Chapter Ten
'nicola. "
As the familiar male voice penetrated her sleep, Nicola reluctantly
opened her eyes, awareness flooding back to her as she recognised the
interior of Matt's car, and remembered what had happened.
The car was now stationary but, when she looked through the window,
instead of the familiar outline of her parents' home, all she could see
in the darkness was the shape of an irregularly built, low-roofed
cottage.
As she turned towards Matt, he forestalled her questions, saying
firmly, "I think you and I need to talk, don't you?"
To talk, at this time of the night? It was almost midnight, and
anyway, what was there to talk about? It went without saying that Matt
would expect her to hand in her resignation, and no amount of
apologising on her part could wipe out what had happened, but before
she could voice these thoughts Matt was opening his car door,
apparently taking her agreement for granted as he walked round to her
side of the car and opened the door, waiting for her to alight. or
making sure she couldn't escape, Nicola reflected shakily as she got
out.
As Matt guided her towards the cottage he told her quietly, "I thought
it would be more comfortable for us both if we talked here rather than
at the hotel."
Nicola wanted to protest that she wanted to go home, but he was already
inserting his key in the lock and opening the door, reaching past her
to switch on the lights.
The hallway was narrow and dark, stairs leading sharply to the upper
floor, doors opening to the left and right of the passage. Matt opened
the right-hand one, indicating that she was to go inside.
Weakly she did so, blinking a little in the electric light as she
stepped into the cottage's sitting-room.
It was simply but comfortably furnished, and more homely than she would
have expected from rented premises, due in the main to the books
scattered throughout the room.
"I prefer reading to watching television," Matt informed her, startling
her with the ease with which he had read her mind.
"Sit down, while I make us both a hot drink."
Again she wanted to protest that she didn't want a drink; she felt as
though she was caught up in some sort of strange waking dream, in which
she herself had no control of events, and could only participate under
the direction of someone else.
It was an odd, weakening sensation, and must surely have had something
to do with the trauma she had experienced, but even recognising that
fact did not seem to enable her to do anything about it and, even while
her stunned brain formed the thought that there was nothing to stop her
from getting up and walking out of the cottage, Matt reappeared
carrying two mugs of coffee. She was sitting in one of the deep
leather chairs either side of the fireplace and, when Matt came towards
her, she flinched back from him automatically, cringing as he put down
the cup of coffee--not from him, but from herself and from all that she
had caused to happen.
It seemed that he stood watching her for a long time before asking
quietly, "You aren't afraid of me, are you, Nicki?"
She wasn't sure if it was the quietness of his voice, or the use or the
small, personal diminutive of her name that caused her throat to lock,
so that she could only shake her head in response to his question.
"I'm sorry about what happened this evening, and I'm sorry too that I
didn't recognise you before." He gave her an odd look.
"Perhaps if I'd paid more attention to my senses I might have done."
While Nicola was still staring at him, wondering why on earth he was
being so calm, so nice to her, when in reality he must be furiously
angry with her and bitterly contemptuous of her into the bargain, he
held out his hands to her and very gently took hold of her own.
Too bemused to resist, she allowed him to draw her to her feet, and
lead her over to the settee.
"I think we'll be able to talk far more comfortably here, don't you?"
he asked her steadily.
His smile disappeared as he told her.
"Hendry's comment was offensive in the extreme, and I'm not surprised
that you were so upset but--' " But it wouldn't have happened if I'd
been honest with you and told you from the start who I was," Nicola
interrupted him shakily.
"Yes, I do know that. I..." She could feel tears burning her eyes,
and shook her head impatiently, trying to disperse them. Breaking down
in tears now was the last thing she wanted to do, but she hadn't been
prepared for Matt being so kind, so understanding, so. so nice.
"Well, maybe--but in the circumstances I think I can understand why you
didn't. Is that why you've held me so firmly at bay, Nicki.. because
of that night?"
The conversation wasn't following the course she had expected at all.
