Chapter Fifteen
The end of the wedding breakfast signalled the time for the younger children to be whisked away home by their families, for the adults to take some time to freshen up, and for some to change into their evening wear.
Several of the rooms on the first floor had been opened for the guests to use.
Cassie and Lisa had left their bags and evening dresses in Room 11, as had Julia, Debbie and her mum, and several of the other women.
It made for quite a crush, but everyone was happy to work around each other.
Lisa threw herself on the bed.
“Oh boy. I’m full up to here.” She indicated her forehead.
“I really shouldn’t have had that crème br?lée.”
“Which is why you all but licked the plate.”
Lisa laughed.
“It was pretty scrummy. Ah, here’s my little Munchkin!” She bounced up as Shelley came into the room carrying Kyra.
Taking the baby, she kissed the top of her head.
“Thank you so much, Shelley. You’re a godsend!”
“It’s no trouble, honestly,” the girl assured her.
“She was as good as gold. She slept most of the time.”
“Ah, you’re a little angel, aren’t you?” Lisa blew a raspberry on the baby’s forehead, making her gurgle with laughter and kick her feet.
“She’s a good little thing,” Cassie remarked.
“You’re lucky she takes after you rather than me!”
“Aren’t I?”
“Don’t get smug,” Cassie warned.
“Wait till she gets big enough to argue back.”
“Oh, she’s so pretty,” one of Vicky’s cousins cooed.
“She looks just like you.”
“Thanks.” Lisa’s smile glowed with maternal pride.
“I’ll give her a quick feed now,” she added to Shelley.
“That should keep her happy for a few more hours. We won’t be leaving later than ten.”
“That’s fine.”
She settled in the armchair, Kyra snuggled contentedly in her arms.
Cassie sat down at the dressing table to brush her hair and touch up her makeup ready for the evening.
“Did Noah go off all right?”
“Yes. I think he was pretty tired, and his granddad has promised he can watch Pirates before he goes to bed.”
Cassie laughed.
“Dad sure knows how to deal with kids.”
“Just as well, since he’s been teaching them for over forty years!”
They all managed to get changed and ready, weaving around each other as if in a well-choreographed dance.
“Oh, that’s beautiful!” Julia gazed in admiration as Cassie took her dress out of the garment bag she had hung up in the wardrobe.
“It’s really your colour.”
“Thanks.” She shook it out, making the long silk-chiffon skirt swirl.
She’d bought it on that shopping trip to Exeter, to wear tonight, but then she’d worn it at the charity ball with Dougie.
She’d garnered a lot of compliments that night too.
It was a rich emerald green, with a close-fitting bodice which left one shoulder bare.
She shimmied into it, and Julia zipped it up for her.
“There. You’ll knock him dead!”
“Who?” Oh lord, did she know?
Julia grinned mischievously.
“Whoever you like!”
Cassie focused her attention on clipping a gold chain around her neck.
It had been a present from Dougie for her twenty-fifth birthday — he loved giving presents.
Every few links had a dainty rosette attached to it, which gleamed against her skin.
Lisa had finished feeding the baby.
She sat her up and rubbed her back until she burped loudly, looking slightly astonished at her own achievement.
“There’s a clever girl!” She kissed her little button nose, and handed her back to Shelley.
“She might need a fresh nappy in a little while,” she warned.
“That’s okay, I’ll see to it.”
“You’re a gem. Okay, peeps. Let’s hit the dance floor.”
Downstairs in the ballroom the tables had been rearranged around the walls, the lights had been dimmed and a three-piece band had taken the small stage.
As they started to play, the happy couple led off the dancing.
“Don’t they look lovely together?” Cassie murmured to Lisa.
“And Tom won’t tread on her toes. He’s actually quite a decent dancer.”
“Mike’s dancing with Debbie’s mum. They look good together too.”
“He’s a good dancer. He and his wife used to go ballroom dancing — they won a couple of competitions. She died a couple of years ago — she was Kate’s best friend.”
“Oh yes — I remember you telling me that. It was so sad.”
