Niall could have sat there all afternoon just listening to the babble of voices and looking at Robina. He had never met anyone like her before—she was a strange mix of the modern and the traditional. One moment shy, the next joking with her grandmother’s neighbours and friends. He was happy, he thought, surprised. He hadn’t felt like this since Mairead had died.
Eventually Robina stood. ‘I have one more place to show you,’ she said as she kissed her grandmother goodbye. ‘Unless you want to get back to the hotel?’ she added anxiously. ‘Perhaps you’ve had enough for one day?’
Niall shook his head. ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘Right now there is nowhere I’d rather be than with you.’ Robina blushed again at his words and Niall knew she wasn’t immune to him either.
By the time they arrived at their next destination, the sun was beginning to set, casting a rosy hue over the mountains and turning the sea red-gold.
They pulled up outside a house set on its own, almost overhanging a cliff. Niall got out of the car and drank in the views. The front of the house seemed to be almost suspended over the waves that crashed against the rocks, spraying a fine mist. Below was a stretch of beach as far as the eye could see. There were no other houses in sight. They could have been the only people left on the planet. Perfect.
A notice-board outside the house proclaimed that the house was for sale and gave a number for enquiries.
Curious, Niall raised a questioning eyebrow.
‘This was my mother’s parents’ house,’ Robina said. ‘They lived here up until they retired to Gauteng a couple of years ago. They passed it on to my parents after that to use as a holiday cottage. It’s where I spent all my school holidays. Mum and Dad planned to move here when he retired, but then he died. Mum only recently got around to putting it up for sale—she can’t bear the thought of living in it without him. I’ll miss it when it sells.’
Niall followed her down a steep path by the side of the house onto the beach. Robina looked out at the ocean. ‘In spring and summer the whales come in here. When I was a little girl I would sit out here for hours watching them.’
Niall studied her. All of a sudden he had an image of the girl she must have been, sitting on the rocks, her knees pulled to her chest as she dreamed her childhood dreams. He smiled. The image was so different from this cool, elegant woman standing beside him.
‘What are you smiling about?’ Robina asked.
‘I don’t know. This, you, everything. It’s the first time I’ve felt…’ he struggled to find the right words ‘…at peace since Mairead died.’
Niall sat on a rock and threw a stone into the sea, where it skidded across the water.
‘Tell me about her,’ Robina said, finding her own rock close to him to perch on. They sat in silence for a few moments. Then Niall started to speak.
‘I’d known her since I was a child. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t around. We both grew up in a place called Applecross in the far north-west of Scotland. Our parents were good friends. She was younger than me, and at first she used to irritate me the way she kept hanging around. But eventually, as boys do, I started to notice that she wasn’t a pesky kid any more but a pretty teenager with a mind of her own. I went away to university and when I came back after qualifying I discovered that the once irritating tomboy had turned into a beautiful, funny and amazing woman. We fell in love, married and moved to Edinburgh. We tried for kids for years—I guess that’s what sparked my interest in fertility—and finally we were blessed with Ella. It seemed as if life couldn’t get any better. My career was going well, Mairead loved being a stay-at-home mum, and she seemed content to have only one child. I have never known a woman so satisfied with her lot.’
The familiar ache seeped into his chest. This was the first time he had talked about his wife. He had never been a man to talk about himself and was surprised he could now. Robina, listening in silence, made it easy.
‘That’s more or less it. Two years ago she started getting bruises. She told me it was nothing, just her being clumsy, and I guess I chose to believe her. But one day the bruising was so bad, I forced her to see a colleague of mine. He diagnosed aplastic anaemia. Three weeks later she was dead. Ella was only two years old.’
He felt a cool hand slip into his. ‘I’m so sorry, Niall. It must have been hard.’
But Niall felt he had said more than enough—too much, in fact. Whatever he wanted from this woman, it wasn’t pity. Something stirred inside as he looked at her. For the first time since Mairead had died, he wanted another woman. This woman. Before he could stop himself he leaned towards her and found her lips. They were cool under his own and as they parted he groaned and kissed her with a hungry need he’d thought he’d never feel again.
His heart was pounding as she returned his kisses with a passion that matched his own. Eventually they broke apart, both breathing heavily. As Robina looked at him shyly, he stood and pulled her to her feet.
‘Come back with me,’ he said, knowing that he couldn’t bear to leave her.
‘What? To your hotel room?’ She blushed, the redness darkening her honey skin.
‘Yes. There first.’
Robina shook her head, her blush deepening. ‘I’m sorry…I can’t.’
He froze. It hadn’t crossed his mind that she wouldn’t be free. But why not? A woman like her was bound to be involved. ‘Why?’ He forced the words past a throat gone dry. ‘Are you in love with someone else?’
‘No, it’s nothing like that.’ Squaring her shoulders, she tilted her chin proudly. ‘I know it may be old-fashioned, but I don’t believe in sex before marriage,’ she said primly.
Niall threw back his head and laughed, pulling her back into his arms at the same time. He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Then we are going to have to spend a lot more time together.’ He cupped her face and traced her high cheekbones with the pad of his thumb. ‘I’m going to enjoy getting to know everything about you.’ Then he remembered they had hardly any time. ‘Will you come and see me in Scotland?’ he asked urgently.
Robina’s lips parted as she turned her face to his. ‘Just try and stop me,’ she said before he brought his mouth back down on hers.
‘NO WAY! It’s out of the question!’ Niall slammed his mug down on the desk, noticing but not giving a damn as the coffee splashed across his desk.
‘Really?’ Robina raised perfectly groomed eyebrows. ‘Why not?’ she asked, her calm, cool tones underpinning the determination in her dark eyes. Niall leaned back in his chair. The woman he had met a year ago was almost unrecognisable behind the practised, almost cold, façade.
‘Why not?’ he echoed incredulously before lowering his voice. ‘Surely you can see why it’s impossible?’
‘Let’s keep this professional,’ she responded calmly, but he flinched inwardly from the reproach in her eyes. How could brown eyes, the colour of acacia honey, which had once sparkled up at him with suppressed laughter, now look so distant? ‘Why don’t you give me your reasons and I’ll respond to each one in turn?’
‘For a start, there’s patient confidentiality. Then there is the fact that these are a particularly vulnerable group of women, and then finally, if all that weren’t enough, how do you expect us to work with cameras in our faces? We’d be tripping over wires, sound recordists and God knows who all else. That’s why it’s impossible.’
‘Quite the opposite.’ Robina