First Time in Forever (Puffin Island 1)

That thought stayed in her head as they arrived at the hospital and it was still in her head as Kayla walked into Jackson’s arms.

She saw Kayla reach out her hand and curl her fingers into Jackson’s. Saw her friend rise up on the balls of her feet and brush her lips over his in a kiss that somehow managed to be both discreet and intimate. In that moment she’d ceased to exist for either of them. Their emotions were definitely engaged.

Witnessing it robbed her of breath.

She felt a pang and looked away quickly.

She didn’t want that.

“I will go and see Walter and drop off this food while you two catch up. Give me the keys, Kayla.” She held out her hand. “You can go home with Jackson later. I will try to persuade Alice to come back with me now.”

She didn’t succeed. Walter looked pale and fragile and when she eventually left the room it was with the image of Alice, his wife of sixty years, sitting by his side with her hand on his, her knitting abandoned in her lap as if by holding hands they might prevent their life together from unraveling.

All Alice had talked about was Sean. Her belief in her grandson’s ability to perform miracles was as touching as it was worrying.

Élise was on her way out of the hospital when she saw him.

He walked with confidence and authority, comfortable in the sterile atmosphere of the high-tech medical facility. The well-cut suit and pristine white shirt couldn’t conceal the width of his shoulders or the leashed power of his body, and her heart gave a little dance in her chest.

Despite the air-conditioning, her skin heated.

It had been just one night, but it wasn’t a night she was likely to forget and she doubted he would, either.

Like her, Sean had no interest in forming deep romantic relationships. His job demanded control and emotional detachment. The fact that he applied the same rules to his personal life had made everything simple.

She walked briskly across the foyer toward him, determined to prove to herself and anyone who happened to be watching that this meeting wasn’t awkward. “Sean—” she rose on tiptoe, placed her hand on his shoulder and kissed him on both cheeks. “Ça va? I’m so sorry about Walter. You must be out of your mind worried.”

It was fine. Not awkward at all. Maybe her English wasn’t as fluent as usual, but that sometimes happened when she was tired or stressed.

As her cheek brushed against the roughness of his jaw she was almost knocked flat by a rush of sexual chemistry. Rocked off-balance, she tightened her fingers on his shoulder, feeling the thickness of muscle through the fabric of his suit. If she moved slightly to the left she’d be kissing his mouth and it shocked her just how much she wanted to do that.

Sean’s head turned slightly. His gaze met hers and for a moment she was mesmerized.

His eyes were the same startling blue as his twin brother’s but she’d never felt anything this dangerously potent when dealing with Jackson. Some people might have waxed lyrical about blue skies or sapphires but for her those eyes were all about sex. For a moment she forgot the people around them, forgot everything except the sexual energy and memories of that one night. She hadn’t closed her eyes and neither had he. Through the whole breath-stealing madness of it, they’d held that connection and it was all she could think of as she lowered her heels to the floor and stepped back.

Her heart was racing. Her mouth was dry. It took all her willpower to let go of his shoulder. “How was your journey?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Have you eaten? I brought food. Alice has the bag.”

“I don’t suppose that bag contains a good Pinot Noir?”

It was a typically Sean response.

Even in a crisis he projected calm. It washed over her, as welcoming as cool air in a heat wave and for the first time since that awful moment when Walter had collapsed at her feet she felt her mood lift slightly. It was as if someone had taken off some of the weight she’d been carrying.

“No Pinot Noir. But there is homemade lemonade.”

“Oh, well, a guy can’t have everything. If you made it, I’m sure it’s good.” He loosened his tie with long, strong fingers, cool and composed, and she wondered if he remembered it had been Pinot Noir they’d drunk that night. “Where is the rest of my family?”

“They’re with your grandfather.”

“How is he?” His voice was gruff, those thick dark lashes failing to conceal the concern in his eyes. “Any change?”

“He looks frail. I hope the doctors know what they’re doing.”

“It’s a good hospital. And how are you?” He caught her chin in his fingers and turned her face to him. “You look like hell.”