Page 49 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay (Sturcombe Bay Romances #3)

Alex let him off the lead and he raced down to the water’s edge to sniff at this strange phenomenon. But when a small wave rippled in over his feet, he leaped back as if he had been stung.

Shelley was almost doubled up with laughter. Suddenly a small brown and white terrier streaked past them, barking joyfully, and plunged straight into the water. Tyler stared in astonishment, then with a yap he bounced after him, dancing through the waves as if he hadn’t been scared at all.

Tom and Vicky Cullen strolled up to them, laughing, hand in hand. “What on earth have you got there?” Tom’s voice lilted with humour.

“Tyler.” Alex beamed with pride. “We just got him from the rescue centre.”

“Looks like you could have your hands full. He’s going to be big — look at the size of those paws.”

Alex nodded, untroubled by the prospect. “You could be right.”

They all watched the dogs frolicking together, chasing each other and barking with excitement.

“He’s a beauty, though,” Vicky remarked. “From the rescue centre?”

“That’s right. He’s had it tough and he’s still just a pup — almost ten months.”

“Well, he’s certainly enjoying himself now. Rufus will show him how.”

The two dogs were having the time of their lives. Already firm friends, they splashed through the shallows, raced up the beach and down again, rolling over and over and getting themselves covered in sand.

“He really is happy,” Shelley murmured. She felt a warm glow in her heart for the dog — and for the man at her side, who had given the sad, lonely creature a fresh start, a safe home, all the love he deserved.

Alex glanced down at her, smiling. “Could you come back to the flat for a little while? He’s taken to you. It might help him settle if you’re there.”

She hesitated. Was that a good idea? But she did want to help the big dog, and if staying a little while would keep him calm, it would be worth it. “Okay, yes. For an hour or so.”

“Good. Fish and chips for supper?”

“That would be good.”

“Okay. Time to get this mad hound back on the lead.” He called the dog’s name. Tyler stopped dead in the middle of his game, turning his head, puzzled for a moment. Alex called him again, rattling the bag of treats, and he raced out of the water, hurtling back up the beach.

But in his exuberance he suffered a severe brake failure and crashed into Alex, knocking him over and bouncing on him, licking his face.

“Right . . .” Alex laughed as he sat up. “I think that’ll be something to work on.”

* * *

The kitchen in the flat was a narrow galley, but well-equipped, with a large fridge-freezer, a ceramic hob and a microwave. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook,” Shelley confessed. ”I’ve never really had the opportunity to practise.”

“Neither am I.” Alex laughed. “But I reckon between us we can manage to unwrap a bag of fish and chips.”

He took the plates from the cupboard and cutlery from the drawer. “There’s salt and vinegar if you want it, and a bottle of wine in the fridge.”

She left the wine in the fridge, and filled a jug with water instead and carried it through to the sitting room, setting it out on the table with a couple of glasses.

Tyler had been sniffing around, but he scooted straight over at the sight of her. But instead of knocking her over, as she had half-expected, he plopped his back end neatly on the floor, looking immensely proud of himself.

“Well! What a good boy you are.” She bent and kissed the tip of his nose, and in return, got a slurp of a long pink tongue up her cheek.

“Ah, I told you he loves you.” Alex’s voice was warm. “Thank you for staying.”

She smiled up at him. The dark glint in his eyes hinted at the truth of what she had suspected — neither of them really believed that she had stayed just for Tyler.

* * *

“Mmm. That was good.” Shelley smiled as she laid down her knife and fork.

Alex nodded his agreement. “They do excellent fish and chips down there.”

Tyler had been hopefully watching for any titbits from the dining table. Shelley had secretly donated a couple of chips, and she suspected that Alex had too.

“I was a bit scared when you let him off the lead down on the beach. Weren’t you worried he might run away?”

He shook his head. “The beach is quite safe for him to run around, and he’s not brave enough to run away yet.

The trick is to start straight away, while he’s still feeling insecure.

