by Holly Martin
‘I’m just making a hot chocolate, do you want one?’
‘Yes please.’
‘I have white chocolate or crème brûlée?’
He smiled. No ordinary hot chocolate for Freya Greene. ‘White chocolate would be great.’
She disappeared back into the kitchen and Rome followed her in. She was dressed only in a midnight-blue satin robe which finished several inches above her knee, revealing golden bare legs that he had a sudden desire to stroke. His mind was suddenly filled with the possibilities of what she was wearing under that robe.
She turned to face him and his eyes snapped back up to her face.
‘How come you’re up this early?’ Rome asked.
She shrugged. ‘I couldn’t sleep, thought I’d get up and watch the sun rise.’
‘Me too. I love it down on the beach at this time of the day, it’s so peaceful and quiet. I had weird dreams and I needed to blow them away in the early morning sea breeze.’
‘Yeah, I had weird dreams too.’ She handed him his hot chocolate and wandered out into the lounge. She sat down on the sofa and he sat down next to her. ‘What was yours about?’
Rome hesitated. There was no way he wanted Freya to know that he was having weird freaky dreams about the grim reaper taking him away or his dead ex, zombified and horribly disfigured. She would get up and run a million miles away from him. He gave an answer which he hoped was appropriate.
‘Paige.’
‘Oh.’ Freya was silent for a while. ‘You must miss her terribly.’
He thought about this because he really didn’t. Not any more. And what kind of horrible person did that make him? It had been six years but he knew people who had lost loved ones many years before Paige had died and they still missed them. He hadn’t known Paige for long, only just over eighteen months, but he had loved her. Well, at the time he thought he had, now he wasn’t so sure. He felt guilty about that. And he felt guilty that in his heart he knew he was ready to move on. He decided not to answer Freya’s question for fear of losing any kind of respect in Freya’s eyes.
‘What was your dream about?’ he asked.
‘Oh… nothing really. You were there. Some other people,’ Freya said, vaguely, and he got the sense she wasn’t happy talking about her dreams either.
They both took sips from their drinks and lapsed into an easy, contented silence. Rome put his drink down on the table for a moment as he got more comfortable on the sofa and noticed the book on the table. It was his. He always carried a book around with him even though he never got much chance to read at work. He loved non-fiction books, most of them were encyclopaedic in content, facts about sea creatures, animals, history of technology, space, weird cultures or traditions of the world. He loved learning little interesting facts about the world he lived in. His head was filled with completely worthless facts that weren’t at all useful to know but, on the rare occasion that he took part in the pub quizzes on the island, his team were almost always guaranteed to win.
He picked up the book, The Book of Love. ‘Are you reading this?’
Freya blushed a little. ‘It looked like it might be an interesting read. I’m more surprised that you’re reading it. You don’t strike me as a hearts and rainbows kind of person.’
He laughed. ‘This is not really a cutesy sparkles and puppies kind of book. This has loads of interesting facts about old wedding traditions and how different cultures around the world celebrate love. It’s very interesting.’
Freya turned to face him and curled her legs underneath her. ‘Tell me some of the interesting facts you’ve found out about love.’
‘Well in Finland, they have these wife-carrying championships, where the men will carry their wives or girlfriends over their shoulders while they have to complete an array of different challenges and obstacles. The champion wins their wife’s weight in beer.’
‘I love that. Carrying a really skinny wife means you’d get a lot less beer.’
‘That’s true, so not always a benefit. In Denmark they give snowdrops to their beloved instead of red roses.’
‘That’s so cool. I wonder why our culture chose roses instead.’
‘I’m sure I’ll find that out in the book. There’s so many facts in there.’
‘What else?’ Freya said, keenly, and he loved that she seemed to enjoy listening to these facts as much as he enjoyed finding them out.
