Chapter Twenty-Two
Ophelia
B rann’s lips met Ophelia’s with such intensity it knocked the wind from her, and she couldn’t breathe. She wrapped her arms around him, kneeling on the sofa, and he pulled her close. The heat from his body was incredible.
They’d kissed before, but this was off the charts, deep, hot and urgent. Her lower belly spasmed and a throbbing need for him built inside her.
‘I hate how you’re always on my mind, even when I’m trying to be mad at you,’ Brann muttered into the kiss. She felt his smile.
‘And I hate how you turn me into such a desperate woman.’
With a little laugh, he tucked some stray loops of hair over her shoulder; she slung back her neck, and he kissed it like she was a goddess. He worshipped her some more, igniting fires all over her.
‘Well, who would have thought it?’ He ran a warm palm over her breast, thumbing the nipple through the lacey fabric of her negligee, making her moan. ‘The princess wants a bit of action.’
‘Needs it more like.’
‘Listen.’ His voice turned grave. ‘I’ll do anything you want… Most things anyway, but only if we’re safe. I don’t carry protection on me. You may think I’m the kind of guy who goes out ready for action wherever I am, but I’m really not.’
‘I’ve got three packets of condoms in my make-up bag.’
‘Er… Ok… You’re very well prepared.’
‘My friend Florence bought them last year when we went to Cyprus together. She decided it would be fun to see who had used the most by the time we came back.’
‘Who won?’
‘Neither of us used any. But she’s engaged now, so she’s probably finished her three packets.’
‘Well, you need to make up for lost time.’
‘And I suppose you’re happy to oblige?’
‘No suppose about it.’ He unfastened his belt and unzipped his jeans. ‘That’s better. Things are getting a bit tight in there.’
She lifted her hand to his face, curving it around the sharp cheekbone beneath his stubble, drawing him back to her. Her lips found the corner of his mouth and she spoke against it. ‘I despise how hot and bothered you make me.’
His lips parted, but he didn’t return her kiss. He ran his hands over her shoulders, down her back, and cupped her bottom. Having his strong body surrounding her like this made her thrum with pent up tension.
‘You despise me, do you?’
‘You know I do.’
‘Then we need to do something about that.’
‘Yes, we do. Please, do something about it right now.’ She dropped her forehead to his broad shoulder and rested against it. Her body ached, and only he could ease the tension.
He shifted back, crossed his arms, and pulled off his t-shirt, revealing his toned abs. She traced her fingertip over the celtic knot tattoo on his left arm.
‘I suppose you hate tattoos?’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘Naturally.’
He huffed out a laugh. ‘Wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, tell me, do you want to do this down here or on that rather magnificent bed of yours?’
‘Bed.’
‘There’s something poetic about us christening that mattress together, isn’t there?’
‘Sure is.’ She scrambled to her feet, and he followed, turning off the lights as they got to the stairs.
When they reached the bedroom, he closed the door. The light from the moon was almost dazzling. If she’d been trying to get to sleep, it would have thoroughly annoyed her, but it seemed perfect for this.
She located the condom packets and sat them on the nightstand.
Standing by the window, Brann wrestled off his jeans. Even in silhouette, he looked utterly incredible. She pulled him close, his muscles tightening as she glided her palm over his warm velvet skin. He had a smattering of coarse hair over his hard-planed muscles. She moved her hand lower, exploring the firm ridges of his stomach, then around to his back.
He took in a sharp breath as she slipped her fingertips inside the waistband of his boxers. She pressed herself against him with a moan, feeling everything he had to offer through the flimsy fabric of her negligee.
‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you?’ she said, as his hands framed her face, his rough fingers knotting in her hair and angling her head.
‘You bet.’ He began to ply her with kisses, so strong and sure. It was like being back on the raft, sweeping into the rapids, leaping high, then plunging low, though less stressful and a lot more pleasurable.
She pushed her hand inside his boxers and took hold of him. He groaned as she touched him, still kissing her until her brain was about to combust. The rapids would drown her any second. He caught her by the thighs and lifted her, so she was forced to release him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he carried her to the bed. Lowering her gently, he kept his eyes on her.
‘You’re loathsomely beautiful,’ he said, and she smiled.
He moved in beside her and lifted her negligee, making the throb intensify tenfold.
‘Let’s get this off.’
She obliged, pulling it off and tossing it away. He slipped off his boxers and lay beside her. She pressed against him, kissing him as he ran his hands over her body, cupped her breasts, and used his thumbs to tease her nipples. She was aching for him now.
He wrapped his fingers around her wrists, lifting her arms up high, nudging her onto her back and moving over her. ‘You still think I’m a good guy?’ he murmured against her lips.
