light the room, Jake sat on one supremely comfortable couch and Ailsa on the other. The mere fact that they’d done that so automatically grieved her more than she could say. Cradling the glass of wine she no longer had the slightest inclination to drink, she focused her sights on the fire blazing in the burner rather than on her charismatic ex-husband—even though her secret wish was to gaze at his compelling features for the longest time. A disturbing thought struck her. What if when they woke tomorrow morning a thaw had taken place during the night, melting the snow?
If so, there’d be no further need for him to stay …
‘Come back to me, Ailsa.’
‘What?’
The smoky-voiced command jolted her. So much so that she almost spilled her wine. In her heart, wild hope tussled with a more pragmatic desire to be sensible.
‘You went to a place where I couldn’t reach you. I don’t like it when that happens. It worries me.’
‘I—I was thinking what a shame it is that we can’t switch on the Christmas lights,’ she lied. ‘You worked so hard fixing them up.’
‘We’ll switch them on tomorrow. It’s not the end of the world if we can’t turn them on tonight.’
‘No … It isn’t. We’ve seen the end of the world, haven’t we?’ Her voice faltered, dropped to a bare murmur.
The fresh applewood log Jake had added to the fire crackled and hissed, and suddenly Ailsa was staring at long straight legs in velvet-napped, expensive blue denim as he came and planted his feet in front of her.
Gently, he took her glass and set it down on a nearby surface. ‘Come here.’
She didn’t argue. She didn’t have the heart. Besides, how could she argue with the man she had built every dream of love and hope around? It felt like heaven having him so close, sensing his warm breath brush her face, having his long-lashed blue eyes command her attention like no one else’s could.
As his glance roved across her fire-warmed features, it was perhaps the most intense that she’d ever seen it. The heat from his hands burned through the denim of her jeans as they settled round her hips. ‘I wish you didn’t hurt so much. It near kills me to think of you in pain in any way.’
‘It’s not your fault. It’s just that sometimes—sometimes the most dreadful feelings wash over me … feelings stirred by the terrible memory of that car hitting us. I can still hear the ear-splitting sound of the car tyres skidding in the rain. Even when I tell myself that one day the memories and feelings will fade, because this hurt can’t last for ever, I don’t think I really believe it. Most of the time I try and stay positive … not let things get me down … especially for Saskia’s sake. But then something reminds me, and the pain comes back and makes a liar of me.’
Jake’s hands firmed round her hips and Ailsa swallowed hard.
‘I just wish it was spring again, so that I could throw open all the windows and breathe more freely—do you know what I mean? Sometimes I feel so trapped it’s as though I couldn’t run far enough away to escape.’ She sniffed, knowing that inside her emotions were helplessly unraveling. ‘But of course I’m only trying to escape from myself.’
He didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. It was enough for her to know that he listened and understood. She exhaled abreath that wasn’t quite steady. Then he was kissing her—kissing her as though the desire had erupted pure and undiluted straight from his soul. If there was the slightest inclination in her to regain control then Ailsa willingly surrendered it. Beneath the onslaught of devastating emotion and the wild, hungry need that her heart and body easily matched she felt like the fragile frond of a willow, borne on a hurricane into the drowning rapids of a thunderous waterfall …
CHAPTER SEVEN
J AKE drew Ailsa down onto the couch behind them and never—not even for a moment—separated his mouth from her lips or his hands from her
If so, there’d be no further need for him to stay …
‘Come back to me, Ailsa.’
‘What?’
The smoky-voiced command jolted her. So much so that she almost spilled her wine. In her heart, wild hope tussled with a more pragmatic desire to be sensible.
‘You went to a place where I couldn’t reach you. I don’t like it when that happens. It worries me.’
‘I—I was thinking what a shame it is that we can’t switch on the Christmas lights,’ she lied. ‘You worked so hard fixing them up.’
‘We’ll switch them on tomorrow. It’s not the end of the world if we can’t turn them on tonight.’
‘No … It isn’t. We’ve seen the end of the world, haven’t we?’ Her voice faltered, dropped to a bare murmur.
The fresh applewood log Jake had added to the fire crackled and hissed, and suddenly Ailsa was staring at long straight legs in velvet-napped, expensive blue denim as he came and planted his feet in front of her.
Gently, he took her glass and set it down on a nearby surface. ‘Come here.’
She didn’t argue. She didn’t have the heart. Besides, how could she argue with the man she had built every dream of love and hope around? It felt like heaven having him so close, sensing his warm breath brush her face, having his long-lashed blue eyes command her attention like no one else’s could.
As his glance roved across her fire-warmed features, it was perhaps the most intense that she’d ever seen it. The heat from his hands burned through the denim of her jeans as they settled round her hips. ‘I wish you didn’t hurt so much. It near kills me to think of you in pain in any way.’
‘It’s not your fault. It’s just that sometimes—sometimes the most dreadful feelings wash over me … feelings stirred by the terrible memory of that car hitting us. I can still hear the ear-splitting sound of the car tyres skidding in the rain. Even when I tell myself that one day the memories and feelings will fade, because this hurt can’t last for ever, I don’t think I really believe it. Most of the time I try and stay positive … not let things get me down … especially for Saskia’s sake. But then something reminds me, and the pain comes back and makes a liar of me.’
Jake’s hands firmed round her hips and Ailsa swallowed hard.
‘I just wish it was spring again, so that I could throw open all the windows and breathe more freely—do you know what I mean? Sometimes I feel so trapped it’s as though I couldn’t run far enough away to escape.’ She sniffed, knowing that inside her emotions were helplessly unraveling. ‘But of course I’m only trying to escape from myself.’
He didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. It was enough for her to know that he listened and understood. She exhaled abreath that wasn’t quite steady. Then he was kissing her—kissing her as though the desire had erupted pure and undiluted straight from his soul. If there was the slightest inclination in her to regain control then Ailsa willingly surrendered it. Beneath the onslaught of devastating emotion and the wild, hungry need that her heart and body easily matched she felt like the fragile frond of a willow, borne on a hurricane into the drowning rapids of a thunderous waterfall …
CHAPTER SEVEN
J AKE drew Ailsa down onto the couch behind them and never—not even for a moment—separated his mouth from her lips or his hands from her
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