Daniel cocked his head slightly and tried to picture her that way; he loved the short style she wore now as it left her face open and highlighted the sharpness of her bone structure. Her warm eyes dominated her face. Young women often used curtains of hair to hide behind, flipping and fiddling with it in ways that drove a man to distraction, and not in a good way.
Giselle had long blonde hair that she ironed flat until it hung around her face like a blank, bland curtain. Daniel had hated it. It had been everywhere he looked in his flat: in the shower, in his brush, on every suit he owned. She’d shed worse than a bloody cat.
Daniel pushed the memory away and reached for one of the mugs on the tray, raising it in toast to Mia before inhaling the steam and taking a quick sip. The brew was strong enough to curl his toes and he took a bigger gulp and enjoyed the pleasure-pain of the slightly too hot burn spreading through his belly.
Mia bent to place the tray on the floor and his body twitched at the sight of her heart-shaped bottom curving before him. He turned quickly towards the window and stared blindly out at the lashing rain, willing his libido to settle down. Friends, friends, friends, he chanted to himself.
‘What about friends?’ Mia said. She took position next to him, clutching her own mug of tea as she surveyed the miserable weather before them. She stood close enough that their shoulders were practically touching and Daniel raised his mug to his mouth, brushing her arm with his, unable to stop himself. He kept the motion ultra-casual, catching his breath when she leaned towards him until her head rested against his shoulder. It was the first time she had initiated contact between them.
‘What about friends?’ she asked again and he realised he had spoken aloud before.
‘Oh, I was just thinking about my best friend and his brother, you know, wondering how they’re getting on.’ It sounded weak to his ears, but Mia appeared to take it at face value.
‘Have you spoken to anyone since you came here?’ Her voice was soft, and Daniel couldn’t quite get a measure on her tone.
‘I’ve sent a couple of texts—to my agent.’ He hesitated then took the plunge. ‘To a some-time girlfriend of mine to break it off.’ At least she would know he wasn’t attached, should that information be of interest to her. He rushed on. ‘I also sent an email to Aaron. He keeps an eye on my money and I didn’t want to worry him when I took off. He was the one I was just thinking about actually.’
‘Agent?’ She lifted her head, eyes bright with interest. She didn’t mention the girlfriend and he couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. Stupid idiot.
‘Umm, yeah, sounds more glamorous than it is, but I’m a professional photographer. Was, I should say, before I burnt myself out and fell off my perch. Wound up on your doorstep, puked in your hedge; you know the rest.’
Daniel felt his face warm as he remembered the disgrace of his first arrival. What a bloody mess he’d been. He still felt a little rough around the edges and although he’d taken a ton of shots around the house and the barn, he still wasn’t feeling his muse. He was trying to keep a record of progress for Mia and still had it in his mind to put together a bit of a portfolio for her. Another thing he hadn’t mentioned to her. Those things were starting to add up.
***
She studied the man beside her. The oh-so casual mention of an ex hadn’t escaped her attention. Was he fishing to see if she was interested? Should she snap up the bait? Daniel’s warm, masculine presence had lifted some of the self-imposed burdens from her shoulders.
She wasn’t incapable of making decisions, but having someone to act as a sounding board helped enormously. Especially when that someone bought into her vision of the house, and could see past the wreck it was to visualise the home it would be. He didn’t care what job she gave him to do, in fact he volunteered for the nastiest tasks. He had even fought a heroic battle to finally tame the evil floor sander, for which Mia would be ever grateful.
It was nice to have someone to cook for as well. It spoke to the nurturing part of her soul and it gave Mia a soft glow of satisfaction every time Daniel smiled or passed comment on the meals she prepared for him. As though he could read her mind, Daniel nudged Mia’s arm gently. ‘Did you bring that shortbread up here to torture me or are you going to share?’