She gave him a grave, hunted look before saying despairingly, "Do you
blame me? After--after that night with you... when I got to work and
Jonathon said--when he--' Her lips were trembling so much that she had
to stop speaking.
"What exactly did Jonathon say?" Matt pressed her, his voice suddenly
hard.
She couldn't go on, and yet she had to. She owed Matt that much, at
least.
"He--he made it plain that since I'd.. since I'd obviously spent the
night with you, I'd be quite happy to--to do the same thing with him.
He also made it quite plain just how he--how all men regarded someone
like me who went to bed with a man without really knowing him. who
went in for one-night stands," she told him sickly, unable to look
directly at him now, but determined to spare herself nothing.
"I--I couldn't cope with it.. with the gossip and innuendo, with
Jonathon's comments about--about me. I handed in my notice and came
home determined to make sure that no man would ever, ever again have
any reason to believe that I was--that I was the sort of girl who went
in for casual sex," she went on bleakly.
"But unfortunately that kind of thing can't just be put behind you so
easily. I--I was afraid that--' She stopped, unable to go on, until
Matt said gently, " I think I understand what you're trying to say,
Nicki, but you must have eventually realised, the first time you did
make love, that there had never been anything physical between you and
me, and that all I was doing by letting you think there had was trying
to shock you into acknowledging how dangerous that kind of behaviour
could be. It was obvious to me that night we met just how innocent and
naive you were, and it was equally obvious that all that determined
flirting wasn't for my benefit, but for Jonathon's. I had three
teenage sisters. I knew how teenage girls behave. For some reason you
reminded me of them, and I couldn't help thinking how I'd feel if some
man took advantage of them in the way that-"When you fell asleep in the
car without giving me your address, I decided the best thing I could do
was to take you home with me and let you sleep it off. I promised
myself that when you woke up in the morning you were going to get the
biggest big-brother lecture you'd ever heard, but then I overslept and
I had that damned plane to catch--' He broke off abruptly, suddenly
aware of how pale she had become, how tense and disbelieving.
"What's wrong?" he asked her urgently.
"Nicki, what is it?"
He had to repeat the question several times before she seemed to hear
it, her voice strained and low-pitched as she demanded huskily, "What
do you mean, there hadn't been anything physical between us?"
Now it was his turn to tense.
"Exactly what I said," he told her after a brief pause.
"You and I were never lovers. Nicki, you were just a child, a drunken
child at that. You surely don't think that I would have...?" He shook
his head.
"And even if there was no one else before me, you and Gordon..."
He stopped when he saw her face.
"How could I?" she demanded passionately.
"How could I, after what I'd done.. when for all I knew...? How could
I ever explain? I would have had to have lied." She gave a deep
shudder.
"I was living a lie as it was.. pretending to be something I wasn't. I
didn't dare allow myself to become involved, to fall in love.. to have
to pretend."
She swallowed painfully.
"You're a man. You won't understand. But after that night.. after
what Jonathon said to me.. when he made me realise that because I'd
been to bed with you and he knew it he and other men would think that I
was--that I would--' " That you would be sexually available to him,"
Matt finished bitingly for her.
"Are you really trying to tell me that because of--because of that
you've denied yourself the knowledge, the fulfilment of your own
sexuality? But Nicki, Nicki, nothing happened! I never touched
you."
He was shaking her gently, groaning under his breath as he saw the
tears she couldn't hold back any longer.
"But in the morning you said... You--' " Ah, yes. That. I didn't
intend that to happen. But--well, let's just say I was as shocked as
you were, but I was a lot better at concealing that shock. I tried to
get in touch with you, you know he added, watching her.
"When I got back from the States I tried to trace you, but they told me
at Mathieson and Hendry that you hadn't left any forwarding address...
Was that why you broke up with Gordon?" he asked her quietly.
"Because he wanted?"
Nicola shook her head, stopping him, a shaky laugh trembling through
her.
