‘In that case, what are we waiting for?’ Cal’s beautiful blue eyes danced over her fingers as he sucked one gently into his mouth. The sensation of his hot wet tongue on her skin sent her body into overdrive. Her eyes connected with his and the connection between them seemed to tug tighter and tighter.
She was going to bed with him.
He smiled a wicked smile, that stoked more heat in her belly, and looked back down at her hand.
And she saw the exact moment doubt clouded his head.
He went completely still, focusing on her wedding ring. ‘Actually, no. We’ve both made promises to other people. We’ll stop right now.’
CHAPTER TEN
WHAT THE HELL had they been thinking?
There was her wedding ring glinting in the Christmas tree light and, no matter what, he couldn’t make love to another man’s wife. She had so many things going on in her life, getting involved with a man who was duty bound to go halfway across the world would only muddle all that. He couldn’t take on the responsibility for her happiness or heartbreak too.
Cal tugged away from her, letting her hand go, gently—because she was still hurting.
And, dammit, he was hurting her even more by pushing her away, but it was for her own good. ‘I can’t, Abbie. We can’t.’
She looked down at her ring and pressed her lips tight together, eyes now shimmering with the sheen of tears. She shook her head. And again.
And his heart just about melted. ‘I understand, Abbie, it’s okay. You loved him. And I’m not...’ Him. He had no words. He wasn’t about to cuckold a memory for the sake of a roll in bed. And yes, he knew his feelings were more than that; that somehow he’d become all tangled up with this woman. But there was a line he wasn’t prepared to step over no matter how much his body begged him to. She was wearing Michael’s ring. She was still in love with his memory. ‘We can’t.’
She touched his arm, breathing out long and slow. ‘Yes. We can. I can. It’s time, Cal. I’ve been putting it off for too long and I should have done it a long time ago.’
‘Not on my account. I don’t want you to do anything like that for my sake.’
‘This isn’t about you, it’s about me. About letting go of the past and moving forward—we both know we have to do some of that, right?’ She tugged off her wedding ring—more difficult, given her swollen wrist—felt the weight of the gold in her hand. And he saw in it all the promises she’d made to her husband.
Short of begging his brother not to die, this was the most intimate thing he’d ever done. And he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Yet even so, far from this being a killer of his desire, it only made the ties to her feel stronger. Because of all the men in the whole damned world she could have done this with, she’d chosen him. There was a hitch in his chest, something shifting, making space. It felt blown wide open and yet also crushed tight.
‘Can you unfasten my necklace for me?’ She gave him a wobbly smile and he could see she was holding back more tears.
He frowned. ‘No. Not for me, don’t do this for me.’ It was too much to ask of him, too much responsibility.
‘It’s for me. Help me, please, Cal. I want to kiss you again. I want to go to bed with you.’ Now she laughed, a little. Decision made. She looked as if she believed the words she was saying. ‘Don’t make me beg.’
‘I wouldn’t dare.’ He was all thumbs as he turned her away from him and gripped the fragile chain, eventually releasing the thin gold clasp, then after he’d handed it to her she slid the ring onto the chain and he fastened it back around her neck.
She turned, fingering the ring for a moment then letting it drop to hang loose at her throat. Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him. ‘To be absolutely honest with you, I don’t really know if I am ready. I don’t know if this is going to be the best decision I’ve ever made or the worst one, and I certainly don’t know what the hell is going to happen to us in ten minutes, never mind tomorrow or next week. But I’ve spent years avoiding hurt by not getting close to anyone. Now I’m scared about how much I’ll hurt if I don’t. All I can think about is that I want you. So badly.’
That was some huge admission, but she was right. He hadn’t wanted to get close to her either, but trying to pretend it wasn’t happening wasn’t getting them anywhere. He reached for her and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, because he couldn’t stop this. Couldn’t fight the stirring in his belly and the overwhelming need for her that came from nowhere. He couldn’t fight it, didn’t want to, not today. Not in this moment.
