Chapter 5
She stumbled, trying to regain her balance as he let go of her. The gravel crunched beneath her shoes; the sound ominously loud in the quiet forest. The air was thick with tension, and the cabin loomed ahead like a dark specter of their unresolved issues.
He did not speak another word until he fished the key from the flowerpot (She had no idea people still did that!). Shoving the plain red door open, he stepped back and allowed her to precede him inside. It was a large open area, with a big enough fireplace.
The fire blazing in the hearth emitted a warmth and coziness that was immediately felt. Pulling her coat around her protectively, she walked into the living area and stood by the fire, waiting for him to resume the argument. She stood there watching as he paced in a tight circle, his brow furrowed.
Shoving his hands into the pocket of his black dress pants, he came to a stop in front of her, eyes wandering over her face.
The silence stretched, weighted with unspoken words, and simmering resentment. She could feel her heart racing, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her coat tighter. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low as if he was trying to hold onto his temper.
“I was warned not to marry you.”
She jolted at that, her heart quivering. The hurt of his unexpected comment had her lifting her chin, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had pierced her.
“You can always divorce me.”
His eyes flashed. “Divorce? You want to be careful how you throw out that word.”
“What do you want me to do? Grovel and beg you not to leave?” Her anger mounted as she faced him squarely. “If you want to go, if you feel as if you have made a mistake, then let me make it easy for you…” She started to tug at the rings, gasping when his hand clamped over hers crushingly.
“I should have listened.” He continued harshly, eyes blazing. “I should have waited before begging you… Yes! Damn you! I begged you to marry me. And that gave you the power. Leave?” His fingers tightened even more.
“I cannot leave! You have me wrapped around your little finger. I cannot stop wanting you. It is like a sickness inside me. The first time I laid eyes on you; I wanted to make you mine.” He flung her hand away and resumed his pacing.
Blair watched him, eyes tracking his movements, her heart in a turmoil. Their first encounter and even the ones after that had been volatile to say the least. His words just now had her feeling weak. But she was careful not to say anything to set him off even more.
Blair took a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside her. The crackling of the fire was the only sound in the room as she watched him struggle with his own storm. The weight of his confession hung between them, heavy and potent.
"I didn't ask for this," she said quietly, her voice trembling despite her efforts to keep it steady. "I didn't ask for you to feel this way, for either of us to feel this way. But here we are."
He stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. For a moment, the anger and frustration seemed to dissipate, replaced by something raw and genuine.
"Here we are," he echoed, his voice softer, almost defeated. "What do we do now, Blair?"
She shook her head, her gaze dropping to the fire. "I don't know, but we can't keep tearing each other apart like this. It is not fair to either of us."
He stared at her for several ticking minutes and felt the emotions storming through his body. The first time he laid eyes on her, something passed between them.
He had felt the prickle of awareness that was so potent, he had almost made a fool of himself, right then and there. He, who had always been able to go in and out of a relationship without looking back had finally met someone he could not say goodbye to.
He had been bold and charming, trying to get her into bed. He had invited her back into the café for another cup of coffee and she had refused. He had then persisted and followed her until he became her unofficial guide. But to his constant frustration, she had refused to sleep with him.
At first, he had thought that as soon as he had sex with her, his life would resume, that he would go back to being the person he was before he met her. But he had underestimated her influence on him. Just kissing her had blown him away. After that, it had been impossible for him to keep his hands off her.
And he had bloody well tried, determined that no woman would ever hold that much control over him. But she had and still did. Even after five years, she still had the power to twist him inside out.
Turning away, he walked over to the window, broad shoulders hunched.
Easing out of the strappy sandals that were pinching her toes, she lowered herself into the chair next to the hearth and stretched her legs out. And waited. She could tell he was tormented.
That had always been a bane of contention between them – the feelings, and emotions. They had rushed into marriage after just a month of meeting each other. When she realized who he was, she had been horrified and had tried to end things, but he would not let her.
But by that time, it had been too late for her. She had fallen for him. She who had always been so sensible and pragmatic, had fallen for a man who looked like a movie star and was from one of the most powerful families in the world. They defined wine and were Italian royalty.
She was a simple schoolteacher – the only excitement had been this trip to Italy and one to the UK during a package outing that her school had sponsored. She lived with her dad, unwilling to leave him on his own after her mom died and the house was large enough so they could both have their space, if needed.
As she sat there, the warmth of the fire seeping into her bones, memories of their tumultuous relationship flooded her mind.
His relentless pursuit, their whirlwind romance, the passion that had ignited between them - it all seemed like a distant dream now. She had been so naive, so unprepared for the intensity of his love, and the complications that came with it.
He finally turned to face her, eyes going to her bare feet and the shoes dumped next to the chair. Memories swamped him. The first time they had spent together in his suite, how tidy she had been, picking up after herself even though he had reminded her that they had people who did that sort of thing.
