CORAL - Fallen (A Romance Trilogy, Book 2) (2 page)

He kisses me back, gently, softly. But it’s
enough to make my head swim, I feel so lightheaded. I stop kissing him, my lips
going limp against his.

“You ok?” He asks, I open my eyes and the
room swims and sways –
Why do I feel faint?

“I feel faint,” I whisper. In the next
breathe I am up and into his arms. I wrap my arm around his neck, cradle my
head under his chin and inhale deeply.

“That’s because you haven’t eaten much,” he
scolds as he carries me into the kitchen.

“No,” I shake my head, keeping my eyes
closed. “It’s you, you take my breath away.”

“Dito.” He whispers. Tristan sits me down
on the breakfast bar, his arms gripping me tightly. “Open your eyes baby.” I do
as he asks, but this time I feel more stable, the world has stopped spinning.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” I whisper again.

Tristan smiles at me. “I’m not.” He
replies.

I frown up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sorry I pushed. It made you leave,
and that in turn has made me realise a few things,” he says.

“Like what?” I whisper.

He shakes his head at me. “Later.” I pout
at him, he laughs at me then his serious face is back. “Maybe you shouldn’t
have wine if you’re feeling faint; you should have some food instead.”

“No,” I bark.

He smirks at me. “How about some orange
juice?” I raise an eyebrow at him sardonically. “Ok, wine,” he says, smiling
and shaking his head at me.

Tristan pours us both a glass of wine, and places
them next to me on the breakfast bar. Then he picks up the other beanbag, walks
out onto the patio and makes a makeshift lounger with the one I’d left out
there. Then, he comes back to me with his arms open. I go to take his hands to
stand, but he simply shakes his head and lifts me up into his arms.

I roll my eyes at him. “I can walk you
know,” I say dryly.

He smiles wryly at me. “
Humour
me.” He walks outside and places me down on the beanbags, then he
heads back inside and returns with our wine.

Placing them down on the floor next to the
beanbags, he sits behind me, his back against the sliding door his legs
stretched either side of me, and pulls me gently against his chest.

“This ok?” he softly asks.

“Yes,” I whisper. Handing a glass to me, he
then picks up his glass and wraps his free arm around my waist. I feel
contented, that warm glow flows through me from the dream again.

“This is nice,” he whispers and takes a sip
of wine.

“Yeah it is.” I agree. I really, really
hope Tristan meant what he said; that he won’t ask me about what happened
earlier – because right now, I feel on top of the world.
What a difference
to how I felt just a short while ago?

WE SIT IN COMFORTABLE SILENCE
, both brooding I think, but the setting sun is a welcome
distraction. I quietly sip my wine and try to keep my mind clear of all
thoughts, good and bad. I watch the sky change from scorching oranges and
blazing yellow, to a darker ominous mix of deep pinks, and aquamarines.

I decide the silence has become too
deafening, so I rack my brains for something to say, other than the obvious. “Did
you have a good week?” I ask.

“A good week?” He questions.

“Yes, when you left on Wednesday. Was it a
productive week work wise?” Tristan chuckles, kisses my temple, and thankfully
starts telling me about what he’s been doing for the few days we’ve been apart…

THE SUN HAS SET ON OUR PERFECT
little piece of heaven and the stars are out in full force. I
shiver slightly, a cool breeze has picked up, so of course, my over-sensitive
body has developed goose bumps all over.

“Cold?” Tristan asks, running his hand up
and down my arm trying to generate some heat.

“A little,” I answer.

“Want to go in? We could put the fire on?” He
suggests.

“Won’t you get too hot?” Tristan already
feels toasty against me.

“I don’t care. Whatever you want beautiful,
it is yours.” He says in that sexy, low voice.

“Ok I’m convinced, a fire would be nice.” He
stands, takes my hands and gently pulls me to my feet. “May I?” he asks, his
arms open wide.

“Tristan, I’m fine now,” I say trying to
placate him.

“Coral’ – “Tristan, I’m not feeling faint
anymore, so you don’t need to carry me into the house, ok?” His lips set into a
hard line. I roll my eyes at him. “I need a bathroom break. Why don’t you take
the bean-bags in and get the fire going?” I suggest.

