Second Chance with the Best Man

by Katrina Cudmore

  Hannah winced. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Following Laurent’s lead, Hannah climbed out of the vehicle. The white walls of the house sparkled in the midday sun, the lush, well-maintained planting in the garden swaying in the light breeze. ‘It doesn’t look like you haven’t been here in years,’ she said, joining him as he walked up the gravelled path to the front door, glass panels at the side showing an open-plan living space with a huge sea-blue sofa and an off-white painted kitchen to the side, enormous windows running the length of the back wall with views over the bay.

  ‘I’ve paid for it to be maintained.’

  As Laurent placed a key in the lock she asked, ‘Weren’t you tempted to sell it?’

  Laurent ran a hand against the base of his neck. She longed to reach there as she’d done countless times in London, laughing when he groaned in pleasure, the tight knot which he frequently arrived home from work with loosening under her touch. ‘I thought about selling several times over the past few years but couldn’t bring myself to. But if business doesn’t improve I might be forced to.’

  ‘I didn’t realise things were that serious.’

  He shrugged and gestured for her to enter the house and said, ‘I’ll let Bleu out of the car. You can wait inside here or come out and join us if you decide it’s what you want to do.’

  As he walked away she asked, ‘Why did you decide we should come here today?’

  Stopping, he turned. His dark skin glowed in contrast to the whiteness of his button-down shirt. His hair caught in the breeze and he had to smooth it down. ‘I thought visiting here might be easier with you at my side.’

  She stared after him when he turned away, wondering if she’d heard his gently spoken answer correctly.

  For a few seconds indecision rooted her to the spot but then, seeing Laurent about to open the back door of the car, she called out and ran towards him.

  Coming to a stop, she smiled at him, her heart lifting as he returned her smile even though his held an element of puzzlement. ‘Thanks.’

  Despite her promises to harden herself to him, the power of their earlier lovemaking, the connection, the synchronicity between them that felt so instinctive and right made what followed inevitable.

  He reached for her, one hand on her waist, the other touching her cheek. He kissed her with an aching tenderness and her heart kicked both in fear and delight.

  * * *

  Even with his blood pounding in his ears Laurent could not ignore Bleu’s barking. With a groan he pulled away from Hannah and gave her a regretful smile.

  Her lips were swollen from their kiss, a deep blush on her skin.

  He backed away, away from the temptation of resuming their kiss, his need for Hannah more intense now than it had ever been before.

  Placing a hand on the rear door, he asked, ‘Are you certain you don’t want to stay inside?’

  Hannah shook her head. But then stepped to the side of the vehicle as though searching for cover.

  Opening the door, Laurent patted Bleu and spoke to him in a low comforting voice. Bleu’s barking ceased, to be replaced with a delighted wagging of his tail.

  Turning to Hannah, he gave her a triumphant smile. ‘See. I told you he responds to me. You have nothing to be concerned about.’

  But no sooner had he said those words than Bleu bounded out of the car, ran down the driveway and, turning in a wide arc, leapt over low hedging, before racing back towards them. Hannah yelped and ran behind him, her forehead digging into his back, her fingers coiling around the belt loops of his waistband.

  A wave of protectiveness for Hannah had him shout at Bleu as he neared them. ‘Non! Couche.’

  At his command Bleu came to an immediate stop, his head tilting to the side at his master’s never-before-heard yell.

  Reaching behind him, he took hold of Hannah’s hand and, pulling her around to stand at his side, he gave Bleu a further command. ‘Assieds.’

  Immediately Bleu sat.

  Hannah was shaking. Placing his arm around her, he pulled her into a hug. ‘Are you okay?’ She nodded yes, but still she shook. He ran a hand against her hair. His own heart was pounding, the strength of his instinctive need to protect her taking him aback. Against the lemon scent of her hair he whispered, ‘Wait here. I’ll lead Bleu inside.’

  She backed away from his hug, gave him a grateful smile that liquefied his heart and, glancing in Bleu’s direction, said, ‘No. I want to get closer to him.’

