Sealed With a Kiss (16 page)

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Authors: Rachael Lucas

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BOOK: Sealed With a Kiss
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Ted gave her a gentle poke in the ribs. ‘Come on, you, it’s not that bad. We did our stint living down south, remember.’

‘Oh, I know.’ Kate felt a sudden pang for Cambridge, the familiar cobbled streets and the shops, and the heaps of bicycles stacked against every railing. She sipped her wine, musing.
‘It’s just:
everything
here is so different.’

Georgia rolled her eyes. ‘It’s that fish-out-of-water thing, isn’t it? You’re always slightly on your guard, never quite getting a handle on the island customs. Depends
on how long you’re staying, but it does get easier.’

Half-listening to Ted, Kate sat, deep in thought. She’d vowed she’d stay at least six months. With Roderick gone, that seemed feasible. But he was so changeable, and she had no idea
what the atmosphere would be like when – or if – he returned. He might decide to stay down there.

‘It’s worse for me, Kate.’ She shook herself out of her reverie, hearing her name. Georgia was leaning over, topping up her wine glass. ‘I’m the head teacher of the
secondary school, so I’m always on my best behaviour. The only chance I have to misbehave is when I’m out here in the sticks.’

‘Well, here’s to being naughty when nobody’s looking,’ said Kate, clinking her glass against Georgia’s.

Finn raised his eyebrows at the two women, but said nothing.

‘Oh yes? This night’s getting interesting already.’ Ted pulled out a chair at the huge mahogany table. It was set beautifully with old silver tableware mixed with bone china,
and with a huge, low floral centrepiece, created by Helen.

It was amazing, Kate thought later, as she ricocheted gently against the doorframe on the way to the loo, how easy everyone was to talk to after some wine. Maybe it was having a bit of English
moral support in Georgia, or being in a smaller gathering, but she felt this time she wasn’t sitting on the sidelines, but was a real member of the group. The contrast between this and her
memory of sitting awkwardly at the table on the night of the fireworks was huge. The only awkward part was the fact that every time she looked at Finn she was overwhelmed by an urge to rip off all
his clothes in a most un-Katelike manner.

Texting from the loo . . . Have had wine, and am thinking I might be a Bad Girl tonight. Just, you know, as a sort of scientific
experiment?

They’d made their way through to the sitting room, where a fire was lit and two huge white sofas faced each other. Ted had already collapsed into one and was snoring gently.

‘Every bloody time,’ sighed Morag, tucking a crocheted blanket around him and pulling off his shoes. ‘That’ll be him for the night. I apologize in advance for the
snores.’

The door slammed. Susan and Tom had sloped off home to take advantage of a child-free evening. Helen was curled up on the sofa next to Finn, chatting to Georgia about funding for the arts on the
island. The other men had disappeared outside to look at a new greenhouse.

Kate sat down on the only remaining patch of sofa, which was unexpectedly low. She landed perilously close to Finn, her thigh touching his.

‘Hello.’

Oh, he could read the ingredients on a cereal packet and make it sound filthy.

‘D’you want a bit more wine?’ he asked, stretching forward for the bottle, shirt riding up to reveal a smooth, tanned back.

‘Actually, no.’ She was tempted to reach up inside the shirt. ‘I think maybe I should go. I need to let Willow out.’ She started to haul herself out of the depths of the
sofa.

He stood up. ‘I’ll take you home.’

Kate climbed out of the couch and tugged at the hem of her dress, which had ridden up to show rather too much thigh.

‘Thanks, Morag.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll see you in a bit.’

‘I’ll leave the door unlocked then.’

Kate looked at him, eyebrows raised.

‘I’m staying with Morag tonight – there’s no way I’ll get a taxi at this time. They never come out here to the estate, if they can help it.’

As they stepped out into the cold, he reached for her hand.

‘I don’t want you falling over, now.’

His fingers laced in between hers, and she felt the edge of his thumb gently rubbing her palm. But he said nothing. They walked in silence.

They arrived at the cottage. Kate untangled her fingers, turned to face him and stood, hand on the door.

‘Would you like some coffee?’

She sounded ridiculous. She wasn’t very good at this.

‘I thought a sophisticated town girl like you would have better lines than that,’ said Finn, his mouth curling into a smile.

‘I’m not in the habit of this sort of thing,’ replied Kate. ‘But I keep telling myself: you only live once. And I’m not looking for anything serious, because
I’m not interested in a relationship.’

