Page 27

T he evening was painful; exacerbated by the swirl of emotions that the day had brought. Fear, remorse, guilt, relief, elation, and that was without the attraction simmering between them. When it almost boiled out of control again in his room, it only heightened the attraction between them.

Ella expected that they’d both still be in their corners licking wounds after the surprise revelations of earlier, instead they were in their respective corners for something completely different.

All through the meal preparations, feeding and bathing the children, it had been like they didn’t even dare bump into each other for fear of combusting.

It was intense. Weird. Wonderful, and painful.

Now with the children asleep, Ella escaped to her own room and as she readied for bed, she resigned herself to what she knew would be another long sleepless night. However, when Mia stirred in her sleep and it came through the monitor on her bedside table, she knew she had a dilemma on her hands.

Leo would want his daughter’s monitor. It was something he was insistent on, especially after the night the children had been unwell.

But to get it to him meant going to his room.

Perhaps she could text him and tell him it was on the floor outside his room?

She could, but that would be petty and childish. And sensible.

But still petty and childish. Besides, all she had to do was knock and hand over the monitor, and she’d be safely back in her own bed in mere seconds.

Determined to get it done she jumped up and padded barefoot down the hall.

Despite the door being slightly ajar she raised her hand to knock, but heard something that shoved her very sensible plan out of her head.

Leo was groaning. Her head went straight back to the painful grimaces she’d glimpsed through the evening.

Pushing the door gently she poked her head inside the dimly lit room.

“Leo? You okay?” The sound came from the bathroom, and she instantly she wondered if the groaning could have a more carnal basis, and while her face flamed at the idea, her gut told her it wasn’t that kind of groan. But one of physical pain.

Knocking lightly, she heralded her entry. “Leo? What can I do to help? Have you had some pain relief?”

Thankfully, and thus saving her additional embarrassment, her instincts had been correct, and clad in just a pair of soft black boxer shorts, he was twisted up desperately trying to apply liniment to his back.

Without thinking her hand reached for the bottle. “Come out here where there’s more room and I’ll help you.”

“Ella, you don’t need…” His protestations were feeble, and he allowed himself to be led, pausing just once to turn to look her right in the eyes. “This is crazy, you know that, right?”

“Sshhh… I’m just going to help ease your pain and then I’ll go.”

“And right there is the problem…”

She ignored him and just kept him moving on.

Though, of course, out here , proved to be a slight problem because the only place for him to sit was on his bed, and once more, pulling on all her inner reserves, and reminding herself that he was in pain and this was an errand of mercy, she guided him there and gently pushed him down, climbing up behind him and began applying the lotion.

All of which, in her head, she’d imagined would be much more clinical. However, once her hand touched him, glided across this smooth, firm flesh: clinical flew out the window, and instinct driven by her own need, took over.

Lost in the moment, mesmerized by the repetitive motion, she realized he was all the things she knew he would be. All the things she’d dreamed in her fantasies. Warm, supple, strong… She heard his indrawn breath, felt his muscles tighten under her touch. Power surged through her.

Saying nothing, she widened the arc of her work area, felt him flinch when she hit more sensitive areas, wickedly coming back to them. Stroking, over and over…

“Ella…” The growl took a second to penetrate, so lost was she in the sensations of running her hands across his naked body, so lost in the desire to turn him and stroke all of him, every inch.

But then there he was facing her, his hands gently circling her wrists, drawing her to him, cupping her face as he brought his lips down on hers: hard and masterful. Possessing her; owning her.

This wasn’t like their last kiss, this one spoke to all the frustration, all the fear; the hope; the joy and the denial.

It was passion filled; his lips gliding across hers, his tongue probing, demanding entrance.

It spoke to desperation, and raw need, and she met him there, and poured out all of her own sadness, frustration and regret, purging them from herself for just this one mad moment in time that she would take it and hold near the wonders of Leo Halligan.

He shuffled, stretched his legs around her, pulled her into the V, and she answered by wrapping her legs around him, feeling his hardness against her, and instinctively she pressed herself closer; needing to feel all of him.