  Admiration swelled in his chest at the determination in her voice. And then the image of Hannah as a young child curled up in bed, shaking and terrified by the snarls of a dog, had him clasp his hands tightly in rage.

  He gulped down that rage and went to Bleu, whose tail swept across the driveway in large arcs of happiness when he approached, his head falling back in adoration, anticipating a rub, his brown eyes tracking every movement as though it were precious.

  The rage inside him flowed away as he rubbed Bleu, his love for this animal, who had been so weak and accepting of his fate when he had found him starved and dying in the woods, rooting him to the spot. Sudden, unexpected emotion stuffed the backs of his eyes. A vulnerability, a loneliness, a bewilderment that he couldn’t comprehend. Disconcerted, he tried to blink it away.

  Behind him, surprisingly close, he heard Hannah’s soft laugh. ‘Bleu reminds me of François when he looks at Lara—complete infatuation.’

  Turning, he grinned up at her. ‘And I adore him.’ Rubbing Bleu along the long length of his spine, he added, ‘Don’t I, boy? Aren’t you the bravest, most lovely dog ever?’

  Panting hard with happiness, Bleu rolled over onto his back, wanting his belly rubbed. Four giant legs and paws reached skywards like mini skyscrapers.

  Once again Hannah giggled. ‘That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen. You’re right. He is a complete marshmallow...albeit a donkey-sized marshmallow.’

  He held out his hand to her. ‘Come and crouch beside me. Rub him too if you feel like it.’

  With a worried look in Bleu’s direction, she tentatively took Laurent’s hand. She was still trembling. He gave it a little squeeze. For a moment she paused in her tentative steps towards Bleu. He inhaled a breath at the question in her gaze—can I trust in you? Instinctively he wanted to pull his hand away, tell her not to trust in him, not to invest any emotion in him, but shame and annoyance at that reaction had him smile and nod encouragingly instead.

  When she was crouched at his side, she reached slowly for Bleu’s belly and rubbed him with short jerky movements. Taking her hand once again in his, Laurent guided her to make longer, more soothing movements. He heard her gasp in, but then as her hand moved against Bleu time and time again and Bleu gave a comical yawn of contentment, she exhaled a long breath of relief.

  ‘Good job.’

  She smiled proudly at his praise. His heart tumbled at how her eyes were sparkling with relief and joy.

  ‘It’s hot out here.’ He stood and added, ‘Let’s go inside. Bleu should be in the shade.’

  Positioning Hannah to one side and Bleu to his other, he led them into the house. Taking Bleu immediately into the storage room to the rear of the kitchen, he plucked some beach towels out of a cupboard and made a temporary bed for Bleu while asking Hannah to find a suitable bowl in the kitchen for him to drink from.

  When she appeared at the door with the bowl he nodded for her to place it by Bleu’s bed. Lowering it down, she tentatively moved her hand towards Bleu’s head, placing it a short distance away from where he was lying on his side curled up, ready for yet another sleep. Bleu slowly, instinctively, as though sensing Hannah’s fear, nudged his nose towards her hand and sniffed it. Then withdrawing, he tucked his head down towards his chest and closed his eyes.

  Hannah stood and smiled down at Bleu. ‘I think I could actually fall in love
with him.’

  Laurent could understand the wonder in her voice. ‘There’s something special about him, isn’t there?’

  Hannah nodded and then gave him a teasing smile. ‘I thought Bleu was lucky that you found him when he was so ill, but maybe you’re the lucky one to find him.’

  Laurent gave a low disbelieving laugh. ‘I was just thinking that. These simultaneous thoughts are getting out of control.’

  Hannah placed her fingertips to her temples. ‘Okay, let me guess what you’re now thinking.’ She scrunched her face, as though deep in thought. ‘You’re going to suggest we go for a swim.’

  ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘It could be telepathy...or the fact that you’re standing there holding beach towels.’ Grinning, she walked out of the room. ‘I’ll go and fetch my bikini from my suitcase.’