"No, it was nothing like that. The last thing Gordon wanted from me
was sex. No..."
"But you still love him...?"
"Love him?" She gave Matt a shaky look.
"I never loved him. We were just friends--barely that, really. It was
convenient for us to date one another." Her voice became slightly
bitter.
"It was safe..."
"Because Gordon wouldn't ask for sex. Oh, Nicki, what have I done to
you?" he asked her remorsefully.
"I had no idea.. never dreamed.. "
She shook her head.
"It wasn't your fault, it was mine. I should never have behaved like
that in the first place, then Jonathon would never..."
She heard Matt groan and stopped speaking.
"You were a baby, that was all, just a baby." He gave her a fierce
look and added forcefully, "And I'll tell you this, if I had made love
to you, drunk or not you would have been able to remember it..."
Something quivered deep inside her, a soft, fluttering sensation that
made her tense her body automatically, even as she drew in a tiny,
shocked gasp of breath.
"I wanted to, you know," she heard Matt saying to her.
"I think that's what made me so angry with you--the fact that even
knowing you hadn't the least interest in me, despite all that
determined flirting, I still wanted you. In fact, I still do..."
She stared at him, trembling inwardly.
"But you can't," she protested.
"Not after everything that's happened.
Not after tonight and Jonathon. and the conference. "
"To hell with Hendry and the conference. What's far more important
right now is you and the way I feel about you. I want to make love to
you, Nicki," he told her shockingly.
"Because you feel sorry for me?" she questioned sharply, her
expression defensive.
"Because you feel--' " Because I feel such a need for you that I can't
resist it . or you," Matt corrected her, and she thought she heard him
saying as he lowered his mouth to hers--but she couldn't be sure-"
Because I love you. "
It was useless trying to tell herself to stop him; her senses drank in
the intimacy of him so greedily that their need obliterated everything
else.
She trembled as his hands slid into her hair, tenderly holding her
captive as he kissed her, slowly, lingeringly as though he wanted to
savour each individual millisecond of pleasure, his lips brushing hers,
sensitising them, until they clung eagerly to his, urgently seeking a
deeper pressure, a greater intimacy.
"If you don't want me, you'll tell me, won't you?" Matt whispered
between kisses.
If she didn't want him! It must be shamefully obvious to him how much
she did want him, she reflected dizzily as she clung to him, her nails
digging into the firm flesh of his back in a sharp, involuntary
reaction to the passionate intensity of his kiss. The top half of his
body was covering hers, pressing her back into the settee. She could
feel the unsteady race of his heartbeat, the heat coming off his flesh.
As she closed her eyes, she could visualise his body, hard and male,
his skin satin-sleek over his muscles, strong and powerful. A deep
shudder ran through her, but when Matt mistook the reason and started
to lift himself away from her she clung to him.
Immediately he responded to her unspoken plea, wrapping her in his arms
and holding her against him while he kissed her throat and caressed the
narrow line of her shoulder. Her skin burned where he touched it, her
clothes an unbearable barrier between them. She ached for him to touch
her skin with an intensity she couldn't contain. When he stroked her
lips with his tongue-tip, she made a small, taut sound deep in her
throat that caused him to deepen the kiss to a level of intimacy that
sent pleasure jolting through her body at the same time as it made her
ache and move frantically against him.
Nicola wanted to touch him everywhere, to stroke him, to caress him, to
taste him and show him. She made a soft, whimpering sound as he broke
the kiss and buried his mouth in the hollow of her throat.
When his hands touched her breasts, gently holding them, shaping them,
the need to be free of her clothes was so intense that she had to stop
herself from crying it out loud to him. But he seemed to know what she
was feeling because he reached behind her and gently lowered the zip so
that he could ease the fabric away from her, telling her thickly as he
did so, "If I had made love to you then, that first time, I would have
done so like this, slowly and gently, trying not to frighten you.
trying to control what you were doing to me."
