Erika shuddered at the thought.
“Doesn’t that make you uncomfortable?” she asked but Aiden shook
his head.
“Exactly the opposite. In the
first few months without you, when I couldn’t think straight, this
was the only place I found any comfort. I remembered us lying by
the pool, planning what we’d do with each room, so working here was
a way of continuing that conversation.”
He stared down at his bare feet,
shrugging almost imperceptibly. “Now there’s too much of you here
and I’ve decided to sell.”
Erika moved beside him in an
instant. The thought of letting such a beautiful house go appalled
her, particularly after the emotional investment Aiden had made in
it. “You can’t sell,” she said. “It’s perfect.”
“What’s the point in holding
on?” Anger flared as Aiden looked at her. “It’s literally a
millstone around my neck, chaining me to the past.”
The doubt had fallen away to be
replaced by the same imprint of loneliness and loss Erika had seen
countless times in her own mirror and guilt sliced through her at
the pain she’d caused him.
“Not everything about our past
was terrible.” Her fingers stretched to touch him but she thought
better of it. “We were wonderful together. Surely that’s worth
remembering.”
“Why?” He glared. “So I can lie
awake in this big empty house torturing myself about what I don’t
have?”
Anger drew his mouth into a hard
line and his eyes narrowed. Erika saw the tumble of words forming
behind his compressed lips, bringing the realisation that, while
she’d had Ben and Richard to help her through every desperate hour,
Aiden had had no one to confide in. Twelve months’ worth of anger
and heartache had probably never really been dealt with, but had
festered and increased his pain unbearably.
Aiden’s stricken expression told
her she was right and shame flooded through her. This and guilt
drove her feet toward the door.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have
turned up like this,” she said, hurrying away from him. “It wasn’t
fair of me.”
She pushed past him, head down
and charging for the hallway but, in a split second, Aiden had
moved in front of her, blocking her exit and forcing her to look up
at him.
“Don’t go,” he said for the
second time that morning, his throat tense and his voice uneven. He
swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I…” He faltered but quickly regained
control. “Just don’t go. Not yet.”
His smile was tentative, his
eyes searching her face for some emotion to react to. Erika
returned his smile with as much confidence as she could muster,
praying he didn’t notice her cheek muscle fluttering nervously.
“If I’m staying I’d like to look
around,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even and hoping
something else to talk about, would give them time to grow used to
being in the same room again. “Who knows, I might even buy the
place.”
Aiden must have been holding his
breath because he exhaled sharply. “Shall I make you the coffee you
dropped such subtle hints about too?”
“Yes please. I’d like that very
much.”
Erika followed him along the
balcony, through French doors and into a vast kitchen that ran the
depth of the house. It felt like walking into a fantasy, every
detail of the room mirroring the kitchen they’d created in their
minds. White painted cabinets, black granite surfaces, an
old-fashioned range and a huge refectory table upon which the
morning’s newspapers were spread.
“Oh, Aiden. It’s beautiful,” she
gasped, mentally laying the table with colourful china and putting
cushions on the chairs. “This would be fabulous for big Sunday
lunches, or late night suppers with friends.”
“Steady on,” he said, setting a
coffee down in front of her. “I only know the postman and the woman
in the village shop. It’s not exactly rock and roll.”
He gave a sexy, throaty laugh
that reminded Erika of long, lazy mornings in bed when she’d had
her head on his chest and his laughter had rumbled in her ear.
Her bones tingled at the memory
and she ached to feel his lips on hers again.
Aiden’s T-shirt gaped slightly
when he sat down, begging Erika to slip her hand inside and caress
the hairs on his chest. The sun pooled on the table, turning his
forearms golden and she saw the dark hairs had started to bleach
now summer was setting in. He had sexy arms, strong and powerful
and yet still able to hold her with such tenderness. She looked up
at him and he smiled, making her wonder if he were reliving the
same memories.
Leaning over to look under the
table, Aiden’s eyes ran slowly down Erika’s bare legs to her feet
and he laughed again. “I promised to take care of you, even if you
were barefoot and bankrupt, but I never really thought I’d need
to.”
