‘Well, whatever it is, I like it,’ she declared. ‘I could stay here all day, just breathing it in and watching the big ships out there, and the little ones closer in, and…just be.’
‘If we are to stay up here for any length of time,’ he said, ‘then I suggest that we make ourselves comfortable in that hollow I pointed out to you before.’ Once again, he indicated the grassy amphitheatre.
She laid her hand upon the arm he held out to her and they walked the short distance to the hollow.
‘If I remove my coat, we can both sit upon the ground,’ he said and promptly stripped it off, spread it out, sat down upon it, and held out his hand to invite her to join him.
‘Thank you.’ She couldn’t help smiling at him as she took his hand for help to lower herself to the ground, where she arranged her legs as decorously as she could.
For a moment or two, it felt very awkward, sitting side by side, with him in his shirtsleeves.
‘You are right,’ she said, feeling a need to break down the walls she could almost feel him rebuilding round himself, brick by brick, the longer the silence continued. ‘It is more sheltered here. And the view is still stunning.’
He made a sort of grunt, which she took to indicate agreement, since he was gazing fixedly out to sea as though he found the ships and the waves, and the few gulls battling against the invisible currents of air, utterly fascinating.
When for her, the most fascinating thing up here was him. Oh, how she wished she could just lean her head on his shoulder and slide her arm round his waist.
‘The sound of the waves,’ she said in a tone that even to her own ears sounded slightly panicked, ‘sighing against the shore, over and over again, is really…soothing, isn’t it?’
He turned to give her one of his enigmatic looks. She bit down on her lower lip and turned away. It was so galling that he could look at her as though he could see right down into the depths of her soul, somehow, whereas she could never tell what he was thinking. Ever. Even when he’d told her he’d been in earnest about proposing to her, all those years ago, she wasn’t sure if she could believe it.
And coupled with their position, on top of the cliffs, with only the sky above them, and all that expanse of sea below, she felt very small. And insignificant. Just a tiny speck of humanity perched upon the very edge of the vastness of nature.
Which made her want to snuggle up against him even more. For comfort. And reassurance.
So naturally she sat up even straighter.
‘The sound of the waves is very soothing,’ he agreed with what looked like a glint of amusement in his eyes. ‘In fact, it is so soothing, I scarcely know how to keep my eyes open.’ So saying, he shifted round, then startled her by spreading out his legs in one direction and settling his head on her lap. ‘You won’t mind if I take a nap.’ He sighed, closing his eyes.
Goodness.
‘You…you are missing the view.’
‘I have seen it,’ he murmured drowsily. ‘And now I am enjoying the sensation of feeling the breeze caressing my face and the sun beating down on my body, and the softness of your thighs beneath my head…’
‘Stop that! You shouldn’t mention my…’
‘Thighs? Why not? They are very lovely thighs,’ he said, reaching round to run the back of one hand over the curve of her bottom. Sending a surge of warmth and wetness to that place between her legs that seemed to belong to him in a very special way.
She didn’t know what to do. They were outside. In broad daylight. Her mind flew back to his tryst under the hedge with Betsy. She hadn’t felt the slightest bit inhibited by either the daylight or the venue. She’d bared her breasts for him. Hitched up her skirts, too.
She glanced over her shoulder. From where she was sitting she could see the upper windows of their lodging house. Which meant that anyone looking out could see them, too. If they had opera glasses trained in that direction.
What was wrong with her? How could she be thinking of doing…wickedness, out in the open, just because he’d laid his head in her lap and given her bottom a casual caress?
No, she couldn’t possibly…
But perhaps she could just permit herself to run her fingers through his hair. It was something she’d wanted to do for a very long time. And she’d never quite dared to do anything so bold, not even when they’d been in bed together. But perhaps he wouldn’t even notice out here. Now that his hat had blown away, he might think, if she stroked it very gently, that it was the wind ruffling his hair, nothing more.