“Fine!” He huffs, then picks up the bags
and heads inside. I smile internally at his over protective ways. I collect our
empty glasses, place them on the breakfast bar and head off to the downstairs bathroom.
When I return I notice he has the fire going, its orange glow filling the room,
creating a warm, romantic atmosphere.

“Mmm that’s nice,” I say huddling in front
of it, warming up my arms.

“Would you like a jumper?”

“No, I’m ok thanks.” Tristan comes and
stands behind me, places his hands on my arms and gently rubs up and down.

“You feel cold.” I close my eyes to the
feeling. His skin against mine does strange things to me. It heats my blood,
and sets my heart racing. I don’t understand it?

“I’ll be fine,” I breathe.

“Want a drink?” he asks. “I have a really
nice Cognac?” he adds. The same kind of brandy George gave me?
I’m in!

“Yes please.” I smile up at him and there
it is; that feeling – The room is so dark, except for the orange glow from the
fire, but I can't drag my gaze away from his. He smiles nervously at me then
loses the grin. “Thank you for coming back, for trusting me.”

I swallow hard. Is this just lust? Or do
people really fall in love and feel like this about each other? I can feel it
surrounding us, a strange bubble, like a bright white light, making me feel
safe, turned on, dizzy with wanting, longing. Whatever it is, it’s strong,
really strong. Almost tangible, like I could reach out and touch it. Tristan
moves closer, his lips parting slightly and kisses me softly on the lips, then
runs a cool, soft finger down my cheek.

“You are so beautiful.” I swear to god if
he keeps saying that he’s going to have me convinced that I am. I slowly exhale
at his touch. It sears me, weakens me and at the same time, it makes me mad;
because I don’t want to fall in love, but I think it may already be too late.

“Shall we have some music?” I can't find my
voice so I nod my head. “I won’t be a moment,” he softly adds. Tristan returns
with his MP3 Player and his portable speakers. “Why don’t you find something,”
he says handing them to me.

“Ok.” I smile shyly at him –
Why am I
feeling shy again? –
Shaking my head at myself, I switch on the player and
plug in the speakers. When it fires up, I notice it’s a Cowon, the same as mine.
It’s freaky how many things we have that are the same. I start scrolling
through his list of albums and I’m gob-smacked – again! Tristan returns and
sits on one of the beanbags, placing the Brandy’s in front of the fire.

“This is freaky,” I tell him, still
scrolling through the albums.

“What is?” he asks.

“We have so many of the same albums,” I answer.

“We do?” he says in surprise.

“Yeah it’s weird. What do you fancy?” I
ask.

“There’s a new album I put on yesterday, I
made my own mix of songs.” He smiles enigmatically at me. I pass him the player
so he can find it.

“What?” I grin back.

“They all remind me of you,” he tells me
and presses play. Gabrielle Aplin’s soft voice fills the room with The Power Of
Love – I feel all the blood drain out of my face. It’s such a haunting, heavy
track. Tristan picks up the Brandy’s offering one to me. I shake my head at him
I don’t want mine yet. He nods once and sits back on the beanbag, sipping his
drink.

I stay sat, several feet away from Tristan,
in the safe zone.

My backside hurts sitting on the cold,
porcelain floor, but the fire is a welcome relief, warming my arms, my body. As
I listen to the song, I feel myself getting overwhelmed – she sings this song
so well. I turn and gaze at Tristan he’s watching me carefully, slowly sipping
his Brandy. I turn away and stare at the fire, watching the flames lick and
bite each other, battling for the biggest flame.

I close my eyes, letting the song wash over
me.
Is this what Tristan is to me?
Is he going to cleanse my dark soul? He’s
made it pretty clear what he feels for me. He wants to love me, protect me, be
my hero, that much is obvious.

Love is an energy Gabrielle sings –
Yes,
it is, one I don’t know, or understand, not like this.

I wrap my arms around my legs and continue
to stare at the fire. The song ends, and it’s quickly followed by James
Morrison’s You Make it Real. It’s a little more upbeat thank heavens; and my
favourite
song of his. I turn and smile at Tristan.

“You like?” he asks. I take a deep breath
and crawl across the floor. He seems nervous as I approach him, but as I do, I
slowly lean forward and kiss him, being careful not to get too carried away.
“My
favourite
.” I whisper against his lips.