We’re safety to him — and food! Show him that coming when he’s called is more exciting than anything else — your tone of voice, a big fuss and a bag full of treats. ”

“Ah, of course. You’re used to having dogs.” She rose to her feet and began to clear the table.

“Here, let me,” he insisted, taking the plates from her. “I’ll put them straight in the dishwasher.”

“Oh . . . right.”

The table cleared, he smiled at her. “Fancy a movie?”

She hesitated, but temptation got the better of common sense. “What do you have?”

There were half a dozen DVDs on the shelf under the television. They settled on the Dambusters.

“You must have seen it before,” Shelley objected when he suggested it.

“I have — about a dozen times — but I’ll enjoy seeing it again. Those old black-and-white war movies are great.” He took the DVD from the shelf and slotted it into the player. “You didn’t bring the wine out with the fish and chips.”

“No . . .”

“Fancy a glass now?”

“Okay.”

As they settled on the sofa with their wine, Tyler tried to climb up with them.

“No!” Alex was laughing. “Get down. You’re much too big to be a lapdog.”

The big dog whined, looking sad. “Ah, you’ve hurt his feelings,” Shelley protested.

“And you’d spoil him rotten.”

He managed to persuade the giant pup to climb down. He circled around for a moment, then with a huff laid down — on their feet.

Alex laughed. “Ah well, that’ll do.” He picked up the remote and flicked it to start the film.

* * *

It felt good to be sitting here like this, his dog sleeping at his feet, Shelley close at his side. She was leaning against his shoulder, the subtle fragrance of her hair drifting on his breath.

Very carefully he eased his arm out from between them and laid it along the back of the sofa.

He thought he heard her make a soft sound as she nestled closer, though maybe she was just laughing at the indignant chicken farmer writing his letter of complaint about the low-flying planes over his poultry sheds.

But when he let his arm slip down around her shoulders, the soft sound was definitely one of contentment. He wanted to tell her that he was in love with her, but he had a feeling that she wouldn’t trust that word.

Very slowly he let one finger trail into a blonde curl that feathered over her ear. She didn’t pull away, so he twirled his finger into the curl again.

Tilting her head back against his shoulder, she looked up at him, those pretty blue eyes uncertain. But when he smiled, she smiled back, that little dimple appearing in her cheek. And he knew that no words were needed — they both knew.

He slid his hand round to cradle her head as he dusted kisses over her trembling eyelids and across her temple, then down to the delicate shell of her ear, finding the tiny sensitive spot behind her lobe that made her sigh with pleasure.

* * *

Shelley felt Alex’s breath warm against her cheek. And then at last his mouth met hers, light as a butterfly’s wing. His sinuous tongue lapped along her lips, then stole between to swirl into the deep, secret corners within.

The kiss deepened — slow, quiet and achingly tender. A warmth was spreading through her, melting her bones like liquid honey, and she put up her hands to tangle her fingers in his hair, kissing him back.

It could have been moments, it could have been a thousand years before he lifted his head. “Do you think Tyler would mind if we went into the bedroom?” he murmured softly, close to her ear.

Shelley felt her heart flip over. This was the moment that had filled her fantasies for weeks. And now that it was here, she had no doubts.

She glanced down at the big dog, snoozing contentedly at their feet. “I think he’s asleep. He must be exhausted from all the excitement of getting a new home.”

“We’ll try not to disturb him.” Alex glanced around the room. “He should be safe enough in here.”

Very carefully they eased their feet out from under the big dog. Both suppressing their laughter, they crept hand in hand to the bedroom. Alex closed the door quietly, listening for a moment for heavy paws or an indignant bark. Silence.

“Yes, I think he’s asleep.” He smiled down at her, his eyes filled with warmth, and glanced towards the bed. “Shall we?”

She could only nod her head — there wasn’t enough air in her lungs to speak.

Outside it was dark, the sky mostly covered by clouds, no moon or stars. Alex drew her over to the bed and turned on the low lamp on the table beside it, filling the room with a soft, warm glow.

He drew her into his arms, and his mouth came down to hers again, warm and soft, his sensuous tongue sliding into the corner of her lips, coaxing them apart.