‘Wales celebrate Valentine’s Day but they also celebrate St Dwynwen’s Day on January twenty-fifth. I’m sure I’m pronouncing her name wrong. She is the patron saint of lovers and traditionally men would give the women they love a spoon.’
Freya laughed. ‘How romantic.’
‘They were wooden hand-carved spoons, not just some old teaspoon.’
‘Oh that’s actually quite sweet.’
‘Yes, the Welsh have quite a few sweet traditions. The Chinese though, not so much. An engaged couple will dissect a chicken’s liver and, if it’s healthy, then it’s a good omen and they can set the date of their wedding.’
‘Ewww, nothing says love like a dissected chicken’s liver.’
‘I know. As I said, this book is not exactly cute.’
‘I love it, it’s so funny. And I love listening to you talk about these things, you get so passionate about your facts.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m a geek, I own that.’
‘And I love your geekery.’
He smiled with fondness for her. She never seemed to find him boring and he loved that about her.
She finished her drink and put it down on the table and stood up. ‘Well, I might try to go back to sleep for an hour or so, before I have to get up for work.’
Rome nodded. ‘I’ll probably go back home and try to do the same.’ He didn’t relish that thought. Here with Freya, he felt happy and content.
‘You can stay here if you want, rather than going all the way back home.’
Christ, what an invite. He scrambled to his feet quickly before she changed her mind.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, softly, and for the briefest of seconds he saw confusion cross her face.
She nodded and walked into the bedroom and he followed her. God, he was suddenly nervous and he didn’t know why. They were just two friends who were going to share a bed together. But their friendship had never really been one that was particularly tactile. They didn’t really hug like she did with Eden and Bella and they’d certainly not done this before. She disappeared inside her walk-in wardrobe and he took off his shoes, jeans and t-shirt and got into bed.
She popped her head around the door holding what looked like a pillow. ‘Do you want—’ She stared at him sitting in her bed, her eyes wide for a second, before she seemingly threw the pillow back into the cupboard and hurried across the room so fast she nearly skidded into the wall. She ditched her robe, revealing tiny shorts and a little vest, and climbed into bed next to him and turned off the bedside light.
He lay there in the muted darkness as the pink glow of the early sunrise lit up the room. He frowned with confusion.
‘You meant stay on the sofa, didn’t you?’ Rome said and Freya burst out laughing into uncontrollable giggles.
‘Yes I did.’
‘Crap. I’m so sorry, I’ll go and sleep on the sofa.’
He made a move to get out of bed before Freya suddenly leaned across him, pinning him to the mattress with her weight. ‘Stay where you are. We’re friends, we can sleep in the same bed as each other without it being awkward.’
‘I think we’re already past that. I just got undressed and got into your bed.’
Freya giggled again. ‘It’s fine, go to sleep.’
She was still holding him down and he was suddenly hyperaware of her warm, beautiful body over his, her leg hooked over his thigh, her hand on his bare chest. If she moved her leg a few more inches higher, she was going to know how turned on he was and this was suddenly going to get a hell of a lot more awkward.
And now he was staying,
surely she should let him go and move back onto her side of the bed, but she was showing no sign of moving.
There was no way in hell he was getting back to sleep now. He was so wired he was probably never getting back to sleep ever again. He didn’t think Freya was going to sleep any time soon either; her heart was hammering against her chest.
God, this was heaven and hell all at the same time.
If he was any other man, he would have rolled on top of her and, if she was willing, just started making love to her. He wanted that more than anything but this was Freya, his best friend. There was no way he was going to do anything to ruin that.
Though his body didn’t seem to agree. Quite without his permission, his hand snaked up to hold her back, his fingers caressing across her bare flesh, just above the top of her vest. That wasn’t safe. He slid his hand up further to cup the back of her neck, stroking her hair, echoing how he had held her after her fall off the roof.
‘And you’re sure this isn’t awkward?’
‘Not one bit.’ Her voice was high with tension. ‘Go to sleep.’
