A Mother for Matilda/The Boss and Nurse Albright

by Amy Andrews

  Vic laughed. She couldn’t help herself. Any other man would have flipped her on her back and had her half naked in the sand right now. She linked her arm through his. ‘C’mon, I want to show you something.’ And she pulled against his resistance, pleased when he gave in and followed her.

  Lawson walked beside her, aware of the rub of her side against his as he’d never been before. Her kiss—their kiss—still burrowed into his groin and sung like a heavy-metal guitar sonnet in his blood. It felt mindaltering like vodka and tasted like chocolate—sweet and addictive. The chocolate martini of kisses.

  He could feel the beat of the waves pounding in time with his pulse. It was as if the wildness of the ocean had given him permission to be himself. To be the primal man that lurked beneath the surface, the one he’d tried so hard to suppress.

  So he followed her. They didn’t speak, their bodies communicating without words. The heat building inside as the friction from their occasional body contact tantalised and seduced.

  When they reached the rocks at the end of the beach, Vic used the light from the moon to guide her to a place she hadn’t been in years. Lawson followed, her behind bending and shimmying tantalisingly in front of him as she scampered and twisted to navigate the rocks. With the tide out, they were dry but still dangerous in the reduced light.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he grouched when she unknowingly shoved her butt close enough for him to lean forward and take a bite.

  ‘Patience, grasshopper.’ She grinned as she spotted her destination.

  She clambered over the last few rocks and jumped down onto a sheltered area of sand bordered by a crescentshaped rock formation that had been partially eroded into an overhang. It was like a half-cave with a completely exposed opening, but hidden amidst the rocky outcrop.

  ‘Mum and Dad and I used to come here before the twins were born,’ she said, turning to watch him leap down into the sheltered area. ‘It was like our special place.’

  She looked out at the vista before her, the ocean lapping the sand in the distance as it continued its tidal march away from the island.

  ‘Dad would build a bonfire and we’d toast marshmallows as the sun went down.’ She looked at the pile of charred wood, cold and dead now, just inside the entrance to the overhang. Someone else had found the secluded spot.

  ‘We came here a few times when the boys were little but…it just wasn’t the same without her and we stopped coming.’

  Standing in this special place, it finally hit her. She wasn’t just leaving the island and her family and friends and everything she’d ever known, but she was also leaving the place that connected her to her mother.

  Lawson watched her closely in the moonlight, her features plaintive. She looked melancholy and utterly lovely. ‘She was a wonderful woman, your mother.’

  Vic felt his voice draw her out of her reverie. She looked at him, leaning against the rock, his hands in his pockets. The moon blazed behind him, leaving his eyes hooded in shadow. ‘I forget sometimes that you knew her too.’

  ‘She used to bake me cakes. Your father would bring them to work with him and tell me it was a sin to refuse such divine cooking.’

  Vic smiled. ‘Yes. She was a great cook.’

  ‘She’d want you to go.’ It was surprising how much it hurt him to say it, but Lawson knew it to be true. Mary Dunleavy had always wanted a life bigger than the island for her little girl.

  ‘What about you?’

  Lawson shifted uncomfortably against the rock. ‘Of course.’

  The rock formation sheltered them from the wind and muffled the raw power of the ocean, but she could still see and hear the waves crashing down the beach. She listened for a few beats as she sought the right words.

  ‘Is that because you want me to fulfil a lifelong dream or is it because of the guilt you feel over what happened between us? Will it be easier to bear if you don’t have to look at your mistake every day?’

  Lawson shut his eyes. ‘Victoria.’ He stuffed his hands in his pockets. He could still taste her on his lips. ‘I really don’t want to talk about this.’

  Vic nodded. Of course. His policy of denial had served him well until now; why change? She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender before turning away from him and plonking herself down under the overhang.

  The sand was cool but dry beneath her. She raised her knees to her chest, pulling the material of her dress down over them until just her bare toes peeped out. She scooped up a handful of sand and let it drift between her fingers and slide over the sides.

  She raised her face to him. He seemed a long way away, leaning against his rock. She patted the sand beside her. ‘Come sit next to me.’

