‘Ye-es.’ Where was he going with this?
‘Go and get it,’ he said. ‘Because I’m going to challenge you.’
She felt her eyes widen in surprise. ‘Challenge me?’
‘Uh-huh. Except w’re Echanging a couple of the rules, and w’re Enot going to play on a board—just the cards will do.’
‘What kind of rules?’ she asked.
‘If you get the question right, you can take off an item of my clothing. If I get the question right, I can take off an item of yours.’
‘Strip trivia?’
‘With a twist,’ he confirmed, smiling.
She fetched the trivia game from the cupboard in her living room and handed it over to him.
He took a set of quiz cards from the box. ‘Right. I’ll go first.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m the guest, and you have to be polite to me.’
She knew exactly what he was doing—and she loved him for it.
Loved him, full stop.
He got the first question right. ‘That’s a shoe to me,’ he said.
She allowed him to remove her left shoe, and copied his choice when she got her question right.
He opted for a shoe with his second question, as did she; but he got the third question wrong. Deliberately, she was sure. To reassure her that they’d take this at her speed.
Though she was ready for this. She knew this was the right thing, for both of them. So when she got her third question right, she smiled at him. ‘That’s your shirt.’
He spread his hands. ‘Take it.’
She reached out to undo the buttons of his shirt, and this time her fingers did as they were told. She tugged his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, flattened her palms against his chest, and then burst out laughing.
‘What?’
‘You’re always so perfectly groomed—I suppose a bit of me wondered whether you’d wax your chest,’ she confessed.
He laughed. ‘I’m really not that vain, Charlotte.’
‘No?’ She ruffled his perfectly groomed hair. ‘That’s better—James, you’re so perfect that it makes you a bit…well, scary.’
‘I think there was a compliment buried under that lot,’ he said. ‘But perfect…no, I’m just a man.’ He looked at her. ‘Your man,’ he amended softly. ‘If you want me.’
Her mouth went dry. ‘I do.’
‘Good. Hold that thought.’ He won the next question. ‘Your T-shirt, I think. May I?’ At her nod, his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her T-shirt and stroked her midriff. She remembered seeing his surgeon’s hands at work, deft and precise—and she really wanted to feel those hands against her body, feel them coaxing a response from her. Slowly, he bunched the soft cotton upwards, stroking her skin as he did so. ‘Your skin’s so soft, Charlotte. You feel beautiful. You are beautiful,’ he said, his voice quiet and intense, as he removed her T-shirt completely. He traced the lacy outline of her bra with a fingertip. ‘I like this. It’s pretty.’ He pushed the straps down, and nuzzled the bare skin of her shoulders. ‘Mmm, you taste nice.’ He breathed in her scent. ‘You smell nice, too.’
‘Uh, I thought this was one question, one item of clothing removed?’
‘Rule change, as of now,’ he said. ‘You’re allowed to touch the skin you uncover.’
‘Strictly speaking,’ she said, ‘you’re cheating—because you moved my bra straps and you hadn’t actually won the question to do that.’
‘Guilty as charged.’ He spread his hands. ‘So I guess that’s your choice of forfeit.’
Her heart rate speeded up a notch. ‘A kiss.’
He tilted her chin up towards him with his index finger and kissed her lightly; she closed her eyes as his lips traced a path along the curve of her throat, and she tipped her head back, giving him access. He found the pulse beating madly at the base of her neck and lingered there a while before tracing a slow exploratory path along the sensitive curve of her neck.
‘Forfeit paid in full,’ she said shakily.
He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, straightened up and smiled at her. ‘Pity. I’ll have to do some more cheating, I think.’
He lost his jeans in the next round, and her mouth went dry. She lost her jeans next, but she couldn’t think straight enough to work on the next question.
‘Your bra, I think,’ he said, and unclipped it with one hand.
‘That,’ she said, ‘was a bit smooth.’
He grinned. ‘Blame it on my misspent youth.’
