Nico look up as she watched and smiled, she felt like crying, because he wasn’t almost perfect—he simply was.
‘Constantine?’ She heard the question in his voice as they headed back to the house, but she could not answer him. Instead, automatically, she headed to her bedroom to check on Leo and gave a small embarrassed laugh as he walked up behind her and she realised what she was doing.
‘Sheer habit,’ Connie said, but her laugh faded a little, because it did feel strange to be without Leo, strange to go to Nico’s bed and know her baby was not in the house.
‘You miss him?’ Nico asked as she lay in the dark next to him.
‘Yes,’ Connie admitted. ‘I mean, I’ve had the most wonderful night. It just feels a bit strange, not having him near.’ There was the longest pause and then Nico asked a question.
‘How could she?’ Nico asked. ‘How could she just give up her baby?’
‘I’m sure she had her reasons.’ Connie could feel her heart hammering in her chest. ‘I don’t think you should judge her without …’ Unseen, she closed her eyes at the thought of all that was to come, of the pain she must soon inflict, and her voice wasn’t quite as assured when next it came. ‘Without knowing.’
She would tell him in the morning, before Despina brought Leo back. She would give him the starting point from where to look, and maybe he wouldn’t blame her, Connie tried to reassure herself. Maybe he might forgive her for not telling him sooner.
But even safe in his arms, it was hard to rest on a bed of so many maybes.