Summer Kisses

‘Someone could see it.’ He reached down and pulled her gently to her feet. ‘You have to leave, angel.’

‘Now?’ Bemused, she slid her arms around his neck. ‘I—I assumed I’d stay the night.’

‘At least eight islanders drive past my barn on the way to work in the morning. I don’t want them seeing your car.’ He gently unhooked her arms from his neck and retrieved her underwear from the floor. ‘You need to leave, Flora.’

His words made her feel sick and her heart bumped uncomfortably.

‘So—that’s it?’

He slid her arms into her bra and fastened it with as much skill as he’d shown unfastening it. ‘No, of course that’s not it.’ He lowered his head and kissed her swiftly. ‘Are you busy tomorrow night?’

‘No.’

He smiled and winked at her. ‘Then you can cook me dinner. Meet me here at eight o’clock.’ Then he frowned. ‘On second thoughts, your place is probably better. Evanna’s cottage is off the main road.’

She felt a rush of excitement and anticipation but tried to hide it. ‘Why can’t you cook me dinner?’

‘Because I’m rubbish in the kitchen and I’m assuming you’d rather not be poisoned,’ he drawled, sliding her silk knickers up her legs and then giving a tormented groan. ‘Why am I dressing you when all I want to do is undress you?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Why are you?’

‘Because I care about you. I care about your reputation.’

She looked at him curiously. ‘That doesn’t exactly sound like Bad Conner.’

‘You’ve corrupted me,’ he said roughly. And then he took a deep breath, stepped back and lifted his hands. ‘Get out of here. Your coat is downstairs. For goodness’ sake, remember to button it or you’ll give everyone a cheap thrill. Go, quickly, before I change my mind.’

CHAPTER NINE

FLORA tried, she really tried, to keep their relationship secret. She made a point of not gazing at him when they were in public together and she kept their interaction brief and formal. But inside she trembled with insecurity when he didn’t glance at her and she knew why.

No relationship of Conner’s had ever lasted. Why should theirs be any different?

But even knowing that it was probably doomed, she wouldn’t have changed anything. And if she spent her days racked with doubt as to his feelings, when night came she was left in no doubt at all.

Every evening he arrived at her cottage and spent time with her until the early hours. They ate, talked and made love, but he never stayed the whole night and Flora didn’t know whether she felt frustrated by that or grateful.

On the one hand she was slightly relieved not to be the subject of local gossip, but on the other hand she was greedy for time with him. She loved the fact that he talked to her and sensed that he said things to her that he’d never said to anyone else.

Occasionally the conversation turned to the topic of his father. ‘It’s hardly any wonder you virtually lived wild,’ she murmured one night as she lay with her head on his shoulder. ‘I don’t suppose there was much to go home to.’

‘It wasn’t exactly a laugh a minute.’ He stroked a hand over her hair. ‘After my mother left, he was pretty much drunk from the moment he woke up in the morning to the moment he keeled over at night. I stayed out of his way. Half the time I didn’t even go home. I slept on the beach or borrowed the MacDonalds’ barn. That was fine until the night I lit a fire to keep warm and the wind changed.’

Flora’s heart twisted. ‘I guessed things were bad. I went up there once, to look for you. And he yelled at me so violently that my legs shook for days.’

His arms tightened around her. ‘Why were you looking for me?’

‘After your mother left, I was worried about you. And I thought I understood what you were going through. How arrogant was that?’ She sighed and kissed him gently. ‘I suppose because I’d lost my mother, too, I thought I might be able to help you. But of course our situations were entirely different because I still had my dad.’

‘I didn’t want to be helped. I just wanted to be angry.’

‘I don’t blame you for being angry.’ She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. ‘Was it the army that stopped you being angry?’

‘They taught me to channel my aggression. Running thirty miles with a pack on your back pretty much wipes it out of you.’

‘So they helped you?’

‘Yes, I suppose they did.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘You’re such a gentle person, I don’t suppose you’ve ever been angry.’