He was touching her skin was he spoke, cup 5
ping her breasts, finding the hard, betraying points of her nipples and
caressing them, telling her in between kisses, "You would have felt
just the way you do now--soft, feminine, your body willing to be
responsive to mine. I'd have known then that you'd never known the
kind of intimacy I wanted to share with you, the kind of desire that
drives a man to caress a woman's body, not just with his hands but with
his lips, his tongue."
He was sliding her breasts free of the silk covering of her bra as he
spoke. In the shadows of the room her flesh gleamed palely, the
aureolae of her breasts darker, her nipples tautly hard peaks that
seemed to beg for the intimacy he was promising.
"Then you'd have looked at me just the way you are doing now, and your
body would have looked just like this, your breasts all feminine
temptation, so much temptation that I wouldn't have been able to stop
myself from touching them ... tasting them."
Nicola watched tensely, tiny shudders running through her as Matt
slowly bent his head to her breasts, cupping them in his hands as he
gently kissed them.
An aching need burst into life inside her, a sharp desire to arch her
back, to catch hold of his head, to hold him there against her breast
while he--Heat seemed to burst out of all her pores, a strangled sob
stifled in her throat as she fought not to do what her instincts were
urging her to do, but Matt seemed to sense her need because his mouth
sought the aching peak of one breast, his lips caressing it gently, and
then less gently when he felt her shuddering response.
The shock of the sensation engulfing her made her cry out, a high,
sharp sound of shocked pleasure and need, her body arching as she
offered herself to that need like a sacrifice to some pagan religion.
"Beautiful, you're so beautiful," she heard Matt muttering against her
skin, the words a litany of praise and worship as his mouth continued
to feed on her aching breasts, creating a mindless sea of sensuality to
surround them with warm, lapping waves of increasing arousal.
Only when her own need to reciprocate, to touch him with the same
intimacy with which he was touching her, became too much for her, did
Nicola push him away, struggling to explain to him when he held her and
kissed her, apologising for shocking or hurting her, that what she
wanted was to be able to touch him without the barrier of their
clothes, to be able to see if his body reacted to her the way hers did
to him.
The words were fragmented, unstructured, and uncertain, but Matt still
seemed to be able to make sense of them, guiding her fingers to his
shirt, helping her unfasten the buttons, groaning softly when she tried
to tug his shirt off and became side-tracked into exploring the hard
leanness of his chest with her lips, fascinated by the flat hardness of
his nipples, wanting to know if he would react to her the way she had
to him, awed to find out that he could and did, half thrilled, half
shocked by the things he said to her, by the things he promised her.
At eighteen this intensity of passion would have terrified her, she
suspected, but she wasn't eighteen now, and far from being
terrified-"Much more of this and there'll be no going back, you know
that, don't you?" Matt warned her hoarsely as she reached for his
belt.
Her eyes followed his movements, her body shuddering with excitement as
she watched him remove his clothes. He studied her gravely for a
moment before holding out his arms to her, and she recognised that in
doing so he was asking her to make her own decision, to choose freely
of her own accord to go to him or to withdraw.
He was standing in front of the fire. Only half a dozen paces or so
away but, as she got up from the settee and walked unsteadily towards
him, Nicola knew they were the most difficult half a dozen steps she
would ever have to take.
When she reached him and his arms folded around her, she discovered
that she was trembling not just with arousal, but also with relief.
Relief that she had found the courage to come to him, relief that she
was here held safely in his arms. A relief that combined with the
knowledge that, no matter what else the future might hold, no matter
whether Matt only wanted her fleetingly--so fleetingly that this one
night might be all she had of him--she would never, ever regret what
they were sharing.
He might only feel desire for her, but it was a clean, honest desire.
a pure desire in its way. a desire that by its very intensity would
burn itself clean of any taint.
And for her there would be no regrets, no guilt. nothing but the
knowledge that he had wanted her, and that that wanting had been strong
enough to make their coming together special. sacred to her, if not to
him.