  Lawson shook his head emphatically. Did he look insane? Their kiss still hummed in his blood and a moonlit beach and a melancholy mood were not good deterrents. ‘Thanks. I’m good here.’

  Vic could see the waves pounding the shore from her vantage point. She could see the moonbeams playing tag with the waves. ‘You have your back to the ocean. You’re missing the view.’

  That was what she thought. The moon was aligned perfectly, capturing her in a milky beam of light. It fell softly against her features, caressing her full cheeks and her cute nose, and glistened in her lip gloss. ‘It’ll be there tomorrow.’

  Vic sighed. There was no way she was going to break him. His will was all-powerful. Even caught up in their kiss he’d been the one to step away. She rested her head on her knees for a while, her gaze watching the push and pull of the tide, her mind as restless.

  She stirred from her reverie. ‘I never did thank you. For that day. With Dad.’

  Lawson shrugged. ‘I was just doing my job, Victoria.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Without your pep talk on the way there…I would have fallen apart. I would have been useless. Dad owes his life to you. Had it been up to me I don’t know if I could have kept it together.’

  ‘He’s your father. No one, least of all me, expected you to be able to separate from that.’

  Vic nodded. ‘Sure. But I forgot it amongst all my anxiety about your feelings.’ She stood and brushed sand off her dress as she approached him. ‘I know you and my father have a…bond. It can’t have been easy for you to have seen him like that either.’

  Images of a grey Bob Dunleavy assaulted him. The lifeless form of his friend as his daughter pumped his chest, silent tears streaming down her face, her heart shattering with each compression. It was a day he never wanted to see ever again. ‘I’ve had better days.’

  Vic felt laughter bubble in her chest. Lawson’s face was impassive as he delivered the understatement. Why was it so bloody hard to squeeze an emotion out of him? He’d been absolutely professional that day and then super efficient in the days after when she’d leant on him and politely supportive ever since.

  For once she’d like to see some extreme of emotion. She knew he was capable. She’d seen how animated he could become around Matilda. How great he’d been with the little croup boy. But stepping back from their kiss just now was a classic example. Even when she’d been half naked in his arms he’d managed to restrain himself. Was it so hard to show her something other than rigid control?

  What exactly did she have to do to get him to show himself? The real man? The one who had made a stupid mistake at sixteen, the one who had a two-week-old baby dumped in his arms, the one who had kissed her so passionately for a brief few seconds not even half an hour ago?

  A moonbeam on the ocean caught her gaze and her attention returned to the view over his shoulder. The ocean never lied, never hid its moods. She could feel the force of it buffeting her body, stirring her cells, and suddenly she knew why she’d come to the beach tonight.

  Her hand twisted behind her as she fumbled for the bow that held the wrap-around dress together. She found the end and pulled it undone.

  Lawson frowned for a minute, wondering what the hell she was doing until her cleavage parted slightly and he could see a dark shadow of
fabric covering a partially exposed breast. He pushed himself off the rock, holding out his hands, miming her to stop.

  ‘Whoa. What are you doing?’

  Vic smiled. Suddenly she had his attention. Suddenly he was looking a lot more spirited. ‘I’m going swimming.’

  ‘But—’ Whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips as Victoria parted her dress, shrugged her shoulders and the entire thing slithered to the sand in a pool of black temptation. Lawson swallowed as his gaze travelled from her toes up.

  Up her ankles to her knees. From her knees to her thighs. From her thighs to the scrap of lace that covered her modesty. Up over the curves of her hip and belly to her ribs and matching lace half-cup bra that lifted her breasts as if in silent offering to the moon. Up over her collarbones and her neck, all the way to her face.

  Vic smiled. Finally she had him. Finally he was looking at her like a human being. Not his colleague. His partner. Not someone he’d known for two decades. Not as Matilda’s father. But as a man looking at a woman. In all his open-mouthed glory. She should have been embarrassed but she wasn’t. He’d seen her in less.

  ‘Coming?’ she asked as she passed by him and headed to the ocean.