“I am not used to having someone picking up after me,” she had protested.
Her disappointment when she could not use their kitchen to prepare meals for them. He had indulged her several times and had relished the absolute joy on her lovely face when she puttered around in the kitchen.
He could not stay mad at her. Just looking at her sitting there, with that sense of vulnerability about her was making him weak. Shrugging out of his suit jacket, he laid it carefully over the arm of the sofa and walked towards her with deliberate slowness.
He was still mad, the anger raw inside him, but for now, he wanted her with an intensity that was bordering on insanity.
His steps echoed in the silence of the room, the tension palpable, almost tangible. As he approached, she looked up, her eyes reflecting a mixture of apprehension and longing.
He stopped a few feet away, his gaze locking onto hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The air seemed to thrum with the unspoken words, the unresolved emotions that had built up over the years.
He knelt in front of her, his hands resting on her knees, and she felt the warmth of his touch seep through the fabric of her dress. "I can't keep doing this," he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. "I can't keep pretending that I don't need you."
She reached out, her fingers brushing the stubble on his jaw, and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. "Then don’t.”
Green eyes sizzled and sent shivers up and down her spine. His touch burned through the flimsy fabric like paper. Her breath hitched and her heart started its irregular beating. He could always undo her with just a look and right now was no exception.
With a muttered oath, he lifted her in his arms and carried her out of the room.
He carried her up the stairs, each step he took echoing in the quiet house, and pushed open the door to their bedroom.
The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting a silvery glow over the room. He gently laid her on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.
Her fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one with a delicate yet urgent grace. As she pushed the fabric off his shoulders, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was at once tender and demanding.
It was as if all their pent-up emotions, the anger, the longing, the love, were poured into that kiss, binding them together in a way that words never could.
He broke away, his lips trailing down her neck, eliciting a soft moan from her. She arched into him, her hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. It was a dance they knew well, a dance of passion and desire, of love and need.
Each touch, each caress, was a reaffirmation of what they shared, what they had fought for, and what they had lost and found again.
The argument was far from being resolved, they both knew it, but for now, the passion consuming them was all that matters. And it had to be dealt with. Had to be appeased.
The beast inside him was raging to be let loose. As it had been since she stripped away the jacket and the dress was revealed.
Desire and fury had waged a way inside him, until he felt as if he was boiling from the residue. He yanked the material barely covering her breasts and made a sound deep inside his throat like a man dragging in his last breath.
He ripped the cloth in his haste to get more of her and felt his body quivering when she arched and offered the breast for him to feast on.
The sounds coming from her, animal passion, moans filling the room was enough to drive him insane!
His teeth grazed her skin, sending electric shocks through her, and she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders. The room seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them, a whirl of sensations and emotions. Their connection was primal, raw, a testament to the depth of their bond.
He removed the last barrier of clothing, his hands skimming down her body and lingering on her flat stomach. Lifting his head, he met her gaze, for the moment, his expression unguarded and filled with such promise and love that it had the tears burning at the back of her throat.
Bending his head, he worshipped her flesh, using tongue and teeth until she felt as if she was going blind from intense need.
The first time he had gone down on her, the very first time for her, she had been shy and horrified and had tried to stop him. With laughing ease, he had brushed away her timidity and took her to such levels of passion, she thought she had died.
It had taken her months to be comfortable with such intimacy and even longer to return the favor. Over time, she had gotten bolder, when she realized that there was no pretense, that she really had a powerful hold over him. And that her touch was enough to send him over the edge.
Parting her thighs, he settled between them, hands lifting her towards his mouth. A ragged sigh escaped her and turned into fevered moans as he brought her to the brink of madness.
His tongue stroked her slowly, lavishing her with the familiar emotions that she had never understood or quite got used to. The climax washed through her like quicksilver, lifting her trembling body closer.
Moving away, just enough so that he could rid himself of his clothing, he covered his body with hers, sliding into the wetness that closed around him like a tight wet fist. He stayed still for a few seconds, head bent towards her, his breath stirring her skin.
He brushed her lips against hers slowly, back and forth, deliberately holding back, his large body was shuddering, his heart racing until it was drowning out everything else. Then he moved. Driving into her with a precision that also deliberate. She shattered him. Being with her like this made him forget everything else.
As their bodies moved in harmony, the world outside ceased to matter. Every kiss, every touch was a declaration, a promise of their undying devotion. The intensity of their passion was almost overwhelming, but it was also liberating, a release of all the tensions and uncertainties that had plagued them.
Time lost its meaning; they were suspended in a moment of pure ecstasy. Her cries of pleasure mingled with his groans, creating a symphony of love and desire. The moonlight continued to bathe them in its ethereal glow, witnessing the fervent reunion of two souls who had found their way back to each other.
