The Man From her Wayward Past

‘You,’ he said. ‘At last.’

‘What do you mean, me at last?’

‘You, where you belong at last,’ he said.

There were moments in life that were precious and would always be remembered, and this was one of them. This was the first time she had realised they both felt the same—for how long she couldn’t know, since life had whipped them up and put them down in different places. But they were together now. And hungry again, she realised, seeing the smile tugging at the corner of Luke’s mouth.

‘No,’ she said, deciding to tease him as he had teased her.

‘That’s fine by me,’ he said, and laughed deep in his chest when she growled with frustration and threw herself on him.

He lost count of how many times Lucia had wanted him. He had never imagined she would be so passionate, or so insatiable. He would have loved her just the same without that, but it was a bonus.

Love?

Yes. Love. He had always loved Lucia. He just hadn’t realised the extent of that love before, and now it only remained for him to find the right time to tell her how he felt. Now was not that time. Not while they were both basking in the afterglow of mind-blowing sex. He’d choose his time. Lucia meant the world to him, so he had to get it absolutely right.

They came out of the caravan arm in arm to find that it had somehow, mysteriously, moved several yards down the field.

‘How could that have happened?’ Lucia puzzled as she stared at the tracks.

‘I can’t imagine,’ he murmured, tongue in cheek.

She looked at him blankly and then understood. ‘You mean we—?’

‘We’ll have no bad language here,’ he warned, drawing her close.

She laughed. ‘You were right about the caravan not being able to withstand extreme conditions.’

‘Which is why I want you to move into the guest house, where it’s safer. Or there’s always my suite at the Grand …’

How nice would that be? But all the more reason to continue with her plan to succeed on her own merits, Lucia concluded. Then she could book her own suite at the Grand and invite Luke over.

‘Do you think Margaret knows about us?’ Will it change things? she wondered.

Luke’s answer was to pull her into his arms and stare into her eyes as he said, ‘It’s time to start trusting the people who love you, Lucia. You have to let people love you—and to do that you have to let them in.’

‘Now you’ve made me feel selfish,’ she said, seeing the other side of the coin clearly through Luke’s eyes.

‘Well, I’d never say that about you,’ he said, pulling back to give her one of his looks. ‘Awkward. Stubborn. Aggravating.’

‘I get the picture,’ she said.

Linking arms, they continued to chat as they stood outside the newly decorated guest house, and then Luke said, ‘I’ve been telling your brothers how well you’re doing, and that in future they should be calling you for advice.’

‘Oh, great,’ she said with a mock groan, smiling as Luke dragged her back into his arms again. ‘If you think I’m going to take on the duties of agony aunt for a gang of over-sexed polo players … Tell them to write to Holly. She’s the expert.’

But it felt good to know that Luke was acknowledging that the tables had turned, and that none of them would ever think she needed a knight in shining armour to ride to her rescue again. Although some knights were exempt from that rule, Lucia decided, as Luke brushed her lips with his.

‘I’ll e-mail them,’ she murmured, knowing that if she didn’t distract them both they would have to go back to the caravan and move it again.

‘You do have something pretty big to share,’ Luke agreed.

‘Like …?’

‘Like I love you,’ Luke said, smilin

g against her mouth as she softly echoed his words.