She could believe it. James Alexander had probably charmed every female within a ten-mile radius from the moment of his first smile.
‘But there are two things you should know about me,’ he said. ‘Firstly, I’m never, ever unfaithful. And, secondly, whatever the gossip rags claim about me, I’m a bit fussy about who I go to bed with.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. I’m fussy, too.’
He traced her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. ‘So that makes two of us with high standards.’ He let her bra fall to the floor and gave a sharp intake of breath. ‘Charlotte, you’re incredibly beautiful.’ He cupped her breasts and teased her hardening nipples with the pads of his thumbs. He dipped his head and took one nipple into his mouth, teased it with his tongue and his teeth until she shivered; then he stopped. ‘OK?’ His voice was full of concern.
‘More than OK,’ she whispered, knowing that she could trust him.
‘I’m not entirely sure either of us is going to get another question right,’ he said.
‘So what do you suggest?’
He put the cards away. ‘That we cheat,’ he said, and drew her gently into his arms.
She wasn’t sure which of them removed the last vestiges of each other’s clothing, but the next thing she knew they were naked beneath the sheets and exploring each other with hands and lips and tongues—and oh, it felt glorious to have those clever surgeon’s hands stroking her skin and teasing her nipples and gently parting her thighs.
James ripped the foil packet open and slid the condom on to protect her, then lay back against her pillows, grasped the wrought-iron headboard, and gave her a smile that managed to be sweet and utterly sinful at the same time.
‘I,’ he said, ‘am completely yours. Do whatever you want with me.’
Then it clicked.
He was giving her control. Giving her back what Michael had taken.
And she really, really loved him for it. For caring that much. For knowing the right thing to do and let them move forward.
She straddled him, and he sucked in a breath.
‘Take it at your pace,’ he said, his voice cracked. ‘Only…can I ask, please don’t take too long? Or I might just have to beg.’
His fingers tightened against the iron as she slid her hand round his shaft and positioned him so she could sink down onto him, then lowered herself slowly, slowly, slowly.
The moment that he was fully sheathed inside her, he took one hand from the headboard, laced his fingers through hers and whispered, ‘Charlotte.’
His were dark and soulful and sweet.
‘What?’
He drew their linked hands to his mouth and kissed the backs of her fingers. ‘Thank you. For trusting me.’
She smiled back. ‘Thank you. For taking the shadows away.’
At that, he shifted so that he, too, was sitting, released her hands, and wrapped his arms round her. ‘This is probably the worst timing in the world,’ he said, resting his cheek against hers and holding her close, ‘but there’s something I need to say.’
‘What’s that?’
He drew back just enough so she could see the sincerity in his face. ‘I love you.’
She blinked. ‘Did you just say…?’
‘I love you,’ he repeated, and smiled wryly. ‘I almost told you, that time we were walking on the beach and I explained about Sophia. But it wasn’t the right time.’
‘And now is?’
‘Probably not,’ he admitted. �
�But I’ll tell you again. After.’
‘After what?’
He gave her a grin of sheer devilry. ‘After I’ve made you come.’
His words alone made her heart skitter, and as she moved over him, she could feel her body racing towards the peak.
Just as her climax hit, James tightened his arms around her.
‘I love you,’ he said, burying his face in the curve between her shoulder and neck, and she felt his body surge against hers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE next morning, Charlotte woke up alone; but there was a dent in the pillow that told her she hadn’t dreamed it—James had spent the night with his body curved protectively round hers.
The scent of fresh coffee told her that he was downstairs. Just as she was thinking it, her bedroom door opened, and he walked in, carrying two mugs. He was wearing nothing but a towel, slung low around his hips. And he looked so gorgeous that she couldn’t think straight.
‘Good morning,’ he said with a smile.
‘Morning,’ she mumbled.
He placed the coffee on her bedside table, then dropped the towel and climbed in next to her. ‘I hope you don’t mind me hijacking your kitchen. And I’ve fed Pandora. I don’t know if I’ve given her enough breakfast, but I’m sure she’ll complain to you later if I haven’t.’