She stuck out one long leg and
wriggled her toes. “One out of two’s not bad. Thanks to you, I can
afford to buy this place ten times over now.”
Dragging her attention away from
the sensual curve of Aiden’s lips and the way his fingers twitched
as if wanting to run his hand, not his eyes, down her leg, Erika
took stock of the room. If this were her house, she’d put a big
sofa near the window overlooking the garden and a vase of pale
peonies on the end of the worktop. There’d be a cat, of course,
muddy walking boots in the corner and a stack of well-thumbed
recipe books on the dresser. It wouldn’t take much to make it feel
like her home.
It suddenly occurred to her that
she’d never seen Aiden in his own place and said so. “When we first
got together, you spent all your time in Yorkshire.” On her only
visit to London she’d found him in bed with Little Miss Naked but
mentally walked around the thought. “The second time, I only saw
you in hotels, or at Ben’s place.”
She took in the small signs that
marked this place out as Aiden’s. His favourite coffee. His iPod
docked on its charger. His car keys dropped down next to the
kettle. Everything arranged to suit only him.
“Where’s home for you now?” he
asked.
Hopefully, wherever you are, she
wanted to say but held the thought back. “I’m renting in
Clerkenwell while I sort out the charity but I don’t want to be in
London long. Eventually I want something like this.”
“Then try this one on for size
if you’re serious about buying it.” Aiden got up and took a set of
keys from a drawer. “I’m going away for a couple of months. You
could house-sit.”
“Thanks. I might just do that.”
He obviously didn’t mind her being there.
“You could even add the feminine
touches you’ve been fantasising about,” he said, grinning at her
guilty expression. “I could see your mind working just now.”
Heartened by Aiden’s ability to
still read her mind, Erika laughed. “I don’t see you as the chintz
cushion type somehow.”
“You never know. Try me.”
There it was again. The slow
look lingering across her shoulders and down to her hips –
remembering, refreshing his memory and mentally undressing her.
She couldn’t pretend she didn’t
like it.
Aiden stood up and surprisingly
held out his hand to her. “Let me show you the rest of the place.
You ought to see what you’re buying.”
Without hesitating, Erika put
her hand in his and felt his fingers close unfalteringly around
hers, holding fast. His hand felt warm and there was the rough skin
of a healed blister in the centre of his palm. Once upon a time
she’d have known how it got there and been ready to kiss it better.
Instead, it had healed without her touch and the idea saddened
her.
Perhaps his heart had healed
without her too.
Aiden led her back into the old
milling room and up a wide oak staircase to the first floor. Too
late she wondered if another woman might be in evidence upstairs
and prepared herself for the tell-tale signs that Aiden had indeed
healed and moved on.
When they reached the landing
Erika couldn’t resist leaning over the balcony rail to see the
piano far below and Aiden moved behind her to look out over her
shoulder, standing far closer than he needed to. She wondered how
he’d react if she leaned back against him, or pulled his head down
to kiss her shoulder and wished she had the courage to put it to
the test.
“I put the piano where you
wanted it,” Aiden said, moving a stray strand of hair off her
shoulder. “But I imagine it’s very lonely in its corner with no one
to play it. I thought about learning but didn’t want to insult such
a fine instrument with beginners’ scales.”
Erika laughed at the idea of a
grand piano with feelings. “Maybe I’ll whip up a concerto on it
later to improve its self esteem,” she offered, all the while
trying to ignore the brush of Aiden’s bare arm against hers.
Was it her imagination playing
tricks or was Aiden taking every opportunity to touch her? Covert
glances up and down her body. The press of his hips against hers.
His hand on the small of her back, turning her around so he could
point out over her shoulder, his cheek close to hers.
“I’ve left in the original
machinery,” he explained, showing her the wheels and shafts that
still pierced the mill’s stairwell all the way up to the rafters.
“I’ve used reclaimed materials wherever I could.”