His hands roamed over her skin, his touch feather-like, sending sensations jolting through her, pebbling her skin, building heat.

He teased and swallowed her resultant groan of need.

She pressed herself against his bare chest, losing herself in the sensation of his beautiful solidness against her softness.

Her action gave the signal Leo must have been waiting for. With hands under her arms, he lifted them both, rolling them until she was under him. “Your shoulder?” she managed to rasp.

“What shoulder?”

Then his mouth captured hers once more, softer, coaxing, until he obviously needed more. She whimpered when his lips released hers and he gazed into her eyes.

Her heart raced, this man threw shade all over every experience she’d ever had, previous encounters had barely scratched the surface. A sense of rightness came over her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe never.

Definitely never…

*

If Ella thought finally satisfying the longing—that Leo-sized longing—would give her some peace, she was quickly dissuaded of the notion.

She couldn’t have been more wrong. Their night—and yes, it had been the whole night —had been amazing, more than amazing; and seemingly all day long she found addition superlatives to describe their experience.

She’d glided into the next day, despite little sleep, and found it impossible to wipe the smile off her face, even when the entire flour container spilled all over the floor while she was baking with the children on the counter helping.

Leo was no better. He’d greeted her with his lazy smile that had been playing havoc with her senses since the first day they’d met, before leaning in for a long slow kiss.

“Good morning.” He’d grinned again. “Now if I was some crass, self-satisfied kind of guy, I’d add something cheesy like, good night, too .

Or great night .” Eyes soft, his voice low, in almost a whisper, he’d added, “But not only am I not crass, neither of those words come close to describing what we experienced.” Lifting her hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss against her skin. “Thank you.”

Words clogged her throat, and she’d closed her eyes, simply let the joy of the moment surge through her; basking in the afterglow.

And what an afterglow. It felt like so much more, almost like.

… No, it couldn’t be and she would not allow herself to entertain such fantasies.

It was just afterglow. She could not be in love with Leo Halligan.

Couldn’t and wouldn’t allow it, because that would just make everything more difficult.

Especially as she still hadn’t confided her biggest secret.

She’d scooped the children up and raced upstairs, claiming to have a busy day ahead.

Anything but stand there and have him see something that she couldn’t give, misinterpret their encounter.

Because she couldn’t hide her soppy expression, and if he saw it, it might surmise she felt more for him than she dared to admit.

And that would be wrong, she had to remember that.

Regardless, she wasn’t up to arguing the point.

If he argued. Maybe he just wouldn’t care.

Of course, she’d barely been able to think about anything else all day but them together; she and Leo and their one night. Even now, hours later, the truth continued to nag at her. It couldn’t continue. It was madness. They were playing with matches that would eventually burn them both.

Tonight, she’d tell him. Tell him they couldn’t go on this way, that once was all they could have; tell him everything. Surely that would be the ultimate lust-quencher. And once the children were asleep for the night, they would have that exact conversation.

Maybe he had the same intention, who knew?

But ridiculously, there was no conversation.

They’d barely sat down, squashed together on that ridiculously tiny sofa, before they were again in each other’s arms. Kissing and then sliding onto the floor, sinking into plush carpet, both somehow naked or almost, unable to keep their hands off each other.

And it was just as thrilling, wonderful, and headline grabbing as the previous night.

As they lay panting and spent, Ella attempted a note of sanity. “Leo, we really need to talk. This is… It’s incredible but—”

His mouth swallowed the rest of her words. “I know. But tomorrow. Okay? You can barely keep your eyes open, and the kids will be full-on as usual.”

Was it cowardly to give in so easily? As her eyelids fluttered closed she figured she’d worry about being a coward tomorrow and accept his offer.

Though, she did refuse to be carried upstairs, not only to avoid aggravating his sore shoulder.

This time though exhaustion drove them—reluctantly—to their own beds.

Sleeping together wasn’t an option if they wanted to get any sleep. They had responsibilities.