THERE was something to be said for sitting beneath a stripy blue beach umbrella next to a little tin shed half full of Vespas and dreaming about a man. It helped pass the time, decided Serena. It kept a brain agile and a body…aware. The breeze playing with her hair put her in mind of Pete’s hands in it, the sun on her skin reminded her of the warmth of his body. She wanted to be back in his arms. Soon. That was a given. The trick lay in figuring out how to get there without disgracing her family in the process.
Nico delivered her lunch a little later than usual. He looked tired, subdued. As if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and then some. But he handed her the day’s mail and her lunchbox, same as usual, and hunkered down in the chair beside her.
‘Chloe was waiting down at the docks when the boats came in this morning,’ he said finally.
That sounded promising. ‘Moon kissed roses will do that to a girl.’
‘Sam’s not at school.’
That didn’t sound promising at all.
‘She thought he might have been waiting for the boats to come in. Waiting for me. He wasn’t.’
‘Oh.’
‘Chloe told me what she’d said about his mother. She thinks Sam overheard her.’ He ran a hand through his already untidy hair. ‘Some of his clothes are gone. His wallet… Chloe thinks he’s gone.’
‘Gone where?’
Nico shrugged helplessly. ‘I checked the ferry terminal, the ticket office. He didn’t buy a ticket off the island, no one saw him getting onto a ferry. Chances are he’s somewhere on the island. I thought I’d take a Vespa out and look around. He’s probably just gone for a swim, or a walk. He does that sometimes. Skips out for a while. That’s probably all that’s happened.’
Serena nodded. ‘Yeah. He’ll be around.’ She looked up at the hill, looked out over the sea. ‘Where could he go?’
By mid-afternoon all the Vespas bar the one Nico had taken out were back in the shed. None of Serena’s customers had seen Sam; no one had seen Sam, according to Chloe, and Serena had decided to shut up shop for the rest of the day.
Chloe was helping her.
When Nico rode up and told them his sea catamaran was missing, Chloe’s face crumpled. Nico watched in silence, his own face a study in indecision before finally he reached out and drew Chloe into his arms.
‘Not quite the way I imagined it,’he murmured softly to Chloe. ‘Not quite the reason why.’
Chloe laughed through her tears, a choked, strangled sound, and her arms tightened around him.
‘You think Sam’s taken it out?’ Serena asked him quietly.
‘It’s too big for him, Serena. If he tips it he’ll never get the sail back up.’ Nico looked out to sea. ‘The wind’s blowing North East. I’ll take Theo’s speedboat out. If Sam has taken the cat he won’t have got far.’ He rattled off Theo’s radio frequency, Serena wrote it on her hand. She wrote it on Chloe’s hand too, the one still wrapped around her cousin.
‘I’m coming with you,’ Chloe told Nico shakily.
‘No.’ He set her away and smoothed the hair from her face with gentle hands. ‘You keep looking for him here. Keep asking around. Get Marianne Papadopoulos onto it.’
‘I’ve already called her,’ mumbled Chloe. ‘I’ve called everyone on the island. There’s no one left to call.’
Maybe not on this island. Serena pulled out her cell phone and started scrolling through her directory for a newly familiar number. Nico’s gaze sought hers as she put the phone to her ear and he gave her the tiniest of nods. He already knew where her thoughts were headed. She was calling Pete.
‘Where are you?’ she said when he answered the phone.
‘Kos,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Tell me you’re about to walk through this restaurant door in a sky-blue sundress and make my day.’
‘Sam’s missing,’ she said baldly.
Silence from Pete’s end, silence from hers while she waited for him to comprehend the situation and change direction. He did it in a heartbeat, moving smoothly from lover to warrior and earning her undying admiration in the process. ‘Have you reported it to the authorities?’
‘Chloe’s doing it now. He hasn’t been gone all that long, only a few hours, but Chloe’s worried about him. We all are.’ She gave him the worst of it. ‘Nico’s super-cat is missing too.’
‘Where’s Nico?’
‘On his way to the harbour. He’s taking Theo’s speedboat out to look around.’