The dance floor was filling up.
“Look at Paul,” Lisa remarked.
“Straight in on the bridesmaid.”
Cassie rolled her eyes.
“Typical. How long has it been since he split with . . . What was her name?”
“I don’t remember.” Lisa laughed dryly.
“He’s had so many girlfriends I lose track. At least he’s keeping her happy. When I heard Vicky had let her be her bridesmaid I was a bit worried she might make trouble.”
“Oh?”
“She’s a bit . . . Well, she was sleeping with Vicky’s ex-fiancé — while they were still engaged.”
“The bitch! It was very forgiving of Vicky to let her come.”
“Family,” Lisa concluded wryly.
“Anyway, I think Tom tipped Paul off to take care of her. He’d have been more than happy to oblige, I’m sure — she’s very pretty.”
“And she’ll be gone in a couple of days — perfect for him.”
“So long as he doesn’t fall for her. I don’t think I’d fancy having her in the family.”
Cassie shot her a look of surprise.
“Do you think there’s any danger of that?”
They shared a smile.
“No chance! Let’s dance.”
* * *
The evening was winding down.
Slices of wedding cake had been distributed, along with coffee or champagne, to taste.
Liam preferred whisky.
He had retreated to a corner of the bar, out of the way, where he could watch the dancing and be alone with his thoughts.
Okay — where he could watch Cassie.
She was looking good, her hair gleaming like polished mahogany, that elegant green dress — the colour of her eyes — swirling around her ankles as she danced.
She’d been dancing all evening, fizzing with energy, laughing with one partner after another.
At least she wasn’t staying with one, and at least that Australian Adonis wasn’t here.
With Tom and Vicky’s wedding over, would she be going back to him?
He had wanted to ask her about that when they had gone out riding, especially after the way she had spoken with such enthusiasm about her adventures.
But he really hadn’t wanted to hear the answer.
Or was he giving in too easily, letting the guy win without even putting up a fight?
That wasn’t like him — even though he would be fighting the Great Barrier Reef and surfing on Straddie Island, as well as a billionaire who owned a string of water-sports resorts and looked like a Greek god.
Dammit!
At least he could dance with her.
He finished his whisky in one swallow and put the glass down on the bar.
But as he rose to his feet there was a commotion and a general move towards the double doors which lead out to the reception hall.
Of course — Tom and Vicky were getting ready to leave.
They had changed out of their wedding finery into something more comfortable.
They were going home for tonight.
Tomorrow they would be off to Spain for their honeymoon, and a visit to the Pradora to see the portrait of Vicky’s Aunt Molly, which had been painted by her lover, a famous Spanish artist.
As they came down the stairs, all the guests gathered to see them off.
They certainly looked happy.
Vicky looked as if she was dancing on air, hugging and kissing everyone, thanking them for coming as she said goodbye, and Tom was grinning like the cat who’d got the cream.
He wanted that — the connection with one woman who would always be there beside him.
Like his parents, like Luke and Julia, like Cassie’s parents.
He had had it with Natalie — could he have it again?
With Cassie?
Was there a chance that she might change her mind, and stay?
The progress of the bride and groom was slow to the front step where the white Beauford was waiting, decked out with balloons and tin cans, and rude messages scrawled on the windows in shaving cream.
Tom hooted with laughter at the sight of it.
“Did you do that?” he asked Liam.
“I’m saying nothing!” He slapped his friend warmly on the shoulder.
“Cheerio, mate. Have a good trip.”
“I will.” He put his hand in his pocket.
“We’ve cleared out the room, but I forgot to give this back. Drop it off at the desk for me, would you?”
“Sure.” Liam took the key card and put it in his own pocket.
Bubbles were blown, drifting on the warm evening air, then the car drove off amid cheers and waving, and at last everyone went back inside.
The music started up again, but when Liam glanced around for Cassie, she had already been claimed for a dance by a cousin of Vicky’s.
“Come on, Liam.” His sister-in-law caught his arm and tugged him onto the crowded floor.