‘Just as well.’ He raised an eyebrow.

‘Okay.’ Kate gave a small smile, looking up at him. He was awfully like a young Ewan McGregor, and the wine had given her courage and . . .

He reached across, moving a strand of hair from her lips, tucking it behind her ear with a practised gesture. ‘Are you flirting with me?’

‘I don’t know. Am I?’

‘I’d say so.’ Finn took the keys from her hand and opened the door.

She let Willow out, watching silently from the front door as the puppy galloped around the garden, barking with excitement.

‘I’ll put the kettle on then, shall I?’ Finn called from the kitchen. ‘For coffee?’

Willow bounded back up, holding a rubber chew. She hurtled into the kitchen. Kate closed the door and stood in the darkened hall, heart pounding, wondering what she was doing. Being human, she
decided. Doing what everyone else had been doing while she was slowly dying of boredom for the last five years.

Finn emerged from the sitting room. ‘I’ve lit the fire. And your coffee is waiting.’ He walked forward into the dark hall. ‘I can leave, if you want,’ he said
gently.

Now or never, Kate thought.

‘I don’t want.’ She dropped the keys on the table. He was standing right in front of her. She reached up with one hand, feeling the stubble on his cheek.

He leaned down. With his mouth millimetres away from hers, he spoke.

‘Kate.’

She could feel his breath on her face.

‘Yes?’

Finn’s mouth curled into a smile. ‘Are you flirting with me again?’

Her hands were on his hips, catching at the belt hooks, pulling him towards her, reaching into his shirt, pulling it free from his jeans.

He pulled back, breathing fast. His expression was teasing. ‘I think you might be, you know.’

As he reached behind her head, the remaining clips gave way as he tangled his fingers in her hair, tipping her head back gently. He bent, kissing either side of her mouth – two
unexpectedly gentle kisses, which left her with goosebumps.

‘Come with me.’ He took her hand, pulling her through the darkened hall and into the room. As he passed the kitchen, he pulled the door closed on Willow, winking at Kate as he did
so. ‘Now sit here.’ He pulled her down onto the couch.

Somehow she was unfastening his shirt buttons, her eyes not moving from his, running her finger along the smooth line of hair that led down from his navel.

‘You are definitely flirting.’ His voice sounded breathy.

Kate felt rather pleased with herself. ‘I am, aren’t I?’

He ran his finger along her jawline, reminding her of Bonfire Night and Roderick. She took a sharp intake of breath. ‘I can’t do this.’

‘You can’t?’ Finn looked at her levelly, smoothing back her hair, running his hand gently down her back.

‘I shouldn’t.’

‘Ah. That’s not quite the same as “can’t”.’

True. Kate thought again of her five years of being sensible, and of being unceremoniously dumped by Roderick before anything had even happened. In the flickering light of the fire she took in
Finn’s laughing eyes, the ruffled sandy hair, the rueful smile.

‘No.’ She leaned forward, unfastening the final button of his shirt. ‘I suppose it isn’t, is it?’

He laughed, and pulled her into his arms.

Kate’s head was thumping. Willow was barking furiously at a knocking on the door. Kate pulled on her pyjama bottoms and grabbed a T-shirt. Hair flying, she ran down the
stairs. She opened the kitchen door and Willow hurtled across the hall, yelping with joy. The puppy was leaping up and down with excitement as Kate fumbled with the key, her fingers as hungover as
the rest of her. She pulled the stiff door open.

‘Kate.’

Roderick stood there, eyes hollow with tiredness, a quarter-inch of dark shadow on his cheeks. He looked stressed, and tired, and beautiful.

Kate felt her disobedient stomach lurch with happiness.

‘I’ve just got off the boat. I know it’s early, but I thought you’d be up with Willow.’

The puppy was there, circling his feet, ecstatic with happiness and barking madly.

‘At least someone is pleased to see me,’ he said ruefully, leaning down to tickle her tummy.

‘I am. I mean, I’m not . . . I’m just – it’s just I wasn’t expecting . . . ’ she said.

‘I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.’ He half-turned.

She caught his arm. ‘No. Don’t go. I just didn’t expect you to appear. You didn’t . . .’ She wasn’t sure where to begin.

‘I’ve had a lot to sort out.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘It’s a long story. I’ll explain, but not now.’

‘I . . .’ She stood on the doorstep, open-mouthed with horror, excitement and mortification, shivering with cold and shock in her pyjama trousers.

