It had never been his intention to sleep with her tonight.
For her to stay was a hope, but sex—hell, wasn’t that supposed to be the last thing on her mind?
Wasn’t it too soon?
And he liked straightforward, only this was anything but.
But he looked over to where she sat, not in the least offended that she wanted it over with, another thing to tick off her list as she moved on with her life. And again it wasn’t a time for arrogance or feigned modesty. He knew he was good, knew he could make her happy—and wasn’t happy part of their deal?
‘I’ll sleep with you on one condition.’
Why did he always make her smile?
‘That you never fake it for me.’
‘Or you.’
‘Er, Izzy,’ he said, and that made her blush and give an embarrassed laugh.
‘I mean, don’t pretend afterwards that it’s okay, just so you don’t upset me.’
Diego rolled his eyes, but he was smiling now too. ‘The talking doesn’t stop when we get to the bedroom. I can do both!’
And he knew then that they could talk about it for ever, but words could only reassure so far. This was so not what he had imagined for tonight. There was something almost clinical about it and yet Diego had so much confidence in her, in them, in all they were going to be, that if this was a hurdle for her, perhaps it was better to jump it.
He pulled her onto his lap, but his kisses weren’t working. He could feel her trying, feel her doing her very best to relax, but he wouldn’t put her through it. He pulled back his lips, looked into her eyes and feigned a martyred sigh ‘Shall we just get this over with?’
She almost wept with relief.
‘Please.’
‘Ring the hospital’
Which took away her little excuse to suddenly stop later. Diego was onto her, she realised.
So she rang and, no, Tilia didn’t need her to come in.
Oh, God, what was she doing?
She felt as if she was walking into Theatre for surgery as he took her hand and they headed for the bedroom. Izzy half expected him to tell her to get undressed and pop on a gown and that he’d be back in five minutes.
Couldn’t it happen more seamlessly?
Couldn’t they just have had a kiss on the balcony and somehow ended up naked on his massive bed without the awkward bit in the middle? But that hadn’t worked and Izzy realised she would have been faking it because she would know where it would lead, to this, the bit she was dreading, the part that was holding her back from moving on.
God, it was a room built for nothing but a bed. Izzy gulped.
Massive windows, floorboards and one very large, very low bed and not much else, bar a table that doubled as a washing basket.
‘Where are your things?’ Izzy would rather deal with basics than the bed.
‘What things?’
‘Alarm clock, books…’ Her hands flailed. ‘A mirror, a wardrobe…’
‘Here’s the wardrobe.’
Okay, there it was, hidden in the wall, but apart from that…
‘Curtains?’ Izzy begged.
‘It looks out to the ocean,’ Diego said, and to her horror he was stripping off. And I don’t need an alarm clock—I wake at five.’ He was unbuckling his belt, his top already off, stripping off like a professional and chatting about nothing as Izzy stood, champagne in hand, wishing she’d never started this.
‘Five?’
‘It’s hell.’ He pushed his denim jeans down past thick thighs as he explained his plight to a distracted audience. ‘Even when the clocks change my brain knows and I wake up.’
Oh, God.
He wasn’t erect erect, but he was erect enough that it was pointing at her—this conversation going on as this thing waggled and danced and she did her best not to look at it, tried to worry about windows and passing ships, but he was completely naked now.
‘Are you always this uninhibited?’
‘I’ve been undressing for bed for many years now,’ Diego said, and then his voice was serious. ‘Let’s just start as we mean to go on.’
But would he want to go on afterwards?
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Izzy said, in the hope of delaying the inevitable, so sure was she that when he found out just how hopeless she was, he wouldn’t want her or, worse, would feel stuck with her.
‘Why don’t we just sleep together?’ Diego suggested. ‘Given it will probably be our one interrupted night for the foreseeable future.’
And though she wanted to turn and flee, he was right, Izzy realised, because as hellish as this was for her, next time there might be more than passing ships to worry about. There might be a baby in the room too!