She arched against him, trying to ease her desire. ‘Not right now. Right now, you’re very bad.’
‘You don’t like this?’ He linked his fingers through hers, hands over her head.
‘I do, but I need more.’
‘Then more it is.’ He moved his body closer until the heat was intense. His fingers slipped between her legs, gently parting them as he kissed his way down.
‘Oh, god,’ she said. ‘No one’s ever…’
‘I’ll only do it if you want me to.’
‘Do it for god’s sake. I’m dying here.’ She lay back and closed her eyes, only to open them sharply again as his tongue touched her most intimate parts. Were these sensations real? It was too much… But not enough. Holy mother of god. She grabbed hold of his hair and clung to it as the rapids surged around her, carrying her away on a wave of ecstasy.
There was foreplay… and there was Brann. She should have known he’d exceed everything.
‘That good enough to start with?’ He shifted up the bed, moving in beside her.
‘It’ll do.’ She smiled dreamily as she regained her breath, then she pushed him onto his back and straddled him. ‘But I’m not done yet.’
‘I’m very glad to hear it.’ He threw his arms wide, lying fully open, like he was surrendering to her. ‘Because I have lots more for you.’
She leaned over to the nightstand and lifted the condom packet. ‘Give me what you’ve got.’ She handed him a condom and moved so he could put it on.
‘You should have brought that riding crop of yours,’ he said.
‘Is that your kink?’
‘I can definitely see it being yours.’ He pushed himself into a sitting position, slipped his hand around her cheek, and pulled her in for another deep kiss. Her body started to tingle again. Soon she and Brann would be together, utterly and completely. No going back.
He put his hands on her waist and gently lifted her. She eased herself onto him, lower and deeper until they were together. Inexplicably, a wave of emotion swept through her and she let out a little sob. She didn’t mean to. And worse. She might actually cry, though she wasn’t sad.
‘Are you ok?’ Brann said. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s not that.’
‘What then?’ He crossed his hands on her back, pulling her slap against his hard chest. ‘We’re only doing this if you’re ok with it.’
‘I’m ok.’ She held him, savouring the deep heat of his skin on hers and rubbing her cheek on his shoulder. The sensation of him inside her was so all-consuming it overwhelmed her. She needed to hold on to this moment. ‘It just brought it home to me.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That I can’t have you.’
‘You can have me tonight.’
She glanced at him, smiled, then kissed him with an urgency, like it was the last night of the world… and it kind of was. ‘Yes. Tonight, you’re mine.’
‘I am. I give myself to you.’
‘And I’m yours,’ she said. ‘For this night only. We belong to each other. And we’re the perfect fit after all.’
‘We really are.’
‘But once it’s done… That’s it. Yes?’
‘Then let’s make this a night to remember.’ He brought his lips to hers and cupped a hand around her bottom, holding her as he gently thrust. The need inside her built again, and she smiled at him in between kisses.
‘Oh god, Ophelia.’ He let out a groan, thrusting harder and faster. ‘I hate how fucking good you are.’
That was possibly the first time he’d called her by her name, and it sent bolts of crazy desire through her.
‘I’ll never forgive you for how good you make me feel. Ahh…’ She let out a cry as she lost it all over again.
The moon’s position changed as the night went on. It shone through the bedroom window at the boathouse, the only witness to Ophelia and Brann’s night together. Ophelia’s emotions were all over the place, but she buried further tears. Why the hell had she let him see her like that? Not that it had done any harm – or it didn’t seem to have. His empathy and care were as strong as his passion.
He stroked her hair as they lay together in a deep embrace, bodies sated and warm, so entwined Ophelia wasn’t sure where her body ended and his began. His palm moved downward, stroking a rhythmical circle on her back. Scarcely above a whisper, he hummed a soft tune. She heard it more from the vibration of his Adam’s apple, where her head rested, than anything else. At first, she thought it was the tune of ‘Windmills in Your Mind’ but then it wasn’t. Something about it was familiar. Now and then, it took an unexpected course, but always gentle, almost melancholy.
Words joined the melody, barely even whispers. So low, she couldn’t properly make them out. Was he singing in Gaelic?
‘I hate it that I know. That I know it won’t be me. I hate that someone else will take my place right here.’
Ophelia frowned, not sure if he maybe thought she was asleep, and these words were only for him, but the song went on.
‘I hate that I can’t love you the way you should be loved. I hate that we must part and never meet again.’
‘Brann…’
‘Uh-huh?’
‘Are you ok?’
‘We should get some sleep.’ He tightened his hold on her. ‘Would you like me to leave?’
‘No. Please stay. I can’t face the night alone.’
‘Ok,’ he whispered, turning the word into a soft kiss on her forehead. ‘Sleep soundly. You’re safe here.’
