Still the One Read online

  He reached a hand and tilted her chin to look directly into her eyes. His voice was soft but assertive. “We did the right thing, Em. We did. Otherwise we’d have brought each other too far down.” It was the same thing she’d been telling herself, but now she wasn’t so sure. If she’d stayed maybe they’d have survived together, come out stronger. But maybe they’d have come out hating each other too. There was his wistful smile again. “Now, there’s that awful Merry Christmas song you made me listen to over and over and over. You want to dance to it?”

  “You hate dancing.”

  “Yes, I do. But we have to practice some moves for tomorrow. It took all I could to convince them not to do a flashy formal wedding-party dance like you see on YouTube. But I know I’m going to be expected to do some kind of dance thing at some point. The least you can do is help me with a few basic steps, you know how bad I am.”

  “Woeful.” She grinned, remembering how much he’d hated that kind of thing. How much she’d teased him for it. Good times. There’d been so many. Before…before they’d lost their way. “For old time’s sake?”

  “Yeah, and for that too.”

  “Okay. Let’s dance.”

  She took his outstretched hand—it was warm and steady and a perfect fit in hers. More, it was safe. Something she’d never felt with him before, and it thrilled her. So hell, yes, she definitely preferred this new Daniel. He wasn’t carefree and careless anymore, but he was certainly far more surprising.

  Chapter 6

  Big bloody mistake.

  But he’d agreed to divorce her, not to stop wanting her. Truth was, he didn’t know where his mind was at. And his body was even worse; every sinew, every single cell, strained for her.

  Daniel looped his arm around Emma’s waist as the DJ dropped the music down tempo the second they stepped onto the dance floor. She paused as if to go back to her seat, but there was no way in hell he was letting her leave, slow smooch or not. This could be the last time they would do this. “Stay?”

  She didn’t look convinced. As if one slow dance would be the undoing of whatever she’d decided was her plan. But as he touched her arm as gently as he could she smiled. “Sure, why not? Just one dance.”

  She looked up at him, all flushed cheeks and dewy eyes and for a second he fought the urge to kiss her again.

  Friends didn’t do that. So he kept it low key.

  He rocked with her in time to the music. Or at least, the best he could, given he had two left feet. Her cheek was almost against his but he kept a safe distance from those lips. “So what are you going to do when the wedding’s over?”

  She brightened. “I was thinking of going into the city and doing a bit of sight seeing. Visiting friends. Chilling. Getting a tan.”

  No impending lawyer’s appointment? “You’ll get a nice tan in Brisbane. Plus, lots of attention from the snakes and the spiders.”

  “Are you trying to put me off?”

  “Just keeping you alert to danger, Em. That’s all. It’s my job.” As a cop, and a husband. “Seriously, be careful.”

  To freak her out he scurried his fingers slowly up her spine and she stiffened, twisting away and back and into his arms. “Okay. So, I know there isn’t a spider on my back. I’m not falling for that game, Daniel. I know all your moves, remember?”

  “Okay. Your funeral.” He looked at her shoulder and made a play of fear. “No. Seriously. Shit. Don’t move. Do. Not. Move.”

  “What? What is it?” She froze, eyes widening as he stretched a trembling hand out and made a play of flicking off an attacking arachnid. As she watched him her mouth tightened into a scowl. “So not funny. You always were a player. And no, I’m still not convinced. Do that again and I’ll stick more than a Santa hat where the sun doesn’t shine. Don’t forget, I’m a doctor, I know exactly how to hurt people.”

  “Ooh, scary doctor voice. I’ve never heard that one before.” He laughed. The difference in her was striking. Back when he’d first needed help with the drinking she’d been there, but when things had gotten tough she’d shied away as if his suffering made him weak in her eyes. Difficult and Emma hadn’t mixed well—not if it meant uncomfortable for her too. But he could see that being on her own, traveling, fighting for herself, working hard, had all made her stronger. In a good way. A very good way. “And that’s as maybe, but I don’t think you’re quite cut out for the outback just yet.”