‘You’ll know. She’ll come and miaou in your ear,’Charlotte said with a wry smile.
‘Just in case you’ve forgotten what I said last night—I love you, Charlotte,’ he told her, settling back against the pillows and shifting her into his arms. ‘I think I fell for you pretty early on, and the more I got to know you, the more I liked you. And these last few days, since we’ve sorted things out between us…it’s made a few things clear to me. What I want out of life.’
‘And what’s that?’ she asked.
‘I could tell you—but I don’t want to pressurise you. And I still don’t know how you feel about me.’
She coughed. ‘You’re the first man I’ve allowed this close to me since Michael. What does that tell you?’
‘I hope I know,’ he said, ‘but I’d rather you told me. Just in case I’m wrong.’
‘That you’re special.’ She paused for just long enough to make him squirm, then grinned. ‘I love you, too.’
He leaned over and kissed her. ‘Good. Then all’s right with my world.’ And all was very much right with her world, too.
The next week passed in a blur; Charlotte and James were both incredibly busy at work. On Friday, Millie Fowler’s parents brought their baby back in as her tetralogy episodes had become more frequent. James reviewed the echo with Charlotte, and came in with her to see the Fowlers.
‘She’s still too little for surgery,’ James said, ‘so I’m going to do what’s called BT shunt. The “BT” stands for Blalock-Taussig—it’s basically a tube that I’ll place between her aorta and her pulmonary artery.’
Charlotte drew a swift diagram. ‘That’s from here to here,’ she explained.
‘It means she’ll get enough blood flowing to her lungs and will stop her having so many tetralogy episodes between now and her operation,’ James explained. ‘I’ll remove it then.’
‘And in the meantime I’ll see Millie regularly and we’ll keep an eye on her,’ Charlotte said. ‘James and I work closely together, so he’ll always know what’s going on.’
‘You do seem to work well as a team,’ Mrs Fowler said.
James rested his hand briefly on Charlotte’s shoulder and squeezed. ‘We do. I’ll check the theatre slots and give you a ring this afternoon to see when we can fit her in.’
‘Is she…is she going to…?’ Mr Fowler clearly couldn’t bring himself to ask.
‘She’ll be fine,’ Charlotte reassured him. ‘James has done plenty of these operations in the past, and it’ll make life a lot easier for her until she has the hole in her heart closed. It’ll save you a lot of worrying, too, once the operation’s over—and I’ll be here with you while you’re waiting for Millie to go to Theatre.’ She smiled at the Fowlers. ‘Everything’s going to be just fine.’
On the Saturday afternoon, James discovered that there was a travelling funfair just down the road, halfway between St Piran and Penhally.
‘Now, this we just have to do,’ he said. ‘I love fairs.’
Seeing the way his eyes sparkled, Charlotte put up no resistance. And it turned out to be enormous fun—eating candyfloss and doughnuts, spinning round on the rides. James insisted on trying every stall, and on the hoopla stall he won a plastic egg. He opened it, eyed Charlotte, and grinned.
‘What’s in the egg?’ she asked.
‘I’ll show you later.’He linked his fingers through hers. ‘Are you scared of heights?’
‘No.’
‘Good. We’ll go on the big wheel next, then.’
It was late enough for the sky to be dark; the lights from the fairground glittered beneath them as they rose to the peak of the ride.
‘Charlotte. There’s something I need to talk to you about.’
James sounded serious, and she had to struggle to keep her own voice light. ‘Sure.’
‘I know I said I wouldn’t rush you, but I’m really not very good at waiting for things. And I want the rest of my life to start now.’
She still wasn’t with him.
And then he produced a bottle of sparkling mineral water from one pocket and the plastic egg from the other. ‘Traditionally, this moment’s meant to involve champagne and a diamond solitaire, but you’ve taught me that that stuff’s just for show. The important things are what lie behind it. And the important thing is love. I love you, Charlotte. With you, the world is full of sunshine, instead of the glitzy stuff I used to have in my life as its substitute.’ He opened the egg to reveal a translucent blue plastic ring decorated with three blobs in the same material. ‘So will you marry me?’
