Was this all he was capable of—sex? Did he really have no interest in ever having a family, something and someone more permanent in his life? And, if sex was all he wanted, then why was that? She had seen so many facets of him and yet the way he was pieced together still eluded her and she would dearly love to find out more.
The pitfalls of being in love: it made you want to know everything about the person you loved. In Gabriel’s case, that would be a suicide mission. That was something she felt in her bones, with gut instinct.
‘That was...amazing,’ he murmured, sliding off her, but immediately lying on his side and turning her to face him.
Alice murmured agreement. Making love had been a conscious decision on her part, but she could still feel tension seeping in, tension at knowing that, whilst she was fully committed to their relationship, he wasn’t.
It was amazing for him because he had got what he wanted. What he felt was the satisfaction of the victor and it was a satisfaction that was not going to last for ever.
But she wanted for ever.
Her own innate honesty compelled her to recognise that she would take what she could for as long as it was on offer because any bit of him was better than nothing. Yet the prospect of the end would hang over her like the hangman’s noose so that every time they made love, every time she laughed with him, felt his arms around her, it would be tarnished with a sense of sadness. She could feel the weight of the end on her shoulders even before what they had actually ended.
She wondered what difference it would make if she only knew what made him tick. Or at least some of what made him tick.
‘Tomorrow’s Sunday,’ she said, languid and content after their love-making. ‘What will you do? Head back up to London? My offer still stands to pop in to Harrisons in Exeter before I come back to work on Tuesday.’
So cool, Gabriel thought, so composed. No hint of any nagging or trying to wheedle him into staying on...
The perfect woman—but he couldn’t help feeling a little piqued at her offhand attitude. A tiny amount of possessiveness might have been nice, he found himself thinking. After all, hadn’t he made this trip down here just to see her? That in itself had been a break in tradition.
‘What are your plans?’ He turned the question back at her and Alice rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.
Her plans were what they always were—except tomorrow, she conceded, would include an informative chat about the new man in her mother’s life. Aside from that, as long a walk as Pamela Morgan could handle, maybe even making it into the village for tea, some light television and then she would make something for their supper.
What she would have really liked was to have Gabriel all to herself, but that was an admission she would never make...
‘I shall relax.’
‘In that case, I might relax here with you,’ Gabriel drawled, propping himself up on one elbow and tracing the outline of her rosy pink nipple with his finger until the prominent bud stiffened in automatic response.
However cool she might be, her body was as hot as his.
‘Really?’ Alice injected a note of surprise into her voice. ‘Surely you must have plans for the rest of the weekend?’
‘As of this moment I consider them cancelled.’
‘Because you’d rather spend time down here?’
‘It’s a beautiful part of the world.’
‘Yes. Yes, it is.’ She noticed that he couldn’t actually admit to wanting to put whatever previous plans he had made for his weekend on hold because he preferred to spend the time with her. ‘Although you might find it a bit boring,’ she said truthfully. ‘I don’t suppose you have much experience of living out in the countryside...’
‘I prefer the push and shove of the city. Suits my personality.’
‘Aggressive?’
‘You said it.’ He idly inclined his head to suck her pouting nipple before settling back into his former position, looking at her, his face only inches away from hers. She had the clearest brown eyes fringed by sooty, thick, dark eyelashes; eyes that were open and wary at the same time. ‘So, sell me this part of the world,’ he invited lazily. ‘Do your best pitch. Wax lyrical about walks in the open fields, tea and scones at somebody’s little shop—maybe a barn dance later at the village hall.’
‘Would you be interested in doing any of those things?’
‘I think we can eliminate the barn dance.’
‘Now, that just makes me wonder if there’s one on at the village hall,’ Alice teased. ‘I can’t see you enjoying walking in the open fields or having scones at the local tea shop, either,’ she mused. ‘Are you one of those city people through and through? Born and raised, would never leave it for longer than five minutes?’