Finally, exhausted and sated, they collapsed into each other's arms, their breaths ragged. The room was filled with the soft sounds of their contentment, a stark contrast to the earlier fervor. They lay entwined, heartbeats gradually slowing, the warmth of their bodies a comforting reminder of their union.
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and kissed her forehead tenderly. "We still have a lot to talk about," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with a newfound softness. She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips.
"But for now," she murmured, "let's just be here, together."
The air around them was thick with the lingering essence of their passion. As they lay there, enveloped in the quiet aftermath, their minds began to wander, reflecting on the journey that had brought them to this moment.
It had been a path filled with twists and turns, heartaches, and triumphs, but through it all, they had remained steadfast in their love for each other.
His fingers traced idle patterns on her back, each touch a silent reaffirmation of his commitment. "We've come so far," he said softly, his voice barely more than a breath against her ear.
She smiled, the curve of her lips gentle and serene. "And we have so much more to look forward to," she replied, her own hand moving to rest over his heart, feeling the steady, reassuring beat beneath her palm.
They fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts yet perfectly attuned to the other's presence. The moonlight still streamed through the window, casting a silver sheen over their entwined forms, as if blessing their union.
Minutes gave way to hours, and the quiet night cradled them in its embrace, a promise of the many tomorrows yet to come.
Eventually, sleep began to claim them, their bodies sinking deeper into the mattress, limbs still entangled. As her eyes fluttered closed, she felt his lips against her temple, a final, tender kiss before they surrendered to the peaceful oblivion of dreams.
*****
Nothing was resolved. She knew it the minute she woke up the next morning. The sun was streaming through the thick red drapes when she opened her eyes. Last night had not been a figment of her imagination. She could still feel the faint bruises, the pressure and soreness of her nipples and the tenderness between her legs.
It had been real. The lovemaking had been tumultuous as usual. He had whispered raw and potent words in her ear as he drove himself to the hilt inside her. She had responded in kind, holding him against her desperately, calling out his name in a fit of passion. And she had left her own bruises on his chest and back.
He was not lying next to her. She had fallen asleep with his arms wrapped tight around her – while she nestled against his chest. But this morning the bed was cold, indicating that he had risen some time ago.
It dawned on her that they had not spoken about her present situation. She had told him she was pregnant, and he had not said anything except angry words. Her heart shuddered as she also recalled that he had said he was not on board with the pregnancy. Where did that leave them? She wondered dismally.
She was just climbing out of bed when he opened the door and stepped in. her heart did the familiar somersault as she stared at his raw masculinity. He had shed the jacket and tie. The two top pearl buttons were undone, giving her a glimpse of his strong throat.
His dense dark hair was tousled as if he had spent some time raking it with his fingers. The tail of his shirt was outside his pants, but aside from that, he was fully dressed.
His eyes lingered on her delightful dishevelment. Her hair was tangled, her eyes still sleepy and sexy as hell. Her lips were swollen from the hungry kisses he had enjoyed last night. She had drawn the covers up over her breast, but he could still see the imprint of her nipples. Desire stirred inside him but was ignored.
“I was hoping you were awake. We have to leave.” His voice was cool and formal, causing her heart to sink. “I have an urgent meeting with some associates from overseas. I had completely forgotten that I promised to show them the vineyard in California. I put your jacket on the bedpost.’ He jerked his head towards it.
“And your shoes are right here. I am afraid the dress is completely ruined.” His mouth twisted slightly. “No great loss there. I made coffee for myself, and I am guessing that it is tea for you?”
“Yes.” So, he was not going to mention the pregnancy. Well, then- tamping down the hurt, she slid her legs off the bed and reached for the jacket.
He stood there for a few seconds as if trying to decide whether to say anything else and then without a word, turned and left the room.
Fighting the tears, she slipped on the jacket and buttoned it up. The good thing about it was that it provided warmth and was able to cover most of her body. They were going back to the manor where, no doubt, the staff would be awake, if not the family and she just wanted the chance to slip into their suite unnoticed.
He was in the kitchen drinking his coffee and standing at the window when she entered.
“The tea is on the counter.” He did not turn around but continued to stare out the window. “The trip last night was hasty, and I did not get the chance to alert the caretakers of our arrival. Hence the empty cupboards.”
He turned around then, his expression carefully schooled. He looked so detached that she wondered if it was the same man who had unleashed such passion on her last night. The same one who had called out her name in the throes of ecstasy.
“We could stop somewhere if you’re hungry.”
She shook her head and went to pick up the cup of tea she did not want.
“I love you.” He said abruptly, expression bleak. “Whatever else is between us, I want you to remember that.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
He smiled grimly. “For now, yes.”
She swallowed hard, feeling the words, she wanted to say lodge in her throat like a stone. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken feelings and unresolved issues. Her fingers tightened around the cup, seeking some form of comfort from the warm ceramic.
Tossing back the rest of the coffee, he put the cup away. “I will be out in the car.”