He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything other than the woman in his arms, though that still wasn’t going to help him go to sleep.
Freya woke a few hours later with the sun streaming through the window, her face resting on Rome Lancaster’s bare chest, his arms wrapped around her. She smiled; this was where she belonged.
She lifted her head slightly to look at him and saw he was fast asleep. He looked so beautiful and peaceful as he lay there sleeping, not plagued by the dreams that haunted him. Last night had not been the first time he had turned up at her flat in the early hours of the morning, as if somehow he felt safer being around her. She knew that he had bad dreams about Paige although he’d never gone into the specifics of it. To lose his fiancée in such awful circumstances must have been very traumatic for him, but sadly the nightmares were a sign that he probably wasn’t over her yet and maybe never would be.
She remembered her own dreams that had woken her up before Rome’s arrival and she couldn’t help but smile. She had dreamed about her wedding day to Rome too many times to count. It was silly, she knew that. The little looks and touches he had given her over the last few weeks and months indicated that perhaps he had some feelings for her but nothing to suggest that he was ready to get married to her or that he ever would be. But that hadn’t stopped her dreams from acting out that wonderful scenario, from the simple beach wedding surrounded by only a handful of family and friends, the pretty beach dress she would wear, and the way that Rome would look at her with absolute love in his eyes when she stepped up by his side. She knew it was crazy but she couldn’t simply turn those feelings off just because they were inappropriate.
She suddenly realised her cheek was wet and she looked down and realised there was a small patch of drool on Rome’s chest. Her heart leapt with horror. She never drooled in her sleep, why had her body decided that now was an opportune moment to start? She quickly tried to wipe it off with her fingers, realising, as she was doing it, that what she was actually doing was stroking his chest.
His eyelashes fluttered as his sleeping body registered what she was doing and unconsciously he shifted her tighter against him. And that’s when she realised where his hands was. One arm was tight around her back, the other hand was cupping her bum cheek. His hand wasn’t even over the top of her shorts, it had somehow slipped beneath the material and was holding onto her bare bum as if his life depended on it.
Freya suppressed a giggle, her body shuddering slightly as she tried to hold it in. Rome was the least likely person in the world to surreptitiously try to grab her arse. Where other men might pretend to be asleep in this situation while they ‘accidentally’ had a little squeeze, she knew Rome would never do that. He had been embarrassed enough a few hours before when he had misunderstood her offer to stay. He had been so awkward and mortified by it, she just wanted to hug him, which was how she’d ended up in this position in the first place.
She didn’t want Rome to wake up and be embarrassed, not least because it would reduce the chance of them ever sharing a bed again. She decided to get up and out of bed before he woke up fully and realised where his hand was.
She tried to extricate herself from his arms but he groaned softly and held her tighter.
‘Don’t go,’ he whispered, still clearly asleep.
He was probably dreaming about Paige and her heart ached for him and hurt for herself in equal measure. Would he always love his ex? Would he ever be able to get over her?
The worst thing was, she’d been here before. There had been three people in her relationship with Jake, her ex-fiancé. Lizzie was Jake’s best friend, ex-girlfriend, neighbour and the first person he had ever been in love with. Lizzie had been round their house every day and they were always very close. When Freya had questioned their relationship, Jake had insisted they were just friends, that he had got over her many years before and he simply wasn’t interested in Lizzie like that any more. Freya had believed it and even though she often felt like the third wheel in her own relationship as Jake and Lizzie shared all these little in-jokes and history, she had trusted him. Right up until she had walked in on them in bed together. She had been with Jake for eight years and in that time he had never gotten over his ex. He had never loved her as much as he loved Lizzie.
That day she had caught them was imprinted on her mind, walking in on him, clearly having way more fun than she’d seen him have before, moaning and shouting and the words she’d never forget.
‘It’s never this good with Freya,’ Jake had said.
Lizzie had laughed. ‘You have nice sex with Freya.’