Mia glanced up into green eyes that seemed to delve deeper than she wanted and she fought the natural urge to duck her gaze away. She watched the dark pupils expand to swallow some of his irises and froze like a rabbit when he leaned in closer. Her eyelids shuttered down and then up as she waited for the brush of his lips and blinked in surprise when Daniel planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘Don’t try and distract me with that limpid gaze, woman, surrender the biscuits!’
Mia didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved that Daniel had broken the tension of the moment. She huffed a laugh and grabbed the plate of shortbread up, clutching it protectively against her body, her arm shielding the plate. ‘Mine all mine, big man,’ she taunted and then squealed when he closed in on her until she was trapped in the corner of the room.
Daniel backed her further up, bracing himself over her with a hand planted against the wall on either side of her head. He pressed in closer, hovered over her mouth a moment, and she caught her breath again. Raising his hand, he traced a finger across her brow, down her cheek then lower. He circled the slight indent at the base of her throat. The caress lit her on fire and she longed for him to close the gap between their lips and lay claim to her mouth.
‘There are things you can tease a man about, Mia, and things that are no laughing matter.’ She heard the catch in his voice and felt a corresponding shiver at his husky tone. She was right there, primed and ready for him, and every cell in her body called out to him to touch her.
Kiss me, Daniel. She held the thought in her head as the moment stretched to infinity between them—an impasse neither seemed willing to break. Feeling like her body would explode with tension, she knew she had to do something. Mustering the courage, she urged herself to lean towards him to press her lips to his.
Daniel moved before she did, running his finger down the centre of Mia’s breastbone. She shuddered again and opened her mouth to speak, to encourage his touch when his fingers suddenly lifted and he grabbed a handful of the shortbread and stuffed as much as he could in his mouth at once.
She could only gape and clutch the empty plate as he gave her an outrageous wink then backed away towards the window to recapture his tea and wash down the mouthful threatening to choke him. With a glare of mock indignation, Mia spun on her heel and stomped her way back down to the kitchen. Daniel had given her an out, and they both knew it.
The phone rang as Mia placed the plates on the table for supper, surprising her as few people called other than Richard or Madeline and they had left less than an hour before. They’d finished the beach room finally, and she needed to decide what to do next. Move on to another room, or start the boring, but essential larger decorating jobs like the hallway and first floor landing areas.
She gave a half shrug towards Daniel as she crossed to answer it, assuming it was one of those ubiquitous PPI sales calls. She lifted the handset to her ear expecting the usual automated voice.
‘Eunomia.’ The slightly distracted tone as much as the use of her full name identified the caller.
‘Hello, Dad.’ She braced herself. George Thorpe wasn’t one for an idle catch-up.
‘I thought I’d better give you a call and let you know that your mother is a bit under the weather.’
Under the influence more like. Mia bit her lip against the unkind, if truthful thought. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. What did the doctor say? You promised me you would take her to see him.’
‘Oh, well. I was going to, but you know she doesn’t like a fuss and I’ve been tied up with this paper I’ve been working on. It’s a fascinating treatise on the development of religious worship on the island of Delos.’ Mia closed her eyes while her father rattled on about his work. If he
paid half as much attention to his wife as he did to the long-dead ancient Greeks, things might be better between them.
‘Did you clear out the drinks cabinet like we discussed?’ Her parents’ resolute determination to ignore the reality of Vivian’s alcoholism had been the subject of several difficult conversations between Mia and her father. She was also conscious that she was washing her dirty laundry in front of Daniel but it couldn’t be helped.
George’s sigh gusted in her ear. ‘The contents of the drinks cabinet aren’t going to be a problem. Your mother took a bit of a tumble and she’s in the hospital with a badly broken leg. She’ll be there for at least two weeks.’
Mia pressed her forehead against the cool wall and tried to calm her racing heart. ‘Oh, God. Is she all right?’
‘They’re taking good care of her.’ Which wasn’t a proper answer at all. Her father took another audible deep breath. ‘So I was wondering if you might come home for a bit. To visit your mother, of course. But, I thought you’d give me a hand taking care of the house. The doctors say she’ll need assistance with her rehabilitation afterwards.’
