‘It was both of them.’
‘He took advantage.’
‘Oh, and you never have—’ She didn’t get to finish.
‘Never,’ Dominic said. ‘Not once. My sexual résumé might not be impressive to you, but…’ He shook his head. ‘Nope, what he did was wrong, and however awful your sister has been, I bet she’s been trying to douse an awful lot of guilt about her treatment of you.’
Bridgette nodded. ‘She’s gone to rehab. It’s three months and Mum and Dad are paying. She came over last night with Dad and said she was terrified of letting everybody down…which she may well do, so I’m not getting my hopes up, but I’ve made a decision to be here for Harry.’ She saw him glance at his watch.
‘Sorry, I’m rattling on…’
‘It’s not that. I have to leave in an hour. I can’t miss that plane.’ He took a deep breath. Really, he was finding this incredibly difficult—she seemed fine, better than fine, as if she wasn’t missing him at all.
Wouldn’t miss him.
But he would miss her.
Which forced him to speak on.
‘What you said about Sydney, about having someone who wanted you there, you weren’t exaggerating, Bridgette.’ He took her hand and her fingers curled around his. Inside her, those little wisps of hope uncurled too, and it was so wonderful to see him, to have him sitting beside her, to know this was hard for him. ‘I want this to work too. I just can’t not be there for Chris,’ he said.
‘I was very unfair to you—it was ridiculous that I couldn’t even get away for a single weekend, and it is about to change. I spoke to my parents this morning so maybe I can get away now and then, maybe I could come up on days off, or some of them.’ She stared at her fingers being squeezed by his, and she wished he would jump in, would say that was what he wanted, but he let her speak on. ‘And who knows what might happen in the future? Courtney might get well—’
‘You’re not going to leave Harry,’ Dominic cut in. ‘You might be able to convince them, but you’ll never convince me. You’re not going anywhere while Harry’s so little.’
‘No.’ She could feel tears trickling down at the back of her throat and nose. She’d been so determined not to cry, to do this with dignity, to let him go with grace. She could see the second hand on his watch rapidly moving around, gobbling up the little time that they had left. ‘No, I’m not going anywhere. Well, not long term.’
‘And I don’t think the odd weekend is going to suffice.’
‘No,’ she said, because it wouldn’t be enough.
And they could talk in the time they had left, but what was the point? Bridgette realised there was no solution to be had, so instead of tears she gave him a smile, not a false one, a real one. And she put herself first for once, was completely selfish and utterly indulgent and just a little bit wild, because as he went to speak she interrupted him.
‘Have we got time for a quickie before you go?’
‘We need to talk,’ Dominic pointed out.
‘I don’t need anything,’ she cut in. ‘I know what I want, though.’
And he wasn’t going to argue with that.
He didn’t know what he had expected to find when he came over, how he’d expected her to be when he’d knocked at the door, but as always she’d amazed him. Then, as she opened the bedroom door, she amazed him all over again.
‘Wow.’ As he walked into her bedroom he let out a low whistle. ‘You’ve got a carpet!’
‘I know!’
‘I’m impressed.’ He looked at the shelves and politely didn’t comment about five holes she had made in the wall—because he wouldn’t know how to find a stud either.
‘Just you wait.’ She was at his shirt as she spoke. He pulled off her T-shirt and undid her bra and it slowed things down undressing each other, so they stripped off for themselves and then Bridgette peeled back the duvet.
‘You get first feel…’
‘Of what?’ he asked, hands roaming her body, but she peeled off his hands and placed them on the bedding.
‘Of my million-thread-count sheets. I was saving them for best…’
Which he was, Bridgette knew that, because he lay on the sheets and wriggled around and made appreciative noises, and then he pulled her in and kissed her.
‘I want to feel them now,’ she said.
So she lay on the sheets and wriggled around and made appreciative noises too.
And then he kissed her again.
‘Don’t let me fall asleep after,’ Dominic said.
‘After what?’ She frowned, naked in his arms. ‘If you really think you can just come here and have sex…’
She made him laugh and she loved making him laugh. She loved the Dominic others so rarely saw. When it was just the two or them, the austere, remote man seemed to leave—and he understood her humour and matched it. He made her laugh too, turned those cold black eyes into puppy-dog ones. ‘I don’t want sex, Bridgette. I just want to hold you.’
‘Oh, no.’ They were laughing so much they would wake up Harry.
‘I just want to lie next to you…’ he crooned.
‘No.’
He straddled her.
‘I just want to talk,’ he said.
‘No talking,’ she begged.
It was a whole new realm for Dominic, like swimming in the ocean after a lifetime doing laps in a pool.
He did not know that you could laugh so much on a Saturday afternoon, that she could laugh even now as she lost him.
As she loved him.
It was a different kiss from any they had tasted before, a different feeling from any they had ever felt.
He kissed her slowly and more tenderly and he let himself love her—smothered her, physically, mentally, buried her and pressed her against her very best sheets. He wrapped his arms under her and drove into her till she wanted to scream, and she pressed her mouth to his chest and held on for dear life. She didn’t know what the future held and she couldn’t control it anyway, so she lived in the moment, and what a lovely moment it was. And she could cry afterwards and not be embarrassed or sorry.
It was a wonderful afternoon, and nothing like the one he had intended, the most delicious surprise. His head was spinning that she could love him like that when she considered it over between them.
‘I’ve made some decisions too.’ He took a deep breath, dived out of the pool and into the ocean, where it was rough and choppy but exhilarating and wild. ‘When I went to resign this week, when I told them I wouldn’t be back, I was offered a job.’ He looked at her grey eyes that were for the first time today wary. ‘Here.’
She felt little wisps of hope rising again, then she moved to douse them. They were guilty wisps. Surely this was wrong.
‘I’m going to ring on Monday and take it.’
‘You want to work in Sydney, though. Your family’s there, your friends, Chris. You always wanted to work there. It’s your goal.’
‘Goals change,’ Dominic said.
‘What about your brother?’
‘I’m