  Laurent knew Bleu would be comfortable in the shade of the room and, with one final pat for him, closed the door to the room gently.

  After showing Hannah to a guest bedroom where she could change, he threw on swimming trunks he’d brought to the house five years ago, fetched the picnic basket from the car and then, going back into the living room, he opened the doors that led out onto the decked terrace. Stepping out, he inhaled a deep breath of sea air and turned and regarded the house. The previous owners had modernised both the interior and exterior, but the overall house structure and the sweeping views had remained the same.

  The last time he’d visited the house, five years ago, he’d only stayed long enough to unpack. Unable to handle the sickening thought of his father spending all those months here when he should have been at home.

  He’d driven back to the airport, not bothering to even pack his luggage, and taken the first flight back to London.

  He walked to the pool, stared down at the tiled dolphin at the base, which he and François had spent endless hours racing to.

  At the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned and smiled as Hannah tugged down her blue-and-white striped dress, the yellow straps of her bikini visible. She came and stood beside him. ‘This view is amazing.’ Then with concern she asked, ‘What are you thinking about?’

  He led her towards the steps down to the beach. ‘I thought you were telepathic.’

  From behind him, her flip-flops slapping on the concrete steps, she asked gently, ‘Are you remembering your childhood here?’

  He waited until they reached the beach, his bare feet sinking into the soft sand, to answer. ‘Our time here was idyllic. I lost all of that when I found out about my father... He had always refused to answer my question as to where he was staying when he called home. For the past few years I’ve been incredibly angry with him for sullying my memories, but maybe it’s time that I create new ones for this place.’

  She nodded but there was a sadness to her expression that punched him in the gut. He smiled, wanting to lighten the mood, and headed in the direction of the sea. ‘Starting today.’

  He went further down the beach, dropped the picnic basket and blanket onto the sand.

  She was still at the steps eyeing him dubiously but then walked towards him with a mischievous expression. ‘So what memories will you have of today?’

  He waited until she came to a stop in front of him before he answered. ‘You rubbing Bleu’s belly, being brave and determined.’

  Something low and carnal throbbed in him when she pulled off her dress to reveal her yellow bikini. An inch of the soft flesh of her high breasts was exposed, the strings of the bottoms tied into a bow on the swell of her hips. He tucked her hair that was lifting in the breeze behind her ear. ‘I’ll remember also how incredibly beautiful you looked.’ He lowered his head, whispered against her ear, ‘I’ll remember how I was woken this morning...and what followed.’

  She leant into him, her breasts skimming against his chest for a much too brief second. And then she was stepping back from him, giving him a look full of bravado that didn’t match the heat in her cheeks. She called to him when she was well out of his reach, pointing towards the sea. ‘You can also remember how I beat you in a race to the swimming platform.’

  Enjoying the sight of her running to the breaking surf, he allowed her to gain a considerable lead on him. Then, breaking into a light jog, he followed her, diving into the sea, gasping at the coldness. Out on the sea platform, he waited for her by the ladder.

  When she arrived, she looked dumbfounded when he reached down to help her out. ‘How on earth did you get here before me?’

  He laughed and pulled her up. ‘You really need to learn to swim in a straight line.’

  For a while they lay in silence on the platform, staring up at the wisps of clouds that were passing overhead.

  Then with a loud exhalation, Hannah admitted with a laugh, ‘I’m so out of breath.’

  Her chest heaved up and down and he fought the temptation to place his hand on her wet skin. ‘I’ll have to teach you how to sea-swim properly some time.’

  ‘You’ve promised me that numerous times.’ Her gaze darted away from his but he saw the disquiet that flickered there. Shielding her eyes, she added, ‘Anyway, my sea-swimming is better than your tennis.’

  ‘You beat me once.’

  She grinned. ‘Just saying. What height advantage do you have over me?’

  ‘You well know that it’s eight inches.’

  Her eyes twinkled. ‘A whole eight inches.’

  And suddenly their conversation was taking on a whole different meaning. He leaned over her, deliberately being provocative, his mouth close to hers, his gaze playing with hers. ‘It’s what you do with those eight inches that counts.’

