No More Lonely Nights

'She left me standing at the altar. Of course I was furious. Who wouldn't be? But I wasn't maddened by love. I felt more like slapping her, to be frank, until her father had the heart attack, and after that I just wanted to find her and get her to the hospital in time.' He gently bit her earlobe.

Sian curled the warm strands of hair around her fingers. 'So it was just your ego that was hurt?' She tried to yank his head back, but it wouldn't budge.

'What do you mean, just my ego? Why do you think the Japanese are so set on never losing face? Nobody likes looking a fool, and there's no joke so funny as the bridegroom left standing at the altar, except, of course, the bride left standing there!'

'That wouldn't be funny!' Sian thought aloud, grimacing.

'There you are, then. Music-hall jokes to most people, but if it's you in that situation the joke isn't so funny, even if you aren't actually in love.' He put a hand under her chin and forced her head back so that she had to look up at him.

Green eyes wide and shimmering with a mixture of happiness and passion, Sian stared back as he searched her face with that intent gaze.

'Sian?' His voice was unsure, husky. 'Will you listen now? I'm in love. How about you?'

'I don't know,' she wailed, afraid to admit that what she felt was anything so serious.

Cass watched her lips; they trembled under his stare and he leaned over to kiss them, softly at first, coaxing a response, experimenting gently, and then with a rapidly mounting excitement and desire that swept them both away. He had both arms around her and pulled her on to his lap; she wound her arms around him and kissed him back urgently, no longer trying to hold back or disguise what she felt. There was a terrible sense of relief as she let go of her defences, giving in with hunger and yearning and a driving sense of need.

Cass groaned her name, his arms tightening around her. He was breathing thickly; she could hear his heart crashing inside his ribs with an almost frightening violence, and her own heart beat far too fast. Her blood was overheating until she was burning up, but they went on kissing, touching each other with hands that shook, both of them oblivious to everything around them.

It was the cry of a bird overhead that made them come out of it. Sian jumped, her eyes opening wide, drowning in passion. Cass looked down at her with a dazed expression, his face dark red and his eyes glittering.

She laid her head against him, breathing roughly. 'I feel as if I've just run a marathon.'

He cradled her on his lap, in his arms, his head on her hair. 'That's odd. So do I. Maybe we did?'

She gave a little gurgle of laughter. 'Where are we? I can't remember.'

'In the garden; hear the birds?'

'That was it—a bird calling, that was what made me wake up.'

'Were you asleep? I don't like the sound of that. When I make love to you I want you wide awake.' He kissed her hair and tried to move his lips down over her face, but she laughed and evaded him.

'Be serious for a moment.'

'I am serious, about you,' he whispered and she believed him then, her heart hurting inside her. 'I love you, Sian. How about you?' he said again, as he had said before he'd kissed her, and this time she didn't say she didn't know, because she did and she was no longer afraid to admit it.

'I love you,' she said huskily and he sighed.

'Darling.' He held her in a happy silence, their bodies close and warm.

Sian listened to the other sounds rising above the quiet rhythms of the garden, above the call of birds, the rustle of leaves, the w

hisper of the grass. People were all over the place out there; she could hear some sort of brass band tuning up, hear someone testing a loudspeaker, hear voices urgently calling one to the other as the last arrangements for the garden party were put into effect.

'We don't have to go out there and get stared at, do we?' She couldn't bear the idea of strangers staring, listening to them talking to each other, guessing at how they felt. It was all so new to her even now; she felt like someone with a delicate globe of crystal in her hands which might smash if it wasn't handled with care.

'We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, darling,' he said, stroking her sleek blonde hair with a tender hand.

'Could we be naughty and escape before the party starts?'

'What about your own dear colleagues? We'll be disappointing them.' He sounded amused and she laughed.

'Won't that be too bad!'

'Your editor will want to tear you limb from limb. Not that I'd let him, of course.' He laughed softly, his hand deftly travelling. 'Such beautiful limbs; no one but me shall touch them.'

Sian looked through her lashes, mocking him. 'It was you who invited the press here and who wanted to distract them from Annette—I don't care what Leo says. He'll get over it! By tomorrow he'll be obsessed with another story. Nothing lasts in our world. Why do you think they call it the news! Because it has to be as hot as new bread, the very latest story. Yesterday's news is history—and we don't print history. Our readers want their gossip up to the minute.' She half closed her eyes as his hand delicately touched her breast. 'That's nice, but not here or now. I don't want to read about this in tomorrow's paper, if you don't mind.'