He was asking her to marry him—with a plastic ring. Leaving all the glitz behind. Because he said that she’d taught him to see the important things behind the surface.
‘Marry you?’ she repeated, still not quite believing he’d asked her.
‘The word I’m looking for is “yes”,’ he said softly. ‘It doesn’t matter whether this is water and plastic, or vintage champagne and a one-carat platinum-set diamond. They’re just trappings—and I want something real. I want you. And me. And a family.’
Exactly what she wanted, and had thought would never happen for her.
She threw her arms round him and kissed him. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, I’ll marry you. Because I love you all the way back.’
He slid the ring onto her finger. ‘This is temporary,’ he said.
Extremely temporary, because James took Charlotte shopping the next morning to find a ring. And then he went all mysterious on her, insisting on dropping her home for the afternoon as he had ‘something to do’. Which suited her fine, as she had something to do, too.
That evening, James picked her up and took her back to his place. ‘Dinner, madam, is served.’ Charlotte could see how much effort he’d taken. He’d lit candles everywhere, his living room was full of flowers, and he’d set a table on the balcony so they could look out at the night sky and the sea.
And over pudding—the richest, most gorgeous chocolate mousse she’d ever eaten in her life—he gave her the ring they’d chosen together that morning, a simple band of Cornish gold set with a tanzanite that he’d said was the exact colour of her eyes.
‘To us,’ he said, lifting a glass of champagne, ‘and the rest of our lives.’
She echoed the toast, and then handed him an envelope.
‘What’s this?’ he asked.
‘Engagement present,’ she said with a smile.
He opened the envelope to reveal a photograph of a black flatcoat retriever puppy with a piece of pink ribbon round his neck.
‘His name, I believe, is Dylan,’ Charlotte told him. ‘And he’ll be ready to come and live with us towards the end
of October.’
James looked steadily at her. ‘Us?’
‘OK, so my house isn’t quite as flash as your townhouse with its sea view—but, if you don’t mind downgrading for a while, you could always move in with me,’ she said.
‘Charlotte, with you I’d be happy to live in a beach hut,’ he said, his face full of sincerity. ‘I would love to move in with you.’ He stared at the photograph. ‘Every birthday, every Christmas, every summer, I asked if I could have a dog.’
‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘And I think maybe you’re ready for him now.’
‘Ready to settle down. To start our family.’ He paused. ‘What about Pandora?’
‘Melinda says you can introduce a pup into a house with a cat much more easily than a kitten into a house with dogs,’ Charlotte reassured him. ‘Burmese blues are really sociable, and Pandora’s really come out of her shell with you. She’ll be fine with Dylan, too; she’ll probably smack him on the nose to keep him in line, but she’ll also probably cuddle up with him.’
‘A dog, a cat, a future and a family.’ He smiled at her. ‘Charlotte, you’ve just made all my dreams come true.’
‘It’s mutual,’ she said softly. ‘Until you, I didn’t think I’d ever find love. I’d stopped looking.’
‘Me, too,’ James said. ‘But we’ve found each other. For keeps.’
EPILOGUE
Six months later: late afternoon on an April Saturday
JAMES glanced at his watch. Two minutes to go. Was Charlotte going to hold with tradition and be late? Sophia had kept everyone waiting for nearly twenty minutes…
‘Relax,’ Jack said. ‘This isn’t like the last time.’ He smiled. ‘For a start, you’re marrying the right woman.’
‘Yeah.’ James smiled back at his best man. Jack was right. This was nothing like his wedding with Sophia. Instead of having all the cloak-and-dagger stuff, the ridiculous security, he and Charlotte had talked to the press and done a deal: they’d pose for photographs after the wedding in return for a decent donation to hospital funds and being left alone to enjoy the rest of their wedding.
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