“Mine too.” He murmurs, then kisses me back,
his tongue slowly lapping against mine. I feel myself getting tearful and
overwhelmed by the moment – again!
What is wrong with me?

“Oh baby…” Tristan pulls me into his lap
and wraps his arms around me.

“Sorry…” I choke. “I just can’t get
over...” I stop myself and take a deep breath.

“I know,” he says, softly stroking my back.
“This already feels very heavy and deep…permanent. Kind of took us both by
surprise.”

“Yeah…” I croak a little laugh escaping.

Tristan leans forward, picks up my glass, and
hands it to me. “To us,” He says.

“To us,” I breathe and we click glasses. I
lay against Tristan chest again, enjoying the songs, and the sound of his heart
beating in my ear.

“Coral, I have something for you.” He says,
his voice sounding nervous.

I turn my head and gaze up at him. “For
me?” I squeak.

“Yes,” he breathes. “I was going to give you
this earlier…” He breaks off momentarily, a flash of pain crosses his face. It
makes me cringe inwardly, knowing I put it there. He reaches down beside him,
and picks up an A5 sized
jewellery
box. It’s dark blue,
brushed velvet, and it’s got a big red bow on it…

I SIT UP FROM MY SLUMPED POSITION
, my mouth gaping open, my heart slamming against my chest –
Shit!
He’s bought me a present!
– I hate presents. Gladys and Debs have always
been awful at Christmas. Buying me things I either don’t want or need, and the
impossible moments that have to follow of saying thank you and smiling as
though you like it are cringe-worthy.

“Here,” Tristan gestures for me to take it.

I look up at his warm eyes not really
knowing what to do. Tristan gently takes hold of my hand and places the box in
it. I can see the apprehension in his face, I feel myself tighten up with
anxiety –
What if I don’t like it?

“Open it,” he orders his eyes crinkling
sweetly at the corners. Tentatively, I pull on the satin ribbon that’s been
tied into a bow, and lift the lid.
Wow!

I am both surprised and elated. Inside is a
bracelet, a very old antique looking bracelet. As I look closer, I see that it
has dragons engraved into it. There are four segments, each with a dragon, and
a Chinese symbol hanging down as a charm. It’s quite chunky and is almost a gun
metal grey, just the kind of thing I like – I look up at Tristan in astonishment.

“How did you?’ – “You have several dragon
ornaments in your bedroom. I saw this and thought you might like it,” he softly
says.

I shake my head in wonder and smile at him.
This is the first piece of jewellery I have been given that I will actually
wear – Gladys gave up years ago, after noticing I wouldn’t wear what she bought
me.

“It’s antique. A miracle dragon bracelet,
they’re quite rare,” he tells me.

I’m awestruck. Not only did he get the
dragon part right, but I have a thing for antique
jewellery. T
he stuff you see in most of the
jewellers
just seems same-o, same-o, to me. Antiques are just well...different. I peer
down at the bracelet, I’m nervous to touch it, it looks so delicate.

“Here baby.” Tristan takes it out of the
box, and carefully clips it around my right wrist, it’s a perfect fit.

“Tristan…I don’t know what to say…thank you,”
I choke.

“Do you like it?” He questions.

“Yes,” I gush, smiling down at it. “Thank
you,” I say again.

He lifts my chin to look at him. “You’re
very welcome, I’m really glad you like it,” he says smiling broadly.

“Oh I do…” I gush, then lean forward and
softly kiss him.

He chuckles against my lips. “You really
like it?” he says a little smugly.

“Yes I do. How did you know I’d like an
antique?” I ask feeling a little dazed by it all.

“You don’t wear any jewellery, and you’re
anything but traditional Coral. So I took a chance,” he says wrapping his arms
around my waist again.

“I love it,” I tell him gazing at it again.
It’s not to everyone’s taste, but it’s just so different. “What does the symbol
mean?” I ask in wonder.

Tristan chuckles and kisses me again. “You’re
going to love this part,” he says tucking my hair behind my ear.

“I am?” I say feeling giddy with
excitement.

“Yes.” He smiles his deep, wide grinned
sexy smile at me.

“Tell me,” I squeak. He reaches up and
gently strokes my cheek.

