* * *
Sophie couldn’t move.
Or perhaps she simply didn’t want to.
She had no idea what time it was but the curtains of her bedroom window were open and there was no softening of the night outside to suggest that dawn was imminent.
The longer it took, the better.
She just wanted to lie here, in the circle of Luc’s arms, the steady thump of his heart against her own skin.
Such a comforting sensation. A living pulse that hinted at a new life. Sophie could feel a seed of something like joy deep within her that was trying to blossom. It should be the happiest she’d ever felt.
So why did she have tears rolling down her cheeks? Why did her breath catch in a tiny gasp that made the muscles in Luc’s arms tense instantly around her body?
‘What is it?’ His whisper was urgent. ‘What’s wrong?’
Sophie’s response was a futile effort to stop the tears. What Luc did was to press his lips against her hair. His arms softened only to draw her even closer to his body. His words were muffled but they didn’t need to be anything other than what they were.
An expression of reassurance. Of love. Of understanding.
But he didn’t understand. Not really.
Sophie swallowed the huge lump in her throat.
‘It’s not you,’ she managed. ‘Or me. Or us… It’s…’ The enormity of it was making it hard to find words. ‘I get it. That’s all…’ She lifted her tear-streaked face. ‘All those years of thinking my mother was stolen from me… Hating what he’d done to me and my dad. But… now I get it.’
Luc’s dark eyes were scanning her face, the waves of his loose hair framing his face. His brow was furrowed.
‘Who was he? Oh, my God, Sophie… was your mother’s death not an accident?’
‘His name was Diego,’ Sophie said softly. She had to clear her throat to continue. ‘He was Spanish and he was a dancer… and a yoga teacher. My dad didn’t tell me until I was grown up but she’d desperately wanted a second child and it didn’t happen. She had a miscarriage when I was ready to start school and it was very hard on her. He encouraged her to get out of the house and it was Dad who found the flyer about the yoga classes at the local community centre. Mum started going. About a year later, she said she wanted to go to a yoga retreat for a week. In Bali. It was expensive but Dad was only too happy to make it happen because… she was happier than she’d ever been.’
Luc was listening quietly. Still watching her. Still holding her close.
‘There was a scooter accident. It was only after we got the terrible news that Mum had been killed that we learned the rest of it. It was a yoga retreat for only two people. We don’t know if she’d been having an affair with him all along or whether the trip to Bali was the start of it but…’ Sophie had to squeeze her eyes shut for a breath. ‘There was no getting away from the fact that she’d left us to go away with him. Maybe she wasn’t even planning to come back.’
Luc’s sound was one of empathy. ‘That must have been so hard.’
‘It broke Dad. I don’t think it even occurred to him that he could have tried to find someone else to share his life with. Mum was the only person he’d wanted. His only purpose in life after that was to keep me safe. He tried to hide the truth from me but everybody was talking about it. I was too young to understand any of it. I just missed my mum so much and it seemed like Dad had lost what mattered the most to him. We never seemed to get away from living under the shadow of it. The shame, I guess.’
‘You had nothing to be ashamed of,’ Luc said.
‘We weren’t enough,’ Sophie said. ‘She found something she wanted more. When I was about thirteen, I was looking in a drawer for something and I found the old flyer that was advertising the new yoga classes at the community centre. There was a photo on it and that was the first time I saw what Diego Garcia looked like.’ She swallowed. ‘I knew that he was handsome. He had curly dark hair that almost reached his shoulders and he had a moustache and a little goatee beard. He wore bracelets and necklaces made of wooden beads and he had a smile that made it look like he loved life… and it loved him back. When I was older, I realised that he was the quintessential bad-boy type but, by then, I had him pegged as the devil incarnate. He had stolen my mother and she’d been too weak to resist his charm and that…heat… that came with that kind of attraction. I was never, ever going to make that mistake. I was going to find a man that would keep me safe. Like my dad had.’
Luc was very quiet. Did he know what she was about to tell him?
‘You reminded me of him,’ she whispered. ‘I was afraid of you from the moment I met you because you made me feel things that I knew my mother had probably felt. That heat. I had to stay away from you. And…’
‘And Tom was there.’ Luc’s words were as quiet as her own. ‘And he was like sunshine to my shadow. A safe haven.’
Sophie nodded slowly. ‘I didn’t dare even think about how I felt – except when I was totally alone. In my own bed. When… when I let myself wonder what… it would be like.’
Luc’s voice was raw now. ‘Whatwasit like?’
Sophie could feel a flush in her cheeks and a spiral of renewed desire in her belly. ‘Too good,’ she murmured. ‘But not anything like as good as it really was. That’s why I get it. I understand why my mother couldn’t resist. I… think I can finally forgive her.’
Luc pressed another kiss on to her hair and Sophie tilted her head. She wanted to feel his lips on hers again. And her body was craving his touch just as much.