‘What’s his radio frequency?’
She gave it to him, along with Nico’s mobile number.
‘Give him mine,’ said Chloe anxiously, and she gave him that too.
‘Pete—’
‘Keep in contact with Nico,’he said. ‘Try and contact some of the other boats you know are in the area. Ferries, fishing boats, charter boats. Concentrate on finding that cat.’
‘How soon can you get here?’ She wanted him here. Needed him here. They all did.
‘Soon.’
Serena had never felt more at a loss for direction in her life. She and Chloe had taken a Vespa and scoured the nearby beaches for Sam but they’d seen no sign of him and after an hour of fruitless searching they’d decided to head for the village and for Marianne Papadopoulos’s shop. The older woman had the best gossip network on the island, they reasoned. If anyone could get people mobilised and out looking for Sam, she could.
She did. With efficiency more suited to a general than a baker Marianne Papadopoulos assembled her ranks, appointed her colonels and set them loose. Theo would contact all the vessels in the area. Other key people would organise land search parties if Sam didn’t show up soon. It was still early, she told Chloe gently. If Sam was on the island they’d find him. If he’d taken to the sea then Nico would find him. She didn’t say what they were all thinking. That for a city boy like Sam, the sea was a dangerous place and that if something happened to him out there they might never find him.
It was a big sea.
Chloe was too tense to eat; Chloe existed on coffee. Serena bypassed the coffee in favour of cake. Each to their own.
It was Marianne Papadopoulos who first heard the helicopter coming in.
‘You called Tomas’s pilot?’ she asked Serena bluntly. ‘The one you’ve been stringing along these past few weeks?’
‘Not stringing along,’ she said defensively. ‘Getting to know, and, yes, I called him.’
‘Good girl,’ said Marianne. ‘Here he comes now.’
‘Time to go,’ Serena told Chloe, wresting the half full cup of coffee from Chloe’s fingers and setting it on the counter. ‘Pete’s here.’ And to the older woman, ‘You have our numbers? You have Nico’s?’
‘You just get me your young man’s radio contact details and I’ll have them all,’ said Marianne and handed her a cake box. ‘For when you get hungry,’ she said. ‘For when you need hope.’
‘Have you found him?’ were Pete’s first words as he stepped out of the helicopter.
Serena shook her head.
‘I need to refuel,’ were his second. ‘We’ll be in the air in five minutes. Get in.’ He was all business, but he had a kiss for Chloe’s forehead as he saw her seated in the rear of the cockpit and a smile for Serena as he pointed her to the seat beside him in the front. ‘I’m glad you called,’ he said.
‘I’m glad you came.’
‘Who’s your ground-crew co-ordinator?’
‘Marianne Papadopoulos. She wants your contact details.’
‘She’ll get them. I’ve already spoken to Nico. He’s concentrating his search in the North Eastern corridor. We’ll broaden ours.’
He radioed Mrs P, gave Serena a map and told her to grid it up. He got them airborne, explained the search pattern they’d use and told them how best to scour the sea below them without courting excess eyestrain and fatigue. He kept positive, kept Chloe calm, kept them looking. With cool deliberation Pete Bennett, air-sea rescue helicopter pilot, took charge.
Serena had never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life.
They searched for what felt like for ever, until the little helicopter needed to refuel. He sent them to the bathroom when they landed, made them drink and eat cake while he arranged with Theo to find spotlights, searchlights he could attach to the helicopter when they refuelled next. If they didn’t find Sam soon, they’d be searching in the dark.
With just over two hours of daylight left he took them up again.
Serena shaded in more little boxes on the map on her knees and scoured the water below them for some sign of Nico’s catamaran, some sign of Sam. But they didn’t find either.
The wind blew stronger as the day wore on. Tiny whitecaps formed on top of the waves and the light started to fade, making searching for things like small boys alone in the water harder. Serena’s eyes felt dry and gritty but she didn’t stop looking. No one did.
It felt like hours later when Chloe spoke up. ‘There,’ she said, her voice thready with fatigue. ‘There’s something over there.’ There being over to the west, straight into the sun. The something that Chloe was referring to being a white speck that Serena had to strain to see.
