He laughs. ‘Busted. Or at least, that’s where I started off. Since then I’ve had another idea.’
‘What? Fill up the bath and just lie in it?’
He jumps up off the mattress and holds out his hand. ‘Better.’ He picks up the thin, strappy cotton dress I was wearing earlier off the armchair in the bay window and hands it to me. ‘Put this on.’
I scrabble my way to the edge of the bed and take it from him. ‘What? Why?’
‘My darling wife wants cool water? I’m going to give her cool water.’
CHAPTER FIFTY
JESS
‘You’re insane!’ I tell Luke as he slows to drive down a narrow road between two low chalk cliffs, then pulls to a stop on a tarmacked promenade. A crescent of sand is spread before us, silvery in the moonlight. ‘You drove us all the way to Dumpton Gap?’ It’s taken more than an hour to get here.
‘You wanted cool water,’ he says, mock-affronted. ‘And I can’t think of any place better than this. You’ve got the whole of the English Channel to cool your fevered brow here!’
‘But we could have stopped at Whitstable or Herne Bay!’
He shakes his head. ‘Stony beaches. Only the best for you, my sweet. Soft golden sand all the way. Come on … ’ He opens the car door and gets out. Laughing softly, I do the same.
He jumps off the promenade onto the sand and waits for me. I kick my sandals off, and when I join him, he grabs me by the hand and starts running right down to where the frothy surf meets the sand. And then he doesn’t stop running. The cold sea water is a shock to my system but a delicious one. However, Luke keeps going.
‘Luke! My dress is getting soaked!’ I scream, trying to pull him back onto dry land.
He resists at first, but then suddenly gives in. I’m pulling so hard that we both stumble back onto the wet sand and fall over. The next wave rushes in, crashing over my legs and drenching me up past my hips.
He just laughs. ‘Then take it off … ’
I scrabble out of the surf onto the hard, compacted sand, not sure if I’m choking on sea water or merely laughing. ‘But we rushed out the house so fast I didn’t even think to bring my cossie with me!’
He drags himself up the sand and starts peeling the spaghetti strap of my dress off one shoulder. ‘And this is a problem … why?’
I gasp and smack his hand away. ‘Oh, my God! This was your plan all along!’
His answering grin seals his guilt.
‘But people will see us!’
He glances up at the headland. Although entrance of the beach is in a quiet residential area just north of Ramsgate, the low cliffs obscure the beach from most of the surrounding houses, except for a handful of buildings on the headland at one end of the small bay and what looks like a New England mansion on the other.
‘Who’s going to see?’
He’s right. Not a light is twinkling in any of them, and the long rows of beach huts lining the promenade and the small café near the entrance road are in complete darkness.
I chuckle. ‘So this is why you didn’t turn off for Broadstairs? Too many buildings overlooking the beach there.’
‘Exactly. Now, are you going to remove those things or am I going to have to do it for you?’
I lie back on the sand. ‘I think you’re going to have to do it for me.’
Luke gets serious then. Taking his time, he eases my arms from one dress strap and then the other, then peels it down my body and throws the half-sodden garment onto the sand above our heads. My bra is next, and he stops to kiss the skin he exposes, causing a dart of need to shoot right through me. The contrast of the cool water lapping at my legs and his warm hands on my flesh is heavenly. I grab for his open shirt and easily tear it from him and send it flying to meet my dress.
He eases my knickers down my legs, stopping to stroke and tease, until I close my eyes, throw my head back and dig my fingers into the gritty sand. And then it’s my turn. I stand up to meet him, waves bubbling around our feet and remove his shorts to find he isn’t wearing anything underneath them.
We stare at each other, smiling, and then he takes me by the hand and leads me into the waves. This time I don’t resist; I just trust him, let him lead me deeper, and then the sand falls away beneath our feet and we’re swimming. There’s something about almost icy water flowing round my body that makes every nerve ending fizz.
We stay in the water for maybe ten minutes, hardly a word said between us because we don’t need them. We seem to know when we want to lift our feet and swim, circling round each other, and when we want to pull each other close and touch, explore.