  Lawson pivoted on the sand and tracked her path to the shoreline. The moonlight outlined her figure perfectly. Short and curvy, the cheek of her left buttock more exposed than the other, her hips swaying and her hair blowing behind her as she headed into the breeze. Like a water sprite returning home.

  He shut his eyes, trying to deny the tug. But standing on the beach, his body feeling the raw vitality of the ocean as a true primal force, nothing could be denied. When he opened them again she was standing in the shallows. Waiting.

  Waiting for him.

  Without further dissection Lawson stripped off his shirt, shucked off his trousers and strode down to join her.

  Vic didn’t have to turn to know he was coming. It was as if her heartbeat were tuned into every fall of foot on sand. When he stopped at the water’s edge beside her she didn’t even look at him. She just slid her hand into his and they waded out.

  The waves buffeted their bodies as the pulse of the ocean enveloped them. She walked until she was waist deep and then dived beneath the surface, Lawson beside her. They swam out past the row of breakers until she could barely stand, the water level with Lawson’s chest. And when she reached for him his hands encircled her waist and glided up her ribs, pulling her close, settling her torso against his, her legs automatically locking around his waist.

  Lawson could hear her breath, rough with anticipation. Her hair was plastered to her face and water droplets beaded on her cheeks and eyelashes and it was the most natural thing in the world for him to lower his head and capture her mouth.

  Her lips were moist and cool and she tasted like salt and chocolate. And after the earlier appetiser he was suddenly ravenous for her. He lifted a hand to cup the back of her neck, urging her mouth closer as he deepened the kiss.

  Heat flooded his groin and his erection strained against the confines of his wet underwear. The current swirled around them, dragging her bottom and inner thighs against his hardness, nudging its length, and he groaned into her mouth. Unable to bear the erotic torture, he lowered his other hand, splaying his fingers across the small of her back to anchor her there.

  Vic smiled against his mouth and broke away. ‘Damn, I was enjoying that,’ she teased.

  Lawson gave a half-laugh. ‘You shock me.’

  Vic rolled her eyes. ‘Really.’

  He grinned. ‘Really. You’re Bob’s daughter, you’re…Victoria. You’re not supposed to…know about things like that.’

  ‘You might be surprised what I know,’ she murmured, and deliberately traced her tongue along his lips. ‘Hmm, you taste good.’ She unlocked her ankles and let her body slide down his, her arms still firmly entwined around his neck. She pressed against his erection. ‘You feel good.’

  Lawson closed his eyes. He grabbed her hips, holding her firmly against him, trapping her there. ‘Isn’t this what you want?’ she whispered in his ear. She released one arm from his neck, slid her hand down his belly and burrowed beneath the waistband of his underwear until she was grasping his girth, revelling in the size of him.

  Lawson, his eyes still closed, just managed an ‘umph’ noise.

  ‘It’s what I want,’ she continued, sucking on his ear lobe as she ran her fingers up and down his length. It felt hot amidst the cool water. And incredibly potent. She parted her legs, guiding him between them, rubbing herself against his length, wishing she didn’t have the lacy barrier of her own underwear.

  She raised her lips to his and their mouths meshed. His hold on her hip became vice-like and somewhere at the back of her brain she knew she’d have bruises there tomorrow. His tongue invaded her mouth and tangled with hers. His breathing was harsh as their intimate connection continued and she held onto his shoulders for dear life as his deep wet kisses pushed her head back and spun everything like a kaleidoscope inside her head.

  Lawson broke off, unable to bear the friction any longer. He didn’t want to mimic the sexual act—he wanted to do it. ‘Let’s go.’ He grabbed her hand and pulled her along beside him.

  Vic laughed as she struck out beside him. ‘Where to?’

  ‘My place. Hurry.’

  Vic followed him, sobering a little. Did he mean, Hurry, I can’t wait any longer? Or, Hurry before I change my mind? Given how quickly he’d changed his mind last time, she didn’t want to give him twenty minutes to rethink the wisdom of the situation.