‘I see it,’ said Pete, and something in his voice made Serena sit up straighter and catch her breath as they changed course, dipping lower as they sped towards that speck of white. He was on the radio to Nico, relaying coordinates, almost before Serena could make out the shape of a sail in the water and a small figure clinging to an overturned catamaran hull.
‘It’s him. We found him!’
Pete smiled grimly. ‘Yeah, but we still can’t get to him.’
‘He’s not moving,’ said Chloe, panic lacing her voice as she fumbled with her seat harness. ‘He’s hurt. His head’s all bloody!’
Pete brought the chopper in for a closer look, balancing their need to know more with Sam’s need to stay clinging to that hull. The noise should have roused the boy; the spray kicked up by the hovering helicopter should have done it… Not too close, not too close…
‘His hand moved,’ muttered Serena.
Not moved, thought Pete grimly. Slipped.
‘He’s letting go,’ said Chloe, wrenching a life-jacket from beneath her seat and opening the door.
‘What are you doing?’ Pete swivelled round in his seat to glare at her.
‘Chloe—’ began Serena, unbuckling her own seat belt.
Chloe ignored them both, tugging the inflator tag on the lifejacket and hurling it out and down. Pete watched the life-jacket settle on the water a good fifty metres away from the target.
Chloe swore. Serena sought to calm her. ‘Sam doesn’t need it. He’s got the hull. Nico’ll get him.’
‘Tell him to hurry,’ said Chloe and disappeared out the door after the life jacket.
Pete felt the weight of the helicopter shift, adjusted for it, swinging high and wide and swearing long and loud as Chloe hit the water. ‘Fifteen feet!’ he raged. ‘A swimmer jumps from fifteen feet, dammit!’ Thirty feet and a body could break a leg. Fifty feet and people started dying. ‘Where is she? Where the hell is she?’ Had she gone in feet first? The clearance between the door and the rotor blades on this thing was tiny. Had she crossed her arms as she’d gone out the door or flung them above her head? Hell! Did she have any arms left?
‘It’s okay.’
He wrestled with the helicopter, got it back where he wanted it, off to one side of where Chloe had gone in and far enough away from Sam so as not to disturb his hold on the hull. He looked back to find Serena hanging out the door, looking for Chloe, and his heart did stop. ‘Get back in the cockpit,’ he roared. ‘So help me, Serena, if you follow her I’ll kill you myself!’ His words were drowned by the thumping of the rotor blades but she heard him, looked back at him, her hair flying about her face as she grinned at him.
‘I’m not!’ she roared back. ‘She’s okay. She’s got the lifejacket!’
‘She’d have had it to start with if she’d put it on before she jumped!’ He longed for a Seahawk, and a crew. Sean running the winch and Merry in the water. A safety line and a basket, some damn way of getting Sam—and now Chloe—into the helicopter and headed for land, but a man made do with what he had and got on the radio and told Nico that there were two in the water now and to get a move on.
Nico’s savage curses echoed his feelings perfectly. The other man didn’t need to ask who else was in the water and Pete had no mind to tell him. The two most important people in the world to Nico were down there—he’d get there as fast as he could.
‘It’s all right,’ muttered Serena, putting her hand to his shoulder as she climbed back through to the front and settled into the seat beside him. ‘Chloe’s a good swimmer. A good sailor. She’ll right that cat and sail it if she has to. Where’s Nico? How far away?’
‘He’ll be here,’ he told her and edged the helicopter higher and wider so as not to impede Chloe’s passage to the catamaran. She was almost there, was there, and he watched in grim satisfaction as she hauled herself up on the hull, straddled it and put the lifejacket on before edging towards Sam. Finally some sea craft and some sense.
‘Look,’ said Serena in a choked voice and he watched as Chloe inched towards the boy, talking to him, all the time talking to him, as tears coursed down her face. Sam’s eyes fluttered open, and his hand moved towards her, just a fraction. And then Chloe was hauling him onto the hull, gathering him up in her arms and he was clinging to her as if he’d never let go. ‘It’s going to be all right. Chloe’s got him. Look. She won’t let go.’
