IT WAS GOING to be a beautiful day, Frankie thought, gazing out of the car window.
In London, she never really noticed the weather, except in terms of whether she could legitimately take a taxi. In fact, she was pretty sure she’d never even listened to a weather forecast.
But up here in Northumberland she found it mesmerising. It was like watching a magic show. One moment the sky was conjuring up flocks of grey clouds, like sheep, the next streaks of sunlight that pierced the grey like shimmering, iridescent ribbons.
Right now, the clouds were growing wispier by the minute, while on either side of the causeway the waves jostled one another half-heartedly before turning to foam.
Her pulse shivered. It was hard to believe this was th
e same sea that had almost swept her off the causeway. Hard, too, to believe that she was going home.
Taking a breath, she glanced furtively to where Arlo sat beside her, his large, powerful hands resting with deceptive languor on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the cobbled road.
She felt her body tense. Was he thinking the same thing? Or was he just counting down the minutes until they reached the train station?
Her heartbeat accelerated as she remembered the moment last night when he had leaned forward and kissed her. She’d told herself that their first kiss had been a one-off and that Arlo wasn’t her type.
But everything she’d told herself had been wrong.
Everything she’d known about sex had been wrong too.
She’d only done it twice before. Both with her ex, Aidan. The first time had been just awkward, and a little uncomfortable. The second had been better in terms of comfort, but afterwards she had wondered what all the fuss was about.
Now she knew.
Last night with Arlo had been a revelation. He had been a revelation.
As his lips had fused with hers it had been like flint striking rock. Everything inside her had been flame and heat. His body had felt so solid, so strong, and as she’d pressed against him, she’d had the sudden intense feeling that she wanted to stay in his arms for ever...
She pressed her hands together in her lap.
It wasn’t just intense—it was crazy.
And yet it had been so tempting...
To take it a step further.
To go with him upstairs and do it again, and again, and again...
But something had held her back—some sixth sense that had told her if she went further, she would soon be out of her depth. She’d already gone further than she probably should have.
Arlo obviously felt the same way.
He parked and had her suitcase out of the boot before she’d even taken off her seat belt. Clearly, he couldn’t wait to get rid of her, she thought as she struggled to keep up with his pavement-eating stride.
‘All right, Mr Milburn. I thought you only just got back. Where you going this time, then?’
‘I’m not going anywhere, Alan.’ Arlo’s face uncreased fractionally as he shook hands with the uniformed station attendant. ‘I’m just dropping Ms Fox off. Okay if I see her onto the train?’
‘That’s really not—’ she began.
But Arlo was already walking swiftly along the platform, her now-battered suitcase clamped under his arm. Trailing behind, she followed him into a carriage, heart thumping as she watched him push her case into the overhead luggage rack.
‘Okay, then.’ His eyes were as expressionless as his voice. ‘Have a good trip.’
Her heart lurched. Was that it?
But before she even had a chance to open her mouth he turned and walked away, the hem of his coat curling around his legs like the tail of a panther.