‘I forgot my phone…’
‘Your phone?’ Izzy said to his departing back, and as he spoke about staff ringing some nights if there was a problem, and he’d rather that…Izzy took the moment to get out of her clothes and under the sheet before he returned.
Just as Diego had expected her to do.
He didn’t need his phone, of course.
And he was, in fact, nervous.
Just not for the same reasons as Izzy.
Diego liked sex.
Correction.
Diego loved sex.
And he liked relationships too, but short-term ones.
There was nothing short term about Izzy.
As he climbed into bed and turned and faced her, it was the sense of responsibility that unnerved him a touch.
Not just the obvious, not just Izzy and her baby, but a self-imposed responsibility towards Izzy, because in every area of her life she was getting it together, managing it herself, but for this part to be right she needed another, and she had trusted herself to him.
‘Better?’ Diego asked, and, yes, it was.
Much, much better, not because she was in the dark and under a sheet, just better because she was, for the first time, lying next to him and he was so solid and bulky and just him.
‘In a few short weeks,’ Diego said into the darkness, ‘you’ll be ripping your clothes off in the middle of the day and we’ll be on the kitchen floor!’
‘Your confidence is inspiring.’
‘Oh, you will!’ Diego said. ‘Remember the bath?’
How could she forget?
‘That just sort of happened.’
Izzy lived on her nerves.
Diego lived on instinct.
Instinct that told him his parents were wrong, that he’d do better by not following their chosen course for him.
Instinct that had told him over and over again that, despite neat numbers on a chart, a baby was struggling.
And instinct was all very well, but it got in the way sometimes.
Like now, when he knew he should be closing his eyes and trying to sleep, to let her come to him, a little problem arose.
Or rather quite a big problem that crept along the side of her thigh, nudging her like a puppy that wanted to be stroked.
‘Perdón!’ Diego said, and he would have moved away but he heard her sort of laugh and he wasn’t a saint. She was right there next to him and naked and warm and he’d had to go and remind them both of that bath.
Yes, it was instinct that drove his lips to her neck, the hand that wasn’t under her roaming her body a little and then, for Izzy, instinct overrode nerves.
His lips were soft but firm at the same time, kissing her, breathing onto her skin. Diego, a man who had only ever given, now wanting badly, and from his deep murmurs of approval as his hands slid to her breasts it was her that he wanted.
And she wanted a little more of him too.
She turned and faced him, so she could kiss him properly, not the nervous kiss about where this might lead she had endured on the balcony, but a bolder kiss, knowing where this might lead, in the bedroom.
He tasted of him, his tongue cool and lazy and then suddenly insistent and then back to lazy. He drove her wild with his mouth, because her body was at its o
wn bidding now. Her thighs parted a little and captured him as they kissed, he could feel himself hard but smooth between the tender skin of her thighs, and she wanted him higher, her legs parting, only Diego wasn’t rushing.
‘I know where you were this afternoon…’ His hand was there, exploring where she had shaved. ‘Next time I’ll do it.’ And she felt this bubble of moisture at the very thought as his fingers slipped in and it felt divine.
‘Condoms!’ Izzy said, common sense prevailing, even if the last thing she wanted was him getting up and heading for the bathroom.
But this was Diego.
He sort of stretched over her and she felt his arm rummage in the dark beneath the bed and come up with the goods.
Oh, God, he was so male, so…She flailed for a word…basic.
It was the only one she could think of and it didn’t really suit, but it was the best she could do.
And then he rolled off her and lay on his back and Izzy came up with another word.
Raw.
He didn’t slip it on discreetly as he kissed her. No, he lay back and she watched, she actually propped up on her elbow and watched, this shiver inside as he gave himself two slow strokes, two long, slow strokes that had Izzy licking her lips and feeling suddenly contrary. This was something she had wanted over and done with, something she still wanted over and done with, except she was balling her fist not to reach out and touch him.