  She straightened her spine and pulled away from him, just a little. All fight and eager to prove herself. There was space where she should have been. He didn’t like that. But she smiled at him and his heart clutched. Damn it, he should have been more of a man all those years ago. He should have fought for her and made her stay, but he’d been too busy fighting for himself.

  “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart, I can look after myself. I’m going to be living in the city and I’m thinking there won’t be many things to eat me there…,” she answered, filling that space with bravado.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” He wanted her close. End of. To kiss that pout away, to smooth her body beneath him. He wanted her in so many ways it made his heart ache. Wrapping her in his arms he whispered into her ear, “You look mighty tasty to me.”

  Her cheek met his. It was hot. She was hot and breathing a little hard. “And you are corny as all hell.”

  “I like to think so. I’ve been working on that line for a while.”

  Her palms met his chest and heat exploded through him. “Well, I’m sorry to say that your efforts are wasted.”

  “You know me, I’m more actions than words anyway.” He dragged her even closer and pressed his mouth against her cool temple, felt the rapid beat of her pulse against his lips. And hell, yes, there were people watching and he didn’t care. If this really was the end then he wanted to go out with a bang. Literally.

  Surprisingly, instead of pushing away she curled into his kiss, running a finger down the front of his shirt, stopping at the first button and flicking it with her perfectly scarlet fingernails. “Daniel, what are we doing? We’ve just agreed to split.”

  “Damned if I know.” Was that his voice? Hoarse and raw. Even he could hear the sexual need in it. “But it feels good so let’s not stop.”

  He took her silence as an answer. Well, at least she hadn’t said no.

  As the music swayed more upbeat he still held her close, pressing his body against hers, reacquainting himself with the feel of her curves. For a long time there were no words, just touching; her arms, her back, her face.

  Just looking; into her eyes—the sharp bright blue now misted with the same desire he felt deep in his gut.

  Just dreaming; about tonight. About a future. Could it be possible?

  Did he want that? Could he even try to give her that? He had a bad record for breaking promises, and futures weren’t something he could commit to. He took every day he didn’t drink as a miracle. That was why he’d agreed to sign the papers.

  So, he should have walked away. He should have been stronger, but the pull to her was too much. He might have agreed to a divorce, but that didn’t mean he wanted it. And as he’d said before; words were one thing, action was something else altogether.

  She smoothed her palms over his chest, his biceps, down his back, never moving her gaze from his and with each stroke the need for her rose and rose like a threatening storm— acute, dangerous and inevitable. Sparks of awareness prickled over his skin. He wanted her. In bed. Now. Because now was all he could offer.

  It took a moment for him to realize they’d stopped dancing. That people were starting to dance around them, smiling and clapping. Reluctantly, he broke the spell that had woven between them. “Em, we’ve got to get off this dance floor.”

  “There’s some mistletoe, over there,” she whispered along his jaw, and pointed to a couple kissing in the doorway underneath a posy.

  “You don’t like corny. And that is probably the ultimate in corny. Besides, I don’t need mistletoe as an excuse to kiss yo
u.”

  Her hand dropped from his chest and she grabbed his fist, dragging him away from the dance floor. In ten strides they were in the now empty doorway. “But it’s there for a reason, and we shouldn’t let that reason go to waste.”

  He looked up at the tiny white buds and green leaves. “It’s plastic.”

  “Picky much, Mr. Romantic of the Year? But it is Christmas Eve and you know how you said you should have tried harder…?”

  Here was his chance. “Oh, in that case…”

  But this time she was the one in a hurry. She clamped her hands to his cheeks and kissed him. Full. Hard. Hungry. And he kissed her back, answering her need with one that was two years in the making. He showed her who he was now, who he could be with her by his side, in his life. He poured everything of himself into that kiss. The regret. The promises. He told her he was sorry. He told her how much he had loved her. How he had never wanted to let her go.

  How he still didn’t.