‘Yes it’s nice. Sex with you is always incredible.’
That had hurt. Eight years and Jake had thought the sex was just nice. It had never been incredible for him. It had never been incredible for her either but as he had been her only boyfriend she had nothing else to compare it to. Sex always seemed to be over way too quickly and left her feeling mostly unsatisfied. But clearly the problem had been with her, not him, as Lizzie had been having a whale of a time.
There’d been no one for Freya since. Even the lovely Roberto she’d met on her holiday in Italy, who had been sexy, charming and attentive, hadn’t tempted her out of her dry patch. They’d flirted and chatted but one kiss had told her enough. And though she had made it seem more than it was when she’d got home in an attempt to provoke a reaction out of Rome, it had never gone further than that one kiss. She knew why she’d never taken it any further: she had fallen in love with Rome and Roberto simply wasn’t him. Also, there was a small part of her that didn’t want anyone else to be disappointed by sleeping with her the way Jake had been. But was she a fool waiting around for Rome, hoping that one day he would get over his ex and fall in love with her instead? She had never been enough for Jake, why would she be enough for Rome? And if he was still dreaming about Paige it didn’t look like he would be ready to move on any time soon.
Suddenly she experienced a moment of doubt and fear. With Jake she had allowed herself to wrap her whole life around his, living in his house, socialising with his friends, working for him, and though she had vowed she would never let it happen again, she had done the same thing with Rome. How had she found herself in this position again? Her job with Rome was only ever meant to be a temporary thing but then she had fallen in love with him, the island, his family, and she’d never wanted to leave. She never realised before that she was making the same mistake twice. If she gave up on Rome now, she would lose everything all over again.
She sighed and tried to move again as Rome’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked in confusion for a second and then when he saw her his face erupted into a huge grin.
‘It’s been a long time since I’ve woken up with a beautiful woman in my arms.’
Her heart soared at that wonderfully innocent comment.
‘God, I slept so well,’ Rome said.
‘I slept
really well too,’ Freya said. Clearly too well if she had been drooling on him in her sleep.
‘We’ll have to make this a regular thing,’ he joked and she resisted saying that she would love to.
He stretched beneath her then suddenly stilled, his face frozen in horror as he clearly realised where his hand was.
She bit her lip as she tried to suppress her smile, wondering how he was going to play this one. To her surprise, he still didn’t remove his hand, clearly wondering if she had noticed.
‘What time is it?’
Freya smirked. She wasn’t wearing a watch so she’d have to sit up to see the time on the clock across the room. She obliged and as she moved he ever so casually let his hand slip out from her shorts.
She snorted and then turned the snort into a cough. ‘It’s just coming up for nine.’
‘Well, we have a ton of work to do today so we better get going,’ Rome said and she turned back to look at him, still trying to hide her laughter. ‘You knew it was there, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, you pervert,’ she teased.
His cheeks flushed red. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know how that happened.’
‘I do.’ She stretched and then got out of bed. ‘You clearly couldn’t keep your hands off me, Rome Lancaster.’
He laughed and rolled on his side, the sheet just above his waist. There was no finer sight than Rome Lancaster lying half naked in her bed. ‘Well fair’s fair, next time you can grab my arse instead.’
She laughed. ‘In that case, I’ll look forward to it.’
Chapter Five
Freya was sketching out a new design for a mirror while she waited for the phone to ring for the scheduled interview, later that morning. Working for Rome had unleashed this creative side to her that she never knew she had and she absolutely loved it. This job had been made for her and she couldn’t ever see a time when she would get bored of it or not want to work with glass anymore. She had started off drawing out designs for him to make but, after months of training, she had recently been making her own. It was a wonderful feeling to see a project through from the very beginning when she was sketching an idea, to choosing the right glass and the right effect and then going on to cutting the glass and making the finished piece. Rome displayed all of her pieces in the shop to buy alongside his own and it made her feel very proud of her achievements.