Pete nodded curtly, not wanting to tell her that it was far from okay. They didn’t know how bad Sam’s head wound was—whether it was just a bump or if he’d done some real damage. He didn’t want to remember the times when not letting go simply hadn’t been enough to see a soul through. Not this time, he prayed to whatever God cared to listen. Please, not this time.
He manoeuvred the helicopter higher. There was nothing they could do but give Chloe and Sam smoother seas and less noise. Nothing to do but lift that bird higher so that Nico could see them; so that they could see him coming. He radioed Marianne and the authorities, arranged for the doctor to be waiting when Nico brought them in. There was nothing left to do.
He waited until Nico appeared on the horizon, skimming across the water in Theo’s speedboat like a low-flying bullet. He kept the Jet Ranger hovering until Nico reached them. Watched as Sam’s arms suddenly found strength and he clung to Chloe until finally, finally Nico persuaded him to let her go.
When Nico had settled Chloe in the speedboat with Sam back in her arms and blankets around them both, Pete turned to Serena and smiled his relief.
Mindless of the throttle and the controls she covered his face, his cheek, his hair with kisses and promptly burst into tears.
When her tears and her kisses had diminished somewhat he ordered her back in her seat and finally headed for land.
The locals who had joined in the land search for Sam had already gathered in Chloe’s taverna by the time Pete and Serena stepped into the hotel a good half an hour after landing. He accepted the beer Theo and Marianne Papadopoulos set in front of him with a grin, accepted the congratulations they offered, but he wasn’t quite ready to celebrate, not yet.
Yes, they’d found Sam, but until a doctor or a medic had checked the boy over and cleared him of serious injury Pete’s celebrations would remain subdued.
Serena sat beside him at the bar, her eyes weary but her smile impish. They’d bought her a beer too. ‘We found him,’ she said as she touched her glass to his. ‘Cheer up, flyboy. Smile a little.’
He smiled a little. ‘It’s a start.’
‘It’s a good start,’ she corrected him.
More locals filtered into the room, drawn by shared concern and hope of good news. This was a tight-knit community and for tonight at any rate they were willing to let him be part of it. They knew who he was. They congratulated him on his efforts and on finding Sam.
‘It’s my job,’ he started to say more than once, only that was a lie and he refused to be caught in it. He wasn’t an air-sea rescue pilot any more. He didn’t know what he was.
He wanted to know how serious the boy’s injuries were. He wanted the relief that would come with knowing that Sam was going to be fine. Then he could celebrate.
Serena’s phone rang and she covered her free ear from the din as she took the call, leaning forward, resting her elbows on the bar.
‘Shh,’ said Marianne, her eyes as sharp as ever and her senses honed for gossip. ‘Shh!’
The crowd quietened a little, not a lot, and Pete placed his hand on the small of Serena’s back, seeking her warmth, offering his. The eyes of the crowd were upon them this night but he didn’t care what gossip might come of his actions. Serena mattered to him; her happiness and her future mattered to him. So did Sam’s.
He was through with being discreet.
He leaned forward, his brow almost touching hers as she tucked a thick fall of hair behind her ear with shaking fingers before seeking his free hand with hers, twining her fingers through his and holding on tight. ‘They’re back,’ she whispered. ‘Sam’s with the doctor now. Nico says he’s talking, that his eyes are clear and that the cut on his head doesn’t look that big now that they’ve cleared most of the blood away.’ Her eyes sought his, filling with tears. ‘Nico says the doctor says he’s fine!’
She stood up abruptly, repeated her words in Greek and the crowd erupted. People started kissing him, his face, his hair, and somehow he was standing and Serena was kissing him too.
The mood really turned celebratory after that and by the time Nico and Chloe walked in, Nico carrying a drowsy boy with a big sunburn and a mercifully little bandage on his head, it was standing room only. The three of them stayed a few minutes, just long enough for Sam to receive the kissing treatment and Chloe to thank everyone for their help and declare drinks on the house. And then, stating firmly that Sam needed to rest, all three of them made their escape.