“Karma” he whispers. I lose the grin, and
swallow hard.
How can he get so much right with one piece of jewellery?

“I...” I swallow again. “Is that just luck
or..?”

Tristan shakes his head. “No. I liked the
dragons and I thought you would too, but when I was told the symbol meant
Karma, I knew it was meant for you.”

“That’s just, wow...thank you,” I gush
again feeling tears prick the corners of my eyes.

“Hey now, there’s no need for that,” he
says, brushing the fallen tears away. I reach up, lean my forehead against his
and close my eyes – I still don’t get what I’ve done to deserve him.

“You’re a wonderful man Tristan Freeman,” I breathe. He
reaches up, puts his hands either side of my face and pulls my head up. I open
my eyes and gaze back at him.

“And you’re a beautiful, challenging woman,” he says. I
smile, he smiles in return. I kiss him once more then lie back against him,
staring down at my new bracelet.
“I really like the quilt
cover you picked,” he tells me, pulling me from my musing.

“Yeah?” Tristan seems to like neutral
colours – like me. So I picked mocha; it goes with the rest of the room.

“You must let me pay you back,” he tells
me. I turn and look up at him.

“I thought you said you wanted this to be
‘our’ place?” I question.

“Well...yeah I did, but’ - “No buts
Tristan, you have to let me contribute,” I tell him sternly.

“No!” he barks, I frown at him. “Coral, you
have a mortgage and bills of your own to pay. Please don’t get buying anything
else for this place, it all comes out of my pocket. Understand?” Tristan is
mad, his eyes have narrowed, and the way he’s looking at me tells me there’s no
argument to be had.

“Fine!” I huff.
How ridiculous, I can’t
even buy anything for the house!

“Which reminds me,” he says getting up and
walking over to his suit jacket that’s hanging on one of the breakfast stools.
I watch him pull out his wallet and walk back to me. Sitting down, he opens it
up and pulls out a card. “Here, this is for you.”

I cock one eyebrow up at him. “Why are you
trying to give me one of your cards?”

“It’s not mine,” he tells me opening my
hand and placing the card in it. I look down and see my name printed on it –
What
the fuck?

“Um...why...Tristan what’s going on? I
don’t understand?” I say, scowling at him.

“Anything you want just put it on that
card, it’s a joint account,” he tells me artlessly.

“A what?” I gasp in shock. I can’t believe
he’s done that! I wouldn’t do that! Not from only knowing someone a few days,
but then I do have trust issues. “Are you crazy?” I shriek. “You don’t know me,
yet you give me this card?” I shake my head at him, I can’t believe....

“Coral, you want to buy something,
anything...some clothes, pay a bill or maybe you’re out and you see something
you like for this place, just use the card. Ok?” I feel like I’ve been given
the keys to the bank. “I trust you,” he tells me pulling my chin up, his eyes
boring into mine.

“I still think you’re crazy,” I say half
choking on my own words.

Tristan chuckles at me. “I think I’m a
pretty good judge of character, I don’t see you running off with my millions,”
he says.

I roll my eyes at him. “Have you ever done
this before?”

“No, well…apart from my folks,” he answers,
his voice soft with warm memories. “Want to see a picture of them?” he asks,
his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Of course,” I say, wondering if it’s going
to upset him to do this. Tristan opens his wallet, pulls out a faded photograph
and hands it to me.

It’s a small, square, black and white
photograph -
God knows how old it is!

I handle it carefully, and stare at the young
couple smiling back at me with their arms wrapped around one another. Tristan
looks just like his very handsome Grandfather, and his Granny is very pretty.
Her hair is curled and pinned back, just as they all used to wear it back then,
and she’s smiling. Her eyes look bright, they look so happy.

He hands me another. Tristan is in the
photograph with them, he’s in the middle with his arms wrapped around each of
them. They are all smiling, they all look so happy. He looks younger though, maybe
in his teens?

“When was this taken?” I ask softly.

“It was my 21
^st
.” He tells me,
his eyes darkening. “I wish I’d have met you while they were still alive,
they’d have loved you so much. I know they would,” he says his voice breaking
as he does. Making my heart ache for him, I wish I could take his pain away.