I know. This was the safest place in the world. With him. Everything they’d said and done tonight added to her reasons for wanting him. What she hated wasn’t him, just the fact she couldn’t have him, and how much she craved him. Now she knew he felt the same, it was even worse. Words weren’t necessary. She sensed it in everything he did. But it had to stop. She wasn’t meant to be with him. She had to do what was best for Glenvorneth, and sadly that would mean marrying someone who could solve the problems. This was the final fling. Now she had to put it to bed for good.
Her head was heavy, so were her eyes. His chest was warm and his arms strong. She could sleep here.
Someone was moving around. The sound was disturbing, but far away. Ophelia opened her eyes and sat up abruptly. Brann was wandering around the bedroom, picking up his clothes.
‘Are you leaving?’ she asked.
‘I have to.’ He scanned her over.
She jumped out of the bed, not caring she was still completely naked. So was he. Who was to see them out here? Unless Camilla Woodcroft was taking an early morning stroll, had climbed a tree on the other side of the lochan and was sitting with her binoculars out.
Ophelia wrapped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her close. The skin-to-skin contact made her tingle. ‘Do you have to go so soon?’
‘Pretty soon. I’m taking Caitlin to a party this morning.’
‘You’re a good dad.’ Ophelia glided her hand around his cheek.
‘I do my best.’ He gave her a quick peck. ‘Do you mind if I use your shower?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Where are the towels?’
‘I’ll get you one. I could even help wash you if you like.’
He smirked, and she eyed him over. His body had replied even if his mouth hadn’t. ‘How can I refuse?’
She went to the loo in the small en suite while he started the shower in the main bathroom. The towels were in the large closet in the hall, and she fetched two fluffy white ones on her way to join him. On top of them, she laid another condom. Really should message Florence and thank her.
Steam billowed around as she entered.
Brann was swigging mouthwash. He watched her for what seemed like an age, then spat out the mouthwash, rinsed it away and strode towards her. Gently, he nudged her against the wall, caging her with his arms and kissing her until she turned to jelly. His need pressed into her lower tummy, and she couldn’t wait to steal this time with him.
Half an hour passed as they lathered each other in scented shower gel, kissing beneath the huge shower head as if in a tropical rainstorm. Brann brought her to another incredible climax before he reached out and grabbed the condom. Ophelia’s back streaked up the steamy screen as he lifted her. The glass door jangled, registering every rhythmical jolt, the gushing water drowning their unrestrained cries.
All too soon, it was over. Brann was towelling himself dry and pulling on his clothes. Ophelia’s heart was ready to crack, but she’d brought this on herself. She knew this had to stop. It couldn’t go on indefinitely.
‘Listen.’ Brann clamped his hands on her upper arms. ‘If this is as unbearable for you as it is for me, then you know how I’m feeling. I don’t want to leave you like this, alone and cold. We should be curled up together in front of the woodburner downstairs.’ He pulled her to his chest. ‘If I could, I would. I’d love to be that guy, but I can’t be. I’m not your rich man. What I have wouldn’t even buy that giant bed or the fancy bathtub.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, barely able to speak.
‘Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration, obviously. But you know what I mean.’ He drew back, giving her an appraising look. ‘I understand your need to do what you believe is right, and I support that. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it.’
‘Thank you.’ Tears were close again, but she must keep them down at least until he’d gone.
‘Remember, I’m not leaving the country. If you need me for anything, call me. And I don’t mean just for work.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Don’t say anything.’ He bent in and kissed her on the cheek. ‘That was one of the best nights of my life.’ His hand trailed down her arm. ‘Now, I need to go. See you sometime.’
‘Yeah… And Brann.’
He was heading for the door.
‘Uh-huh?’
‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’
He was on the doorstep, ready to leave.
‘No one will ever hear about it from me. Now, I really must go.’ He was across the driveway in the van. Going down the track. Gone.
Ophelia stood at the door and breathed. A solitary tear fell from her eye, and she pushed it away. She had to battle through this and keep going. Crying over spilt milk wouldn’t help. Brann was only ever going to be a fling. Now she’d had it, and it was over.
Perhaps the best way to stop herself from thinking was to go somewhere she’d be distracted. Her first thought was to take a ride, but if she went off on Conker, she’d start thinking and overthinking.
She got into her car and drove down the track towards the main house. Picking a fight wasn’t a good idea in her current mood, but Jacinta’s handling of the situation with Sean still irritated her.
The grandfather clock chimed as she entered the hallway. Why did it always feel deserted here? She made her way along the hallway and into the drawing room. No one was there, so she headed down to the kitchen. Before she got close, she heard Jacinta talking and other voices. The door was open, and Ophelia marched in, coming face to face with her father, Jacinta, Xander and Sean.
