Read Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 3 Online

Authors: Various Authors

Tags: #Fiction, #Romacne

Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 3 (60 page)

‘Lauren…’

This time her name was a plea on his lips as she took him to the brink of his control. Nuzzling against him, she breathed in his warm, earthy male scent. She wanted to savour him for hours, as he did with her, but already she was as impatient as he was and could no longer deny herself. She needed him so badly. Hastily dispensing with her own clothes, she took the condom he’d carried in the pocket of his jeans, controlling her eagerness long enough to torment him as she rolled it on, earning herself another threat of retribution. The kind of sensual threat she loved. Sliding over him, she wasted no more time and welcomed him fully inside her.

His hands stroked her with a reverence and tenderness that brought a rush of emotion, making her acknowledge how deep her feelings for this special man had become. Taking her by surprise, Gabriel sat up, pulling her close. Sitting in his lap, she wrapped her legs around his hips, pressing her body against him. They rocked together, sharing slow, deep kisses, their hands caressing. The firelight flickered over their joined bodies as they moved in unison, their rhythm increasingly urgent. When, eventually, they drifted down from the giddying height of passion, reaching a new pinnacle of pleasure, they remained locked in each other’s arms, cuddled up in front of the fire under the fleecy throw Gabriel had pulled off the sofa to cover them.

The evening had been the most intimate she had ever known, not only in the intenseness of their love-making but in the sharing of confidences and baring of souls. They had each revealed a part of themselves in a way they had never done with anyone else, which said much about the level of trust between them. She had told people about the adoption thing, it wasn’t a secret, but she had never discussed her innermost feelings about it, not even with Chloe. Only with Gabriel.

Holding him tight, she nestled against him, turning her face
into his neck. She had never felt closer to him than she did at this moment. Gabriel cared about her, she knew that, but she could no longer pretend to herself that her own feelings stopped there. She loved this man, totally and completely. Knowing what he faced in France, what decisions he had to make about his future, troubled her…both for his own peace of mind and for whatever might lie ahead for them as a couple.

But she couldn’t afford to think about that now. She had agreed the terms. No commitments. Live for today. And she would. She loved him, would cherish every moment with him, would show him in every way she could without words what he meant to her, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t put pressure on him for more than he could give. For now they had the promise of Christmas alone together and she planned to make it as special and unforgettable as possible. She could only wish with all her heart that the new year and beyond would bring hope and happiness.

Christmas Day brought winter sunshine, pale blue skies and cool temperatures. Kate stifled a yawn and took a sip of strong coffee, hoping it would help her wake up. Jem had been on the go for ages. Although he no longer believed in Father Christmas, he still had all the youthful enthusiasm for the day and had opened his presents with breathless excitement. Fearing her son was missing out without his father—and maybe salving her own inner guilt over his true parentage—she tended to spoil him at this time of year, no matter how hard she tried not to overdo it.

Having wolfed down his breakfast, Jem had raced upstairs eager to try on the new football shirt of his favourite Premiership team that Oliver and Chloe had given him. Kate smiled. Her friends were so generous and always remembered Jem, usually giving him books and CDs which he enjoyed immensely. Her smile faded as she thought of Nick. So far he had
not given Jem anything. Not that he was obligated to do so, of course, but she had hoped the effort he had been making to be more friendly to Jem since the flood would continue.

She knew that the whole Tremayne clan were getting together for a big family Christmas this year—the first for a long time. With Jack and Edward now back in Cornwall and settled with their respective partners, and with Lucy and Ben celebrating Annabel’s first birthday over the holiday, it was a special time for the Tremaynes. Had it only been a year since she had helped deliver that precious baby in difficult circumstances in a deserted barn during a snowstorm?

A wave of sadness swept through her. She wished Jem could be a part of all that Tremayne love and laughter. But she doubted it would ever happen. If only Nick would acknowledge Jem she would be content. She would even be able to force herself to ignore her own needs, her loneliness, the unrequited love she had harboured for Nick for so many years—as long as her son was happy and secure.

This morning, the plan was for a walk along the beach as Jem was eager to fly the Rhombus Entry stunt kite she had bought him, an inexpensive but longed-for item that had been top of his Christmas wish list since they had watched a display in the summer. The fliers doing elaborate stunts and tricks had allowed Jem to have a go and had recommended the Rombus as an excellent beginner’s kite.