He conceded with an easy smile as the DJ began to play a lively song, perfect for a jive.
He liked dancing with Julia.
She moved easily, following his lead and laughing as she spun out and back.
But forced to pay attention to swinging her around without tipping her over, he lost sight of Cassie.
When the song ended and he glanced around she was nowhere in sight.
A small stab of panic clenched in his gut.
Surely she hadn’t gone home already?
If she was planning to go back to Australia soon, he may not even get a chance to speak to her before she left.
Dammit, he couldn’t deny it any longer — he was in love with her.
* * *
It had grown dark outside.
Cassie wandered over to the stone balustrade to gaze out over the bay.
The moon was almost full, the stars were bright points against the velvet darkness, the sea an inky black.
The tide was high, the waves lapping with a soft hush right up to the rocks below, mingling with the sound of music from the ballroom behind her and the distant jangling of the amusement arcade down on the Esplanade.
Further along, the pub windows glowed orange.
When the door opened, the sounds of music and laughter spilled out, carrying on the warm evening breeze.
Across the bay, the line of Cliff Road was traced with street lights.
Near the top she could see her house — there was a light on in her parent’s bedroom.
Beyond, a few lights up on the caravan site showed that people up there were still awake.
As she stood there, breathing in the soft, salt-tanged air, she became aware of someone behind her.
She didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
“Nice night,” he remarked.
“It is.”
“Not dancing?” He moved to stand beside her — it felt as if there was some kind of forcefield between them, like static electricity.
“Just having a break.”
“You haven’t danced with me.”
She turned her head to glance up at him.
“You haven’t asked me.”
“I’m asking now.” He smiled down at her, that beguiling smile that she had always remembered, even when she had been on the other side of the world.
“Will you dance with me?”
She didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
She just slid into his arms, closing her eyes and letting him move her to the music.
It was a classic soul number that she had always loved.
Out here with Liam, on the terrace in the moonlight, with the music spilling from the ballroom and the soft whisper of the waves at the bottom of the cliff .
.
.
it felt as if this was where she had always belonged.
Oh lord, she was in love with him.
She really was.
In truth, she had been for all these years.
How could she ever have denied it?
His breath was warm against her hair, then she felt his mouth brush over her temple, her trembling eyelids.
Something was tightening in the pit of her stomach.
He was going to kiss her .
.
.
His mouth met hers, his lips warm, tender, coaxing hers apart, his tongue sliding sensuously between them, seeking the sweet depths within.
Time slid away as the stars turned overhead.
She was curving her body against his, vividly aware of the rising need in him which matched her own.
Tenderness was forgotten.
The heat in his kiss was fuelling the heat in her blood, and she could feel the ragged drag of his breathing, the rapid beat of his heart.
His hands had tangled in her hair, but there was no need for him to hold her captive — she had been his captive since that summer ten long years ago.
Maybe it was moments, maybe it was hours before he lifted his head.
Gazing up into his eyes she read the question there.
There could be only one answer.
“Remember our secret beach?” Her voice was a husky whisper.
“I’ve never forgotten.”
“Nor have I.” She glanced down over the stone balustrade.
“It’s high tide.” A hint of regret.
“It’ll be under water.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He smiled slowly, a promise, and put his hand in his pocket.
“I have a better idea.” He drew out a key card.
“What . . . ?”
“It’s the room Tom and Vicky were using. Tom asked me to hand it in to reception, but I hadn’t got around to it yet.”
“Oh . . .” Her breath jerked in her lungs.
All she could think of was the way he had kissed her, and how much she wanted him.
“Well, that would be . . . a lot more comfortable than the beach.”
“It would.”
He held out his hand to her, and she placed hers in it.
Together they slipped through the doors and across reception, swift and silent, laughing as they ran up the stairs to the first floor.
Up here all was quiet — everyone was downstairs in the ballroom.
Suite 10 was the first door at the top of the stairs.
As Liam drew her over to it she felt the craziness spiralling through her.
She hadn’t intended for this to happen — it was the last thing she had expected.
