Chapter Seventeen
Cassie wasn’t expecting to sleep in until nine a.m., and she reached for her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed anything from Jas and her children, relaxing back onto the pillows to enjoy the new images they’d sent.
There was a message from Raf, too, letting her know he’d gone down to the market in town and hadn’t wanted to disturb her.
She sent him a quick reply and put the phone aside.
Sun was shimmering through the white curtains, and she hurried out of bed to open the doors onto her patio and welcome the day.
Mornings at home were usually frantic ones, time somehow seeming to slip away twice as fast as she’d got ready for work and seen Isla and Rory off to school.
Here it was so different, the grass damp underfoot, the path around the pool already hot beneath her bare feet.
The water looked so inviting, shimmering against blue tiles reflecting the sky, and she threw a glance at the closed kitchen door, the empty terrace.
Really she ought to go back for her swimsuit and suncream, but the house was silent and Raf was at the market.
She was alone, and she’d only be in the pool a few minutes.
She swiftly removed her white silk camisole pyjamas before she changed her mind.
She walked down the steps, the water delightfully cool.
She’d skinny-dipped plenty in the past and it was wonderfully freeing to swim naked now.
But she had no idea when he would be back, and Cassie didn’t want to get caught out.
Not after last night, and how they’d parted.
She left the pool and stood beneath the outdoor shower, rinsing the chlorine away.
Already the sun was hot, and she tipped her head back, shaking the water from her hair.
Her pyjamas were on a lounger, so she darted across the terrace, leaving wet footprints on the path.
She grabbed them and pulled the shorts on, hopping in her haste, and dragged the top over her head just as the bi-fold doors opened and Raf stepped out.
There was nowhere to hide, not unless she dived straight back in the pool.
She faced him nonchalantly, trying to pretend that her pyjamas weren’t already soaking and clinging to every curve.
‘Morning. I hope I didn’t wake you. So how did you…’ The shopping bags slid from his hands and crashed onto the terrace. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise you were… Er, that you…’
‘Have been swimming,’ she finished for him, gesturing to the pool as though he might wonder where.
‘In your pyjamas?’ Aviators covered his eyes, but she didn’t need to see behind them to recognise his distraction as a muscle flickered in his cheek. He’d seen her in a bikini not that long ago and this wasn’t much different. Except that her bikini hadn’t become transparent when it got wet.
‘I didn’t bring a towel. Or my swimsuit.’ Her tongue felt strange in her dry mouth and she swallowed.
‘Right.’ Raf was staring at the shopping around his feet as though trying to remember how it had got there.
‘It was too nice not to,’ she continued hastily, trying to estimate how many strides it would take to leg it to her room and safety. ‘I thought you weren’t here.’
‘I wasn’t. I went to the market,’ he muttered, bending to gather some of the shopping. Cassie felt she ought to help, except… ‘But now I’m back.’
‘So I see. I’m sorry I missed it. The market, I mean.’
‘You could come with me tomorrow.’
‘I’d love to. So I’d better go and… change.
’ She raced back across the grass to her room.
A glance in the mirror revealed wide eyes with dilated pupils and nipples perfectly outlined by the white silk.
She might as well have been standing before him naked, and if he’d returned a few minutes earlier, then she would…
She shook the thought away. They still had four days and three more nights to get through.
But with every hour they spent alone in this perfect hilltop hideaway, it became more impossible to deny what she felt.
There was desire and longing in every shared look, the meaningful and easy conversations.
The hours spent thinking of him, the truth of his own feelings revealed before they’d said good night.
She understood the pull between them every bit as well as he did, but he was right; she needed time.
Time to decide if she could actually do this, and how she would feel when it was over.
Because she couldn’t have him in her life in every way possible.
Perhaps he was part of her pathway to healing, the first man she had longed for as a single woman, one whose heart was gradually getting used to no longer being a wife.
The sun, this house, the setting, Raf; all were doing their work in helping her mend, slowly loosening her mind from the worries that usually held it firm.
He had promised he would always be there for her children, and she believed him.
There was no reason to doubt it, even if their own relationship had irrevocably changed once this week was over.
So this would be their secret, and she would never reveal it.
In the kitchen he was still putting away shopping when Cassie returned, changed into shorts and a shirt over her swimsuit.
She made coffee, trying not to let her body make obvious the decision she’d made in her room.
Would she really be brave enough to act on it, to let him know how she felt and what she wanted?
Even the silence was screaming at her as they moved around one another.
‘How did you sleep, impromptu music on the terrace notwithstanding? I hope I didn’t keep you awake,’ Raf remarked.
She thought of him playing beside the pool in the moonlight, singing of a lost love, someone far out of reach.
The hours he’d spent in the past teaching himself to play the guitar and then the drums, how music had sustained him through the darkest days.
And then his own story of loss following his break-up all those years ago, and the pain which had sent him around the world on tour time and again as he kept his distance from all that might unbalance him.
She desperately didn’t want him to be hurt again; neither of them deserved it.
‘I slept better after we talked,’ she whispered. ‘Raf, your song, it was beautiful, truly.’ She reached for his hand, and his eyes told her more as she placed it over her heart. ‘I felt it, here.’
He must have felt the racing of her heart, and she caught the catch in his breath as his fingers skimmed her breast. She waited, watching him staring at his hand lying possessively on her chest. Slowly he raised it, her hand over his, until it was at her cheek, and he touched his forehead to hers.
‘I wanted you to hear me, because I wrote it for you,’ he muttered. ‘Writing music is the only way I know how to fully express myself.’
‘Raf, I… That’s so amazing, thank you.’ His hand fell away and hers with it, and she was relieved and sorry all at once. She still needed to take this slow.
‘My pleasure. Let me make you some breakfast.’
‘No way.’ She placed a hand on his chest, her fingers brushing the tattoo revealed by his half-open shirt, and his eyes darkened a second time.
She hadn’t planned to swim naked and have him catch her soaking wet, but now that she had, it was as though she’d stripped away another layer of doubt.
‘It’s my turn. You can watch me work for a change. ’
They spent the rest of the morning reading beside the pool, swimming and talking.
For Cassie there was sleep too. A lightness seemed to have entered her mind, and whenever she woke, it was to see Raf nearby, insisting she needed the rest. Although she checked her phone regularly for news of Isla and Rory, a weight had been lifted and she felt lighter than she had in years, the ease transferring itself to her body made languid by heat and Raf’s presence.
After a lazy lunch he sat on the terrace with his guitar, picking out chords or scribbling on a pad.
She wanted to wind her arms around him and let him know how much his openness meant, but she held back, waiting, needing to be certain.
His gaze told her everything written on his heart, and later he held her hand as she read.
The connection felt both easy and profoundly moving.
Slowly, gradually, she was moving into a new space in her life, and it was Raf she wanted beside her.
She’d abandoned the navy swimsuit and changed into her tropical-print bikini instead, and one heated stare was enough to let her know he had noticed.
In the evening Cassie cooked a simple dinner they ate on the terrace with hunks of crusty bread he’d bought from the market, and she was sleepy again after a glass of wine.
They called Isla and Rory in Italy, who were full of excitement about their plans, including a trek into the mountains and a pizza workshop.
Then Raf suggested a movie from his list, which they watched indoors, curled up on the sofa, close without actually touching.
They parted in the kitchen after he brushed her cheek with his lips, and she’d gone to bed smiling and alight with anticipation.
The next morning she was ready to leave at eight, their agreed time to head down the hill to the market.
The sun was already high, and she laughingly told him she would be leaping into the pool to cool off the moment they returned.
They had only three more nights before their trip would be over, and she tried to cling onto every moment, hold it close to her heart.