  Her eyelids fluttered. ‘Care to remind me again?’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure that I do.’

  She wriggled, her hip bumping against his belly. Her fingertips trailed over the valley between her breasts. ‘Are you really certain about that?’

  ‘I’ve never been able to resist you, have I?’ And then his mouth was on hers, elation spreading through him at her softness, at her warmth, at her groan. His hand ran over her ribs, down over her stomach and over her hips. Her hands gripped his neck, her thumbs stroking the indent at the top of his spine.

  Her body pressed upwards against his. Knowing he was about to lose control, he broke away from her mouth, groaned against her ear. ‘If we don’t stop we’ll be arrested.’

  Lying down next to her, he took hold of her hand. He could suggest that they go back to the house. Finish this off in private. But the need to do right by Hannah had him lie there beside her instead.

  ‘Lara’s so happy with Villa Marchand. It was such a thoughtful and generous present.’

  He turned his head, considered her. ‘I would almost swear that Lara deliberately pinched me when I hugged her goodbye earlier. Does she know about us?’

  Hannah gave him a panicked and guilty look but then, with a shrug, she regained some of her composure and said, ‘I told her I seduced you.’

  He laughed at that. And then realised she was being serious. ‘Please tell me that you didn’t.’

  Her answer was a smug smile.

  He shook his head and something lodged in his throat when he remembered François’s earlier delight whenever he looked at Lara, his buoyant mood and excitement for their honeymoon in the Galapagos Islands, how at home they both had seemed in their new house. ‘Villa Marchand will be a great family home.’

  Taking her hand from his, Hannah propped herself up onto her elbow. ‘François told you?’

  He feigned confusion. ‘Told me what?’

  Clearly thrown, she shrugged. ‘Nothing. Forget about it.’

  He frowned and asked, ‘Is there something I should know?’ but then, unable to stop himself, he laughed and added, ‘You’re so atrocious at lying.’

  She gave him a playful slap on his arm. �
�My parents brought me up to be honest.’

  He was sorely tempted to kiss her again, run his hands over her body, but instead he admitted, ‘I didn’t realise how excited I’d be at the prospect of being an uncle.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  HANNAH COULD FEEL her pretence that she was in control and wasn’t about to spew out all the thoughts and emotions crowding her brain and making her heart crumble at Laurent’s words. She wanted to say that based on his love for Bleu he would make for a brilliant uncle. She wanted to point out to him that, not only would he be an incredible uncle, but, if he allowed himself, he would be an amazing father too. She turned onto her back. Closed her eyes.

  She couldn’t look at him today without her pulse soaring. But as her pulse soared, her heart felt as though it were slowly melting into nothing. It felt as though two beings were inhabiting her body: a physical self who was hyperaware of the chemistry spinning between them, and an emotional self, whose soul was aching with the need to connect fully with him.

  Opening her eyes to the brilliant blue sky overhead, she said, ‘I spoke to my parents before we left the château. They were asking about you.’

  ‘In a good or bad way?’

  ‘Good, of course. Why would you think otherwise?’

  ‘I thought your parents, your family in general, might not be too happy with me.’

  Despite her having invited him to visit her parents on several occasions, Laurent had always had an excuse as to why he couldn’t. But six months into their relationship she’d finally persuaded him to go with her. The weekend had been a disaster. Laurent had been disengaged, his reluctance and caution around her parents totally throwing her. ‘They liked you but would admit that they never really got to know you.’ Pausing, she added, ‘The weekend you visited them with me, you seemed uncomfortable.’ She swallowed and added, ‘Didn’t you like them?’

  He sat up and stared at her. ‘Dieu! Of course I liked them.’

  Hurt and bewilderment surged inside her, some of it months old, some fresh from the past twenty-four hours. Sitting too, she asked, ‘Did you think I was trying to put pressure on you by inviting you to visit my parents? Because that wasn’t the case. I wanted you to get to know them because they’re fantastic people...and I love them to bits.’