As Matt held her, gently removing her clothes so that they stood body
to body, warmed by each other's skin, each other's passion, she felt
such a deep, flooding sense of joy that she actually trembled with the
force of it, instinctively lifting her face, inviting his kiss, opening
her mouth to the deep penetration of his tongue, welcoming the urgent
stroke of his hands against her body, his arousal, his maleness.
When he touched her his hands were gentle, knowing, leading her
tenderly towards the intoxicating discovery of her own sensuality,
until her response to him overwhelmed them both and he told her huskily
how much he wanted her, how much he needed her.
When he lowered her to the floor, protecting her from its hardness with
the cushions he had dragged off the settee, she shuddered tensely,
wanting him, aching for him so much that the sensation of him moving
gently against her so sensitised her already aroused flesh that she
cried out to him in frantic need, causing him to forget caution and
surge into her. And each powerful thrust of his body was so intensely
erotic that she quickly became lost in the sensations he was arousing,
clinging to him, begging him never to let the pleasure stop, crying out
loud to him in awed disbelief when her body finally became caught up in
the fierce spiral of completion.
The sense of fulfilment that followed the frantic, driving race of
desire, when Matt held her in his arms, tenderly stroking the damp hair
back off her face, kissing her eyelids and the tip of her nose, and
then finally and lingeringly her mouth, made her eyes burn with
unexpected tears. Tears which Matt did not seem to find strange at all
as he wiped away their dampness and then kissed her moist skin. An
exhaustion that was as much mental as physical suddenly washed over
her. Despite her efforts not to do so, she discovered that she was
closing her eyes, giving up the fight to stay awake.
Watching her. Matt touched her mouth tenderly, his heart so full of
emotion that he felt his own eyes prick with tears.
All these years and she had thought. had never known. He would never
be able to forgive himself for that, even while selfishly, malely, he
recognised with wry acceptance, he had also felt a certain raw pleasure
in knowing that he was her first lover, in knowing that the pleasure
they had shared was so new to her, so natural and instinctive, so
responsive to his own desire that there had been times when he had
feared he might lose his self-control, and spoil things for her.
He stood up, and then slowly picked her up, carrying her upstairs and
settling her in the old fashioned double bed that dominated his
bedroom, before going back downstairs to retrieve their clothes and
replace the cushions on the settee.
Then broodingly he went back upstairs. She had given herself to him
with every evidence of passion and pleasure, but she had not said she
loved him . had not--He himself had been surprised at the speed with
which he had fallen in love with her, but knowing what he did now. Who
knew? Perhaps subconsciously some part of him had recognised her, had
known, and that was why he had felt so drawn to her, so quickly.
Now they were lovers, but he wanted far more from her than mere
physical desire--much, much more.
As he climbed into bed and lay down beside tier, she turned towards him
hi her sleep, nestling close to him, her lips curving into a soft smile
as she reached out for him. He bent his head to kiss her and realised
she was not as deeply asleep as he had supposed when she sighed
rapturously beneath her breath and moved her body enticingly against
him.
This time the pace of their lovemaking was different, more knowing,
more shared, Nicola's confidence in herself as a woman allowing her to
indulge her desire for an intimacy with him that she had never
previously dared imagine.
She discovered how intoxicating it was to touch his body with her hands
and with her mouth, and to discover how intensely each caress aroused
him, and not just him. There was, as she quickly discovered, a
distinct and erotic pleasure to be found in the knowledge that she was
arousing him--that she could make him as vulnerable as he had made her
simply by letting her fingertips drift along his thigh, simply by
circling her tongue-tip around his nipple and then by teasing it with
delicate, cat-like laps, which drove him into a frenzy of hoarse
protests and male pleas that she cease tormenting him.