But as he spun her round and crushed her against the door the excitement spiked inside her, sweeping away any uncertainty.
And then he was kissing her again, his mouth hard and hungry.
And she was kissing him back.
This was all she wanted, all she needed.
She heard the scraping as he struggled to fit the key card into the lock, then the door opened and they fell inside, stumbling over their own feet, laughing and breathless.
The elegant sitting room with its stunning view of the bay was wasted on the pair of them.
They didn’t bother to notice the half-empty champagne flutes on the coffee table, the scatter of rose petals that had fallen to the floor.
Somehow they made it to the bedroom, and on to the bed.
Cassie was fumbling frantically to unfasten the buttons of Liam’s shirt as he dragged down the zip of her dress.
As he laid hot kisses on the sensitive column of her throat she twisted herself like a pretzel to unfasten the ankle-straps of her silver sandals and kick them to the floor.
He was shaking with laughter as he drew the dress up over her head, the long flow of the chiffon skirt seeming endless.
“What is this?” he protested.
“A marquee?”
“Rude!” She was laughing too as she fought her way out of the fabric.
“It’s the most expensive dress I’ve ever owned.”
“And a beautiful dress it is too.” His dark eyes gleamed.
“But nothing like as beautiful as what’s underneath.”
With the tip of his finger he traced the lacy edge of her bra, then reached round behind her back to unhook it, casting it aside, his hot gaze scalding her skin as he let it slide over her naked curves.
“You too.” Her voice was husky and impeded, her pulse racing, her fingers fumbling as she unfastened the buttons of his shirt and dragged it back over his shoulders.
She could have returned the compliment as for a long moment they just gazed at each other.
Anticipation was locking her breath, clenching her stomach.
With a growl that was almost feral he bent his head and his mouth claimed hers again, deep and demanding, fierce and hot.
And she responded with equal heat, her tongue sparring sinuousl y with his.
She stroked her hands down his back, feeling the ripple of hard male muscle under her palms, and she moaned softly, her heart fluttering.
Her fingers tangled in his hair as she curved her supple body against his hard length.
Soaring through the air on a bungee rope had nothing on this — wild, out of control.
His hands were rough, impatient, as they slid down over her smooth skin.
His kisses were tracing a scalding path down the long column of her throat and into the hollow behind her collar bone as her hard white teeth bit into his shoulder.
She dragged in a ragged breath, all her senses focused on his touch as he caressed the firm, ripe swell of her aching breast, tormenting the tender nipple, pinching it lightly, rolling it between finger and thumb, sending a spark like static electricity sizzling along her taut-strung nerve-fibres.
And then he bent his head over her ripe breasts, his hot tongue lapping around the exquisitely sensitised peaks, his teeth nipping first at one, then the other, before his lips closed over one, drawing it deep into his mouth as ripples of pleasure flooded through her.
She closed her eyes, losing herself in the magical world he was spinning around her.
This had been all her dreams for the past ten years.
But this was real, and far, far beyond anything she could have dreamed.
His hand slid slowly down over her slim midriff, and her breath caught in her throat as she felt him ease her dainty lace briefs down over her slim thighs.
She barely noticed as he shed his own clothes until seconds later he was as naked as she was, his skin as hot as hers, his breathing as ragged.
She was conscious only of the subtle male scent of his skin, drugging her mind.
His hand was smoothing up over her slim thighs and slipping between, his strong, sensitive fingers coaxing their way into the soft velvet folds hidden beneath the cluster of dark curls at the apex.
His touch was as light as a butterfly’s wing as he found the secret core within and stroked over it.
A gasp became a moan as with exquisite skill he stirred a wave of heat that surged through her veins.
At last she could stand it no longer.
“Now — please.”
He took a few seconds to slide a gossamer sheath onto his hard length, then as she arched beneath him, taking him into her, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, their mouths meeting — fierce, mutually demanding.
After that there was nothing but fire, fast and furious, dangerous.
They moved together in a primitive rhythm — there was no slow, no steady, just a raw hunger, so intense that she felt as if it would consume her.
