Оценить:
 Рейтинг: 0

The Marriage Bed: An Ideal Marriage? / The Marriage Campaign / The Bridal Bed

Автор
Год написания книги
2018
<< 1 ... 22 23 24 25 26 27 >>
На страницу:
26 из 27
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля

She let her hand rest on his thigh, and didn’t explore.

Occasionally his fingers would move in an absent pattern that quickened her pulse and triggered the heat deep inside her.

It was a delightful, leisurely prelude to a rhapsody that would gather momentum and crest in a passionate climax.

Gabbi wasn’t disappointed. Just when she thought there were no more paths she could travel, Benedict took her along another, gently coaxing, pacing his pleasure to match her own before tipping her over the edge.

Close to sleep, she whispered, Je t‘aime, mon amour, to the measured heartbeat beneath her lips. And wondered if he heard, if he knew.

They rose early and took a leisurely walk along the beach, then stripped down to swimwear and ventured into the ocean.

The water was cool and calm, the waves tame, and afterwards they sprinted back to the house and rinsed the sea from their skin and hair, donned casual clothes and ate a hearty breakfast out on the terrace.

‘How do you feel about a drive to the mountains?’

Gabbi took a sip of coffee, then rested the cup between both hands. Visions of a picnic lunch and panoramic views were enticing. ‘What of the call you’re expecting?’

Benedict subjected her to a measured appraisal, then moved his shoulders in an indolent gesture. ‘Divert the house phone to my mobile, sling the briefcase and laptop onto the rear seat.’

It wasn’t often he took an entire weekend off. All too frequently his time was spent in the study in front of the computer, surfing various global financial sites on the Internet. Leisure was relegated to social occasions, and even then business was inevitably an ongoing topic of discussion.

Hesitation wasn’t an option. ‘Let’s do it.’ She replaced her cup on the table and rose to her feet. ‘I’ll make sandwiches.’

He put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘We’ll pick up something along the way.’

The phone rang, and Gabbi froze as Benedict crossed into the house to take the call. The day’s pleasure disappeared as she heard the curt tone of his voice, saw him make notes on paper then fold the sheet into his shirt pocket.

Nice plans, she thought with wistful regret as she cleared their breakfast dishes onto a tray and carried them through to the kitchen. Pity they had to be abandoned.

She was determined not to show her disappointment. ‘Shall I take more coffee through to the study?’

He shot her a sharp look. ‘I need an hour, maybe less. Then we’ll leave.’

‘Can I help?’

He gave a brief nod of assent, and she followed him to the study.

The fax machine held paper, and Benedict collected it en route to the desk. Within seconds the laptop was up and running.

They worked together side by side and, when the document was done and checked, it was consigned to the printer then faxed through to the States.

‘OK. Let’s get out of here.’

Five minutes later Benedict reversed the four-wheel drive from the garage and, once clear of suburbia, he headed west, taking the mountain road to Mount Tamborine.

‘Thanks.’

‘Whatever for?’

The terrain was lush green after seasonal subtropical rain. Grassed paddocks, bush-clad hills, homes on acreage, working farms.

They were gaining height as the bitumen road curved round the foothills and began its snaking ascent towards the peak.

‘The weekend,’ Gabbi elaborated. ‘Today.’ For the simple pleasures that cost only his time and therefore were infinitely more precious to her than anything money could buy.

‘It’s not over yet.’

No. The sun suddenly appeared much brighter, the sky a magical azure.

As the road wound higher there was a spectacular view of the hinterland, and in the distance lay the ocean, a sapphire jewel.

They reached the uppermost peak and travelled the road that traversed its crest, past houses of various ages and designs, an old-English-style hotel, and a quaint café.

The village was a mixture of shops with broad verandahs clumped together, and they stopped to purchase a large bottle of chilled mineral water, some delicious ham and salad rolls and fruit. Then they walked back to the four-wheel drive and drove to a grassed reserve with magnificent views over the valley.

It was isolated, picturesque, and Gabbi felt as if they were perched on top of the world, removed from everything and everyone. It was a heady feeling, more intoxicating than wine, breathtaking.

Benedict unfolded a rug and spread it over the grass beneath the shade of a nearby tree. They ate until they were replete then sprawled comfortably, at ease with the vista and the silence.

A true picnic, it reminded Gabbi of the many she’d shared with Jacques in the days when laughter had risen readily to her lips and the only cares she had had were studying and excelling in her exams.

‘Penny for them.’

Gabbi turned at the sound of Benedict’s drawling voice, and gave him a slow smile. ‘We should do this more often.’

‘That’s it?’

He sounded mildly amused, but she could play the faintly teasing game as well as he. ‘You want my innermost thoughts?’

‘It would be a start.’

‘I love you’ was so easy to say, so difficult to retract. Whispered in the deep night hours was one thing—voiced in the early afternoon on a mountaintop was something else.

‘I was thinking this is a little piece of heaven,’ she said lightly. ‘Far away from the city, business pressures, people.’

“The place, or the fact we’re sharing it?”

She offered him a wide smile that reached her eyes and lit them as vividly as the blue of the ocean in the distance. ‘Why, both, of course. It wouldn’t be nearly as much fun on my own.’

He curled a hand beneath her nape and brought his mouth down over hers in an evocative kiss that teased, tantalised and stopped just short of total possession.

‘Witch,’ he murmured a few moments later against her temple. ‘Do you want to stay here, or explore the mountain further?’

She pressed a kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat and savoured the faint taste that was his alone—male heat mingled with cleanliness and exclusive cologne.

‘We’re close to a public road, it’s a public park, and we wouldn’t want to shock anyone passing by,’ she teased, using the edge of her teeth to nip his skin. ‘Besides, there’s a plane waiting to take us back to the rat race.’

‘Tomorrow morning. Dawn.’
<< 1 ... 22 23 24 25 26 27 >>
На страницу:
26 из 27