“Tristan,” I whisper putting my arm around
his back and resting my head on his shoulder. I sit staring at the photos, when
suddenly inspiration hits. “Can I borrow these?” I ask. Tristan frowns at my
request. He doesn’t seem to want to let them go, which is understandable. “Not
now,” I add handing them back.

“Sure,” he says and places them back in his
wallet.

“You look like your Grandfather,” I tell
him cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. “And your Grandmother was so
pretty, I can see why your Grandfather fell for her,” I add. Tristan smiles but
it doesn’t reach his eyes. I feel nervous again, so I take a sip of my brandy.

It warms and burns me, as it slowly makes
it way to my stomach. I’m starting to feel a little drunk, my head is slightly
spinning -
This is strong stuff.

I gaze at Tristan who is staring blankly
ahead at the fire, no doubt thinking about his folks. I try to understand what
that would have felt like, to lose your parents at such a young age, even more
so, to lose parents that loved and cherished you, took care of you.

I want to take his pain away, to make him
feel better. I move carefully and slide over him, so I’m straddling him. He
looks up at me in confusion. “Coral, what are you’ - “I’m sorry,” I whisper,
placing my hands on his cheeks I kiss him gently. “It’s not fair,” I add. Tristan
doesn’t say anything, he just gazes up at me. “I’m guessing you miss them, so
much,” I add.

“Yes, I do,” he sighs, so I kiss him again,
trying to take away his pain, but a flame ignites within me. I want to take
this further, so I don’t stop. I kiss him more passionately forcing his lips
apart, finding his tongue as a slight moan escapes me.

Tristan seems very hesitant, then finally I
hear a deep groan of longing reverberate from deep within him, his lips press
harder against mine, and his breathing picks up. He wraps his arms around me
and crushes me hard against him, sending shivers all over my body.

We roll onto the floor, Tristan on top of
me, the length of his body stretched out on top of mine. I feel his erection
hard and heavy against my belly, only this time, I don’t freak out…
oh I want
him…so badly
.

I force my hands into his hair pulling his
lips harder against mine, then I wrap my legs around him, using my heels to
push his backside, his erection deeper into me. I want to feel him inside me.

Tristan suddenly freezes. “Stop!” He shouts,
staring down at me with dark eyes. He sits up pulling me with him so I’m straddling
him again. We stare at each other, almost nose to nose, both panting heavily.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I just....” He
runs a hand through his hair then gazes at me for a moment. Without a word, he
strokes my cheek, his face looks torn, like he doesn’t know what to say or do.

“What is it?” I ask placing my hand against
his as it rests on my cheek.

“You freaked out earlier then you left me,”
he says darkly. “I don't know why, I just don’t want you to feel like you have
to do anything you’re not ready to do’ – I place my finger against his lips to
silence him.

“I was ready then,” I tell him but he still
looks concerned.

“I can't take that chance,” he says shaking
his head.

“Take what chance?” I squeak.

“You leaving me again,” he breathes.

“But’ – “Coral, I’m not going to do
anything until you’re ready to tell me.” He says his voice firm, his dark
chocolate eyes seeing straight through me.

I sigh heavily. “You’re not going to let
this go, are you?” Tristan shakes his head at me.
Great!
So, he’s not
going to have sex with me unless I tell him why I freaked out earlier? I shake
my head in annoyance. I don’t want to tell him, but I want him and I want it to
stop. I want to stop freaking out about it.

“You’re not going to like it,” I tremble,
pulling my gaze away from his.

“I want to know,” he tells me softly. “You
can tell me anything baby.”

“You’re going to regret you said that,” I
choke out nervously.

“Am I?” he says, gripping my face in his
hands so I have to look at him. His face is contorted as though he’s in pain.
“Tell me,” he orders.

And just like that all my defenses fall
down and I blurt it out. “I was raped,” I whisper.

Tristan’s eyes narrow for a moment then
widen with shock. In a flash, he is up on his feet glaring down at me. His jaw
is set, his teeth grinding together, and his hands are clenched into fists; the
tendons and veins in his forearms sticking up in response. His breathing is
heavy, eyes dilated, almost black. He looks really, really, angry –
Shit!

I can’t let this come between us – I can't
lose him because of this.

“Tristan,” I beg holding my hand out to
him. “Please don’t let this change how you feel about me, I’m begging you.” He
silently holds up his forefinger in response, I stop talking.