Kate was about to go upstairs to get dressed for their outing when the doorbell rang. Puzzled as to who would be calling on Christmas Day, she tightened the belt of her robe, pushed some wayward strands of hair back from her face, and left the kitchen. Chloe and Oliver were away—if her suspicions proved correct, Kate believed they would return with some exciting news—so she was on call for any midwifery emergencies over the holiday. But that would entail a phone call, not a visit to her house.

‘Nick!’ she exclaimed, shocked to discover who awaited her when she opened the door. She could feel the blush warm her cheeks and cursed herself for responding like some flustered teenager to the very sight of him. It didn’t help that she was still in her robe. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone. Merry Christmas.’

‘Good morning, Kate. Merry Christmas to you, too.’

Noting the wrapped gifts he held, she moved back. ‘Would you like to come in?’

‘Please.’ He stepped into the hallway and she closed the door. ‘I hope I’m not too early. I wanted to call in before going to Lucy and Ben’s.’

‘Not at all. Jem’s been up for hours, excited to open his presents.’

A smile softened the characteristic sternness on Nick’s face. ‘I imagine. I hope you don’t mind. I’ve bought him a couple of things.’

‘No. That’s lovely. Thank you.’ Surprised and delighted that Nick had unbent enough to remember his son and think to bring him gifts, she led the way to the kitchen. ‘Would you care for a cup of coffee? I’ll run upstairs and fetch Jem.’

‘All right.’

Her pulse racing, Kate hurried upstairs and dressed hastily, pausing a moment to brush her hair and apply some lipstick and mascara before going to Jem’s room. She found him wearing his new red-and-white Arsenal top, absorbed in the football annual that had been a present from Lauren and Gabriel.

‘Jem, we have a visitor,’ she told him with a smile. ‘Can you come down, my love? Then we can take your kite and go for our walk.’

‘OK.’

Downstairs, Kate smiled at Jem’s excitement when he discovered the identity of their guest and the unexpected presents that awaited him.

‘Uncle Nick!’

‘Hello, Jeremiah.’ Setting down his mug of coffee, Nick held out two neatly wrapped parcels. ‘These are for you.’

‘Gee, thanks!’

A lump lodged in Kate’s throat as man and boy exchanged smiles and she noticed the similarities between them. The same eyes. The same shape to the mouth. The same frown of concentration. Would those likenesses become more pronounced as Jem grew older? Would people begin to suspect who his real father was? Hiding her concerns, she watched as Jem tore off the paper to reveal a fun book of science facts and two of the latest computer games.

‘Wow! I love them. Thanks, Uncle Nick,’ he gushed, taking the older man by surprise and giving him a hug.

‘Happy Christmas, Jem.’

Nick’s voice was hoarse as he responded to his son’s engaging and instinctive reaction. Looking stiff and uncertain, he rested a hand on the boy’s head for a moment, and Kate met his gaze, her own eyes stinging with unshed tears at the confusion and emotion in Nick’s. This was more than she had expected and she knew it was greedy of her to wish for more.

‘Do you have to leave already?’ Jem asked with disappointment as Nick rose to his feet.

‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’ Nick cleared his throat. ‘Um…We’re having a get-together at my house on New Year’s Eve,’ he announced after a moment. ‘It will be family and a few friends, including children, so it won’t be a late night. If you and Jem would like to come, Kate, you’d be welcome.’

Her heart fluttered at the surprise invitation. ‘We’d love to, wouldn’t we, Jem?’

‘Yeah, that would be great!’

Walking with Nick to the front door a few moments later, Kate hesitated and looked up at him, unable to read the expression
on his face. ‘Thank you, Nick,’ she said, fearing the welter of emotions
she
was feeling were all too apparent.

Nick nodded and stepped outside. Kate tightened her hold on the door as she watched him climb into his car, not looking back before he drove away to be with his proper family. He’d thought of Jem, had made him happy, she told herself as she closed the door. That was the important thing to remember right now.

Half an hour later, they had walked around the harbour and reached the nearly deserted beach. While Jem concentrated on sending his colourful delta-wing kite soaring into the sky for the first time, Kate’s thoughts remained grounded and on Nick. He had thought to include them in his gathering to mark the end of a year that had been eventful personally, professionally and for the town as a whole, and for that she was grateful. What, she wondered, would the new year hold for them all?