So she did.
Like warm silk he slid down her palm, the pulse of him beneath her fingers, and she did it again and it felt so nice that she did it again, till his hand closed around hers and halted her.
‘Aren’t I doing it right?’ said her old fears, and for a moment there was no reply.
‘Izzy.’ He paused again. ‘Any more right and we won’t need the condom.’
And then she got her seamless kiss, because that was what he did, he rolled over and kissed her, his tongue, his breath filling her mouth and his body over her and then the nudge of him between her legs.
And she was scared, but she wanted him.
Like hating flying and preparing for take-off, wanting just to get there, except there’s a slight delay in departure and cabin crew are bringing round drinks and you taste your first Singapore sling.
Oh, my!
He was slow and tender and, yes, she was ready, and it had little to do with nerves that he had to squeeze inside. Izzy screwed her eyes closed, told herself to breathe as her body stretched to greet him, the slow fill of him more than she could accommodate, except slowly she did.
And then she breathed out as he slid out, right to the tip and she braced herself for him to fill her again, which he did.
And then again and each time she had to remember to breathe.
His elbows held most of his weight, his rough chin was on her cheek and his breath tickled at her ear, and suddenly Izzy remembered where she was and it wasn’t happening so easily. She knew she should be a touch more enthusiastic, but she was a mother now and surely sensible, so she made the right noises and lifted her hips and would have settled for his pleasure, except Diego had other ideas.
He smothered her feigned gasps with his mouth and offered her more weight, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her, not harder but deeper, and she remembered his demand that she not fake it. So she lay there and let herself just feel him—lay there as he kissed her eyes and then her cheeks and then she felt the shift in him, the kissing stopping, his heavier weight and the ragged breathing in her ear, and she forgot where she was again, forgot about rather a lot of things, just the delicious feel of him, and the scratch of his jaw and the stirrings of the orgasm he had given her before. Then she found that she was making noises now, but of her body’s own accord, and as he bucked deep inside her, she did something she would never have envisaged from this night.
‘Not yet.’
She was too deep into herself to wonder at the transition to voicing her wants, her real wants, but Diego recognised it and it gave a surge of pleasure that almost tipped him over. He would have waited for this for ever, yet now was struggling to wait another minute, but for Izzy he did.
He could feel her pleasure and it was his.
Both locked in a dance that moved faster than them.
‘Not yet!’ She was in another place and he could hear her calling and he chased her, he was holding back and driving harder, he could hear her moans, feel the surge in her that was akin to panic, but he knew her body too, could feel her body tight around him, feel her trip and he just knew.
Knew she needed all of him before she could give that bit more.
Her words were futile, Izzy realised, because Diego was moving at a different speed now, reaching for the finish line with a surge of energy that had her breathless.
She could hear her name, feel the unbridled passion and just the sheer strength of him as he thrust inside her. And she stopped trying then, stopped trying to chase or catch him, she just felt the moment.
Felt him over her, in her and his arms behind her, she could hear her name, taste his skin, and then it was his name she heard her voice calling, his name said in a tone she didn’t recognise, then a shout of surprise as she let go.
Her thighs were shaking and her hips pushing up against his, her hands digging into his back, and deep inside she trembled as Diego pulsed into her.
And most delicious of all, it didn’t matter that she was a teeny bit late for the party, she was there, she had made it, her late entrance dazzling, because he got to feel every beat of it as he delivered those last emptying strokes and instinct had served him well.
As he felt her crash and burn beneath him, as he tried to get his head out of white light and back to the dark, he knew he had just met the real Izzy.
‘Tell me again,’ Diego said, when he could get the words out, ‘what exactly your hang-ups are.’
Chapter Thirteen
‘SHE’S fine!’ a night nurse greeted her as Izzy dashed in at seven a.m.
She’d given Diego a fifteen-minute head start so they didn’t arrive together and it seemed to take ages for the intercom to answer when she buzzed, because the staff were all in handover.