Molten heat was pooling low in her stomach and pulsing through her veins, dizzying her.
A low, purring growl escaped her throat, and she felt her spine curl as she responded instinctively to his every movement, their bodies melding together as one.
A fever was burning through her as she spun out of control, spiralling higher and dizzyingly higher, until she heard her own voice crying out, felt him tense in her arms, and they fell together, both utterly spent.
* * *
Liam lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling as the first light of dawn crept into the sky.
It wasn’t his ceiling, it wasn’t his bed.
Beside him, Cassie lay sleeping quietly.
It had been an incredible night, with an incredible woman.
He had thought he could never feel like this again.
Love .
.
.
It had seemed like an impossible dream .
.
.
But now the dream was slipping away, reality was seeping back — all the doubts and dilemmas.
Maybe he could somehow persuade her to stay.
But in a few weeks, a few months, would that restless spirit stir again, luring her away?
Maybe this time he could go with her .
.
.
But that thought was dismissed before it was barely formed.
Robyn.
He couldn’t take his little daughter away from all the people she loved — her grandparents, her aunt and uncle, her cousin, her friends.
The home she had known for all her five years.
And then there was Natalie’s parents.
Today was the day he was due to take her for her monthly visit to them.
Losing Natalie had broken their hearts.
He couldn’t do that to them again.
And what if she stayed?
Robyn had adjusted well to losing her mother.
Could he really ask her to make another adjustment — a major one?
It had been just the two of them for the past three years, and they had got along very well.
She liked Cassie, but that was different to having her as a stepmother.
That could confuse her.
What if she felt Cassie had come between them?
What if she resented it?
She could end up hating him, as well as Cassie.
Very carefully, so as not to disturb her sleep, he slipped out of bed and picked up her dress.
Such a lovely dress.
A soft waft of the perfume she had been wearing drifted around him.
Shaking his head with regret, he shook it out and laid it carefully over the back of a chair.
She didn’t stir as he picked up his own clothes and padded through into the lounge, closing the door silently behind him.
Dressing quickly and slipping on his shoes, he strolled over to the French window, opening it to step out onto the small balcony.
The stars were gone.
In the west the sky was still a deep indigo, but in the east it was shading to a pale silvery blue, washed with misty gold, the sea shimmering like mother-of-pearl.
The air was cool.
He breathed in slowly, struggling to clear his head.
Ten years ago he had been shocked, angry, hurt when she had walked away.
Then slowly he had come to realise that it had been the right thing for her to do.
He had been assuming that she wanted the same things he did, that she would be content to spend her life in this small, tucked-away seaside village.
He should have known that she could never be content with that.
And though he had never quite stopped loving her, he had been able to lock that love away in some deep, secret vault in his heart, never to be opened.
Then he had met Natalie.
She had been the complete opposite to Cassie — angelically blonde and dainty, with lovely blue eyes and the sweetest smile, and a quiet, gentle nature.
Who wouldn’t love her?
And he had, truly and sincerely, thanking whatever stars guided his fate that he had found her.
Losing her had torn him apart.
And now .
.
.
Could he risk his heart again?
For himself, maybe.
But for Robyn, a little girl who had lost her mother — no.
And she had to be his priority.
Nothing else mattered.
A soft sound — the bedroom door opening.
He turned his head.
Cassie was standing in the doorway, wrapped in the hotel’s bathrobe, her hands deep in the pockets.
She didn’t speak.
He wanted to tell her that he loved her.
But how could he say that when there was no future in it?
He felt as if his tongue had turned into a lump of cold concrete, refusing to form any words.
For a long moment she just stared at him, no expression in her eyes.
Then she slowly nodded her head and turned and walked back into the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a firm click.
He dragged in the breath he had forgotten to take.
That was it.
His bridges were burning.
There was nothing left for him to do.
Shaking his head, he moved swiftly across the room and out of the door.
The hotel was silent.
No one was awake yet, not even the domestic staff.
He crossed reception in a few strides, picked up his jacket from where he had left it in the ballroom, and hurried out into the cool morning air.