Pete stayed long enough to collect more congratulations, stayed long enough to see Serena drawn into the laughing crowd, part of it in a way he would never be, before he too took his leave.
Serena knew it the minute he left. She thought he’d be back. That maybe he’d gone to check in. He was hero of the hour and he’d been enjoying it, she could have sworn he had, but as twenty minutes slipped by and then another twenty and he still hadn’t returned, Serena began to doubt that he would. Would he leave without telling her?
She didn’t know.
He’d seemed subdued. Even after seeing Sam, talking to him, and telling Chloe to never ever jump out of his helicopter like that again, he’d been subdued. Adrenalin was a funny beast. Hours later her body still thrummed with it. The air tasted sharper, the lights shone brighter. She was hyper alert, almost bursting out of her skin with energy. Did he feel that way too? The bulk of the decision-making regarding the search had rested with him these past few hours. Did he feel more?
How the hell did a person handle more adrenalin than this?
She checked with Reception only to find that he’d booked a room but wasn’t in it. She checked with Chloe and Nico but he wasn’t there either. She walked outside, her eyes drawn to the track that led up to her grandparents’ cottage and beyond.
She looked to the sky and thought she knew where she might find him.
Serena stopped off at the cottage on her way. She needed a jacket against the coolness of the night air, never mind that her walk up the hill would conceivably keep her warm. She grabbed the lightweight blanket at the foot of her bed at the last minute, and, trusting to moonlight rather than a torch she set off up the goat track.
She found him on the plateau, with the lights of the village spread out below him and the stars shining above. She dumped the blanket at his feet and waited for him to speak.
He looked at the blanket, looked at her, and the faintest of smiles crossed his lips.
‘Is that a hint?’ he said.
‘You left early.’
He shrugged. ‘I’d had enough.’
‘You don’t like it when people honour you?’
‘I like it well enough.’
‘So why leave?’ Why leave without me? was what she meant.
He looked at her, his eyes dark and unfathomable. ‘I’m tired, Serena. I couldn’t think back there. And I needed to.’
He was thinking about other rescues, other times when his best just hadn’t been enough. She could see it in his eyes.
‘You were wonderful today. You know that, don’t you?’
He shrugged. ‘It’s a situation I’m familiar with. It’s just training.’
‘Then I’m glad you chose to undertake it.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I watched you today. Watched you come alive in a way I’ve never seen before. Watched you be what I’ve always known you could be. It was a beautiful thing. Made me realise something I think you already know in your heart.’ She moved forward to cup his cheek, drawing his gaze to hers. ‘You don’t belong here, Pete Bennett. Flying tourists around these islands or mustering cattle or hauling cargo or whatever else it is you think you might do next. People need those skills you’ve learned. The air-sea rescue service needs them. Go home.’
‘That’s your advice?’
‘Well, yeah. I realise it’s a little short on ways to manage those feelings that made you run in the first place, but I’m working on that.’
‘You are?’ He smiled a crooked smile. ‘Let me know how it goes.’
She planned to. ‘I know it gets personal when you don’t save a soul. It cuts deep. Because you care. Because failure isn’t an option for you when it comes to saving lives.’
‘It’s an option, Serena. It’s a reality.’
‘I know. But when you’re up there searching for someone it’s not your reality. Not until death rams it down your throat.’
He didn’t disagree with her. Couldn’t, she thought with an ache in her heart. ‘Ask me why I called you when Sam went missing.’
‘Because you needed a helicopter?’ He brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles, gentle, so very gentle for a man with such strength.
‘Because we needed you. Because you care. Because failure just isn’t an option for you when it comes to saving lives. It’s quite a conundrum you’ve got there, flyboy. Because if you didn’t feel the loss of the people you couldn’t save quite so keenly you wouldn’t be nearly as good at saving the ones you do.’
‘That’s not advice, Serena. It’s a summary.’
She had to laugh at the stubborn jut of his chin, had to step in closer and set her lips to it. ‘All I’m saying is that if you accept the bad as a necessary part of the work you do, it might not weigh so heavy on your soul.’ Now that was advice. Whether or not he would take it was anyone’s guess.