‘Come here.’
She slid her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest and they stood, locked together, not fighting, not playing, not racing. Just feeling the beat of their two hearts as they mingled into one steady rhythm, and still listening to the Christmas music that was now harking on about it being cold outside.
Actually, the sun was shining on a late spring day, but it was no match for the heat in here. Because, regardless of all his principles, he was still very hot for a gorgeous woman in a silk robe. Hot for this woman, who was a combination of all things sexy and funny, kind and sincere and yet a fighter. A survivor. The whole package. Perfect.
Whoa.
Perfect was a lot to get his head around.
‘You okay?’ she asked him. ‘I haven’t frightened you off?’
‘I’m good.’ But his heart started to hammer and he had to admit to being spooked. If she was perfect, that meant he might just fall for her. Completely.
Maybe he already had. Too hard. Too quick. But even though all logic told him to leave right now and get his head straight, his feet were stuck to the floor, his arms locked around her.
He felt her smile against his chest. ‘Me too. I’m very, very good.’
‘And, I’ve finally found a way to keep you still,’ he whispered into her ear, rubbing his cheek against her head, breathing her in.
‘We’ll see about that.’ She wriggled away from him, tipping her head back and laughing. ‘Race you to the bedroom.’
‘But—’ This wasn’t how he did things—leaping from intensity to humour, from comfort to need. He usually did the slow build, or hot and raw, not zigzagging from one to the other and everything in between. Or maybe it was how he did things now. Maybe this was his new normal; experiencing the whole range of emotions in as many minutes. Maybe this was what she did to him and would continue to do to him until he left. ‘What about...?’
‘It’s this way...’ There was a sparkle in her eyes as she ran back to him and pressed her mouth to his. ‘Surely, Callum Baird, you’re not going to let me get there first?’
* * *
‘Never.’ Cal’s arms snaked round her waist and he picked her up, scooping her legs into his arms as if she didn’t weigh any more than a feather. Abbie hadn’t got a clue what all this meant, why taking her ring off had felt like the right thing to do. All she knew was that there had been no way she could let Cal walk out of that door. There was a wave of guilt but she tried to convince herself that Michael would be happy for her. He would.
The atmosphere was changing lightning fast from intense to fun and she was struggling to catch up. It felt as if they were trying to make up for all the hours, weeks, years they hadn’t known each other, trying to fit a lifetime into these moments. It was breathtaking, scary, exhilarating and tilting her a little off balance. When it came to Callum Baird she felt so many things. Too many.
He smiled and she felt that ping in her heart. ‘If I carry you through we’ll get there together,’ he growled.
‘Seriously, I can manage to walk.’ She made a play of struggling, but in all truth it was divine to be in his arms. She leaned her head against his chest and breathed in his spicy scent, felt the bristles on his jaw scrape her forehead, felt the muscles on his arms contract and str
etch, and everything tightened in anticipation of another kiss, of how he’d feel inside her.
He shook his head. ‘Knowing you, you’ll be racing to get undressed and in bed before I get the chance to take those clothes off your body. But believe me, lady—I am taking those clothes off.’
She pretended to weigh up her options, when the only reply was how quickly? ‘Only if that means I get to undress you too.’
‘I think we can manage that.’ He laid her on the unmade bed and climbed in next to her, looking at her as if she’d saved his life, as if she’d hauled him off that mountain herself. ‘But first, thank you. For being right there and listening.’
‘Anyone would have listened, Cal.’
‘No one would have known how right it was to say it out loud, no one would have pushed so gently, yet so perfectly. But you did, Abbie. You did.’ He leaned over, cupped her face in his hands and angled his mouth over hers in a bone-melting intimate kiss born of all the emotions they’d just shared. It was a caress, a promise of no more hurt, a wiping away of pain. It was the seal of something—a connection so raw and genuine and pure that she thought her heart was going to burst open. She needed him and, miracle of miracles, he needed her right back.
