'I want you, too.'
CHAPTER TEN
A BUBBLE OF happiness and excitement burst in Aideen's heart and spread little beads of serenity throughout her body.
Beside her, twisted on to his side and facing away from her, Patrick slept, his breathing a slow and steady rhythm. The top sheet rested below his waist, and the beautiful, muscular expanse of his back was only inches away.
In the pre-dawn light she could just about make out the faint scar that ran for a few inches just below his shoulderblade. What had caused it? There was so much she wanted to know about him. So much more to fall in love with. Simple everyday events like him brushing his teeth, the order in which he dressed, shaved.
She moved closer and lowered her head against the hard muscles of his back, inhaling the musky, salty notes of his scent which always made her light-headed with desire.
Last night had been more exhilarating and tender than she'd ever thought possible. They had made love slowly and gently, with an intensity that had had her fearing her heart would split in two. With each kiss and touch she had tried to show him what he meant to her, hoping he would see just how much she loved his strength and dignity, loved his kindness and integrity.
Throughout he had whispered words of endearment to her, his eyes dark with passion...and also with the same amazement and wonder that had had her reeling, too.
And as she fell back to sleep, as she fell into a contented, exhausted pit of happiness, she wished she could stay there, in his bed, at his side, for eternity.
* * *
Two hours later the morning sun bathed the bedroom in a golden light. In their haste they had not got around to pulling the curtains last night.
Lying on her stomach, Aideen was sleeping, her skin still flushed from their lovemaking. He leant forward and touched his mouth against hers. Her lips broke into a smile and her eyes opened, drowsy and lazy with happiness.
She gave him a contented sexy sigh. 'Good morning.'
The huskiness of her voice evoked startling images of their lovemaking last night. Images that left him reeling in disbelief and with the desire to experience it time and time again. He lowered his head and kissed the warm skin of her shoulderblade. A ribbon of pleasure unfurled in him when he inhaled the fresh vanilla and floral scent that seemed innate to her very being.
Against the sweet scent of her skin he whispered, 'Good morning to you, too.'
She edged her hip closer to him as his hand ran over her back. Her eyes met his and they shared a look so intimate it felt as though the world had stopped turning.
Eventually he found his voice. 'Did you enjoy last night?'
She looked at him innocently. 'Best night's sleep I've had in a long time.'
For that, he kissed her hard, and he didn't stop until he heard her whimper with need. When he pulled away she protested, and then nudged even closer to him, the length of her body tucking into his.
A sexy wickedness flashed on her face. 'Okay, I'll admit that it was pretty mind-blowing.'
A deep groan erupted from the core of him. He pressed his mouth against the side of her throat. He ran his hand down over her back, his thumb bumping along her spine so that she wriggled, and she wriggled even more when the entire span of his hand moved down over the firm roundness of her bottom.
'Have I ever told you that you have an incredible body?'
Her giggle echoed off the mattress and her body shimmied beneath his fingers.
'As I recall, you said something to that effect several times last night.'
'Well, you'd better get used to it, because I reckon I'm going to keep you in this bed for a very long time.'
She gave a heavy sigh and smiled. 'That sounds like heaven. Being with you is incredible. I never want it to end.'
His hand stilled and his heart sank. He'd thought this was nothing but banter and teasing. But now her words echoed in his brain. They both knew this was never going to last. Didn't they?
He glanced at her again and the joy in her eyes had turned to disquiet. Her brow drew into a frown. She twisted on to her back, pulling the sheet up around her as she did so.
'What's the matter?'
He collapsed on to his back, too, and stared up to the ceiling. 'You know this has to end... I thought we were agreed on that?'
He felt her yank the sheet a little tighter about her. 'I know. But after last night...'
After last night? Panic and disbelief had him sitting up on the side of the bed.
Without turning to face her, he said, 'I have a conference call in ten minutes. I need to get ready.'
She didn't respond, and he walked rapidly to the en-suite bathroom. He flicked on the shower and immediately stood under the stream of as yet cold water, his mind too agitated to care that his body was protesting.
As the water pounded his scalp he closed his eyes and cursed silently. He felt as though he was drowning in emotions. Drowning in feelings he didn't want to have. Drowning in how mind-blowing last night had been. And not just physically.
Making love to Aideen had been different from anything he had ever experienced. At once he'd wanted to cherish her, protect her, possess her. In the act of lovemaking last night he had wanted their hearts and minds to fuse together as much as he had wanted their bodies to join. He had felt emotionally wrecked after it. As though he had exposed every part of himself to her.
Had he just made the biggest mistake of his life? He had never opened himself up to another person so much. He wasn't sure how to manage the vulnerability of that. And now she was saying she wanted it never to end.
Part of him understood that. God knew it felt so good, so right, to have her by his side. He drew strength from her. From her enthusiasm, from her sense of fun, and also from her quiet compassion.
But he couldn't ever commit to a relationship. Not with its demands and hurts and misunderstandings. Not when he already lost all those he had loved. What if he messed up in years to come and lost her? Just as he'd messed up with Orla? What if he failed her as he'd failed his mum and dad?
He was no good at relationships. In the end he would only hurt her. He didn't even know what to say to her now.
* * *
When she heard the bathroom door close Aideen looked down at her trembling hands and drew in a shaky breath. What had just happened?
She had spoken the truth-that was what had happened. And she had got it all wrong.
After last night she'd thought he might feel the same way. Even this morning, when he had looked at her with such affection, she'd thought there was more to this for him than just a casual affair.
Oh, God, she was so bad at reading men. First Ed. Now Patrick. How could she have got it so wrong?
He had looked horrified when she'd said she wanted it to last for ever. She had said it unconsciously. But it had been the truth.
Humiliation burnt deep in her stomach and her heart pounded in her chest. She needed to get out of here before he returned to the bedroom.
She wrapped the sheet about her and frantically picked her clothes off the bedroom floor. And then she ran down the ornate corridor to her own bedroom.
There, she collapsed on to the bed, her pulse pounding, her entire body trembling. Her skin was burning with embarrassment, but ice was flowing through her veins.
What was she going to do? She had sworn she would never fall for a man again, and here she was in love with a billionaire who was completely out of her league. A man who had run at the first notion of her wanting more from their relationship.
What had she been thinking? Talk about messing up on a spectacular scale.
She needed to get away. The humiliation was too much. She couldn't stay here. She couldn't pretend not to have feelings for him.
She winced at the thought of walking away. It might mean never seeing him again. Was she really ready for that? No. But there was no alternative.
An hour later, after an extra-long shower and generally delaying as long as she could, she walked downstairs. Patrick was nowhere to be seen, so she grabbed a cup of coffee, wrestling once again with the machine, and sat at the island unit, all the while rehearsing what she was going to say to him.
Not long afterwards he arrived in the kitchen, dressed in a slim-fitting navy suit. It showed the contours of his broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped frame to perfection, and for a crazy moment she longed to go to him, to wrap her arms about his waist, lower her forehead to that impregnable masculine strength and the power of his chest. Longed to inhale him. Soap... The sweet, musky tang of his skin...
He had no right to look so gorgeous and calm when she felt so distraught. But his calmness strengthened her conviction that she was going to leave here with her dignity intact.
He glanced at his watch. 'I have another conference call in ten minutes and then some meetings in Paris later. When I get back I think we should speak.'