Later, though, when her own desire incited her into more intimate
caresses, she was the one who trembled when she felt and saw his body's
response to the delicate exploration of her fingertips and lips; but
when she would have drawn away from him, half afraid of the intensity
of his arousal and her own aching reaction to it, he stopped her
gently, whispering to her how much pleasure she was giving him. how
much he loved the way she was touching him, the intimacy of her
caresses, even while the pleasure she was giving him was almost more
than he could bear.
"Let me show you what it feels like," he whispered to her.
"Let me show you how it feels to be loved so pleasurably."
She trembled convulsively at the thought of so intimate a loving,
holding her breath in a mixture of tension and delight when he touched
her, half afraid of the intensity of the sensations his touch gave her,
struggling to hold back the tide of arousal starting to swamp her,
unsure if she wanted to commit herself to so much intimacy, so much
pleasure, and yet at the same time unable to deny what was happening to
her.
When she cried out at the peak of that pleasure, almost unable to
endure it. Matt responded to her need, holding her, soothing her,
caressing her tenderly until the spasms of sensation had faded to a
blurring after-glow, before taking her and showing her that, intense
though that sensation had been there was a very special kind of
pleasure and sharing that came from the intimacy of their bodies moving
easily together towards a shared >-. max.
Afterwards, when she was on the verge of sleep, Nicola wondered what
would have happened if he had loved her like that all those years ago.
Her body trembled as she acknowledged how hard she would have found it
to have left him in the morning--indeed, how difficult she would find
it to leave him in the morning.
She still wasn't entirely sure why he had made love to her--if it had
been out of compassion, pity, or guilt as well as the desire he had
told her over and over again that he felt.
What she did know with an even sharper clarity than before was how much
she loved him. Not just emotionally, not just sexually, but with a
spiritual blending of all that was strongest and most powerful within
her. Yes, she loved him, but was she strong enough to walk away from
him. to be glad for what they'd had without seeking to look for
something more?
When she fell asleep her eyes were wet with the tears she knew to be
only the precursor of many, many more tears that were going to fall.
"Nicki, wake up."
The voice, the hand on her arm--both of them were so instantly familiar
that she was saying Matt's name even before she was properly awake,
opening her eyes to discover that he was standing beside the bed, half
dressed, his torso still bare and slightly damp like his hair. just as
he had been eight years ago.
There was even a mug of coffee on the table beside the bed, and from
the grim expression in Matt's eyes Nicola suspected that he was prob
ably already regretting what had happened. already As she turned her
head away, dreading what she might read in his eyes, his hand came out
sliding against her jaw, cupping her face, holding her still so that
she was forced to look at him.
"Don't turn away from me," he whispered huskily.
The emotion in his voice startled her, her glance searching his face
uncertainly.
"I don't want to rush you, to force you into a commitment you aren't
ready to give... But after last night you must have realised how much
how much I love you."
Nicola stared at him, her shock showing in her eyes.
"You love me? But you can't. You never said... You didn't " I didn't
what? " he asked her softly.
"I didn't show you how much you mean to me, how much I love you? Do
you honestly believe that do you honestly think that if I didn't love
you I would have...?"
He stopped speaking, shaking his head as he said bitingly, "I promised
myself I wouldn't do this, that I wouldn't pressurise you.. that I
wouldn't beg.. that I'd let you--Oh; God, I'm behaving like the worst
kind of fool ... and worse. Nicki, I'm sorry. I never intended--I
suppose it's just the strain of loving you. wanting you.. of being
terrified that if I let you walk out of here you'll be walking out of
my life and that you'll never, ever walk back into it. I let you go
once... lost you once. Maybe then I didn't know quite what I was
losing, but I know now. Nicki, if you don't care.. if you feel you're
never going to be able to care, then for God's sake say so. Don't let
me make an even bigger fool of myself than I already have. If you
don't love me..."
She made a tiny anguished sound that checked his words and made him
look at her, anxiously searching her face, hungrily absorbing the
information he could see in her eyes, and then more slowly studying her
again, both his hands cupping her face as he watched her, saw the love
in her eyes, registered and recognised it.