‘I’ll think about it later.’ His eyes darkened as his gaze came to rest on her lips. ‘I’m thinking about something else right now.’
‘Oh?’ Her hands settled on his shoulders. So much strength in this man, so much heat. ‘What might that be?’
‘You.’
‘Excellent. Because I’m hoping you’ll give me some advice. Happens I find myself standing here with an overabundance of energy I can’t seem to get rid of.’
‘Leftover adrenalin.’ His lips brushed hers, lingering, promising, dragging gently and setting her nerves on fire. ‘You need to give it direction.’
‘I’m so glad you agree.’ She set her lips to his for a hot, open-mouthed kiss and directed it, all of it, straight at him.
He wasn’t prepared for it. He hadn’t realised just how fast she could ignite his passion and rouse his hunger. Too much. More than he could handle and still be careful of her. And still he let his need for her come and when it did he feared it and gloried in it in turn as her mouth played his; hot, soft, knowing.
‘Slow down,’he murmured as sensation crashed over him like a wave, dragging at his control, trying to wrest it from him. ‘Please, Serena. Slow down.’
‘Can’t,’ she muttered. ‘There’s only you, only this. Help me.’
But her words had pushed him beyond helping anyone.
He fisted his hand in her hair and tugged, exposing her neck to his lips, grazing her collar bone with his teeth not nearly as lightly as he would have wished. He found the throbbing pulse at the base of her neck, tasted salt on his tongue as she threaded her hands in his hair, tilted her head back and offered up more.
He wanted to savour her, to take his time, but his hands rushed down her back, over her curves, and his grip turned hard and biting as he dragged her lower body against his. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered as he surged against her, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.
‘The blanket,’ she muttered as she writhed against him, her fingers dealing swiftly with the buttons of his shirt.
He backed off, letting her go long enough to find it and spread it out before reaching for her again and dragging her to the ground. He wanted her on her back, naked and open. That was the start of it. Heaven only knew where his hunger would take them after that. He fumbled with the buttons at the front of her dress. No, not a button, it was a snap. He tugged. One snap. Two. A flurry of snaps as she shrugged out of the dress altogether and she was lying down, her eyes not leaving his face as she crossed her wrists above her head and offered her body to him and the night, to the sky, like some pagan goddess.
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ It was a plea, a warning, and came straight from his soul. His hands were at her hips, on her thighs, too rushed, too needy. Just like his mouth as it followed his hands, teasing, biting, ravenous.
‘You won’t,’ she whispered, and with a ragged oath he pushed her thighs wide open and set his mouth to her.
Serena bucked beneath the lash of his tongue and the wild desire that speared her body. Her hands fisted and she cried out, a high keening sound that spoke of a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, but she did not make him stop. And that hungry, knowing mouth drove her higher and higher with ruthless precision. Too fast, but she couldn’t slow down, too much and still she ached for more. She was out of control, out of her depth with this man, but she didn’t care. She needed him. And then climax ripped through her and Serena closed her eyes as need vanished beneath the onslaught of outrageous, all-consuming pleasure.
He was looming over her when finally she surfaced, his hair mussed, and his eyes sharp with desire. She murmured her approval as he shed his shirt but it wasn’t enough. ‘I want more,’ she muttered, her hands moving down the taut planes of his stomach towards the huge, hard bulge in his trousers.
‘How much more?’
‘All.’ She undid his trouser buttons and then his fly. Pushed them down his legs until he was as naked as she was. ‘Everything.’
His curse was succinct. Appropriate. He sheathed himself inside her with one smooth stroke and she cried out at the urgency and the wildness in him. He rolled onto his back, dragging her with him and she rode him, blind with need, her body demanding its due as she took him deep inside her, until there was nothing between them, not even moonlight.
‘No,’ he whispered as he started to move, ragged strokes to match his breathing, every magnificent line of him radiating tension. ‘Not all. Not everything. I can’t.’
But he did.