Izzy felt guilty with pleasure and was sure there must be a penance to pay for having such a wonderful night, except Tilia was fine—completely adorable and wide awake. Chris, her nurse for the day, informed Izzy when she came out of handover that Tilia might even be ready for her first bath.
Izzy was glad to have Chris beside her, encouraging her.
Tilia seemed so small and slippery and she wouldn’t stop crying.
‘I thought they liked their bath,’ Izzy said.
‘Just rock her a little.’
Which Izzy did, and Tilia’s cries softened.
Her tufts of hair were shampooed and by the time Izzy had dried and dressed her, it was all sticking up and Izzy thought her heart would burst as she sat in the rocking chair and held her.
‘How soon do you think?’ Izzy asked the perpetual question.
‘When she’s taking all her feeds and just a bit bigger,’ Chris said. ‘She’s doing so well. I know you’re impatient to get her home, but she still needs top-ups and a little one like this…’ She took an exhausted Tilia from Izzy and popped her in her cot then put the saturation probe on her, checked her obs and popped a little hat on. ‘Even a bath wears them out. Why don’t you go down to the canteen and get some breakfast?’ Chris suggested, rightly guessing that Izzy hadn’t eaten.
‘Good idea,’ Izzy agreed. ‘I’ll go and see if Nicola wants to come down with me.’
‘Actually,’ Chris said gently, ‘maybe it’s best if you leave Nicola for now.’
‘Oh!’ Izzy waited for more information, only she wasn’t a doctor on duty here and there was no information forthcoming. ‘I’ll be at the canteen, then,’ Izzy said. ‘I’ve got my pager.’
She walked through the unit, her eyes drawn to Toby’s cot. There was Nicola and her husband, and Diego was sitting with them. His
face was more serious than she had ever seen it and Izzy felt sick as Megan came into the unit and instead of waving to Izzy just gave a very brief nod and headed over to them.
It was the longest morning.
Tilia awoke at eleven but wouldn’t take her bottle and Izzy came close to crying, except she shook her head when Chris passed her a box of tissues.
‘You are allowed to cry.’
But it seemed so petty. Tilia was thriving, okay, a little slower than Izzy would like, but she was getting bigger and stronger every day and, anyway, Izzy knew, there was a lot more to cry over than that—and now just wasn’t the time to.
‘Hey, where’s Chris?’ Diego gave her a tired smile as he came in later to get an update.
‘Two minutes,’ Chris called from the sinks, where she was helping another mum with a bath.
‘How are you?’ Diego asked.
‘Good.’
Tilia?’
‘Misbehaving—she won’t take her feeds.’
‘She had a bath, though,’ Diego said, but she could tell he was distracted and who could blame him?
‘How’s Toby?’
‘He’s not good,’ Diego said. ‘I know you helped deliver him.’ He was walking a fine line. ‘We can talk another time.’
‘Sure.’
‘Two more minutes!’ Chris called again.
‘I’m going to be working late tonight.’ His voice was low. ‘I can give you a key if you want…’
‘I might go home tonight,’ Izzy said, hoping he wouldn’t take up her offer of an out. ‘I’m really tired and you’re working…’
Except he took it. ‘Sure.’
And then Chris was walking over, ready to bring Diego up to date with her charges, and Izzy didn’t see him again apart from the back of his shoulders for the rest of the day.
And that night, when she sat at home, she told herself she was being ridiculous—he was working late, he had every reason to be sombre, and she had been the one to say she’d prefer to go home, but, just as a mother could often pin-point the moment their child became sick long before the doctors were concerned even when the child itself said it was well, Izzy could sense change.
Even as she tried to leave the past where it belonged, she could sense a shift, could sense a black cloud forming, and it had hovered over Diego today.
St Piran's: The Wedding of The Year / St Piran's: Rescuing Pregnant Cinderella Page 28