‘Lauren?’

Receiving no answer when he walked into the Manor House shortly after midnight, Gabriel headed to the kitchen, washed his hands and then poured himself a glass of water. Reflecting on the last couple of hours, he gave a rueful shake of his head. This had not been the way he would have chosen to spend New Year’s Eve.

His first callout had come late in the evening to a four-year-old girl who had experienced her second severe acute asthma attack in less than a week. Her breathing had finally been eased with the administration of oxygen, nebulised salbutamol and oral prednisolone but, given the child’s distress, along the frequency and severity of her symptoms, he’d arranged for hospital admission.

He’d only just arrived home when he had been asked to attend an emergency at the Penhally Arms on the harbour front, where a fight had broken out between two groups of revellers who’d had too much to drink. Taunts had turned to
threats and, uncharacteristically for Penhally Bay, a running battle had ensued in the street when the guilty parties had been evicted from the pub. Several people had suffered minor injuries, while two had received more serious stab wounds from broken glass. It had taken a while to sort everything out and to stabilise one of the patients, who had lost a great deal of blood and gone into hypovolaemic shock, for ambulance transport to hospital in St Piran. Gabriel had been thankful to come home and leave the police to handle the aftermath of the trouble.

As promised, he had stopped off at Gatehouse Cottage on the way back to check again that the cats, Cyclops and Pirate, were fine. Oliver and Chloe—who had rung a couple of times during the week, sounding blissfully happy with married life—were due back in a couple of days, ready to face the music about their secret wedding. Gabriel felt sure that everyone would be delighted for them.

Foxy, who was curled up on his beanbag by the range in the Manor House kitchen, stretched and snuffled in his sleep. Gabriel washed up his glass, checked all was secure downstairs and that the log fire had safely burned down with the guard around it before he jogged up the stairs in search of Lauren. Light spilled out from his bedroom across the landing, drawing him onwards. His heart swelled and emotion gripped him at the sight he found when he walked into the room.

Dressed in lilac French knickers and matching camisole—the satin and lace creations far more alluring and feminine in his view than blatant, obvious items like G-strings—Lauren was sprawled face down across the four-poster bed. The lavishly illustrated book he had given her on her favourite artist, Claude Monet, and his stunning garden at Giverny in France, was open in front of her. Smiling, he recalled her reaction when she had unwrapped the book on Christmas morning and discovered the promise that had accompanied it…

‘What’s this?’ she had asked, holding up the sticky note he had stuck on the front with ‘IOU’ written on it.

‘Do you have a valid passport?’

A frown had creased the smoothness of her brow. ‘Yes, I think it has another two or three years before it’s due for renewal. Why?’

‘Maybe we could have a long weekend away together in the spring.’ Grey eyes had widened with surprised delight at his suggestion. ‘I want to take you to see Giverny for yourself.’

‘Do you mean it?’

‘Of course,
ma belle
. I’ve been once. It’s beautiful.’ It meant returning to France far sooner than expected, but it would be worth it to make Lauren happy, and he wouldn’t be near the family home. ‘I want to share it with you. We’ll go when the gardens reopen in April.’

Tears shimmering in her eyes, she had thrown herself into his arms. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you! It’s the best gift ever!’ She’d kissed him…then shown her gratitude in wickedly enjoyable ways.

Now he crossed slowly to the side of the bed and discovered that she was fast asleep. She looked adorable. Gently, he eased the book out from under her outstretched hand, marked her page and set it on the bedside chest. He hesitated, looking down at her, loath to wake her but needing her with as much desperation as ever.

She had made this Christmas so special for him. Aside from the Monet book, they had exchanged several gifts, each of them finding a mix of things that were either funny, touching, saucy or thoughtful. But it was the time with Lauren, her warmth, her understanding, her passion, her generosity of spirit, that had been the greatest gift of all. The issues with Yvette, his heritage and his future remained unresolved, but some of his heartache had eased by sharing his fears and his hurt with Lauren.

Other books

Three Arched Bridge by Ismail Kadare
Flight From Honour by Gavin Lyall
Nova Swing by M John Harrison
Shadow Magic by Karen Whiddon
Love's Reward by Jean R. Ewing
When Fate Dictates by Elizabeth Marshall
The Ginger Man by J. P. Donleavy