  Pinning her against the doorframe, he trapped her in his arms, holding her prisoner as he re-learnt her curves. But she was the one with the damn keys to his heart and she was the only one who could ever release him from the prison he’d locked himself in.

  Always, and only Emma.

  She drew her hand away and moaned against him. “You want to go somewhere?”

  “Yes.” Actually, he wanted to undress her right here. But instead, he kissed her forehead and tried to recover himself. They were in a public place. “But I have to get everyone back to their hotels tonight and the dashing groom has to be put to bed.”

  “The meal doesn’t finish for at least two hours. Everyone seems quite happy.” Her hand tightened in his. “I know a place. Remember? Come on.”

  “Not…?” He followed her outside to the back of the vineyard building. A bright moon lit the star-filled sky. To their left, vines stretched as far as they could see. To the right, a path led down to a beach.

  “Come on.” Her urgency heated his blood. “Come on, Danny. You said for old times’ sake. You remember, surely?”

  “Of course. How could I forget?” The first summer here. Marshall’s had been a regular haunt of theirs. And one evening…well, one evening they’d done exactly the same thing.

  He ran after her through the grass, spurred on by her gentle laughter. The sound of raucous singing fading into the distance, whilst nearer, the gentle crash of waves on sand drew him closer to the beach. To her.

  It took him two seconds to lay his jacket down on the sand, and her on top of it. He had so many questions, so many reasons not to do this, but they melted away as she smiled up at him.

  “So, hello, wife. Here we are again.”

  “Husband.” For a little while longer at least.

  “You are so freakin’ beautiful.”

  Her hands fisted his shirt. “So are you. Now shut up.”

  He stroked across her forehead, over her nose. Kissed her gently, unsure how fast to go. How much she really wanted this, or whether she was just re-living a memory. For him, it was a no-brainer. He wanted to create new memories, with her.

  Then she pulled him to her and pressed her mouth against his and he molded himself to her for one last crazy time. Heat exploded inside him as she feverishly grasped at his shirt.

  He undid her halter neck dress straps and let them fall, taking time to look at her exquisite breasts encased in white lace. Nothing had changed. And yet everything had. She was beautiful, so much more than before and he ached to be inside her, to have her rock against him.

  But she was charging ahead, reaching for his zipper. He pressed a hand against hers. “Hey, there’s no hurry. No hurry at all.”

  “You think? I’ve been going mad thinking about this.” Her words stoked the fire in his gut. How many times had he wanted to hear his wife say that to him again? She was breathing hard and fast but she let go of his zipper. Kissed him hot and opened-mouthed. Wet.

  “I want to kiss every inch of your body, Em.”

  “God, yes.” As she moaned against his head he sucked in a nipple, grazing the perfect pink skin with his teeth. The bud puckered and he sucked it in again. Another moan that stoked the fire in his gut.

  What the hell were they doing? Was this the right thing to do?

  But he was lost in her, lost in the sensation of being with her—that had never, ever, dwindled. He’d loved making love to her, being with her. Having her.

  He kissed a trail down her smooth flat belly and she bucked against him sending sensation after sensation of lust rippling through him. The soft lace of her panties was a barrier for only a second until he ripped them away and pressed his fingers against her soft wet curls. He groaned against her hip. “You feel so good. I need to be inside you.”

  “And the kissing every inch?” She laughed, reaching and grasping again for his zipper. “What about that?”

  “I can multi-task.”

  “Oh, yes. I remember that very well.” His zipper was down and she released his erection. He groaned into her hair as she wrapped her fingers around his length. He’d never been so hard for anyone, not even for her. But this new confident Emma was astonishing. So sexy. So damned hot.

  But it wasn’t just about making love under the stars. There was a new connection building. Certain and solid, untainted by the past. There was hope in her eyes mingling with the desire and the glittering laughter, and that filled his heart with hope too.