Erika, however, was busy
reclaiming a hundred different erotic memories of how it felt to be
that close to Aiden. It became impossible to concentrate on
anything other than the warmth of his body only inches from hers
and the waft of his breath across her bare shoulder that told her
he’d stolen a peek down the front of her dress.
She imagined his hands running
up each thigh and lifting her dress. He’d slip the straps off her
shoulders to free her breasts before he pulled down her underwear
just enough.
Or perhaps he’d be too impatient
and only push her panties to one side before he entered her from
behind; holding her hips steady while he thrust long and hard into
her soft pussy.
Her heart quickened. The warm,
sleepy scent she’d smelled when she’d first kissed him enfolded her
again and she inhaled deeply, letting her imagination run riot. In
one movement she could have turned and put her arms around him, and
the temptation to do so was unbearable, but she wanted to let Aiden
dictate the pace.
After all, her turning up
unannounced was surprise enough for one day. She didn’t want to
drive things too fast in case she’d misread the mixed signals Aiden
was sending out.
As if reading her thoughts,
Aiden’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her against him gently
to direct her attention elsewhere and Erika yielded without
hesitation. He spoke rapidly, excitedly explaining how the
renovation had worked, and betraying his passionate emotional and
physical involvement with the building. When he explained something
about the roof timbers, Erika tilted her head right back so it
rested against his shoulder, her neck exposed. In another life he
would have kissed it – casually, almost as a reflex – but he merely
looked now, his breath barely grazing her skin.
Without warning, he let her go,
the movement so sudden Erika slightly lost her balance. Turning to
look for him, she saw he’d already walked away into the first-floor
living room and she stared after him, rubbing her arms at the
sudden loss of his body heat.
“I haven’t spent a great deal of
time here,” he explained when she caught up. He pointed to a stack
of pictures on the huge dining table in the next room. “I’m either
watching TV downstairs or here in my study.”
He opened the final door off the
landing. While the rest of the mill felt unoccupied, the study was
crammed with Aiden’s papers, favourite books and photographs. The
blueprints of his first building project were framed on the wall
above the leather sofa, his phone lay charging on the desk and a
sweater had been tossed across a chair. There were pictures of him
everywhere; on holiday, up scaffolding, or with friends Erika had
never met.
“Who are these people?” she
asked, picking up a photograph of Aiden in a group preparing for a
parachute jump. His confident laugh made her smile and she wished
she’d been there to share his excitement.
“My sister.” He pointed to a
dark-haired beauty with a strong resemblance. ”Two colleagues and
an old school friend. Then my lawyer, Radford Byrne, and his
girlfriend.”
Erika stared at the attractive
couple, envying their freedom to have a relationship outside the
public eye, and wondering whether they’d have become good friends
of hers too.
In a perfect world.
She replaced the picture and
looked across at Aiden. Just as her pulse stilled whenever she sat
down at a piano, she guessed this study was Aiden’s comfort zone
and the place he was most himself. As if shrugging off a jacket,
the morning’s tension dropped from him and he perched on the edge
of the desk, watching Erika walk around his most private space and
amongst his most treasured possessions.
“I wouldn’t change a thing in
here,” Erika said, drinking in every detail of the Aiden she’d
never really had the chance to know. “But all this makes me realise
how little I really know about you.”
“Our relationship existed
between two separate worlds. Neither of us crossed over.” He paused
before adding, “It feels good to have you here at last.”
“I’m glad I came. As soon as I
stepped inside this house, I felt safe,” she admitted. “At
home.”
“Having you here makes it feel
like home at last. To see you walking barefoot around the rooms,
mentally filling the place with cushions and hearing the piano
played. Within an hour, it’s a different house.”
“Perhaps the mill was waiting
for me to get here before it came to life.”
Aiden shrugged as if it were too
big a question. “Or maybe I was.”
The piercing look he gave Erika
came as half-rebuke and half-invitation and her heart missed a
beat. Not wanting to say the wrong thing, she looked away to give
herself a second to organise her thoughts but, in doing so, she
caught sight of the picture hanging on the wall behind the door.
Whatever she’d been about to say froze on her lips and she
gasped.