With every fierce caress, he gave it. With every shudder of his body he showed it.
‘You and me, Pete Bennett. Whatever you want. Whatever you need from me. Take it.’ She was spiralling out of control, tightening around him, moments away from orgasm. ‘Because heaven help me I’m going to take what I need from you.’
‘All right,’ he muttered and it was both a curse and a prayer. ‘All right, then.’ His lips crushed down on hers, drinking her in, driving her insane. ‘Together.’
He honoured his word. In the lovemaking that followed they reached the stars together. He honoured his word in the way he roused her from sleep at dawn and pulled her against him; back to front, like spoons in a drawer as they watched the sun rise from the ocean.
Serena watched, breathless, until the sun gained its freedom from the water and then she rolled over onto her back and looked her fill at another view just as breathtaking. The sunrise had held a soft and gentle beauty. The man leaning on his elbows staring down at her possessed a different kind of beauty, his face all angles and planes, his mouth straight and unsmiling. She looked to his eyes, unprepared for the utter bleakness she saw in their depths. And then he smiled and his eyes warmed.
‘I want my camera,’ she murmured.
‘For the sunrise?’
‘For you.’ She breathed deep to catch his scent. ‘You’re magnificent. When you smile you fill my heart. When you’re solemn you damn near break it.’ She couldn’t get enough of this man. Every time she touched him, kissed him, made love to him, she wanted more.
He ran a hand through his hair and sat upright, taking most of the blanket with him.
‘Places to go, flyboy?’
‘Exactly. Not to mention someone else’s business to run.’
‘Does that mean that if it were your business you’d be inclined to linger?’
‘Probably. You do strange things to my perception of what’s important. Now get up.’
Pleasure warred with indignation. Pleasure won as she trailed a finger down his back. ‘Five more minutes,’ she said.
‘No.’
She trailed a finger up his back, pleased when he shuddered beneath her touch. ‘Four and a half.’
He turned swiftly, pinning her to the ground, his eyes stormy but his touch gentle. ‘Three,’ he said gruffly.
But he gave her ten.
‘What’s your current position on discretion?’ Pete asked her as they staggered down the hill towards the cottage. He needed coffee, food, and a scalding shower, all of which could be found at the hotel if his knees would carry him that far. Right now he was aiming for the cottage.
‘I’m thinking it’s a lost cause.’ She stumbled over a rock, cursed as she got her feet beneath her and kept moving. ‘Nico’s at work. Or should be. There’s food at the cottage. Coffee,’ the word was almost a whimper. ‘Fresh clothes.’
‘I’ll take the food and the coffee,’he muttered. ‘Keep the clothes. Put them on. Keep them on.’
‘Good idea.’
They all but fell into the kitchen and Serena headed straight for the fridge and a tin of fresh coffee beans that she dumped, double strength, into the coffee-maker before shoving a mug beneath the spout and turning it on. Civilisation poured into the cup, hissing and steaming, bringing with it rational thought and a groan of pure appreciation.
Breakfast began to happen in front of his eyes; a skillet full of sausages and tomatoes, bread in the toaster, another pan of eggs. ‘Is that enough?’ she wanted to know. ‘It doesn’t look like enough.’
‘It’s enough.’ Never half measures with Serena, not in anything. He loved that about her. Despaired of it.
‘Where will you be today?’ she asked, keeping it casual, keeping it light, but he was fresh out of casual. He’d tried to play it her way this morning, tried to play the game, but his heart wasn’t in it and therein lay the crux of the problem. His heart lay elsewhere.
‘Kos.’
‘You’re going back to collect your passengers from yesterday?
‘Yes.’
She shot him a wary glance before taking a quick sip of her coffee. He had that grim look about him again. The one that said don’t push me, don’t poke, but she wasn’t. Was she?
She’d been doing her utmost to pretend that the events of yesterday and last night hadn’t shaken her to the core. Seeing firsthand his compassion and his strength. Demanding it for Sam, watching him deliver, and even after the job was done she hadn’t had the courtesy to leave well enough alone. Rearranging his life for him, telling him where she thought he belonged, never mind his own thoughts on the matter. She didn’t even know what his thoughts on the matter were.
