The Reunion Of A Lifetime: The Reunion of a Lifetime / A Bride to Redeem Him. Fiona LoweЧитать онлайн книгу.
grabbed the net and scurried to his left, ready to scoop the flailing fish the moment it broke the surface.
‘Yuk!’ Shaylee shrank back into Charlie. ‘What’s that?’
Charlie laughed. ‘It’s a cracker of a squid, sweetie. It looks yuk but it will taste amazing.’
Lauren caught the prehistoric-looking cephalopod in the net to the cheers of the crowd and plunged it into the bucket to avoid being inked. Charlie stood up and held Shaylee’s arm aloft, as if she was a champion boxer. ‘Shaylee, the squid wrangler.’
One of the anglers sighed. ‘I’ve got a state-of-the-art squid jig and you caught it on a hook.’
His friend slapped him on the shoulder. ‘You gotta give her the luck, bro.’
‘She deserves it,’ Lauren said, thinking about Shaylee’s mother. ‘Hold it up, honey, and I’ll take a photo.’
Charlie helped Shaylee hold what looked to be about a two-kilogram squid. As Lauren lined up the yellow square in preparation for the photo, she read unadulterated joy on both their faces. It struck her that it wasn’t an emotion either of them wore very often. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. Don’t be pathetic...again! ‘Smile.’
‘Ian! Sue!’ Shaylee called after the photo was taken. ‘Look!’
Lauren turned and waved to her parents, who were strolling along the pier arm in arm.
‘That’s a beaut, Shay. Looks like you’ve been having fun.’ Ian winked at Lauren before swinging the little girl around. ‘We’ll be eating well tonight.’
Lauren’s heart rolled. Her father had so much love to give and she was fortunate to be his daughter, even if there’d been times growing up when she’d wished she didn’t have to share him with quite so many other children. She loved her parents, but their well-developed sense of social justice sometimes left Lauren feeling unworthy. Although neither Ian nor Sue had ever said anything, she knew they were disappointed they weren’t already grandparents. Lauren was disappointed for them too. For herself. The sad memory of that long-ago miscarriage suddenly rushed her and one lone tear resisted her rapid blinking and spilled over. She was thankful she was wearing sunglasses.
There was a whirlwind of packing up, of Sue and Ian making a fuss of Shaylee and pumping Charlie’s hand, thanking him for being there to help, and then her parents and Shaylee were in the car, driving away. Suddenly she was standing alone with Charlie under the Norfolk pines.
‘Still think fishing’s like watching paint dry?’
He grinned. ‘I think it’s more like being on call. There’s a lot of boring hanging around waiting and thumb-twiddling and then, wham! An adrenaline rush.’ He gazed down at her, the shadows cast by the sunlight pouring through the tree branches dancing on his face. ‘Of course, the best part of today is that you’re cooking.’
‘Hah! In your dreams. Shaylee caught it.’
His head dropped closer. ‘I reeled it in.’
Her stomach fluttered as his crisp, fresh scent circled her. ‘I netted it to stop it from slipping away.’
‘I see a problem.’ He tucked some strands of her hair behind her ear before his fingers lazily caressed it then slipped along the length of her jaw.
Mini-explosions of delight fizzed in her veins before seizing control of her mind and making all cogent thought difficult. It’s not Charlie making you feel this way, she quickly reminded herself. Ben or any other nice guy would generate the same buzz, because it’s been such a long time since you’ve been touched like this.
Lost in the bliss of his touch, she dug deep to find her voice. ‘You...you do?’ she said huskily.
But he didn’t reply, seeming also to have forgotten what they had been talking about. In an old but familiar way, the blue of his eyes deepened by the second, tugging her towards him as if she were hooked on a line and powerless to resist his pull. A tiny part of her cautioned, Don’t do this, but it held no sway. Curiosity was a far stronger beast. Would he kiss the same way he had all those years ago? Had he learned anything new? She had. She’d learned a lot—not so much about kissing but about men and about herself.
So, really, if she kissed him, it was all about proving the hypothesis that she was now a world-weary woman with eyes wide open, instead of a naïve eighteen-year-old weaving impossible dreams. This kiss was merely an experiment to prove to herself he was just another man.
She wasn’t aware if he lowered his mouth to hers or if she rose on her toes to close the slight gap, but the scratch of his stubble was prickling her cheek as his lips missed the mark. Not a perfect kisser after all, she reminded herself. Yet another faulty memory you’ve attributed to him. Then his hands gently cupped her cheeks, tilting her head, and he angled his mouth over hers—warm, soft lips—in a perfect fit.
A sigh rolled through her but she cautioned herself—she’d be a poor scientist if she allowed the first data to overwhelm her.
His touch was light yet firm, generously giving but with a gentle enquiry—Are you sure you want this? In the pursuit of her own scientific endeavours, she opened her mouth under his and he slowly and leisurely slipped in. It was in sharp contrast to the younger Charlie, who had kissed her long and hard until she’d run out of breath and seen stars. Regret for the enthusiasm of youth tugged at her.
Did he taste different? While she trawled her memory, her tongue was flicking, savouring and dissecting his flavours. Peppermint, coffee and something delicious. What was it? She stroked his mouth again and he suddenly groaned. His arms wrapped around her hips and he pulled her in close until she was flattened against him. Every part of him pressed her from chest to toe, filling every nook and valley.
Heat exploded, blasting her and igniting her desire until it was a raging fireball that melted her into a puddle of delicious and addictive sensations. Charlie’s restrained kiss vanished, replaced by an all-encompassing onslaught that made resistance not only futile but impossible. The squawks of indignant seagulls, the gentle lap of the sea against the sand, the low buzz of traffic and the occasional shouts of children receded. She no longer had the ability to examine, question and deduce.
All that mattered was Charlie’s touch, his taste, and the wondrous feel of him. She rested her cast on his chest and gripped his shoulder for support while her other hand roved through his hair. As their mouths duelled hot, hard and with an intensity that demanded their all, her breath came fast and shallow. Silver spots shimmered and spun behind her closed eyes and she didn’t know if she wanted to passively allow him to kiss her so she could savour it all or if she wanted to take control and dominate him.
His mouth slipped along her jaw, burning a trail of wonder and promise. Without any conscious thought her head fell back, exposing her neck. She craved his touch like a starving woman craved food and she took everything he offered. As he nuzzled her neck, his lips and tongue marking her skin with his touch, his hair brushed her face. The faint scent of cedar and masculine sweat tangled in her nostrils and she dragged in a deep breath, filling herself with it before kissing his hair. His lips reached the top of her tank top and the swell of her breast. He gave a gentle nip.
Her body jerked. Pleasure whipped her from head to toe, ramping up her need to fever pitch. She was no longer human—she was a mass of spinning and whirling elements driven by a yearning that dominated everything and left her panting. Every cell in her body hungered for him, demanding to be fed and filled. She heard a low, animal-like growl but she couldn’t tell if it came from him or her.
Her blood pounded loud in her ears, deafening her, but slowly the insistent buzzing and the shrill and regular ring of a bell penetrated her haze. Gasping, she gripped his head and somehow managed to stutter, ‘Ph-phone.’
Charlie drew back, his chest heaving, and he stared at her with unfocused navy eyes lit with a desire that matched her own. The pull was so strong she almost threw her arms around him again but the shriek of