“Absolutely, completely sideswiped,” she admitted. He wished he could have been there with her, to help absorb the surprise of it all.
“Did you think about keeping it from me?”
“Yes,” she surprised him by admitting. “For about ten seconds, I did. You were so adamant that it was just one night, I knew this would be the last thing you wanted. I genuinely wondered if it would be kinder not to bother you with it.”
That alternative reality bloomed before his eyes, ice spreading through his veins to imagine Elodie doing all this on her own. Living with her parents, back in the orbit of her ex, worrying about how she’d cover bills, all the while he merrily went on with his life, with no idea that he was a father. A life that now seemed so hollow and pointless, in so many ways.
He’d spent more than two years in a weird kind of fog, giving into his most basic needs rather than facing up to the devastation of what he’d lost. He’d let anger dictate his every move, but maybe that anger had also been ruining his life. He thought he’d been showing his agency by sleeping with whomever he wanted, living how he wanted, making reckless decisions in his business and personal life, but what if that had all been a function of his anger and loss?
“I’m glad you told me,” he said, wondering if she’d ever realise how true that statement was. This baby wasn’t just a new life; it was a new life for Raf. A second chance. It was the wake-up call he hadn’t known he needed to stop messing around and be the man he could be. To be better. For their baby, he’d do whatever it took.
CHAPTER 11
THE NEXT MORNING WAS unseasonably warm, and after having a piece of toast, an apple, and her sole coffee for the day, with no sign of Raf, Elodie changed into a swimsuit and padded out to the pool. The sky was a perfect blue for as far as she could see, and the water was delightfully refreshing as she stepped into the water.
Her body was awash with sensations already, her nerves stretched almost to breaking point by the dinner she and Raf had shared not too far from where she now swam.
After the start of their conversation, which had been heavier than Elodie had intended, Raf expertly navigated them onto easier topics, and before their dessert was presented, they were laughing about baby names, coming up with the most ludicrous combinations they could imagine.
By the time Elodie realized how utterly exhausted she was, she was having a really good time. The powerful sexual pull between them was still there, but there was also something else—pleasant companionship. She was just enjoying sharing a meal with Raf, talking to him.
It was the last thing she’d expected.
She fell into bed bone weary, and yet, for a long time, sleep didn’t come. Their evening had replayed through her mind again and again, especially the way he’d held her, then kissed her, the way his eyes had held hers, so when sleep had finally claimed her, it was little wonder that Raf had been in all of her dreams.
She’d woken frustrated. Full of need and knowing she couldn’t act on it. Knowing she wanted the impossible, given the complications of her pregnancy.
To let something physical happen with Raf would threaten everything they’d pledged: to do what was right for their baby. No matter how much she wanted him to kiss her again, she couldn’t let that happen.
With that commitment lodged firmly in her mind, she swam slowly from one end of the pool to the other, tapped the coping and then turned, to swim back the other way.
She did several laps before she saw him, and even that was quite by accident. Her eyes had been chasing the lines of the villa, admiring a stunning hot pink bougainvillea with its hungry shoots spurting over the walls in explosions of colour. Just the sight of it made her happy. But as she tracked its growth, she caught a hint of movement, and realized Raf was standing at one of the windows, hands on hips, attention focused squarely on Elodie.
Her lips parted and her pulse burst through her veins.
Everything went all technicolour, and all she could hear was the gushing of her pulse in her ears, like the ocean, thundering to shore.
Beneath the water, she was aware of the way her nipples hardened, tingling, begging for his touch, as memories of the way he’d kissed her breasts on that night they’d slept together tormented her. Slowly, she lifted one hand, clearing her throat as she waved a small gesture of greeting. His response was to turn on his heel and disappear from the window, leavingher frowning, and wanting, even more than she had been that morning.
He hadno idea how he was going to do this.
Just the sight of her walking into the pool in a bikini had almost given him a heart attack. He’d been moving from one room of the house to the other, intending to do some work, and instead, he’d found himself standing, staring, dumfounded at a window, as he just watched her swim one lap after another, each stroke lithe and sensual, her command of the water enough to make his whole body catch fire.
What the hell was it with this woman?
When she’d seen him, it had been like an oil line had been ignited. Flame seemed to burst from her to him and back again. Did she feel it, too? He thought he’d detected something, in the hint of pink in her cheeks, but he had no idea.
Elodie was the one who’d walked out on him that morning—that was telling. Looking back, knowing what he knew now, he wasn’t sure if he would have been strong enough to do the same, had their positions been reversed. Not without taking her one last time.
That’s what he’d woken up wanting then, and it was what he’d woken up wanting today.
So, the sight of her in a barely there bikini was a fast track to being completely undone.
He stalked through the house rather than return her wave, almost as if he could undo the impact of having seen her. He shut the door to his office firmly, metaphorically closing the door on thoughts of Elodie, and forcing himself to work.
To his surprise, it actually worked. He stayed locked in his office for the better part of the day, his mind straying more often than he would have liked to Elodie, wondering what she wasdoing, where she was, if she was okay, before reminding himself that they had a month to get to know one another. That it was all about their baby, not them.
He had no business drooling after her like she was his. Because she wasn’t. And he didn’t want her to be.
