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Fleur locked the library doors with the spare key that Pamela had given her, and called her mother from the car. She saw Rick’s face break into a smile when she said that she wouldn’t be home until the morning, tactfully omitting to say exactly who she’d be staying with. Her parents had accepted that she lived her own life some time ago.

When he led her through from the garage, throwing his car keys onto the kitchen counter, he caught her hand, taking her through to the tower and up the long staircase to the viewing gallery. In the darkness, the light from the lantern above their heads reflected down into the room and shadows moved slowly across the floor.

He took off his jacket, undoing the buttons on his waistcoat and loosening his tie. The epitome of an English gentleman, with the manners to match, and wicked, dark blue eyes. Fleur wanted him so much that she could hardly breathe.

“I noticed you haven’t had a drink all night. Would you like something now?” He caught her hand, bringing it up to his lips.

“Yes, thank you.”

“I’ll be back in a tick.”

However long a tick was... Apparently not that long, although it seemed like an age to be without him. Rick returned with a bottle of champagne, two slender fluted glasses held lightly between his fingers.

They didn’t switch on the lights, there was no need. The moving light above their heads created a soft sweep of luster and shade. The lights of Boston on one side of them and the dark sea on the other. She was right on the edge of the unknown, but as long as she didn’t step out of this bubble, everything would be all right. Rick knew that she was leaving, and she knew that he would never follow her.

Setting the glasses down on a low table that stood next to the sofa, he gave an expert twist of the cork and it popped loudly. Then he poured the champagne, handing one glass to Fleur and putting his arm around her waist.

“What shall we drink to?”

To plans? Fleur had enough of those, but none of them included staying on Maple Island. To home? She couldn’t share in Rick’s longing to make this place his home.

“To...tonight.” Just that. A sweet interlude in their lives.

“Yes. Tonight is good.”

The regret in his eyes mirrored her own feelings but his tenderness chased that away. Tonight they were free to do anything they wanted. Rick touched his glass against hers, and they both took a sip of champagne to seal the bargain.

He kissed her again, his lips warm against hers, his hand motionless on her back. Rick was waiting for her to set the pace.

“Rick, I need you to help me.” There was no tactful way of putting this. “The leaflet that was in my discharge pack, about having sex after a knee and hip injury... I didn’t read it.”

“That’s okay. I know what it says.” He kissed her. “Want me to run you through the salient points?”

“Yes. That would be good.” Fleur took a swig from her glass, putting it back down onto the table. That hadn’t been as embarrassing as she’d feared.

Reaching into his pocket, he took out a packet of condoms, putting them down on the table next to her glass. Then he pulled a high-backed, armless chair into the center of the room and sat down. His gaze seemed to devour her as he laid his hands on her hips, guiding her onto his lap, her legs straddling his.

“First thing. You feel ready for sex?”

“Very ready.” Fleur kissed him, feeling his lips curve into a smile against hers.

“That’s a relief. Second thing. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.” It was almost as if they were making love right now. All the wanting, coupled with the start of a slow build-up of excitement. Rick’s free hand moved to the thick padding of her jacket, over her breast, and she caught her breath.

He was whispering in her ear, telling her to move against him. Telling her exactly how much he wanted her, and how beautiful she was to him. His rhythm seemed to blend with the movement of the light above their heads and the roll of the dark sea.

Rick loosened the leather belt around her waist and it dropped to the floor. As he unbuttoned her jacket, she pulled at the buttons of his shirt. She heard him gasp as she let her fingers explore the smooth skin of his chest. He was strong. A ripple of pure power followed the path of her touch.

“You want to do this for real?” His hand slid inside her jacket, and Fleur felt warmth blossoming across her skin.

“It is real, isn’t it?”

She heard him chuckle quietly. “More real than I could ever have imagined.”

* * *

Long before he’d undressed her completely, Fleur had made him hers, stripping him of every last shred of his own will. He existed only to make love to her.


Tags: Annie Claydon Romance