Guilt settled hot and heavy on her shoulders. ‘I can come home for a visit, of course. But I can’t stay long. There’s so much to do here and you’d be better off getting a nurse or a proper home help in.’
Mia raised her eyes to meet Daniel’s, wondering what he thought of the side of the conversation that he was privy to. She probably sounded cruel, but the thought of getting sucked back into the George and Vivian show was more than she could stand. Her parents had spent years locked together in a web of regret and resentment. Just the thought of walking back into the unhappy home of her childhood made her stomach queasy.
‘How can you be busy? You’ve got no job. Your mother needs you. I need you. I have lectures to give and an important dinner with my colleagues next week. I need you to cater for it and act as hostess in your mother’s absence.’ Ah, now we’re getting to the heart of it. Her father’s career came before everything, as usual.
‘I am sure your colleagues will understand if you postpone under the circumstances.’ There was no getting out of it; she would have to go home. ‘Can you give me a couple of days to sort things out here?’
‘If that’s what you need, I can muddle through to the weekend. You’ll at least help me make the arrangements? You are so much better at the practicalities.’ That was true. With their father wrapped up in his work and their mother self-medicating with gin, it had fallen to Mia to take care of her sisters and run the house.
‘I’ll speak to Kiki and see if I can stay with her.’ Staying with her sister and the git she called a husband wouldn’t be a picnic, but she’d get to see the kids and maybe get a chance to talk to Kiki at the same time.
‘Will you stop using those ludicrous nicknames? You and your sisters all have perfectly good names.’ There was no point in pursuing the old argument so Mia ignored the sharp retort. Their father had named them after the Horae—a trio of minor Greek goddesses, fathered by Zeus. The teasing at school had been painful, but served as another cord to bind the three of them closer together.
Mia watched Daniel gather their cooling plates of food and slide them into the lower shelf of the Aga to keep warm. He pointed towards the door and raised a brow, clearly offering to give her some privacy. She shook her head and held out her hand towards him, relieved when he crossed to her side and gathered her small hand between his own. He chafed her knuckles gently with his thumb.
Mia stared absently at their joined hands as she listened to her father go on and on about how busy he was, how hard it was for him to cope with work and hospital visits. How vital the dinner was to the future grant plans for his department. She wasn’t prepared for the bombshell when it landed. ‘And of course the staff at the Royal Brook are taking great care of your mother.’
At the mention of the hospital where she’d had to identify Jamie’s body, her legs gave out and she found herself slumped on the floor, staring up at Daniel. With a worried frown creasing his brow, he knelt beside her. The oxygen she hadn’t missed from her lungs came rushing back and the first sob shook her whole body. A worried squawk came from the handset dangling between her fingers. She tried to speak, tried to take a calming breath, but grief rose like a wave, rolled her over and dragged her into its salty, bitter depths.
She barely resisted as Daniel eased her fingers free of the handset and exchanged a few quiet words with her father before hanging it back up on the wall. Strong arms banded around her back as he picked her up and carried her towards the kitchen table. He found a seat, tugged her down into his lap after him. His warm arms curled around her, cocooning her, and Mia let him press her face into the crook of his neck.
His hands circled around her back and up to her shoulders, massaging gently, soothing the tension from her body. Mia pressed her nose deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply, allowing the familiar warm, masculine scent of this man to fill her senses as she drenched his neck and shoulder in her tears.
Chapter Eleven
He hadn’t got the full gist of the conversation between Mia and her dad, had tried hard not to listen to something obviously personal and painful. Hot, wet tears slipped down between his collar and his neck, soaking his skin, and he clenched his jaw against the virulent anger stirring in his gut. He wanted to smash something, grab up a sword and slay the dragon who’d caused this precious woman so much hurt. He tightened his arms around her back.
