With a ripple of powerful hips he thrust deeper, and she rose to meet him so that he filled her completely.
He bent his head and kissed her. So gentle, so fiercely erotic.
The moved together, two bodies with one entwining purpose. Slowly. Exquisitely. And then inexorably faster, desire flaming and obliterating restraint or even thought until only dizzying sensations and desperate need remained. And love.
She called his name as release pulsed through them.
The laughter and the camaraderie of dinner washed around and over Callie, and filled her with an aching sense of loneliness. She couldn't let herself be seduced by this world. A world she couldn't have. A world she almost desperately wished she belonged to. This was the family life she imagined when she allowed herself to dream.
The prospect of going home tomorrow and carrying on with her life felt unbelievably hollow.
She should be happy. The festival had been an unqualified success, and that was what she'd come here for. Nothing more. The money that would now go to the teenage shelter was at the top end of their most optimistic predictions. A good thing. Professionally.
Personally, she was a mess.
She had made love with Nick. Worse than that, she loved Nick. And she had no idea how he felt.
She would be flying out of Sydney tomorrow. And she didn't want to go. So much had changed. For the short time she'd been here she'd been happy. And the biggest part of that happiness had been Nick. Knowing he was there for support, for help, to talk with, to laugh with, to sit quietly with in the evening. Part of her was conscious of his whereabouts if he was near, and alert for his return if he wasn't. Things felt right this way. Yet it wasn't going to be.
He didn't do commitment.
She, however, did, and her commitment at the moment had to be to her business-her clients and staff back home. And in looking after them, she would be providing a future for herself and her child.
The family was lingering over coffee when she looked up to find Nick watching her. He stood, came around to Callie and held a hand out for her. "Come with me, there's something I want to show you."
With just that gesture and those words she suddenly felt that everything would be all right.
Half a dozen pairs of curious eyes followed them as they left. She sat with him in the Range Rover as he drove a few miles down the road, pointing out places of interest, pointing out other vineyards. He was Nick the tour guide. It was as though their lovemaking had never happened. He took a turn onto a smaller road, following it as it wound up into the hills.
After several minutes driving, they rounded a corner and he pulled over on the crest of a hill almost facing back the way they had come. The valley spread out below them, bathed in the golden glow of the sunset.
"What do you think?"
"It's beautiful. I've always loved the light and shadows of sunset. Look at the way the clouds are lit up." So beautiful it made her ache. Like being with him made her ache.
He smiled and that ache deepened. "So, you like it here?"
There was so much she liked here. The place cast a spell over her that was an extension of the one the man himself seemed to cast. Something about it, about him, threatened to make her forget herself. "What's not to like? The valley, the hills."
He pulled back. "Not the view, which I'll admit is beautiful, but the bungalow."
She followed the direction of his gaze. A little way ahead and to their right, partially screened by tall poplars, stood a spreading white bungalow, encircled by a deep wisteria-covered veranda. Callie could picture an easel set up on the veranda, imagine herself painting the valley through the seasons and the changing of the light.
She looked back at Nick. "It's gorgeous."
"It's one of ours. Lisa lived here when she first came to work for us a year ago as a lab technician. Then she met and married Gregory."
"She seems like she's been part of your family for years."
"She fitted in from the very start. You do too," he added quietly.
"They're easy to be with."
"They can be overwhelming. Lisa maintained that this place-" he pointed to the bungalow "-was the perfect distance. Close to the family and the winery. But not too close. It gets good light too. For your painting."
Callie watched him, uncertain. "Could we back this conversation up a little? Why would I be painting here?"
"Not just painting. Living."
A flare of hope ignited within her. She didn't dare trust it. "You're suggesting what?"
"That you move here."
Just that? That she uproot her life and shift here. She waited, but he added nothing further. The hope withered. It took several seconds before she found her voice. "I'm not going to live here. I have a home back in New Zealand. A business. Clients."
"You can work from here, or Sydney if you need to. The flights back to New Zealand are quick and regular. And you said yourself that your lease on your place is about to expire. Think about it." His voice was calm, patient. "You like it here. You've said as much."
He'd thought about everything. Made it sound so rational. But there had been no mention of those things that weren't rational, like feelings, like love. Nick the tour guide was suggesting she move here, not Nick the lover. The man she wanted to … love.
"And of course, you're having my baby."
She laid a protective hand over her stomach. "That's not the issue."
His gaze followed the movement, then he looked back up at her. "It's very much the issue. It's the beginning and end of the issue."
Meaning, if there was no baby he wouldn't care where she lived. Her head was spinning. "You're serious, aren't you? You actually think I'm going to move to the Hunter Valley to suit your convenience." The sad thing was that a part of her, the vulnerable part, desperately wanted to at least consider it.
"Think about it, Callie. It could work. We like each other well enough. I'd be able to see you and our baby regularly."
"You like me well enough." She couldn't keep the incredulity from her voice. She'd thought she hadn't needed Melody's warning, thought she was in no danger from Nick. But the danger had crept up nonetheless. And she was vulnerable to him. More than vulnerable, she realized. She'd gone right ahead and fallen in love with him. A man who didn't have the word love in his vocabulary. Not the type of love she wanted to give him and to have from him. She felt like she was about to crumple in on the sudden emptiness within herself.
"So, let me get this straight." She kept her voice level, didn't want to betray the fragility of her emotions. "Because I'm having your child, and there's a house free on one of your vineyards, and because it would be convenient for you, and we 'like' each other well enough-I should uproot my life and come and live here? For what, Nick?"
Nick didn't say anything.
"What about sex? You forgot that. Maybe you could come over sometimes for sex too. I mean, we know that's good between us."
"You're taking this all wrong. Getting worked up about something simple. I'm trying to make this easy for you."
"You're trying to make it easy for yourself. You get all the benefits without having to make any changes. Without even having to open your heart a little."
His gaze narrowed. "You refused marriage." Finally that reasonable tone cracked and exasperation crept in. "This is the perfect compromise, a stepping stone."
She had no response.
"What do you want from me?"
That was the crux of the matter. She looked out her window. She couldn't say "love." It wouldn't be fair to him, when, at least in that regard, he'd been honest. She was like all those other foolish, blind women who'd fallen for him. But what about the possibility of it? "Nothing," she said slowly. "I don't want anything from you."
"This is the obvious solution." He tried again. Reasonable, logical, as though he hadn't heard her. "It could work really well for us all."
She shook her head. "This is so not the obvious solution. I have a business to run and it's based in New Zealand." It was Ivy Cottage that gave her independence. She was thinking, belatedly, of protecting her heart. And for that she needed to be away from this man who was offering her nothing of himself.