  So it wouldn’t do to be too quick. He wanted to savor this, to burn this night into his memory. He wriggled from her grip and bent his head to her hip, kissed her there. Lower. And lower until he was pushing her folds apart and his tongue lapped deeply. She smelt so good. Fresh and musky as she arched her back and writhed against his mouth.

  “Oh my God, Danny. That is…amazing. Oh, my God.” Her hands gripped his head as he felt her shudder, and he licked her faster. Harder. Until she called out his name over, and over, into the night.

  * * *

  Emma’s eyes slammed shut as her orgasm trembled through her leaving every cell aching for more. More kisses. More Daniel. He was already under her skin, in her heart and in her head now she wanted him physically inside her, whole and hard and deep.

  Still seeing stars she dragged at his pants, panting in anticipation, “Get these off, now.”

  “Whoa. Scary doctor voice. Looks like I’d better comply. Or else. Yes, ma’am.” Laughing, he wriggled out of his trousers, snatching kisses and playful bites along her neck as he did so.

  He’d always known exactly how to pleasure her, each stroke a tease, tender and rough at the same time. He’d always known how to drive her insane with a kiss and today was no different. She unbuttoned his shirt and ran her fingers along his chest. Then she lifted herself to meet him, skin-on-skin, felt his heat invade her, his scent cling to her. She rubbed her head next to his heart. Covering herself in his aroma, making herself his. Only ever his.

  He pulled her towards him, settling her on his lap, her legs straddled over his and he kissed her deeply. His tongue plundered her mouth and she kissed him back hard and fast. The intensity of heat and his need was possessive and all male and all powerful. He was claiming her as his.

  Somehow he managed to drag his mouth away from hers. “Are you sure?”

  “Hell, yes.” More sure than she’d ever been about anything in her whole damned life.“Condom?”

  “Pill.”

  He nodded. Then his hardness was against her thigh, nudging gently against her nub, rubbing against her clitoris. With one sharp thrust he was filling her and she sighed her pleasure into the dark night. She flung her arms around his neck to steady herself, to lock herself against him, nails grazing his shoulders as she stifled more cries with more kisses.

  This was what she’d dreamed about. This was what she’d wanted so badly for so long, this was what had been missing. Her heart expanded, filled with a raw emotion as she closed her eyes against threatening tears. This. Him. Us.

  He gripped
her bottom as he thrust over and over, faster and faster and she met him rhythm for rhythm in a melody so old and yet new, thick and intense. Pressure inside her began to mount and she ground her hips in a slow circle until every part of her was connected with him.

  When she thought she couldn’t last any longer he changed position, laying her gently on his jacket and raising his hips to thrust ever deeper, ever harder. Faster now, as he was gazing at her, hands locked on her cheeks. And she gazed right back at him, trying to hold tears back, silently telling him that yes, this night… This…this was the right thing to do.

  “Emma…my love. It was always you,” he moaned as he shuddered into her. “Always and only you. I…I…oh, God.”

  “I know.” A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. She finally let go and melted into his arms and into his kisses. “I know, Danny. I know.”

  * * *

  For a few moments she lay in his arms, exhausted, invigorated. Aching for more.

  Her heart was swollen and her throat was full. In England this had never seemed possible. And even yesterday she couldn’t have imagined doing this with Danny. But if this was wrong; if celebrating, honoring and enjoying the man she’d committed to spending her life with was wrong, then she certainly didn’t want to be right.

  She turned and nuzzled her face into his chest, curling into his steady heartbeat and clasping his hand under her chin. She could feel his smile against her head as he stroked her hand.

  Something hard rubbed against her palm. His wedding ring. The lump in her throat tightened. “I can’t believe you kept on wearing your ring even when I was on the other side of the world. Even when I asked you to put my things in storage, and when I told you about the divorce papers.”

  “I’m still married.” He took her left hand and massaged over her bare ring finger. He didn’t need to say anything more. Her stomach tugged and tied itself in knots.

  “I still have my ring.” She reached across to her bag and dug out the little white box. She’d taken it off, yes, but there had been a part of her that hadn’t been able to let it go.