A harsh sob ripped from her throat and Daniel pushed away his feelings. This wasn’t about him. Mia needed him to be a man and take her pain. Even if every drop of salt seared him to the bone, he would take her tears and be the shoulder she needed to cry on.
‘I’ve got you. It’s okay, love; let it all out.’ He cupped her head, pressing her face into his shoulder. ‘Is it your mum?’
‘Yes, no. She’s…it’s the hospital…and Jamie…I’m sorry…’ Her voice rose on a wail of such pain it hurt him to hear it. They’d been rubbing along so well together he’d almost forgotten about the invisible barrier of her husband between them. There was no way he could compete with the love she still held for him. He hadn’t even been in the running.
Shattered, he squeezed his eyes tight against the sting of his own tears and laid his cheek upon the top of her head. ‘Shh. Don’t be sorry; don’t ever be sorry for how you feel,’ he murmured. Something he needed to remember too. She was a woman worth loving, even if they would never be more than friends.
On and on, the storm of her grief battered him and he held firm, giving her an anchor until she subsided into a series of hiccupping sobs. She shivered, burrowing closer to him, and he rubbed her arms to try and soothe the goose bumps forming. He stood gingerly, tucking his hands under her thighs to take her slight weight. Mia wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and pressed closer, clinging like a monkey, and Daniel adjusted his grip until he knew he could hold her safely.
He didn’t speak as he slowly climbed the stairs to the first floor and turned towards his room. He didn’t want to invade Mia’s space without invitation and she had always been protective of her room on the top floor; besides he knew where everything he needed was in his own room. Forgoing the light switch, not willing to let go of his precious burden, he kicked the door wide and navigated to the big bed. She didn’t speak, but sat on the edge at his gentle urging. He bent to slip off her shoes. The blouse she wore had rucked up around her middle.
A quick rummage in his bedside drawer produced a soft T-shirt. It was an old favourite band shirt from his youth, the pattern barely visible any more and the cotton washed so often it was as soft as butter. He unbuttoned her blouse, left her bra in place and pulled the T-shirt over Mia’s head. ‘Stand up for me a minute?’
Her movements robotic, she stood. The blank stare on her face worried him more than the hysterical weeping from before. Taking care not to touch her bare skin, Daniel unfastened her jeans and helped her step o
ut of them. He tugged back the thick quilt and then stopped and turned to Mia, cupping her face gently in his hands as he raised her face to look at him.
‘Do you want to sleep here tonight, or would you rather go up to your room?’ he asked.
‘Here, please,’ she whispered. ‘Here with you.’
That wasn’t what he’d meant. Not at all. The sofa downstairs had served him well enough and he’d planned on tucking her in and leaving her in peace. If company was what she needed right now then it was the least he could offer, given how much she’d done for him.
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and urged her towards the bed, scooting her across the sheet as he climbed in beside her and drew the quilt up over them. Mia curled in to him, and he pulled her closer, shielding her body as though he could protect her from the pain she was suffering. She nestled in against his shoulder like a kitten seeking warmth. He lay back and stared upwards, the light from the bathroom casting shadows across the ceiling.
‘I didn’t mean to lose it just now. Mum’s in hospital, the same one where they took Jamie, you know, afterwards. I told you last time it’s the strangest things that set me off.’ She shook her head to ward off the tears gathering in her throat. ‘Anyway, things with Mum and Dad have never been easy. I think they must have loved each other once, but when I look at them through grown-up eyes they seem such an odd match. He’s a scholar, career-focused and obsessed with all things ancient Greek. She drinks.’
There was so much pain wrapped up in those two words. Shame washed over him. How many people had he hurt like this in his own pursuit of oblivion? She needed to know. ‘I drank. Took stuff too. Nothing too hard, pills, a bit of blow now and then. It started as a way to handle the attention, a quick shot or a sniff to calm my nerves. Became a bit more than that, but everyone around me was doing it so it felt normal. If I hadn’t left town when I did, I’m not sure where I might have ended up.’
Sunrise at Butterfly Cove Page 8