‘You’re still here?’ she said to Sean.
‘Yeah. I’m staying with Xander.’
Ophelia shook her head. How unbelievable that this boy she’d met once had the audacity to think she’d consider dating him, especially when he behaved like a twat.
‘I think you’re being a little unreasonable to the lad,’ Rupert said with a smile.
‘Of course you do. Unfortunately, I don’t find his actions endearing. Also, the age difference is disturbing for me. I’m not interested in anyone that much younger than me.’
‘That’s a bit narrowminded. Look at Jacinta and I. We wouldn’t be together if I discarded everyone younger than me.’
‘Yes, but we all know that women mature a lot faster than most men and I don’t have time to waste waiting for them to catch up.’
Jacinta made a weird nasal sound, like she was trying to clear dust from her nose. ‘You’ve wasted quite a bit of time this year,’ she said. ‘Look at what you did to poor James.’
‘I did nothing to him. And if you want to discuss this, then fine, but not here and not with those two as an audience.’ She nodded at Xander and Sean.
Xander shrugged like he didn’t have a care in the world; his face had the same easy arrogance as his mother. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Xander,’ Ophelia added. ‘I have to thank you. Your efforts to set me up with someone were very thoughtful. Next time you get the urge though, maybe you should look for someone for Francesca.’
‘Hang on,’ Jacinta said. ‘She’s too young to be dating someone their age. I don’t want any of that.’
‘Don’t be narrowminded, remember.’ Ophelia flicked her a look, then turned back to Xander. ‘Though it’s probably best if you keep away from matchmaking altogether,’
‘Sure. Whatever.’ He clapped Sean on the back. ‘Let’s get out of this dusty old cavern and back to the fun.’
Jacinta flapped after her son, saying goodbye.
Rupert drummed his fingers on the table as though not sure what to say. ‘Lovely weather for the time of year.’
The weather? Ophelia almost rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, yeah. It’s wonderful.’
Jacinta returned. ‘I wish you hadn’t shooed him off. I hardly ever get to see him these days.’
‘It was his choice.’
‘What is it you want to talk about anyway?’ Jacinta muttered, picking up plates and ramming them into the dishwasher.
‘We need to establish some rules. If you get the urge to set me up with someone again, then I might be up for meeting them, but none of this forgone conclusion stuff or telling people we’re already dating. If I’m committing to it, I want it to be with someone I like and respect. Not someone thrust upon me, or who the two of you have already told the world is your future son-in-law.’
Jacinta rolled her eyes at Rupert, who was wearing a somewhat shocked expression. Ophelia knew it well – the one where he tried to deny he’d ever done anything of the sort.
‘With hindsight, James was actually ok,’ she went on. ‘We just weren’t a good fit for each other.’ Unbidden, an image of her and Brann locked together in her bed sprang into her mind. Quickly, she hustled it out. ‘Sean most certainly was not ok. Do you realise what might have happened if he’d been waiting for me when I went home last night?’
‘He said he didn’t mean any harm,’ Rupert said.
‘I wouldn’t have known that. I might have knocked him out before he had the chance to explain.’
‘Fair point. I admit, he wasn’t a good choice.’
‘So, no more. You can introduce people to me, but with no expectations. Understood?’
‘Loud and clear,’ Rupert said. Jacinta turned away and was doubtless rolling her eyes.
‘Who is Brian, by the way?’ Rupert furrowed his brow. ‘Sean kept talking about some man called Brian you were out with at a dinner dance, who’s apparently now working as a builder here.’
She stared into the near distance, willing this conversation to go away. ‘Sounds like he’s got his facts all muddled. I don’t know anyone called Brian.’
‘Very odd,’ Rupert said.
‘Who were you at the dance with?’ Jacinta asked with a slight raise of her eyebrow.
‘Friends. And none of them were called Brian.’
‘Well,’ Jacinta said. ‘I was talking to the Countess of Dairvin the other day.’ She paused, no doubt waiting for Ophelia to swoon at the name drop. When she didn’t, Jacinta went on, ‘She told me about a very eligible young man by the name of Rafe Harrington.’
Ophelia recalled the countess mentioning him before, but she sighed. Jacinta had a one-track mind.
‘He lives in Glasgow, but his roots are here. I wonder if he might be the man.’
Ophelia held up her hand. ‘I told you, no more. If the chance to meet him comes up, then fine, but I don’t want to be out somewhere tomorrow only to hear rumours I’m engaged to this man before I’ve even met him.’
‘Fine. Whatever.’
But how could she? Even looking at other men made her ill. The only man she wanted to see was Brann. The one man she couldn’t have.