He wasn’t invading or demanding, as other men she had known had been.

And she wasn’t surrendering — she was his equal, wanting this as much as he did.

His hands slid up beneath her sweater, smoothing over her back. With a swift movement, she lifted it over her head and tossed it aside — and then did the same with his.

His body was beautiful. In the soft glow of the bedside lamp every muscle was sculpted, his skin was tanned to a pale gold, and a smattering of dark curling hair shadowed his wide chest. Resting her cheek against it she breathed his subtle male scent, letting it drug her senses.

His soft hand stroked down her spine, then round to her midriff and up over the ripe curve of her breast in the dainty lacy cups of her bra, sending little hot shivers running over her skin.

Her head felt light, dizzy, as they tipped together onto the wide, comfortable bed. She gazed up to look deep into his eyes, drowning herself in their mesmerising darkness.

His mouth was hot against her skin and he let his hand trail slowly over her body, caressing her with a warm gentle sensuality that reached right into her heart.

She felt him stroke over the aching swell of her breast, felt the tender bud of her nipple ripen in the tight constraint of her bra. Then with deft fingers he unclipped the lacy scrap and tossed it aside, and his hand brushed over the naked roundness, stirring her responses.

Her own hands were moving down over his wide shoulders and the powerful muscles in his chest, trailing a path through that crisp, black, curling hair that darkened his smooth skin.

He bent his head, dusting a slow path of kisses down over the long column of her throat and along her collar bone, then on to the aching curve of her breasts, circling tantalisingly around first one dainty pink peak, then the other.

She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the strange, sweet rapture of it.

Her breathing was shallow, and she heard herself moaning softly as his tongue swirled languorously around one taut, tender nipple.

Then he drew it into his mouth, suckling at it with a deep, hungry rhythm, reducing her to a state of quivering helplessness.

He had unfastened the zip of her jeans, and as he tugged them down over her slim thighs, she wriggled herself out of them, then reached out her hands to do the same with his. Her lace-trimmed cotton briefs disappeared along with his jersey boxers.

Propping himself up on his elbow, he let his gaze drift down over her naked body. She closed her eyes, a soft moan escaping her lips as she stretched languorously, savouring his smooth touch stroking up over the soft inner flanks of her thighs.

“Beautiful.” His voice was low and husky. “You’re so beautiful — every perfect inch of you. Your skin’s like silk.”

Her breath seemed to be trapped in her lungs as she felt his hand slip into her most intimate core, and with unerring skill, he found the tiny seed-pearl nestling in its secret velvet fold. As his thumb stroked over it, a shock of pleasure sizzled through her.

A low ripple of laughter purred in his throat as he tormented her with the exquisite sensations. She was caught, helpless in the elemental force of her desire until she felt as if she could endure no more of this rapture.

And then she felt the heat of his mouth tracing a languid path of kisses down over her body.

With a shimmer of delight, she felt him dip his head between her thighs, and his sensuous, rasping tongue took the place of his thumb, languorously swirling over that acutely sensitive nub, firing her blood with a fever that scalded her brain.

At last he moved to lie above her, pausing briefly to reach over to the bedside table and take something from the drawer. A small foil pack. Teasing him with a mischievous smile, she took it from him and ripped it open, then carefully smoothed the gossamer sheath down over his hard length.

As his mouth closed over hers again, his tongue plundering all the sweet, secret corners within, she twined herself around him, drawing him in. For one long moment they lay still, just absorbing this moment of complete intimacy.

Then they began to move, slowly, in perfect harmony. He was careful to hold his weight from her, but she could sense that he was restraining the driving forces inside him as he built the rhythm, tantalising her with shallow thrusts and circling to stretch her deliciously.

She was long past the point of conscious awareness. Wrapped in her own velvet darkness, she was aware only of the subtle male scent of his body, and the ragged sound of their breathing as the pleasure rose inside her in waves.

Time spun away into an endless eternity, until at last the sheer primitive forces driving them exploded like a million stars, and with a last shuddering climax, they collapsed together on the bed.