But when he groaned into her mouth the kiss turned feverish, kindling hot need inside her, spreading fast through her body. It deepened into seeking out his tongue, clashing teeth, a biting-lips kind of kiss.
Dragging her mouth from his for the shortest second she could bear, she tugged at his T-shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it aside. Ran her hands over finely sculpted muscles, sighing in pleasure at this beautiful man, ignoring the wrist twinges and the heartache and the knowledge that this could only be temporary, fleeting—because nothing was going to stop her exploring every inch of him.
As she kissed across his chest, from one nipple to the other, making him laugh, his fingers tore at her robe, then her pyjama top and he was groaning again as he looked at her, half naked and all turned on. ‘God, Abbie, you drive me mad.’
‘I hope that’s a good thing.’ She straddled him, pressing fast kisses to his throat as his hands palmed her breasts, shuddering as he sat up and caught her nipples in his mouth. Beneath her bottom she could feel how much he wanted her and she writhed against his erection, desperate to be relieved of her shorts and him his jeans. She arched her back as he sucked her nipple, intensifying her need to fever pitch.
‘Aye, it’s a very good thing.’ He flipped her onto her back and ground against her, breathless, his hand now stroking the tender part of her hip. She reached down and unzipped his jeans and he wriggled out of them, then discarded them on the floor. He, in turn, stripped her of her shorts and within seconds they were both naked.
Somehow he was standing next to the bed and she was lying on the duvet, momentarily transfixed by his body. He was...oh, he was impressive. Her mouth dried just looking at the rock-hard abs and the trail of fine hair down, down, down... He was divine. She knelt up and reached for his hips, tugging him towards her, taking his erection in her good hand, her mouth inches from the tip. But at her touch he sucked in air, covering her hand with his own, cursing and laughing.
‘Abbie, if this was a race, I’d definitely be losing right now. So give me a fighting chance, won’t you?’
Then he pushed her back onto the bed and his mouth was on her thigh and his hands under her bottom, his stubble grazing her skin, and it felt amazing. A sweet pleasure and pain, which she never wanted to stop.
For a fleeting moment she wondered how it would be, with him. Whether she’d please him. Whether she’d be enough for Cal. Because she hadn’t done this for such a long time...
But Callum’s fingers pressed against her core and all thought shut off. Then his mouth found her centre and the wet heat on her thighs and his rhythmic kisses hypnotised her, drugged her, completely took over her brain and her body.
She felt her release rising and bucked against his mouth, hanging on, hanging on... ‘Cal, Cal! I need you inside me.’
‘Soon. Soon. Not yet.’
But just as she thought she couldn’t hold on any more, he pulled away. And smiled.
For one cold second she wondered what he was doing, then she understood.
Condom.
She could have told him it wasn’t necessary. She wanted to shout out, she wanted him inside her. Now. Nothing else mattered, the world could wait. Only he mattered. Them. This.
But then he was over her, pushing gently...so gently, too gently, so she raised her hips to meet him and he filled her, stripping her breath on a moan. She felt her core contract as he began to move inside her, his kisses greedy. Hungry. She tried to hang onto a single thread of control, but with Cal all control was lost.
It was scary and yet wonderful. Something she’d never thought she’d experience again; to meet someone, to do this.
His gaze connected with hers, his fingers entwined with hers, his body moved in time with hers as if they were two halves of one whole. Harder. Faster. Her release started to build, more intensely now, as she met him thrust for thrust. Then he rocked hard against her, moaning into her hair, her name on his lips over and over and she tightened around him. He was crying out and she with him, both racing to the edge. Both winning.
She couldn’t let him go. As the high began to recede she pulled him back to look at her, covering his face in kisses that came straight from her heart. And he stroked her hair, surely a derailed mess by now, and he smiled his heart-melting smile. ‘Well, I think I’d call that a draw, wee lass.’