"You love me?"
Nicola nodded her head, unable to speak, unable to believe this was
actually happening.
"You love me.. you really love me!"
He was covering her face with tiny exultant kisses as he spoke, his
body trembling a little as he lowered himself on to the bed, reaching
for her beneath the bedclothes, holding her against him as his mouth
caressed hers, slowly, possessively, and then far more fiercely,
compelling her to respond to him, to cling to him, while he told her
over and over again how much he loved her.
Later, a long time later, when they had both finally come down to
earth, they talked in soft- voiced murmurs, exchanging confidences,
making plans, promises.
"I never meant to cause you so much pain," Matt told her as he held
Nicola in his arms.
"I feel so guilty about that.. about not taking the time to reassure
you before I left for New York that nothing had happened between us. I
had no idea it would traumatise you so much. I only meant to give you
a fright, to make you stop and think about what you were doing, about
the risks you were running."
"It wasn't your fault," Nicola reassured him lovingly.
"If Jonathon hadn't--' Matt put his fingers across her lips.
"Shush. He's the last person I want to talk about right now."
"But if it hadn't been for him, this might never have happened," Nicola
pointed out teasingly.
Matt shook his head.
"Sooner or later this would have happened," he told her firmly.
"Maybe not as quickly nor as intensely, but I'd started loving you long
before last night. I wanted to get closer to you, but every time I
tried you seemed to reject me. I thought it was because of Gordon.."
"I was afraid," Nicola admitted.
"Afraid of responding to you because of what had happened, because I
felt so guilty.. so ashamed."
Matt turned her round in his arms, cupping her face as he told her
seriously, "Even if we had made love that night, even if that night or
any night had happened with someone else, it wouldn't make any
difference to the way I feel about you. You were a child, Nicola, that
was all barely aware of what you were doing, what you were inviting.. I
knew that all you wanted to do was to make Jonathon jealous."
"Not entirely," Nicola told him, flushing slightly.
"That was what I originally wanted to do, but when you were dancing
with me..." She stopped and looked up at him.
"I wanted you then, Matt, and I think it was knowing that I wanted you
that helped to convince me that we had been lovers. I think that deep
down somewhere I wanted us to have been lovers."
When he kissed her she wrapped her arms around him, holding on to him
tightly, trembling a little when he told her how much he loved her, how
much he wanted her not just for now but for the rest of their lives.
"I've waited a long time to find you," he told her lovingly.
"And now that I have found you, I
don't want to wait any longer. Will you marry me, Nicki? "
When she nodded her head, he kissed her again, and this time it was she
who initiated their lovemaking, touching him with loving, knowing
hands, exulting in his response to her.
"Well, now, Mrs. Hunt, I think we should drink a toast to the person
who made all this possible, don't you?"
Less than an hour ago they had arrived at their honeymoon villa on the
small French Caribbean island. Outside the sun was setting in a ball
of orange fire. Inside the villa the air conditioning hummed. The
girl who had greeted them on their arrival explaining that there was a
meal for them in the fridge, had gone, and they were on their own.
As she took the glass of champagne Matt was handing her, Nicola laughed
teasingly at him.
"Jonathon," she guessed, giving him a deliberately provocative little
pout.
"Jonathon," Matt agreed with a grin, putting down his glass and holding
out his arms to her, telling her, "It goes dark very early here,
doesn't it...?"
"Very," Nicola agreed, straight-faced.
"In fact, it's so dark already, it might almost be bedtime..."
"You took the words right out of my mouth,"
Matt told her, nibbling on her earlobe.
"But what about our supper?" Nicola pretended to protest as he picked
her up.
"Later," Matt told her.
"Much, much later. Right now I've got far more important things on my
mind than food."
"Much more important," Nicola agreed softly.
"Much, much more important
17-11-07, 08:13 AM
Chapter Ten
.......... 
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