  By the time their knees scraped sand she knew she couldn’t let him out of the ocean. She didn’t want his ardour to cool and his strong sense of propriety to take over. When he helped her to her feet she rose in one fluid movement, plastering her body against his. He staggered a little and she used his temporary mis-footing to over-balance him.

  He landed on his back in the shallows with an, ‘Oomph,’ and she followed him down. She didn’t give him a chance for evasive action, playing dirty straight off the bat. She pinned his arms above his head and straddled him, rubbing herself against his erection, instantly paralysing any intent he had to move.

  Lawson opened his eyes, the earth tilting a little as he did so. He looked up at her, her head blocking out the moon, her face in shadow. ‘What was that for?’

  ‘I don’t want to go back to your place. I want to stay here.’ She lowered her head and kissed his chest, his neck, his mouth. Trailed kisses along the length of his scar.

  Lawson let the heat from her kiss wash over him. Deepened it until he was thrusting against her. He dragged his mouth away, her head falling to his chest, her forehead resting against its ragged rise and fall. ‘I have condoms at home. And a bed.’

  Vic felt his words rumble against her skin. He also had reality back there. Matilda and all his responsibilities, including her, his partner.

  She pushed herself up, releasing his hands so she could reach behind her and unclip her bra. It released easily and slid down her arms. She pulled it off and threw it aside uncaring that she’d never see it again as it was swallowed by the eddying current.

  She thrust her chest slightly and looked down at him. ‘I don’t need a bed.’

  Lawson was momentarily stunned as the moonlight coated the pale tips of her breasts in alabaster. As he watched they beaded and blushed a darker shade of pink. And then he didn’t even think, just curled up, wrapped his arms around her waist and captured a moist wet nipple in his mouth.

  Vic cried out as the heat sucked at her belly. She ground against him and jammed her fingers into his hair, holding his head to her, arching into him for more.

  In one fluid move Lawson flipped her on her back in the shallows and moved on to the other nipple, paying it equal homage. Water surged and foamed around them, but it didn’t register. His cool fingertips, pruned from the water, replaced where his mouth had just been and he felt a surge of lust undulate through his gut as Victoria cried
out again, her chest rising off the sand.

  Lawson released his mouthful and traced his tongue up her sternum to the pulse fluttering in her neck. ‘Let’s go,’ he murmured.

  Vic felt the delirium ease. ‘No. Let’s stay here.’

  Lawson felt her tense. He pulled back. ‘What’s wrong?’

  She turned her face away. ‘It’s a moonlit beach. It’s perfect for this.’

  Lawson wasn’t buying it. ‘Victoria?’

  She sighed, turning her face back. ‘Because I’m afraid you’re going to change your mind if you’re given any time to think about it all.’

  Lawson looked into her eyes; even with his head blocking out the moonlight, his shadow darkening her face, he could see the anguish in her whiskey gaze. He shook his head, kissed her brow, her nose her mouth. ‘I won’t change my mind. I know this isn’t wise but I don’t care. You’re going overseas for an indefinite period and I have Matilda to think about. Our lives are at completely different stages. But I’ve been going crazy thinking about this. There can only be tonight, I can’t offer you any more and I’m probably going to hell for it, but I’m not backing out.’

  Vic’s heart smashed against her ribs. ‘Tonight’s all I need.’

  Lawson had never wanted anything more in his life. He knew he’d pay for it later, in the days and months to come, but that wasn’t what he was thinking as he shook the sand off her dress and passed it to her, watching while she wound it around her wet body. Nor when he held her hand as they walked back up the beach. Or when they reached her car and he pushed her against the cold metal of her door and kissed her thoroughly before letting her in.

  All he could think about was the culmination of all the dreams that had afflicted him since that night on her couch. That she was going to be soft and warm beneath him. And the noise she’d make when he entered her for the first time. And the way she’d moan his name when she came.

  They were at his place in eight minutes and not a single doubt had entered his mind. They were kissing before the door was even open. His shirt was off and her dress falling from her shoulders as they hit his bedroom. Seconds later they were tumbling, still wet and sandy, but utterly naked onto his unmade bed.