‘Make love to me,’ she whispers against my lips, hooking her legs around my hips, opening herself to me.
Something inside me eases, like a balm being smoothed over old wounds. I trust her—heart, mind and soul.
Make love to me...
Always.
I press home and in one swift move she surrounds me. Comfort, love, light. Everything I could ever want, ever need, is here...right now.
And I won’t let anyone take it away.
Not Nate. Not her father. No one.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I AM BLISSFULLY COSY. Wrapped in the most luxurious quilt, my limbs entwined as I cuddle it to me.
But I’m alone.
My senses come alert. I’m not worried, though. He’s here somewhere. The heady scent of fresh coffee is in the air and I can hear movement somewhere in the distance.
I open my eyes, blinking against the sunrise that fills the room with a golden glow. It’s breathtaking, lighting up the sea and the sky beyond the glass, and I’m basking in it. I roll over and stretch, loving how my body still tingles after everything we have shared since we left London.
I smile and a little kick of glee erupts inside me. This is too good to be true.
But it is true.
And once I get my family in line it could be perfect.
My eighteen-year-old self is becoming an increasingly distant memory, her warning just as weak.
I leap out of bed and the sound of water breaking reaches me—the pool. I imagine him almost naked, his muscles rippling as he moves through the water, and my body sighs over the image.
I dip to collect his shirt from the floor and slip it on, heading in his direction. My pulse is already dancing, but as I step outside it skitters with my intake of breath.
The pool is outstretched before me, filling half of the long roof terrace. Two draped cabanas, a string of sunbeds and many decorative plants flank it on one side; on the other is the view. And there he is, gliding through the water, his back to me. A strip of black fabric sits tight over his behind and the rest is bare for me to enjoy.
I’m quiet as I pad out. I don’t want to disturb his front crawl, and his perfect form delivering stroke after stroke is mesmerising. But of course he’s nearing the end. At any moment he will turn and see me.
I lower myself to the edge and sit down, my toes testing the water. It’s warm and I sink my legs in, swirling them around as he disappears under the water and executes a perfect turn. Like a professional. Of course, that’s Lucas all over...perfecting everything.
His head breaks the water and he flicks his fringe over—and that’s when his eyes light on me, his smile wide and squeezing my heart tight. He picks up pace and reaches me before I can finish a breath, flicking his hair again, his smile sending butterflies loose.
‘Morning, sleepyhead.’
He presses his palms into the pool edge either side of me and lifts himself effortlessly to plant a kiss on my lips. Water drips from him onto the shirt, down its opening, over my thighs, my skin alive to every patter.
‘Sleep well?’
He drops back and I lean over to stroke his jaw, his stubble teasing at my fingertips. ‘Very...’
‘Thought you might.’
His grin tells me he’s reliving the night and my body heats.
‘I could get used to seeing you in my clothing.’
His eyes trail hot and heavy down my body, exposed save for the single fastened button at my waist.