‘About what I said last night…’ she muttered awkwardly.
He regarded her coolly. ‘You said a lot of things last night, Serena.’
‘About your work.’
‘I mean, it’s up to you. Why should I have a say in what you do?’
His lips twisted. ‘Why indeed?’
He set his coffee down on the bench, took the tongs from her unresisting hand and set about turning the sausages she’d forgotten. ‘It’s all right, Serena,’ he said quietly. ‘You didn’t say anything I wasn’t already thinking.’
‘So… You’re going home?’
‘Yes.’
Sausage fat spat in the pan as her conviction that he was doing the right thing warred with a piercing sense of loss. She summoned a smile. ‘I’m glad for you. I think. When will you go?’
‘As soon as I find a replacement pilot. It shouldn’t be too hard to persuade someone to come fly around paradise for a few weeks.’
‘No. No, it shouldn’t.’ The pain grew sharper and she tried to absorb it. She admired his decision to return to the world of air-sea rescue. Knew in her heart he belonged there. It was the thought of him leaving that hurt. She didn’t think she’d be able to look at a blue summer sky without thinking of him, and that was bad because there were a lot of blue summer skies in a lifetime.
At least, there should be.
‘I guess now’s the time to start being all civilised and mature about you going one way and me going another,’ she said, striving for lightness and failing miserably.
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘I can’t do it.’ He doused the flame beneath the skillet and turned to face her, his expression grave. ‘You asked for everything last night, Serena,’ he said quietly. ‘I gave it.’
He’d never done this before. He’d never been the one to ask for more than a casual relationship. But he was asking it now. ‘I’m going home, Serena. I want you to come with me. Be with me.’ There was no easy way to say it. ‘Marry me.’
He’d shocked her. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she stood so utterly still. It was too soon in their relationship, he knew it, knew damn well he was rushing her. But he’d run out of time. There was no other way. ‘I know the timing’s bad. And the last thing I want to do is stand in the way of your dreams or your job opportunities. We can talk about it. Work something out.’ His heart faltered at her continued silence. ‘Serena, say something.’
‘I—’ She reached out towards him with her hand as if pleading for something, only he didn’t know what. She already had all of him. He had nothing left to give.
He jammed his hands in his trouser pockets and took a deep breath as he turned to stare out the kitchen window at the sea beyond. ‘Think about it,’ he said gruffly. ‘I have a home on the Hawkesbury, just north of Sydney. It’s set in the hills overlooking the water. There’s a jetty there. A boat. It’s peaceful. Beautiful. A little bit like this place. With Sydney on the doorstep.’ Why wasn’t she saying anything? ‘You could work if you wanted to. You could freelance from home. Commute to Sydney. Whatever you’d prefer. We could get a bigger helicopter.’ She hadn’t moved since he’d started talking. She just stood there in silence. An ocean full of silence. So this was what it felt like to drown. ‘Dammit, Serena, say something!’
‘Like what?’ He turned his head to look at her and she stared back at him, her eyes blazing and her face pale. She looked tragically, heartbreakingly magnificent in her anger—if it was anger, she still hadn’t said enough for him to be sure. Maybe it only looked like anger. But it sure as hell didn’t look like joy. ‘That you’re tearing me in two? Well, you are!’
She put her hands to her head and stalked towards the table, turned and stalked back until she was level with him. ‘I thought we agreed,’ she said hotly. ‘I thought we were playing. That we were both playing. You know this game, Pete Bennett. Don’t you dare tell me you don’t!’
‘I know it,’ he said quietly, while his heart shattered into pieces at her feet. ‘I just can’t play it any more. Not with you. I’ve never been able to play it right with you.’
‘But you have to!’ she said, her eyes filling with tears. ‘You have to, don’t you see? I got the Athens job. The one you helped me get.’ And with a choking laugh, ‘Damn you, Pete Bennett, I got the job!’
He watched her race across the kitchen and slam out the door, out of his sight.
So much for asking her to be his wife.
Guess that was a no.