‘I missed you, Kate.’ He looked almost surprised that he’d said it out loud. He took a step forward, so close that his foot was in between hers. There was something strangely
intimate about that one step. Kate looked down at their feet, not saying anything. They were so close. He looked at her mouth, then her eyes.

She looked away, flushing, suddenly flooded with embarrassment.

‘Kate . . .’

He caught her chin with his finger, turning her face back so that he was looking into her eyes. His hand was shaking.

He moved a fraction closer, his glance moving slowly from her eyes to her mouth, then back again. And his mouth was only a hair’s breadth from hers, and he was—

‘Any chance of that coffee now, Kate?’ Finn, clad only in a pair of jeans, thundered down the stairs.

Roderick stepped back as if scalded.

‘Morning, Roddy,’ Finn said cheerfully. ‘Back on the first ferry, I see? You didn’t say you were working today, Kate. That’s going to be a bugger, if your hangover
is anything like mine.’

Kate stood, slack-jawed, incapable of speech.

‘I’m so sorry.’ Roderick’s voice was flat, his face instantly tight and closed. ‘I had no idea you had company.’

‘Dinner party up at Morag and Ted’s house last night,’ Finn informed him, oblivious to everything.

‘Of course.’

Kate was still dumbstruck, but managed to shut her mouth.

‘Kate, I’ll stick the kettle on. Roddy, a quick coffee?’

‘I don’t think so, no.’ Roderick leaned down, patting goodbye to the ecstatically squirming Willow. ‘I’ll leave you two to it then, shall I?’

‘It’s not what it looks like.’ She realized, as soon as the words were out, that they sounded hollow.

‘It’s not up to me what it looks like,’ remarked Roderick, his mouth set in a thin line. ‘You’re a free agent.’ He straightened up, turned and stalked down
the drive.

‘Got any marmalade, Kate?’

She stood in the kitchen with her head in her hands. Finn was helping himself to breakfast, apparently unaware that Kate was having a minor nervous breakdown right next to him. He was actually
humming
to himself as he clattered around, opening and shutting drawers, finding teaspoons and mugs as the kettle boiled. Was he completely blind? She exhaled slowly, a huge out-breath of
mortified horror, which caused him to look up.

‘Toast?’ He held out a slice, thickly buttered and dripping with marmalade.

‘I’m not really hungry.’

‘I’ll have yours.’ He plonked it on a tray alongside the teapot and mugs, pushing open the kitchen door with his foot. ‘We can watch a bit of crap morning television, and
you can stop being embarrassed.’

She followed him through to the sitting room mutely, and curled up in a corner of the sofa, huddled beneath a blanket, abject with misery.

‘Bloody hell, Kate, was it that bad?’ Finn passed her a mug of tea. She shook her head as he offered her sugar.

‘It’s hideous,’ she said. ‘Of all the things to happen – on a scale of one to ten for awfulness – I’d rate it about a fifteen.’

Finn pulled a face. ‘I’m going to have to brush up on my technique. Maybe it’s a bit too country bumpkin for a sophisticated city chick like you?’

The penny dropped and Kate burst out laughing, despite her misery. ‘Oh God, Finn. No, you were very – oh God, I’ve forgotten about last night.’ She flushed scarlet.
‘And now I’m embarrassed about that, too.’

‘No need.’

‘I was drunk and I tore your shirt off like a fiend.’

‘Not at all. You weren’t that drunk, and you did unfasten the buttons very politely.’

Oh God, oh God!

‘But more to the point,’ he teased, ‘I was very what? Good? Amazing?’

‘You were very good. It was very good. I mean, thank you for a lovely night. But oh, nooo.’ Kate emitted a howl of despair, head in her hands. ‘It’s not that.’ She
plucked at the blanket. She could see Finn’s mind working slowly.

‘You and Roddy?’

‘There isn’t any me and Roddy – well, there certainly won’t be now.’

‘Bloody hell, Kate.’ He looked at her with sudden recognition, blue eyes softening.

‘I know,’ she said, miserably.

Having explained the whole making-friends-having-fun-going-to-bonfire-accidental-snog scenario to Finn, Kate found she felt slightly better. Watching him flick through the
channels before settling on an episode of
Friends
, she realized who he reminded her of – he was Joey. Gorgeous, well aware of the effect he had on women, but more interested in the
chase than the morning after. He’d clearly had so many morning-afters that he didn’t feel the slightest pang of guilt. He was like a Labrador puppy, happily bounding from one person to
the next, sharing his affections.

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