‘Yes. That was definitely a win-win.’ But as she looked deep into those bluest eyes, at that beautiful face, as she breathed him in and wrapped him close, her heart squeezed so viciously at the thought of him leaving.
And she knew...
She was irrevocably lost.
* * *
It took Callum some time to find his equilibrium—actually, he doubted he’d ever find it properly again while he was under Abbie’s spell. He rolled onto his back, dragging in ragged breaths, and she wrapped herself into his arms, her legs lazily draped over his.
Meanwhile, he felt the furthest from lazy. His heart was thudding along at a rapid pace and his brain was whirling with a whole load of questions. How could it be possible to feel so connected with someone when logic told you it was a stupid idea? How could she have taken possession of his heart so quickly?
He wanted to move, to be alone with his thoughts and work out what the best thing to do would be for both of them, but didn’t want to disturb her. She looked so comfortable, so thoroughly satisfied; as if nothing was troubling her at all.
Maybe when he left here today, she’d slip from his mind. Maybe he’d forget her the moment he got on the plane.
Yeah, that was just wishful thinking. Reality was, he’d never forget her. She was bruised on his heart now.
She sighed and for a moment he thought she was falling asleep, but then she spoke. ‘I wish you weren’t going back to Scotland. I know it’s immensely selfish of me, but I really do wish you were here for a bit longer.’
Her honesty hit him hard in the solar plexus. She put words to the feelings he had and tried to hide from himself. ‘Yes. But I’ve got to go home. There is no debate there.’
‘For your Scottish Christmas.’
‘For my job, my brother. My life. I just happen to be going back in time for Christmas.’ Today had been the closest he’d be getting to the best of Christmas cheer, he reckoned. He couldn’t remember a time when putting up a Christmas tree had made him feel so much.
‘Do you have a going-home date?’
‘My ticket’s booked and paid for. I leave on the eighteenth.’
‘So soon?’ She wound her legs around his calves and tugged herself closer, and he kissed the top of her head, breathing her in and trying to comm
it her scent to memory.
She had so much to look forward to, she’d easily forget he’d ever been here. Even her house pulsed with the anticipation of the baby and a future; bags brimming with tiny clothes, nappies, toys in the corner of the lounge. She was moving forward while he was going back. ‘Ach, you’ll have the baby soon and I’ll just be the guy who bridged the waiting time until you got your family. You won’t miss me.’
‘Oh, I will.’ With a sad smile she squeezed against him and he caught the scent of her again. It felt as if it were part of him now. ‘What do you do for him? For Finn?’
Cal sat up at the mention of his brother’s name and the reality of what they faced. ‘He’s had a difficult recovery. Complicated. There was the frostbite, lower leg amputation, broken pelvis. Dislocated shoulder. Displaced collarbone. Minor head injury. He couldn’t drive for a long time so I took him back and forth to appointments. He had a lot of adjusting to do. A hell of a lot. He’s a physiotherapist, so he had some understanding of what’s required, but he’s so damned impulsive and impatient. And he loved playing rugby—any sport, really. So his whole life has changed. He was down for a long time.’
‘By down, do you mean depressed?’
He kept looking straight ahead because to see her soft eyes would make him give in to the emotion he kept firmly locked inside. ‘Aye. I had to keep watch...you know. A few times. I was worried he might...well, finish the job off altogether.’
He’d almost lost his brother over and over. Unable to do anything but watch as drink had almost pushed him over the edge. As darkness had shrouded him too many times. Abbie hitched herself up next to him and stroked her fingers down his cheek, pressed a kiss there.
‘That would have been so hard on you. Did he get help?’
‘In the end, yes. He did. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a natural optimist, but he was badly broken in body and spirit. It took some working out in his head to try to get better. But he still struggles with sleep and some pain, and yet with planning a ski trip and more climbing I get the impression he thinks he’s bloody Superman.’
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